Published: 5 Jun 2023

Chapter 27

Ian Douglas arrived home and by his smirk and haste had gossip to share. He was barely inside before speaking, “I know something that may interest you.” His expression is frothy and scandalous.

Owen lifts his eyes realising whatever Douglas had to reveal he wouldn’t be all that keen hearing.

“Is that so?” Owen eventually asks.

“It is.”

“Disregarding that, where have you been?” Owen questions.

“The pub.”

“Did you get to the shops?”

“I forgot.”

“I thought you went for milk and eggs for breakfast.”

“I met up with some mates and went for a beer and I forgot.”

“Then it will be moldy bread and black tea for breakfast.”

“That suits me but as I said, I heard something that may interest you while at the pub.”

“I suppose you heard all kinds of things but are you going to share it, or carry on like some schoolyard kid?”

“Possibly I will.”

“Ian I’m not playing your dumb childish games, either you do or don’t and as for either I’m not in the least interested.”

“You may be.”

A deep breath and Owen goes to the kitchen. Opening the refrigerator he calls back, “we are also out of beer, whose turn was it to do the shopping this week?” He notes the lack of anything interesting on the shelving and feels the tug of past rationing, realising life with Douglas was becoming much too spartan, inducing sooner rather than later he would need to find his own place.

“Well, actually Owen it was yours,” Ian sarcastically answers.

“Oh yes, it was,” a light titter of guilt, “give me your car keys and I’ll get a couple of bottles.”

“Then while you are out get the milk and eggs.”

“The shops will be closed and if I don’t leave now the pub will also be closed.”

“I’m not fussed, I had a few and I’m feeling a bit woozy.”

“And you drove home?”

“I took the back street.”

“You better watch the corner at Hort Street as the cops sit there in the car waiting for drunks to come from the Railway Hotel bar.”

“I went the other way.”

“I want a beer so I’ll go,” Owen wasn’t desperate for a drink, more to point he was driving home his displeasure with his housemate, “I’ll do the shopping tomorrow but you will have to give me your share of the grocery money.”

“I’m skint so you will have to wait until payday,” Ian admits.

“You still owe for last week.”

“Don’t panic Owen you’ll get your money. Aren’t you interested in what I’ve discovered?”

“Not really Ian.”

Owen collects the car keys and heads for the door.

“I’ll tell you anyway.”

Owen quietly pauses.

“I met your uncle at the pub.”

“Which one? I have quite a few and believe it or not, one is a year younger than I am.”

“I met your Uncle Teddy.”

“Oh yes Ted and what did Ted have to say for himself?” Owen frowns from annoyance but waits for Ian do divulge.

“He tried to pick me up,”

“I guess I know what you mean by that.”

“He’s a little old for me but in a town like this you can’t be choosey.”

“Ian must you be so crude and what makes you think I’d be interested in your private activities.”

“I’m only telling how it was.”

“Alright what happened?”

“So you are interested?”

Owen remained waiting at the door without speaking further and in two minds to either listen or depart.

“I said I’d think about it and then he asked after you.”

“Ian for the last time, keep me out of your sordid affairs and don’t interfere in my family business.”

“I’m sorry for speaking.” Ian curtly snaps.

“Never mind but please Ian, keep me out of any encounter you may have with Ted. It is a family matter and somewhat private.”

“Honestly; all I did was agree when he asked if I was sharing with you and nothing more. He did remember my visits to the farm when I was a boy and how you and I would conceal away in some secret corner.”

“What you said was more than enough.”

“I’m sorry Owen but I must ask. What did Teddy do to be so non-gratis, he appears to be friendly kinda’ bloke?”

“It is family business Ian and in truth also none of mine, I won’t warn you again.”

Ian simply gives a short gurgling sound as Owen departs.

‘Bugger it,’ Owen thinks as he drives to the hotel.

‘Even so Ian is correct, one of these days I’ll have to approach Ted, no matter what the outcome and I think it is about time I found somewhere else to live.’

‘So Ted’s preference is out,’ Owen smiles with the thought, as he finds a vacant parking space outside the Royal bar.

‘Then again that has been obvious since I challenged Jim on the matter.’

A deep sigh;

“Oh well,” Owen simply says without design for furthering his opinion of his uncle and instead of purchasing bottles, he enters into the bar and stays until closing.

Being a little worse for weather Owen leaves Ian’s car where it is parked and walks home and as well, as he had hardly gone twenty yards before Sergeant Craddick pulls up beside.

“It’s good to see you are walking home young Owen,” Craddick calls from the vehicles window.

“I had a couple more than intended,” Owen admits.

“Yes I saw you locking the car after leaving the bar. How’s Alf been since Jim’s accident?”

“Accident Mr. Craddick?”

“You know my meaning lad.”

“He is mending.”

“Righto’ lad, you be sure to go straight home.”

“I’m heading that way.”

Craddock drives off and had barely gone a hundred yards before he sounded the siren in pursuit of a vehicle that pulled out into traffic close by the hotel.

The vehicle stops.

‘That’s Ron Clark?’ Owen begins to chuckle as Craddick approaches the driver’s window.

‘Ron will be as drunk as a skunk.’

‘Dad warned him not to park so close to the pub when drinking.’ Owen eventually passes Clark’s vehicle as Ron is forced out for inspection. He smiles and gives Ron a gentle head nod but Ron appears too far gone to acknowledge.

‘I must call dad, he’ll be most amused.’

After Owen’s daily deliveries he called in to visit Winnie on his return to the factory.

“Have you time for coffee?” Winnie offered.

“Yes I have a few minutes as I am running ahead of schedule.”

“I’ll put the kettle on,” As Winnie spoke baby Gary commenced to cry.

“The little tyke has a good set of lungs, I’ll give him that.” Owen laughs.

“He’s hungry. I’ll feed him while the kettle is boiling.

“You’re not gonna’?”

“No Own I’m not, it’s a bottle.”

During coffee Owen became unusually quiet and obviously interested beyond the kitchen window.

“What is on your mind?” Winnie asks as she puts Gary back to his cot.

“I was looking at your shed.”

“It is actually a bungalow and was Rod’s room when his parents were alive.”

“Lucky,” Owen huffs referring to his situation of living with Ian Douglass.

“Why do you say lucky?”

“Having privacy I suppose.”

“You are sharing with Ian Douglas I hear?”

“I am but I need to get out of there, he is starting to do my head in.”

“If I am a judge of Ian’s character, I can guess why.”

“He is full on, day and night and I can’t find his off switch.”

“Why not live here, I’m sure Rod wouldn’t mind and you could use the bungalow.”

“What of your second, when is it due?”

“Some time yet but that wouldn’t be a problem, besides closer in some extra help around the house would come in handy, as Rod is away with his work most of the time.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’ll put it to Rod tonight. Mum said you got a letter from Chip.”

“It was an empty envelope.

“That is worrying,”

“I would say he is back on the family farm by now.”

“Do you miss him?”

Owen looks at his watch, “I should be on my way. And in answer to your question, yes I miss him very much and believe you had long ago sensed my sentiment, unfortunately that is the legacy of war.”

“War brides,” Winnie says as she clears the coffee mugs to the sink.

“Why do you say that?”

“I was almost one myself, except thanks to you and Chip.”

“Would it have been all so bad sis?”

“In some ways no, I fancied Hank but he was already married besides by his yapping on about his kid, he would never have dumped his wife for me. Then again I also fancied Chip but he was -,”

“Was what Winnie?”

“Chip was in love with you, a blind man could see that,” Winnie laughs, “possibly you could have become a war bride.”

“Very funny.”

“I better put Rod’s tea on as he likes it on the table at precisely five thirty.”

“Do you love Rod?”

“Love is a funny thing Owen, in time you may understand. I respect Rod and he treats me well, also he is wealthy and being so helps love along. In time yes I think I can learn to love Rod.”

“If you didn’t love him, why marry?”

“You are a true romantic Owen. In general women don’t marry for love, men do that, or think what they feel is love, while in the most it is nothing but howling male hormones. Women marry to find security with a man to provide for them.”

“And what else do women want?”

“Mostly they want children while the man is usually an optional extra to give legality to the kids and often is more a hindrance. That and not to be bashed stupid by some drunken sod, like what happened to Heather McDonald last week out at Paddies Green.”

“Yes I heard about Heather, the cops are still looking for Fred. I believe he suffers badly from his war experience.”

“That’s no excuse, when he’s caught they should cut his nuts off. Castration is my opinion, like Uncle William’s bulls, it should at least quieten him down.”

Owen almost felt the blade on his person, “that is a little excessive.”

“It’s only an opinion but security is the most of what any woman wants.”

“And that relates to you?”

“In part yes, now I better get the tea on. I will speak with Rod about you living here, as soon as the opportunity is right.”

“Thank you Winnie, it will be a blessing to be away from Ian.”

Owen gives up his bag of washing to May and she upends it on the kitchen table. “You know Owen most of this lot should be binned not washed and look at the tatty state of your underwear,” being her first comment each time she receives his washing bag.

“No one sees them mum,” Owen protests.

“What if you have an accident and have to go to hospital?”

“Still not my problem, I should think the doctor would be too busy patching me to worry about the state of my underwear.”

“I hear you are moving in with Rod and Winnie?”

“Yes, next week.”

“Did you have a fallen out with your little school friend?”

“No mum nothing so dramatic but two roosters in the same hutch don’t make the best of buddies and I should think we are too different to be sharing.

“Roosters, I would think Ian would be more a hen,” May titters.

Owen laughs loudly, “I’ll tell him that.”

“Owen don’t you dare repeat what I said.”

“I wouldn’t. Ian is alright but he does go on.”

“I remember when your dad caught the two of you swimming naked in the dam.”

“We would have been no more than twelve.”

“Two little white bums flashing in the sunlight, I wish I had been there with the camera,” May laughs as she continues to sort through Owen’s washing, “I’ll be in town on Monday, I will buy you new underwear, you can’t were these.”

‘White bums,’ Owen thinks and releases a secret smile.

‘Lucky he didn’t catch us earlier, or he would have seen more than white bums,’ he appends to that thought.

May’s mood becomes pensive.

“What are you thinking?” Owen quietly requests.

“I was remembering Jim and the day he and your father built the dam and how hard he worked and how proud he was when it was finished. Your father offered him ten shillings for helping.”

“Did Jim take the money?”

“He refused; saying working with Alf was payment enough.”

Owen allowed May to mull her memory without interruption.

Eventually with a gentle smile she returned to the present and the sorting of Owen’s washing; “have you spoken to your father today?”

“No I have just arrived and didn’t see him about.”

“I should let him tell you.”

“What now Megan-may.”

May lowers her voice, “he has sold the farm but don’t let on I told you.”

“I already knew he was selling and had seen notification in Risdon’s window in town.”

“Your father said he it was too good an offer to refuse.”

“Has he told Gavin of the sale?” Owen asks.

“He has.”

“What did Gavin say?”

“He simply shrugged his shoulders and said it’s your farm so do what you must.”

“Cheeky.”

“I think he’s had enough. Gavin says he will remain in town if we move away.”

“What about you? How do you feel about moving?”

“I think it is time. True it will be hard to adjust to somewhere new as the farm has been home since just after Jim -,” May pauses, “well for a long time and a change from dirt and dust in everything will be well appreciated.”

“What about Sookie, I can’t have her at Winnie’s, Rod hates dogs.”

“She will come with us.”

As May concluded Alf comes in from the yard and by May’s guilty expression, he knew what the topic of conversation had been, “you told Owen, I thought I said I wished to tell him?” Alf growled.

“It will save you the bother.”

“What are your future intentions Owen?”

“I will stay in Mareeba and at last I have arranged for flying lessons with Bush Pilots.”

“Have they made an offer to teach you locally, or do you need to go down to Cairns or Townsville?”

“They will locally and I start soon.”

“Can you afford the lessons?”

“I think so, besides if not Rod said if necessary he would lend me some money.”

It was a further fortnight before Owen made a break from living with Ian. By then it was obvious both were glad to see the back of the other, with Owen using helping during Winnie’s second pregnancy as his reason, also as Rod was often working away, Owen would be blessing around the house.

On Owen’s departure from Ian’s company, both expressed the obligatory wish to keep in touch, although in a town the size of Mareeba that wouldn’t be too difficult, as their watering hole was the Dunlop Hotel and Winnie’s house was no more than three streets away from Ian.

Living in town proved to be a further problem for Owen, that being it was almost impossible to avoid the occasional sighting of his Uncle Ted. Mostly it was at distance from the opposing side of the street, or across the hazy atmosphere of a hotel bar. A closer encounter being when Owen was delivering a number of crates of soft drinks to Welch’s Grocery, while Ted was doing his shopping. Owen smiled and nodded before departing as quickly as his delivery duty permitted and happily for Owen, Ted didn’t approach.

It was after making the delivery to Welch, Owen decided his avoidance of Ted was somewhat childish and at some time sooner rather than later, he would approach his uncle but would honor his father’s wishes while Alf remained in the district, besides with Jim deceased any encumbrance on the situation would have died with him.

The sale of the farm went through quickly and during the evening after the signing of contracts May called Winnie bringing her to tears. Noticing Winnie’s distress Owen comes to her, “what has happened sis?” he quietly asks.

Winnie covered the mouthpiece, “the farm has sold.”

Owen moved away allowing the conversation to progress with Winnie settling from the shock. She knew it would sell but hoped Alf would reconsider. After more than ten minutes Winnie came from the conversation.

“Are you alright?” Owen softly asks.

“Yes, it was the shock that is all. Mum wants you to visit.”

“I’ll get a taxi out on the weekend.”

“Use the Ford as Rod will be away in Cairns on business for the rest of the week, he went down by rail motor this afternoon.

“Did mum say when they will be leaving?”

“No, only they will relocate to Innisfail near Grandma and dad may buy into Uncle Jack’s sugar farm.”

“You would think dad would have had enough of farming.”

“Mum said if he did so, he would be a silent partner.”

Saturday morning arrived with some trepidation for Owen, firstly he paused at the farm gate surveying his childhood kingdom, while he concerned on what would be done with Ruby. She was now beyond riding and taking on a condition, although in its early stages, known as swayback. Continuing on towards the house, Owen spied Alf coming from the equipment shed.

Alf didn’t advance to meet the vehicle but waited for Owen to park and approach. It was then Owen realized how old and frail Alf appeared, all within a single year since Jim’s passing. Owen now understood his father’s need for a quieter life, as without Jim the progress of the farm towards growing tobacco would never happen; instead it would become overgrown and wasted.

As the two met, Owen greeted his father with comment on the weather.

“Yes we could do with a drop of rain,” Alf surmises.

“We could at that.”

“Then again by month’s end it won’t be our problem,” Alf says and directs Owen back to the equipment shed. Once inside he collects a hammer and places it down on a large anvil. “Do you bare me ill feelings for selling the farm Owen?” he asks.

“Not at all, I can understand your position, what else could you do?”

“You mother isn’t happy,” Alf sighs softly and again collects the hammer, this time returning it to its allotted slot on a wall bracket. He gives a humored chuckle, “do you remember doing that?” he asks.

“Doing what dad?”

“Your little trick of marking the outlines of each tool on the wall.”

“Yes and you said it was vandalism but since you have constantly used it.” Owen notices the old motorbike has been wheeled from his usual place, “have you got Granddad’s bike going?” he asks.

“I never got around finding the parts.”

“Will you take it with you?”

“No I’ve offered to Ken Francis; he’s always fancied it and will be collecting the bike tomorrow. About your mother?” Alf digresses.

“I would think she pines for moving away from us especially with Winnie’s second due at any time.”

“True, although it is only a three hour drive away,” Alf says.

“I’ll speak with her.”

“I notice you are driving Rod’s new Ford?”

“I can’t afford one myself, not even an old bomb like Ian Douglas has.”

Alf releases an acknowledging sound without comment.

May is in the kitchen making a fresh batch of pumpkin scones. As Owen enters he complements, “they smell nice.”

“They are just out of the oven, let them cool a while and I will give you some to take back to Winnie.”

Owen takes a seat at the breakfast table and realizes he had sat in that very spot, day after day, year in and year out since he migrated from his high chair.

“I won’t be sorry to see the last of this oven, as it leaks heat like a sieve.”

“Dad promised to buy you a new one often enough,” Owen recollects.

“Yes and you know your father’s promises and – ;”

“Yes I know; if Alf’s promises were pound notes we would all be millionaires.”

“That was one slant on that adage of his.”

May turns from Owen and softly releases a gentle snivel; she wipes it away with a small pink handkerchief drawn from her apron pocked.

Owen feels for his mother and has to fight away his own emotion. “So Megan-may, a new chapter to an eventful life,” he says then realizes the dumbness of his words.

May laughs, as she always liked her son calling her Megan-may and couldn’t remember him calling her mum or mother. “I don’t know. I’m too old to start over.”

“You will be near Gran and we will visit you often.”

“What of Gavin? He is so young to go out alone.”

“Dad said he will remain in Mareeba and there will be Winnie and me to keep him straight.”

“That blasted war!” May quotes with force, “if it wasn’t for the war we would have Jim and no need to sell the farm.”

“Jim survived the war but would never have survived the peace. Jim always had a self-destruct button, besides he would never have made a farmer.”

“Like you Owen.” There is a gentle sting in May’s words, almost an accusation towards his lack of interest in farming.

“Yes like me but Gavin may have in time,” Owen suggests.

“Your father’s lot was the same, from all those boys only two had dirt in their veins.”

“We can’t all be farmers Megan-may, some need to fly aeroplanes,” Owen makes light.

“How are you with your flying instructions?” May asks.

“Good and I even get to do some piloting.”

“You all grew up so quickly, I remember how Jim would muster you and the others like wild brumbies and threaten to brand you all with his JP brand,” May gives a smile of fondness, “you came into the house with it painted onto your foreheads from an indelible pencil I used to mark Winnie’s clothing, when she was boarding at Saint Anne’s and it took most of the week to fade.”

“As well we didn’t have a branding iron otherwise we would have been marked for life.”

“Oh Owen I miss him so much and soon I will be missing you all.”

“It will pass once you have settled and as I said we will all visit. We will have Christmas at Grandma’s like the old days and Winnie will bring baby Gary and her next.”

“I won’t be here for the birth and it is due soon.”

May collects the freshly baked scones and places them on the table, “get the cream and there is a fresh bottle of strawberry jam in the pantry.

“I can smell freshly baked scones,” Alf announces as he entered into the kitchen.

“You sure can,” Owen complements his mother’s cooking.

“Your mother makes the best Pumpkin Scones in the district. You know they once won second prize at the Mareeba produce show.”

“That was long ago Alf,” May admits as Alf dumps his dirty hat onto the table. He rubs his hands together with glee towards the fresh scones.

“Hat Alf it doesn’t belong on the table.”

“And they are still as good.

“I would agree to that,” Owen concurs.

“And are twice as good as the winning batch by Judy Roberts and her snooty ways.”

Gary’s stories are about life for gay men in Australia’s past and present. Your emails to him are the only payment he receives. Email Gary to let him know you are reading: Conder 333 at Hotmail dot Com

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