Published: 09 Jan 2017

Meetings of the town council were only as frequent as the law determined. The Mayor, Henry Wallace from Wallace Estate Agency, was of weak character and easily lead by his fellow councillors, in the guise of Bill Fraser, Len Kenny and of course Fred Jones the butcher. Some Council meeting were public but most business was done clandestine, over a bottle of top shelf scotch in the Fraser’s living room. Between the four Councillors they held a quorum; other members usually went along with what ever they suggested.

Such was the gathering at the Fraser house that Friday night. Rose Fraser had ordered pizza. Its odour filled the room giving the atmosphere of an Italian restaurant, while the scotch bottle was draining at such a speed that a second had to be opened.

“What about this mining permit?” Bill Fraser tabled, cutting across conversation on the striking figure cut by Kenny’s new checkout chick. There had been an application to reopen the old gold mine just beyond the Two Mile. With the price of gold skyrocketing, it now became profitable to recommence mining and process the tailings, as they had recently done at Ravenswood.

“With our support it should go through on the nod.” Kenny answered.

“Don’t nod too quickly we don’t want to ruin our chances.” Jones added. They all agreed.

“How many houses do you have on your books?” Kenny asked of Henry Wallace.

“Seven, I’ve earmarked them all and think we should be able to get most of them at a good price, as they aren’t selling.” Wallace answered.

“They will once the mining permit goes through.” Jones added.

“That’s why we have to slow down issuing the permit.”

The four had registered a dollar company they called Four Kings, in order to deal secretly within the community. It’s only interest being the purchase of houses at bargain prices. With the town in recession there were many properties for sale and with Wallace under valuing these properties and the others applying pressure on the vendors, it would be a killing.

“You should sell Mrs. Brown you won’t get a better price.”

“Take the offer, it sounds reasonable to me.”

“The town is dying, I’d advise you to sell while you have the offer.”

Were some of their more subtle tactics and if that didn’t work there was alway Fraser’s son, Brett, out at night creating a nuisance. Noise pollution was always a good method of making up one’s mind.

“Old Ma Robinson is on the verge of agreeing, I suggested she drop her asking by a few thousand, she wasn’t too pleased but she’s coming around.” Wallace bragged while pouring himself a double scotch. Looking across at Fraser he noticed his associate to be somewhat agitated. “You seemed to be bothered Bill?” He asked, offering his friend a refill.

“What about the Brody house?” Fraser asked.

“The Brody woman won’t budge and seeing she’s not in town it’s a little difficult to push further, besides it’s in bad condition and doesn’t have good resale value, to be honest, I wouldn’t billet a dog there.” Wallace explained. It was true the house was somewhat run down but with a coat of paint, a new weather board or two, or a dozen perhaps and a tidy to the garden, it could be made quite respectable.

“What is it with you and the Brody house?” Kenny asked abruptly from the background of the conversation.

“Umm,” Fraser mumbled without clarifying his reason.

“There are plenty without the Brody house.” Jones protested.

Fraser wanted that property. He wished to evict young Esca Brody from the house and town, all because of revenge. In his youth Fraser was at school with Kevin Brody, who became the bane of his existence and on more occasions than he could remember, either embarrassed him or caused bodily harm. Also in Fraser’s opinion, Kevin Brody stole Stella from him, proposing to her only moments before Fraser had the chance to do so. Fraser therefore married Stella’s best friend, Rose out of spite but never loved her and only tolerated the two boys she bore him, what better reasons had he to issue revenge on anyone from the Brody family?

Bill Fraser would have his revenge, if not on the father or the uncle it would be on the son. Fraser did know George Brody was back in town, as George had visited his News Agency. Being a coward Fraser treated him with false courtesy, believing it would be much easier to strike vengeance against Esca.

“Then for a start we’ll work on Mrs. Robinson before she pegs out and we have to deal with that stiff nosed grandson of hers.” Kenny tabled. Fraser agreed but still knew he must have the Brody house.

“You could send in Brett to hurry it along.” Jones laughed.

Veronica Robinson was a member of the town’s founding families, now well into her nineties and frail. She had been a babe in arms when the town’s first dwellings were established, housing workers for the logging industry and later the gold mine. Veronica had only one surviving relative, a grandson, Basil Robinson who lived in the city; a most difficult man to do business with. His only interest was money and would attempt to squeeze every last cent out of the sale of his grandmother’s house, if not for the sake of his inheritance than for the good of the woman. As for the grandmother, the old lady had recently been in hospital. Since returning home she had worsened and the District Nurse convinced her to enter into a retirement home. Fortunately for Four King’s her Grandson was away overseas on a business trip, so wasn’t able to handle the sale for her.

The Robinson residence was a large rambling house surrounded on all sides by a continuous and trellised verandah being most probably one of the two finest dwellings in the town. A prize in anyone’s opinion and with the old woman needing a sale, it was up for grabs by the greedy four.

Shortly after returning home from hospital Veronica Robinson gave in to Henry Wallace and her home was quickly purchased by The Four Kings Holding Company, without interference from her grandson and for an even less price than originally suggested. No sooner had the women gone into a retirement village, she died and the house, being too valuable to become a rental property, was resold by Four Kings for a healthy profit.

George Brody stayed with Esca for a little over a week before moving into the Leet property in Cooper Street. The house itself didn’t need much attention but the Leet’s had a magnificent garden which would need, at very least, regular watering, so George was to become the tenant gardener for the following three months. A job he had no idea how to execute.

After the first warm day he called on Esca asking his nephew if he would give him a hand. Esca agreed lecturing his uncle on the finer points of watering.

“It’s easy George, you stand there holding the hose and point it at the plants – like taking a piss; you stand and hold the thing and aim. I’m sure you know all about holding that.”

George gave a grin but didn’t respond.

No sooner had Esca lifted the hose nozzle and turned on the water, George disappeared, not returning until the job was completed. Upon his uncle’s second request Esca refused, so George secretly asked Luke if he would help. Luke agreed, until discovering he had earlier tried it on with Esca. Eventually George learnt the watering was his problem and the job wasn’t difficult at all, leaving only the house to contend with.

The Leet property was most definitely a ladies house. Prim, totally dusted and shone like a bright pin. Ester Leet was a most house-proud woman who had long since exiled her husband to the garden and his shed. It was as well as Clem was never house-proud and prepared to go along with whatever his wife decided, while secretly admiring her pristine ways and Florid Edwardian arrangement.

All George had to do was keep it that way.

While attempting to evacuate the daily dust, George did find the vacuum cleaner and thought of asking either Esca or Luke how it worked, instead choose to use a soft broom he found in its special place in a laundry cupboard. He soon discovering the broom didn’t work on carpet and once again persevered with the vacuum cleaner, eventually realising all one had to do was turn it on and like the hose aim it.

As for the kitchen, which was immaculate and appeared to have never been used, George set aside one small space, keeping his mess with its boundaries. He did think of not using the bathroom at all but gave in and after his daily ablutions cleaned it to the best of his ability.

“How in hell do women do all this?” George declared loudly wishing he had never agreed to house sit, his hands frothing excessively with over use of whatever he found in a plastic bottle, as he cleaned the shower glass.

“Now on to the bedroom,” He sighed despondently.

The late afternoon was warm, it had tried to rain on a number of days but eventually George had to turn on the hose and spend some time in the garden. While watering a row of roses along the front wire fence, his mind on what he was instructed to do about weeding and what were weeds, he was surprised by a voice from behind.

“George Brody good to see you working for a change,” turning he recognise Sergeant Sid Barnes, standing hands on hips and only feet away. George jumped then settled.

“Three months of it Sid but no pay eh.” he answered.

“You better do a good job, those roses are Clem’s pride and joy he’s won many a prize with that lot.”

Sid Barnes, as had Fraser grew up with the Brody brothers but unlike Fraser didn’t receive the Brody treatment yet had been more acquaintances rather than friends.

“How’s that nephew of yours?” Barnes asked.

“Esca? – Na he’s not a true Brody, too soft.”

“I’ll need to speak to him one of these days, some unfinished business.” Barnes declared.

“Has he been getting himself into trouble?”

“Not as such, just something I need to clarify.” Barnes concluded as Fred Jones passed on his way home after closing his shop. “See you around George; have to have a drink eh.” Barnes cut short their conversation, calling on Jones to wait.

As the two walked on their way, George attempted to listen in on their discussion, catching the words ‘owe money and squeeze the last drop out of the bugger’ then with an angered expression on the face of Jones the two disappeared around the first corner, still deep in fiscal discussion.

“Well Sid once a crook always a crook and I know the two of you are scheming something, one of these days they will get you.” George declared loudly, pretending to squirt them with the hose.

At weeks end Esca, while doing his shopping, called on his uncle. George seemed to be getting the hang of watering or at least the garden appeared to survive, maybe because of the heavy rain that had fallen over the previous day.

“You know Esca you can water a garden all week but it only takes a light shower to make it come to life.” George declared.

“Clever of you George, I thought you didn’t know anything about gardening?”

“I don’t, the old girl next door told me that this morning, her old man’s away, I think she’s lonely and taken a shine to me.” George sounded somewhat worried about her designs. “She even invited me in for a roast meal but I declined, I told her I was a vegetarian.”

“Going straight eh George?” Esca laughed.

“Don’t know about that young fellow but what have you done to upset Sid Barnes?”

“Why?”

“He called past the other day and said he has some unfinished business with you.” George repeated the Sergeant’s words attempting to make them sound as troublesome as possible.

“Probably to do with the Chemist break-in some time back, before I went to the city but I didn’t have anything to do with it, besides he’s had plenty chances to talk to me since I returned home.” Esca shrugged away the information without concern.

“He’s a right bastard anyway; always was even as a kid.” George reminisced.

“Did you know Barnes back in your school days?” Esca asked.

“Yea, Bill Fraser as well and Jones but although he was a bastard, Barnes was easier to get along with than the others.” George declared giving a slight smile, without divulging further into his past experiences. “It was your father who gave them the most grief, I was too young but Barnes was a different matter.” George added giving a convert grin.

“Don’t tell me you.” Esca didn’t complete his question. Deciding it was something best left unknown. The idea of sex with the Sergeant was beyond the lad’s imagination, as was the thought of his Uncle and Barnes at it.

“Don’t tell you what?” George asked now grinning from one ear to the other.

Esca yielded his resistance to enquire. “You didn’t – did you?”

“That would be telling.” George was still grinning.

“You did you randy bugger.”

“Well not really, – maybe sort of.”

“Come on out with it.”

George hesitated. He love to shock and almost exposed his thoughts, instead a stronger desire to leave one in wonder brought forth a grimy chuckle then a change of subject.

“I was thinking young Esca, this place is too prim for me, so maybe I can bunk over with you and come back to water.” George suggested.

“Whatever – but you will have to help out with the bills.”

George’s mind went into financial overdrive quickly loosing interest in his suggestion. “Maybe I’ll stay here, closer to the hose.” George concluded, not wishing to spend his beer money on electricity or food, besides why pay for food when Clem had stocked the refrigerator and pantry for him but no grog.

“As I said suit yourself.”

“By the way I haven’t seen Luke around of late.”

“No he’s dodging you since you tried to get him to do your work.”

“You know Esca you’re nothing like your father, there is a lot of your mother in you and I don’t know if that is a good indication. George growled, to which Esca bid his uncle the time of day and went about his shopping.

Gary would appreciate your thoughts on his story. Gary dot Conder at CastleRoland dot Net

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