Published: 25 Jun 2020

Lewis released a gentle sigh as the Gilbert Down’s windmill came into sight and the mail truck cleared the last of the trees.

“Happy to be home?” Hal Tucker asked over the roar of the trucks motor and the crunching of cogs as he searched for a lower gear. Eventually he found it and the truck gave a shudder as it reluctantly accepted his command.

‘Home,’ Lewis thought.

Was home Mareeba with all its memories of Will?

Was it Yungaburra where his mother now lived? Herberton where he wasted so many lonely years at the hostel? Or Melbourne the town of his birth? Now he had just one more destination to add to that growing list and that being Sydney. With all its decadence he was glad to be away, not because he had distain for such a lifestyle but because he found a growing inclination towards it; a moth to a bright light and a light that could damage the finest of character.

“Well we’re here.” Hal Tucker declared and brought the truck to stop among a flurry of red dust close to the store verandah, then descended his bad leg from the doorless cabin with much complaint from the pain it gave.

Tucker had received his injury while taking one too many bends in a straight stretch of the Croydon road and had collected the only tree of any substance within a good mile. Truthfully it wasn’t the single bend in twenty or so miles that was the problem but a skinful of grog he had at Clancy to celebrate the New Year. He had lay there for a day before a truck load of aboriginal stock hands chanced by, taking him to a nearby station from where they called the flying doctor.

The service flew Hal to Cairns, where with luck a surgeon of notoriety chanced to be visiting, saving not only his leg but his life. Still with all life’s luck and chances Tucker complained bitterly and often, yet except during floods he never missed a delivery.

“You’re back then?” Bob Kelly gave banter from among the red dust as he came to collect the mail, while appearing somewhat pleased with Lewis’ return.

“Yep how’s Horse?” Lewis answered, jumping down from the truck and accepting Bob’s outstretched hand.

“You two quit the chatter and help me unload this lot.” Hal directed.

“You won’t be riding her for a good while, that I can tell you.” Bob declared as he accepted the mail bag from Tucker. Then with the help from Lewis commenced to offload the station’s grocery order.

“Alright what have you done to her?” Lewis growled expecting the worse.

“I’ve done nothing,” Bob protested against the accusation.

“Well?” Lewis persisted.

“Well – Walt left her in the night horse paddock with that mongrel stallion and now she’s foaling.”

“I’ll be frigged!” Lewis laughed; two horses for the price of one eh?”

“How was Sydney, plenty of women?” Bob asked as he struggled with a large bag of potatoes. “Come on give me a hand,” he complained.

“That’s the lot.” Hal Tucker called from behind the truck. “I’ll be off – see ya’ in a fortnight.” He climbed back into the cabin while once more complaining bitterly about his bloody leg and was gone.

“Except for not taking care of Horse, anything else happen?” Lewis enquired from his help with a second bag of potatoes.

“Nothing, this place is a barrel of laughs at the best of times. Walt and Stan did go into town last weekend and Walt arrived back as drunk as a skunk.”

“Didn’t you go?”

“Wasn’t in the mood for drinking with old blokes, they are right downers when drinking, keep going on about the good old days and how they were wronged by their sheilas.”

“Have you married that girl of yours yet?” Lewis teased in answer to Bob’s question about the Sydney women.

“I called it all off,” Bob answered his voice laced with a mixture of emotion.

“Why would you do a dumb thing like that?”

“Dunno – but can you take the mail over to the boss while I finish up here?”

“Sure.”

Lewis left the mail bag on the office desk and found Jack Thompson at work on the stations generator and releasing the longest sentence of foul language without punctuation that a bushman could render. As Jack reached for a dropped spanner he spied Lewis’ boots, looking up he smiled, “You’re back then, gives’ a hand with this bastard.” The troublesome item was a bolt in a difficult corner where one need three hands to tighten and with only two Jack could not obtain the necessary leverage on the back nut while he turned the front nut.

“Sure,” Lewis collected a second spanner.

“How was Sydney?” Jack asked between turns on the nut.

“Not my idea of lifestyle,” Lewis answered.

“Nor mine.” Jack Agreed, mind you I’ve never been there but Brisbane is bad enough.”

“I’m happy to be back.” Lewis truthfully answered.

“Did Bob tell you about your horse?”

“He did,”

“You can cut one out of the new mob we brought up from Freshwater – it will need to be broken mind you.”

“I’ve never broken a horse,” Lewis answered with trepidation while remembering the many rodeos he had attended and how feisty unbroken horses could be and stories of broken bones and backs from the bronco riders.”

“No worries, I have a fellow coming across from Clancy to do the job.” Then with on last turn on the nut, “there you go nice and tight.” Jack lifted from under the truck engine that was the generator, “he calls himself a horse whisperer, whatever that flaming well is.”

“I read about it in Country Life,” Lewis admitted.

“By the way some bloke and his woman came by looking for you; she said she was your cousin, not a bad looking sheila but somewhat haughty, he seemed somewhat henpecked.”

“Was his name Ian and hers Liz?” Lewis enquired.

“That’s them, I told them you were in Sydney and Ian seemed disappointed as he wrote to you saying he was passing through.”

“I didn’t receive the letter.” Lewis lied out of embarrassment for not answering Ian’s correspondence.

“Never mind they will get you on the return next week.”

“Good.” Lewis declared somewhat despondingly, now wishing he had stayed longer in Sydney.

“About that mare of yours, you can blame Walt, he left her in the night horse paddock with that randy stallion, “What are you going to do with the foal?”

“How do you know she is expecting?” Lewis asked seeing it had only been a little more than two weeks since he last saw her.

“I guess when you see the stallion riding her with your own eyes, the outcome is somewhat obvious.”

“Then if so you may like to keep it Mr. Thompson.”

“Good knowing the mare’s nature it should make an excellent mount for the kids.” Jack stood, “there that should do the trick.” He said admiring his work while hitching his moleskins back over his hipless frame. He tightened his belt and wiped his brow with the back of his hand. “Must be tucker time what do you reckon, have you eaten?”

“Not since last night.” Lewis admitted.

“Then follow me over to the kitchen and we will have cook rustle us up some grub.”

Corned Beef and chutney sandwiches with thick slices of home made bread soon found place on enamel plates, with a side mug of hot tea followed by questions from the cook.

“I’ll get back to the generator Lewis, talk to you later about a couple of things; you settle back first; okay?”

“Well lad how was Sydney?” Joyce Marshall asked from the kitchen sink.

“Didn’t think much of it.” Lewis answered and picked up the tea towel, “I’ll give you a hand if you like?” he said as he reached for a soapy plate.

“Thanks but no thanks; sit down and talk to me.” Lewis obeyed and pulled a stool across the kitchen floor, scraping its legs across the bare boards as it passed.

“You know I was once from Sydney; I was born in the Blue Mountains and moved to Sydney for work when I was but a slip of a girl.”

“I wasn’t aware of that Mrs. Marshall.”

“Come now Lewis enough of the Missus, we have been acquainted long enough now to use first names, call me Joyce.”

“Why did you leave Sydney?”

“That Lewis was a story of the heart and to escape from a bad marriage. He was a lawyer, one of Sydney’s elite but violent and seeing he owned the law I lost everything; house, bank account kids the lot.”

“I’m sorry to hear so; I didn’t know you had family.”

“Don’t be Lewis it was the best thing I ever did and except for the kids I was well away from it all and I love the north.”

“How about the kids do you hear from them?” Lewis asked sincerely as the cook topped up his mug of tea, she smiled, “I saved you some milk.”

“That is always appreciated, oh by the way I brought you back some of that real coffee you said you longed for.”

“Most appreciated and as for the kids, I tried to contact a number of times but their father kept them well isolated from my attempts and after a few years I just gave up but I haven’t given up on the belief that one day I will chance by them.”

“What are their names?”

“Ah Eric and Julia; Eric will be twenty this year and Julia twenty-two.”

“Your back.” Ivy greeted from behind a pile of freshly washed and ironed tea towels she brought from the laundry. Ivy placed them aside and stood back to note any changes in Lewis. “You didn’t put on any extra weight with all that junk food I notice.”

“Are you ready for a nice cuppa Ivy?” Joyce asked and poured without waiting for response.

“Yes please a nice one Joyce.”

“Also a slice of cake I made for the house.”

“Yes if it is in the offering.” Ivy agreed.

“I told you someone would have to look after that kid of yours when he arrives.” Lewis joked.

“Yes won’t be long now; did you hear about your horse?”

“Bob told me and I have offered the foal to Mr. Thompson.”

“How was Sydney?” Ivy asked while folding the tea towels to a drawer.

“I wouldn’t wish to live there.”

“Yet you want to return to Melbourne?” Ivy suggested.

“A different place to be sure, Melbourne as I remember it was like an overgrown village, Sydney never stops.”

“You have been away from Melbourne so long I should think it has changed somewhat.” Ivy surmised.

“True,”

Jack Thompson called a meeting for the following morning and with Bob Kelly, Walter Drysdale and Lewis in attendance soon divulged his intentions. The recent flood had done much damage to fencing to the north of the river where certain breeding stock and working horses were kept, that being the reason Walter had put Horse in the paddock with the stallion, not realising she was in brood. As for the property in main, it was eleven hundred square miles of in the most unfenced territory and if it wasn’t for cattle branding it would be impossible to draft the station’s stock from its neighbour.

Now the river had lowered but not enough for vehicle access. Jack had ridden across a few days earlier, concluding by the week’s end they should be able to get the four wheel drive across the sandy causeway without bogging but had decided the inspection should be carried out on horse back.

“Have you ever done fencing Lewis?” Jack enquired.

“I could soon learn?” Lewis answered displaying his usual eagerness to show his good work ethics.

“Good to hear – Stan could you get onto the department and get a couple of the aboriginal stockmen back and we will need the kitchen help for a couple of weeks as well. It will be the quickest way of obtaining extra men at this time of the year.”

At meeting’s end the group left the bookkeepers office and gathered on the store verandah as a speck appeared in the distance along the Georgetown road. Stan seemed to think it was the form of someone walking while Walter whose eyesight was somewhat weak had to believe Stan’s account. It was Bob Kelly who concluded the form was that of Jimmy and as usual singing and dancing his way through the dust.

“Well I’ll be – the old bugger must have radar.” Jack declared, “Here comes you partner Lewis.” Jack looked back along the road to the approaching Jimmy. “You don’t mind working with Jimmy do you?”

“No worries I like his stories.”

“Stories you call them, more like flaming raving.” Walter exacted with a discrediting head shake.

“Well Stan as soon as you can get a couple of men and those gins back we can start, how long do you reckon before they can arrive?”

“Two, three days, I believe Mary and Molly are camped with others on the riverbank near Georgetown.” Stan answered. It appeared that Mary’s new man had family around Georgetown and they had taken up residence on the outskirts of town. Walter soon accounted it was to be close to the pub and the post office to collect their unemployment money.

Three days turned into five, Mary White and Molly were the first to arrive, with Molly reluctant to once again associate with Jimmy and his ghosts but agreeing if Jimmy kept his distance and she helped at the big house she would stay. As for the stockmen the seasonal regulars were already in service over Croydon way so the department found two young fellers from around Forsayth, who had very little interest in working but oddly for natives had fair fencing skills.

Both Toby Benny and Rex Simpson were half bloods, with Rex leaning more to the darker side while Toby was quite light with muddy blond hair but his attitude was most definitely black, while both were blessed in the art of walkabout. They would disappear for hours at a time and often not return for the day, still when supervised and push came to shove they strung a good fence.

As for Jimmy he affirmed he was a stockman not a fencer, declaring that Toby and Rex had sold their souls to the white man’s grog, of which they both partook heavily whenever opportunity allowed. As for their respect for Jimmy’s self ordained position as tribal elder, it was nonexistent, finding humour in his raving and sighting of ghosts.

Jimmy’s way of dealing with their irreverence was to ignore them and keep his distance, so as long as Rex and Toby remained at their quarters and Jimmy remained at the lagoon he tolerated their existence. Again Jack was sapient enough to have Rex and Toby work with Walter and leave Jimmy to work with Lewis.

Allowing Horse to gestate in peace, Lewis had chosen an already broken gelding aptly named Flea-bitten, as although light grey in colour had a multitude of minute bluish spots no bigger than an insect bite across its hide as if attacked by some insect. Lewis soon complained it lacked the surefootedness of Horse and would sooner of later trip over its own legs and break it’s ugly neck but Bob Kelly declared it was Lewis’ riding style that caused the gelding to lose its gait. Still after a morning together, mount and rider eased into a working arrangement that was satisfactory, even if Lewis had to admit Flea-bitten had the edge over him but he would eventually prevail.

“You have to show it who the boss is,” Bob declared humorously while watching the procedure from the store verandah. Walter lingered close by in equal amusement.

“I know who is but the bloody horse doesn’t.” Lewis growled as Flea-bitten decided to take a circular approach to its direction. It went round once with a correction with the reins, then around for a second time in the same direction and then a third. Lewis gave it a sharp kick in the flanks sending the horse into a gentle pigroot. Lewis gave it reins and another sharp boot into its tender parts, sending it into a gallop towards the night horse paddock. Soon Flea-bitten came to the realisation it wasn’t going to dislodge Lewis from its back and calmed to his wishes and behaved on its return to the others.

“Should use spurs that will tickle its attitude,” Walter Drysdale suggested.

“Don’t believe in them Walt, you can get a better result without cutting up the poor animal.” Lewis protested.

“Suit yourself – what do you reckon young fellow?” Walter asked of Bob.

“I agree with Lewis, you get a better result with sugar than vinegar.”

“Bloody vinegar,” Walter complained shaking his head at the suggestion:

“Bloody sugar; what bloody rot you young fellers carry on with.” Walter continued.

“Sure Walt,” Bob smirked.

“At least it’s quiet now,” Walter surrendered his suggestion but as he walked away mumbled bloody sugar and bloody vinegar until out of hearing.

Jack Thompson gathered the two half casts along with Bob Kelly and Walter Drysdale to ride over towards Freshwater to ascertain fence damage and pasture, once at a billabong called the Two Mile the three would separate and explore in their allotted direction. It was left to Lewis and Jimmy to check stock numbers and condition along the river flats and towards the west.

Although Jimmy was his friendly self there was a change about him and when Lewis enquired what was ailing he became even more closed than usual. As they passed the cairn he became agitated and commenced to chant in a low inaudible tone. This time their passage was to the south as a billabong had formed from the flood, preventing access from the river side, while covering Jimmy’s pile of rocks he had previously placed, also the climb to the top.

“What’s wrong Jimmy?” Lewis asked showing concern for his friend but was ignored. Lewis repeated his question and as they passed the cairn Jimmy finally spoke.

“Jimmy be dead soon Lewis.”

“How do you know that you’re not old?” Lewis enquired showing signs of shock from Jimmy’s somewhat precise declaration.

“Ghosts tell me so; Jimmy will die before your Christmas.”

“Do you have an illness; do you want to see a doctor?” Lewis suggested.

“No Lewis, doctors can’t help Jimmy.”

“What did these ghosts tell you Jimmy?” Lewis asked but the black man wasn’t forthcoming. Turning in his saddle to face Lewis he smiled.

“Hey Lewis we better count these bloody cows eh or the boss will get cranky?

“You are a worry Jimmy.”

“You have no worries Lewis one day you will be happy and give up on riding these sad horses.” Then Jimmy cantered away towards a small mob of cattle, leaving Lewis to catch up and somewhat confused by Jimmy’s admission.

Looking back at the cairn Lewis felt something leave him. A heaviness that had been there since Will’s death lifted and he heard the daylight for the first time and it was a symphony of sweetness, loud and confusing while prickling at his skin. Jimmy had once told him there was nothing louder than silence and now Lewis was hearing the silence and it was as if the whole of nature was screaming at him.

What caused Lewis’ sudden influx of emotion was a mystery. Possibly it was Jimmy and his chanting, or his promise Lewis would one day find happiness or Jimmy’s prediction he would be dead before Christmas and his nonchalant attitude towards his portent of demise. Whatever it may have been Lewis now had a sudden urge to meet his future head long.

“Hey Jimmy.” Lewis called after the black man who was now well ahead almost out of earshot. Jimmy turned and waved for Lewis to join him. Cantering up beside Jimmy, Lewis asked what the cairn and his ghosts really meant but Jimmy simply shook his head stating it was blackfeller’s business and he had already said more than he was permitted.

“When I’m up on the cairn I have a feeling of being free from everything,” Lewis declared ignoring Jimmy’s refusal to answer.

“That’s good Lewis but you should not go up there.” Jimmy declared.

“But what does it mean why should I feel good there?”

“Nothing Lewis you do it yourself, ghosts only come to those who believe in them,” Jimmy answered while shaking his head at Lewis’ continual.

“You mean what I feel is just in my head?”

“Lewis you should go back home you don’t belong in blackfeller’s country, you think too much to be a cattleman.”

“But I like my job.”

“Maybe so Lewis but no matter what you say your spirit doesn’t belong here, I hear it shouting at you. One day you will see when the white ghost finds you eh.”

“Who is this white ghost?” Lewis was beginning to anger at Jimmy’s telling while concluding somehow Jimmy had found out about Will and was using it to enforce his status as tribal elder.

“I don’t know its name Lewis it doesn’t talk to me I just see it looking for someone, I think he looks for you Lewis.”

It was now obvious that Jimmy had closed the subject, so Lewis accepted the black man’s refusal as they cantered towards the mob of cattle across the flood plain.

The stock-take of the cattle only continued for a number of days and they discovered in the most they had been smart enough to head for higher ground when the river broke its banks, besides the exercise wasn’t to discern how many there were but to ascertain their wellbeing and the condition of fencing.

Unlike cattle, fences have to remain in their paddock and accept whatever treatment the waters wished to effect upon them. While being posts and wire, water flowed through and past but often the flood brought with it debris that caught against the strands of wire until building pressure carrying them away posts and all.

Most of the damage was around the Gilbert itself but a number of creek crossovers along the boundary fence separating the homestead paddocks from the unfenced bulk of the property had been washed away by fallen trees and logs as they tumbled along the creek beds within the tide of water. There was the occasional carcass caught up in this debris and wire entanglement, bloating in the heat, becoming carrion for crows and dingoes but they were few and would not affect the following year’s numbers to market.

The fourth day found them all back at the homestead for a break away from work and seeing there weren’t any extra white stock hands Jimmy, Toby and Rex joined the others in the kitchen dining room but had to promise to wash and put on a shirt.

Mary White had once again ensconced herself as the kitchen help much to the cooks irritation, while Molly kept to the main house away from Mary’s teasing and Jimmy’s ghosts.

During the midday meal the men gathered around the large sheoak plank table in the dining room. The two black stockmen took refuge at one end leaving a place for Jimmy, who was as usual late but his grumbling about washing could be heard on the kitchen stairs, where he seemed to have paused while loosing the will to join the others. Walter stood and leaning out of the open window gave Jimmy encouragement to join them but he still appeared not to be in any hurry.

“Hey Jimmy you stuck on those bloody steps or what?” Walter shouted.

“I’m coming Walt.” Jimmy declared softly then commenced to sing at almost a whisper as he jumped from step to step, faltering a few seconds on each step.

“He’s bloody mad!” Walter Drysdale stated shaking his head furiously. “Bloody mad I say!” He repeated and reached for a slice of bread as Mary White brought in a platter of sausages and steaks.

“Hey Mary how’s that fellow of yours?” Stan enquired as she passed.

“He cleared out Stan.”

“What gone walkabout?”

“No just gone and found someone else with no kid,” Mary said without displaying displeasure.

“Lewis could you have a look at the stove for me after lunch it’s blowing smoke again?” Joyce Marshall asked as she entered to see if the men had sufficient food. Lewis agreed and waited behind after everyone had left while helping Mary to clear the table.

“What happened to your man; did you fight?” Lewis asked while collecting the dinner dishes and piling them to one end of the table, being as moderate as possible as when push came to shove Mary did have a somewhat fiery nature.

“He didn’t want to bring up a white baby, but no matter I have someone else now.” She huffed.

Lewis then asked the question he had been wishing to raise since Mary told him of her baby and had joked about its father.

“Who is the father Mary?” Lewis asked nervously. Mary laughed and shook her head. “Don’t worry Lewis it wasn’t you.”

“Where is the baby now?” Lewis enquired feeling relieved.

“I gave it to my mother in Mareeba. When my man said he didn’t want a redheaded white baby as it was bad luck, I told him I would give it to the Catholics but he still went.”

“Red hair?” Lewis asked inquisitively, as once again he was reminded of Will and Jimmy’s ghost. It seemed the colour red was haunting him.

“Yes his dad had red hair,” She smiled while anticipating Lewis’ reaction.

“Had?”

“Had – he’s dad is dead.”

“Who would that have been?” Lewis asked sharply feeling his gut tighten.

“You know who he was,” she paused, “your mate Billy McKee.” She laughed as Lewis remembered a night when he took a short cut through the Royal Hotel’s yard and chanced upon Will as he ploughed his activity into some black girl in the shadows of the hotel. This was before he and Will commenced their relationship. A time before Will had joined the Army and lost the need to prove his manhood by screwing every girl, black or white, willing to accept his advances.

“So that was you beside the Royal that night?” Lewis enquired as he felt his past once again reach out to him.

“It was Lewis Smith and I remember your tongue hanging out in jealousy and Billy did so up to when he was called by the army.” Mary admitted; “but when he came back he had changed and wasn’t interested, he’d gone soft in the head.” Now Mary sounded disappointed while Lewis remained dumfounded and silent on the matter of Will’s sexual habits.

“Are you sure the kid’s Will’s?”

“It has red hair eh?” She laughed once more then left for the kitchen, declaring she no longer wished to converse on her past activity and it wasn’t any of his business to enquire.

“What are you going to do with the kid?” Lewis asked as he followed carrying a pile of plates, keeping his voice low less Joyce would hear.

“I don’t want it, I gave it to my mother; she said if I don’t come and get it she will give it to the government.”

“So what was that with Jimmy and the red haired ghost then?” Lewis asked, placing the plates aside while anxiously waiting for her answer.

“That was just Jimmy trying to scare me because he disagrees with me having a baby and not being married. He thinks he is every blackfella’s witchdoctor. I don’t want to talk about it anymore.” She concluded and started on the dishes as the cook returned from the store room.

“You do a good job with those dishes Mary, last time I had to do them again,” Mary held her silence, “did you hear me girl?” There was an impatient snap in Joyce’s tone.

“Ize’ do a good job missus cook,” Mary sarcastically replied.

As Lewis attended to the stove Mary once again came by him. “Or maybe Jimmy really did see the white ghost.” She declared with a wicked laugh.

“Have you been talking to Jimmy about when I lived in Mareeba?”

“I wouldn’t want to talk about you Lewis Smith.”

“Then what is all the foolery about a white joker with red hair looking for me?”

“Dunno’ you will have to ask Jimmy.”

“I did and he didn’t answer.”

“Dunno,” Mary quickly left to collect the last of the dishes from the dining room as she saw cook coming her way. Lewis commenced to follow but faltered at the door.

It was obviously useless continuing the dialogue as Mary was enjoying turning that emotional blade she had placed between his shoulder blades some time previously and no matter how serious he became, she only responded with her foolery. Lewis took a breath as if to speak as Mary walked away. He instead turned from the exchange, “doesn’t matter,” he softly responded and left the kitchen.

“What’s the matter Lewis?” Joyce asked as he reached the door.

“Nothing why?”

“You appear a little flustered. I’s Mary giving you cheek?”

“No she’s only being her usual belligerent self.”

“You tell me if she’s playing up, she has been warned often enough about flirting with the men.”

“Honestly Mrs. Marshall it wasn’t anything I can’t handle.”

Mary and the others remained at the station for a further two weeks, during that time Lewis saw little of her or Jimmy, as Jimmy preferred his own company, keeping to the lagoon. Some nights while Lewis took his usual walk around the lagoon he would come to Jimmy’s camp for conversation but no matter how he approached Jimmy wouldn’t relate further on his predicted demise or sighting of his so called white ghost.

No longer needed Mary and Molly returned to town, while Toby and Rex caught the mail truck back to Croydon, Jimmy simply faded away into the scrub without a word of his destination. Walter did relate seeing him close to the crossover to Freshwater but only from distance, Jimmy simply waved and continued on his way. He had his swag and what appeared to be a native hunting spear although he never clamed skill in using one. Lewis mentioned it may have been a walking stick as he did appeared to be favouring one leg.

For now Lewis put aside Jimmy’s red head ghost and Mary’s red head child, although the latter interested him greatly, as if it was true the child was from Will that would mean a little of Will remained. It was also time to do the rounds of the many windmills, as without proper maintenance there would be little water for stock during the coming dry. Also there was necessity to dig the new pit for the long-drop toilet behind the two houses as after the recent flood the old pit became filled with silt and as Walter roughly announced, there wasn’t any way he was going to dig his way through Stan’s and Lewis’ shit to deepen it. This time Stan’s suggestion to place it further away from the lagoon flood level was taken.

Often Lewis would look in on Horse and see how her gestation was progressing and as was his habit, bring her a sugar cube. On sighting him at the fence she would trot up to him and whinny loudly in expectation and if he were to tease her she would nudge his pocket until he relented. The problem being the other horses in the paddock soon cottoned onto why he was visiting and would line up in their turn for a cube, becoming a bitch session as they jockeyed for position.

Lewis also had the intended visit from his Cousin Liz and Ian on his mind although with little enthusiasm. No specific date had been given when they previously visited while he was in Sydney but as they were on holidays, he believed it would need to be soon. Eventually he came to the conclusion he was being somewhat childish and the past should be left as such, he therefore accepted their pending visit with a little more interest while deciding no matter how his cousin treated him, he would simply smile and remain reticent.

Gary’s stories are all about what life in Australia was like for a homosexual man (mostly, before we used the term, “gay”). Email Gary to let him know you are reading: Gary dot Conder at CastleRoland dot Net

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