Published: 22 Jan 2024

Maryfarm was handsomely displayed in large black letters on a slab of Bluegum above the property gate and as the bus past through a grand colonial homestead in sandstone comes into view. For the third time during the drive, or possibly more and pinged by Taylor, Alun had removed his mobile from his pocket and scanned for emails.

“Expecting something?” Taylor asks.

“Could be,” Alun gives a cheeky wink without disclosure but as for his winnings Alun remained disappointed, believing he had been scammed as he had never checked the numbers for himself, only accepting the newsagent’s word his was the winning ticket.

“Oh well,” he sighed as he pockets his mobile.

“Well what?” Taylor asks.

“Never mind it isn’t important.”

Taylor leans in towards Alun while speaking softly not to be heard by others, “of late you have so many half finished sentences that someone would think you have something to hide. I thought I was the one with the half finished sentences.”

Alun gives Taylor a friendly shove away, “get away with ya’, what would I have to hide?”

All eyes on the bus turn towards Alun’s question.

“Well?” Alun stresses to them all.

A number of heads humorously shake as Rickey speaks from further up the bus, “with you two, who can say.” Laughter erupts then quickly dies away with expectation towards their new living quarters and the job ahead.

The bus pulls up on gravel in front of double oak doors inlaid with brightly coloured stained glass and brass fittings. Simon is first out and directs everyone to wait inside the large hall while he goes to find the caretaker. He soon returns to explain a number of rules and regulations.

“Right,” Simon says above the hum of conversation.” He takes a pause and glances towards the property gate. There should be another bus following but somehow it has become delayed and he isn’t pleased as he will need to explain the accommodation for a second time. Simon waits for a minute or so then without its arrival he continues.

“I need your attention please, there are a few important rules you will all need to heed to.”

The talking stops.

“Firstly Mr. Barrington has gone to great ends and expense to hire Maryfarm for the filming, so I want one and all to treat the old girl like you would your woman.”

They all laugh.

“And I don’t mean root her okay. The house and estate are the property of the National Trust. You will not be billeted in the main building but the holiday rentals adjoining the stables and some may need to share two or three to a room during the time we are here – any questions?”

“Where do we have our meals?” one of the road crew calls from the rear. It had been a long drive with many bellies demanding sustenance.

“Meals will be served in the main dining room here at the house or barbeque down by the river, that depending on the weather. One final thing, there is a list in the office of who is sharing the rooms. If there are problems come and see me after the other bus arrives.”

As the crew dispersed towards their billets Simon calls the boys aside. “Alun and Taylor can I speak with you firstly.”

The boys remain behind until everyone has gone.

“I have placed Ralph in your room as I would like you to help him with his rehearsals.”

“That’s fine,” Alun agrees.

Simon hesitates, “I have heard it said that Ricky has been giving the lad grief?”

“I’ve already spoken with Ricky, I don’t think he’ll bother Ralph again,” Taylor assures.

“I hope not, the last thing we need on set is another lawsuit.”

“You say another lawsuit Simon,” Alun confronts.

“Yes we had a problem with Jack Cowper and one of the young roadies but it amounted to nothing.”

“Is that why Cowper went to America?” Alun asks.

“No, he was offered a contract in some soapy but it is as well, he may have talent but was full of himself.”

“Will Mr. Barrington be making another movie?” Alun asks Simon.

“That’s a good question and still under discussion, his last made a loss with some suggesting it was more a tax dodge than any attempt at something lasting. This time he has been approached by an American television network and one of the local threatre chains is quite interested,” Simon softly chuckles then continues, “that is as long as he doesn’t turn it into a version of Queer as Folk.”

“I never saw the series,” Alun claims, “I did see The Sum of Us with Russell Crowe and Jack Thompson and thought it was well handled. In truth it was Russell’s handling of his part as Jeff Mitchell that eventually convinced me to take on the part of Logan.”

“I can’t stand around chatting all afternoon, as I need to keep an eye on the crew before they hit the piss and get a little rowdy with the furnishings.”

As Simon departs Ralph sidles up to Taylor, “what’s up?” he asks.

“You are in with us,” Taylor enlightens.

“Good, I was afraid I’d be with Ricky.”

“I have spoken to Ricky, I should think he’ll leave you be from now on.”

The boy’s billet was close to the pool with the river as a backdrop. As they approached Alun’s mobile telephone begins to sound off in his pocket.

“Someone loves ya’,” Taylor says as Alun retrieves the device.

“It’s only an email.”

Alun checks the message and in doing so his eyes become as bright as the late summer’s day.

“Good news, I hope.”

“The best – your banking app works.” Alun admits as he verifies his account balance. After giving Peter most of what he had, he should be left with one hundred and twenty dollars, now that figure had ten million to its front. He carefully counts the zeros and there is enough to give him joy. “Did Simon suggest we would be going into town at any time?” he asks.

“Not during this session but we have the use of a vehicle; have you a problem with your account?”

“Far from it,”

Taylor wished to question further but Alun could be secretive when it suited while obliging in his own time.

During the remainder of the day Alun remained in disbelief. Many times he viewed his online account and couldn’t stop smiling but a question was looming like an uninvited visitor, what would he do with his winnings? He again recalled the newsagent’s advise that being bank it and do some cleaver investing. He wished to let everyone know but there was a job to finish and a career that had just commenced, so he would need to think clearly towards his future. Now instead of accepting his prize as good fortune, it weighed heavily against his future plans, possibly making a career in acting all but redundant.

Filming of the bushfire scene from earlier in the plot was considered arse-about, as it was that part of the story before Logan and Chance departed for the south and now scheduled for the following morning. The filming had been arranged to coincide with the CFA’s early season burn along the stretch of the river close by the Maryfarm Estate, therefore the Firies, their trucks and equipment would be an extra level of safety. As it would be beneficial to unite filming with the burn agreement had been obtained with an offer of a financial donation to the Country Fire Authority. Simon’s main quandary with the controlled burn would be to keep modern from that of colonial during the shooting, the last he needed so late in filming, would be a distant view of a fire truck through the smoke haze.

It was obvious Alun had more on his mind then his role in the following day’s shooting and as Simon did his rounds checking the readiness of the equipment, he found Alun in pensive mood looking in on the horses.

“New horses,” Alun suggests somewhat cautiously.

“They will be quiet enough for you, besides there will be a stuntman for any of your fancy riding.”

“So you said and he looks similar to me.”

“Similar yes, a little taller I should think but what about your fear of horses?”

“I’ve sort of gotten over my fear of them, although the big chestnut is giving me the evil eye.” As if understanding Alun’s concern the chestnut stamps a hoof and snorts.

“You appear as if you have something other than the new mounts troubling you.”

“What makes you say that Simon?”

“It’s my job to know your every mood and I say you appear troubled, so do you wish to share.”

“Simon I assure you I won’t let you down.”

“It would be best if you and Taylor have an early night,” Simon says and lingers but his eyes are searching Alun as if attempting to discover what was troubling the lad. Eventually he appears satisfied and breaks away to check on Ricky and wardrobe.

‘I should tell Simon about my winnings,’ Alun silently suggest, instead he takes the short walk to the river some distance beyond the stables, ‘troubled,’ he gives a huff, ‘funny I should be excited, instead the money is already giving me grief.’

‘Like everything it will work itself out.’

‘I really should tell Taylor.’

‘Once it settles and the filming is through, I should give something towards Peter’s business project.’

‘And help mum.’

Alun sits on the grassy bank where it gently sloped on freshly mowed lawn towards the waters of the Campaspe. He takes a deep perplexing breath, his head is buzzing as if a hive of bees had made home there, while he remains in quandary what to do with his winnings. True like most he had dreamed of richness but in reaching that desire was proving to be more stressful than being poor. Even so Alun still failed to fully believe what his bank account revealed and at the first opportunity he would visit town, find a bank or a teller machine, withdrawing an amount greater then what was in his account before the transfer. Doing so would prove his fortune beyond doubt. Alun gives an unconscious nod of agreement towards his futile decision as a voice from behind dislodges further reflection.

“Enjoying the last of the warm weather lad?”

Alun turns sharply and lifts his hand to shade from the late afternoon sun’s glare as it dips its passage behind the tall trees, “I know you from somewhere,” he says.

“I’m the caretaker here at Maryfarm. What is your name lad?”

“Alun Hughes, I am with the cast.”

“Yes you are the lead in Barrington’s latest project.”

“One of two leads I should think.”

“How do you like the part?”

“I was a little wary at first – I feel I know you from somewhere other than here at Maryfarm.”

“My name is Wilson Picket.”

“Now I remember. You played the lead in East Coast Surfing. As a kid you were my hero, I bought the DVD and watched it at least a dozen times until my old man took it while I was out and smashed it.”

“Are you keen on surfing?”

“I was Mr. Picket but don’t get much opportunity these days. As I said you were my hero.”

“I had hair then and all my own teeth. Long blond dreadlocks and – well you get the picture and it isn’t that of Dorian Gray.”

Alun fails to understand the similarity “are you still acting Mr. Picket?”

“There isn’t much call for an aging surfer.”

“What of other roles?”

“Let me give you some advice lad, acting is a cruel business and while your name is up there in lights, everyone wants to know you and make money from your name, while paying you nothing. Back when I made those surfing films the pay was peanuts, any money made was by the industry, while those who did the acting were but cogs in its money making machine.”

“You paint a depressing picture Mr. Picket.”

“I’ll give you some advice lad, get out of it while you have your youth, or in no time at all you will be me.” The aging surfer gives a half smile, more representing pain from what could have been while feeling the anguish of his past. A second nod, an inward breath, “you enjoy the sun lad, as it soon sets. I’ll leave you to your thoughts, as I need to keep an eye on the rest of your lot before they destroy the furnishings.”

Alun remained seated beside the river for some time after the caretaker departed. His thoughts fleeting as he attempted to concentrate on his prize, his future career and what Wilson Picket advised but there was a blockage allowing each though to form but no more. Eventually he cleared the blockage, ‘it will work out,’ he silently convinces and with the advice he leaves the serenity of the river to find Taylor.

The bushfire scene went without a hitch; the CFA crew started a grass fire, while the boys representing Logan and Chance with many extras dressed in heavy sweat producing costumes, played at preventing it from spreading. Once enough footage was in the can, the Firies went about their business damping down, then once done they were invited back for a barbeque with the cast and crew.

The filming season was quickly approaching finality, with only the last chapter and a number of repeat scenes needing attention. Alun had been too busy to consider his lottery winning and except for a call from Peter and two emails from Jillian, he had little contact with the outside world. It appeared Jillian’s part in The Gardener was well accepted and she was looking forward to the extended season in New York. Although her emails were long and self promoting nothing was mention about their future relationship.

It was Friday and the boys would not be needed on set until the following Monday, so Alun decided to visit town to put his hypothesis on withdrawing the money into action. As the next remittance from the film wouldn’t hit his account until later the following week, he would only need to withdraw a couple of hundred dollars to go below that of his winning. So with permission to use one of the company’s vehicles he approached Taylor.

“Seeing we have the weekend free how would you like to go into town, possibly take a room, find a friendly bar and get pissed.”

“I’ve never seen you drunk, well totally that is,” Taylor says.

“So it’s a yes?”

“Why not.”

The town of Rochester was in the midst of a pumpkin festival, therefore anything to do with growing pumpkin from scones, to soup to a competition rolling large pumpkins down Policeman’s hill without smashing became entertainment. Because of the many tourists to town, accommodation was difficult to find and after his fourth attempt Alun returns from the hotel booking office somewhat dejected.

“No luck?” Taylor asks.

“Yes and no.”

“What kind of dumb answer is that?”

“They have only single room left with a double bed.”

“I think we have been living close enough over the past months to share a bed,” Taylor admits.

“I supposed that would be your answer, so I took it. Firstly I need to find the Commonwealth bank.”

“If you need cash I’ve got enough,” Taylor offers.

“I always feel more comfortable having a few dollars on me whenever I’m about, as not everyone in country towns is happy with plastic.”

It wasn’t difficult to find the bank as it was almost next to their hotel. Alun joins the short line for the automatic teller machine. He is third in the line with Taylor waiting close by. Eventually it is his turn. Oddly his hand is trembling so badly he punches in the wrong pin.

“Can’t you remember your pin?” Taylor asks.

“Shush – I hit the wrong key that’s all.”

This time he has success and the machine spits out three one hundred dollar bills.”

“Why do you need that much?” Taylor asks.

“You do ask a lot of questions Taylor – I just do that’s all.” Then as if by magic the machine spits out the balance slip. Alun reads the balance and at last he believes in miracles. As quickly as the machine offered the balance chit he folded it away in his wallet.

“You look like the cat that swallowed the canary?”

“Just happy Tay – just happy,” Alun says while pausing at the window of an estate agency. In the window is a large photograph of a property with rolling grassy hills leading to a well watered creek lined with willow trees, the house is high above the water on a hill, it is in sandstone on two levels with a verandah about three sides of the upper level.

Alun reads the description aloud, “tired of city living? – Colonial mansion of great elegance situated on thirty hectares of well watered land, ideal for the hobby farmer,” he pauses and repeats the final description and price, “you know something about country properties is two point three million a reasonable price?”

“It does appear a little on the cheap side.”

“Do you think it is because it may need a lot of work?”

“I would think it’s more the size of the land as there isn’t a lot you can do with it, except as suggested start a hobby farm for some rich business man.”

“Could you live there Tay?”

“I could.”

“What about furthering your acting career?”

“That is a funny question, seeing we are only gawking at the properties perspective.”

“I’ve been thinking a lot of the future of late.”

“I only took on the role of Chance as a favour to Mr. Barrington. I had already decided it would be my last. What about you Alun, we only have a couple of week of filming left, what will you do?”

“Like Jack Cowper I was hoping to pick up a part in some soapy, if not in America possibly here in Home and Away as they are always looking for a new face.”

“Then like Jack you may need to sleep to the top, how do you think he got that part in Hollywood?”

“I sort of guessed so but that isn’t my scene.”

“What is your scene Alun? Taylor asks.

“It is still developing but for once I think acting isn’t in my future either but do you regard so little of my acting ability I would have to sell my arse to get on?”

“No you are a good actor although some wouldn’t think twice if it helped to get ahead as there is little opportunity in this country.”

“Would you Taylor?”

“As I said I don’t wish to further my acting career.”

Taylor walks on but Alun remains captivated with the advertisement for the so called perfect hobby farm.”

At the door to the hotel Taylor waits for Alun to catch up, “you like that property Alun?”

“A man can dream can’t he?”

“I gave up dreaming a long time ago.”

“Why?”

“When mum took me away from station life and came back here to Victoria my dreaming stopped.”

“You are a free spirit now, why don’t you go back up country?”

“There are two good reasons, the first mum isn’t as well as she appears and needs me around.”

“What of the second?”

“The second can remain unspoken.”

“Is it because you are gay?”

“That is in part but not in total. You can stop fishing Alun as I’m not prepared to speak further.”

If finding a room proved difficult, finding a booking at any of the town’s restraints for the night’s meal was even more so, eventually they settled for a pub meal in the sports bar while watching Australia thrash England in the fifth and final cricket test for the English season. Settling down with a large steak, chips and three veggies, not forgetting a schooner of beer, it was time to watch the antics of the patrons, being a game they both enjoyed whenever in such company.

Alun becomes animated, “sitting here reminds me of when your father introduced himself to you. Have you contacted him since?”

“I decided not to.”

“Any reason?”

“Blood doesn’t make family; you are more my family than that man we met in the bar.”

“I like that; oow, I’ve become all emotional,” Alun laughs.

“Anyway I would think rekindling a relationship with him may upset mum.”

Close by is a group of young lads and by their conversation obviously townies, itching to get among the visiting females for the festival. One of the lads appeared to show more attention to Taylor than any of the girls, which didn’t go unnoticed by Alun.

“You’ve found yourself a fan,” Alun gives Taylor a sharp dig to the ribs.

“Who?’

“That fella’ at the table nearest the door with the ginger hair, he’s been gawking at your for ages.”

“You reckon.”

“I know interest when I see it. You’re in there for the night fella’. If you like I can take a walk so you can use the room.”

As Alun makes the suggestion, the ginger lad rises with his mates and leaves the bar; he takes a final glance towards Taylor before departing. “There goes your fun for the night.”

“You win some, you lose some.”

Close by where the local lads had been seated, is a table of girls one has long blond hair and a bow smile. She had been watching the boys for some time, eventually with obvious suggestion from her mates her courage rises enough to approach and it is Alun who holds her interest. “Are you from the movie they are making out at Maryfarm?” she asks.

“We are,” Alun agrees.

“I know you,” she suggests of Alun, “you were in that commercial on television.”

“You got me again,” Alun said.

“I’m Debbie and I’ve been watching you for some time,” she runs her hand suggestively along Alun’s thigh, “what are you doing tonight?” she asks as the tip of a finger gently reaches its target and finds hardening beneath.

“I’m already promised,” Alun says.

“That’s a pity.”

“Possibly another time Debbie.”

Debbie shows disappointment and returns to her friend, they all glance back and giggle before returning to their conversation.

“What are your alternate arrangements?” Taylor asks.

“As I said get drunk and like you announced earlier I’m not prepared to speak further.”

“That doesn’t make sense.” Taylor says.

“Sense enough for me, I’m building towards something – come on my shout, do you want another beer?”

During their drinking session the boys were approached on a number of occasions with the usual comment about their work on the film. At first the attention gave Alun pleasure but it soon became irritating and he was more than pleased when the crowd thinned to find entertainment with what the pumpkin festival had to offer.

Eleven o’clock and country closing, “last drinks please,” the barman calls.

“One for the road?” Taylor suggests.

“Not for me I’ve had all I need.”

“Need; what does that mean?”

Alun gives a smug grin without elaborating.

“Alun you’ve been acting strange all day what’s up?”

“As I said, I’m building up to something. Come on I want take another look at that property in the real estate’s window.”

At the window Alun appears to be concentrating on every aspect of the property’s description, then as if he had come to a decision he moved on, “I can hear music.”

“They sound like the Back Seat Boys.” Taylor says as they hurry towards the town hall, only to arrive as cheering comes to climax and the music ends, “how many times have we missed seeing our favorite band.”

“True; we may be lucky next time.”

“What now, it appears the town is closing down for the night.”

Alun remains silent as they make their way back to their room, obviously there is something bothering him. Taylor attempts to read his friend’s sentiment, he believes he can read Alun but there is nothing obliging from someone who had overindulged.

Alun almost falls through their room doorway, he rights himself.

“You’re pissed!” Taylor quietly says keeping his voice low not to disturb others.

“A little, I think the night air has got to me as I felt quite sober after leaving the bar,” Alun giggles and flops down onto the bed.

“I’m going to take a shower,” Taylor undresses to his underwear, “what about you?”

“You first.”

Taylor steps under the water, “hey Alun; what should we do tomorrow? Salisbury Falls isn’t far from town.”

“I have to see someone about a little idea I working on.”

“What would that be?”

Alun doesn’t answer.

“Did you hear me Alun?”

“I’m right behind you.”

Taylor turns his head to find Alun naked and stepping into the shower.

“I won’t be long.”

“I’ll join you,” Alun moves close and moments later Taylor can feel the heat of Alun’s body along his back even through the warmth of the shower water.

“Alun you’re drunk!”

“Shush, I’m not that drunk that I don’t know what I am doing. If you remember a conversation we had some time back.”

“We’ve had lots of conversations, which one are you referring to?”

“I said I would let you but to put it on the back burner –It’s time to bring it forward to the heat.”

“Oh!”

“Have I shocked you Tay?”

“Yes, although it is a good shock and I can see you are ready in more ways than one.”

Alun wraps his arms around Taylor from behind and kisses him on the neck. His caress travels through Taylor’s body like electricity, reaching his crotch with equal power.

“No not shocked only I once had a relationship with a straight boy and got nothing but grief.”

I promise that won’t happen although you will need to guide me through tonight.”

“I don’t know,”

“Alun backs away, “sorry I’m being presumptuous assuming you would want the same thing.”

“That was never in doubt; of course I want to.”

“I do have one question that may come a little from left field,” Alun suggests.

“Go ahead I’m listening,”

“After the film is finished and no one is watching it, would you like to share somewhere with me?”

“Won’t you be living with Jillian?’

“She will be with the play in New York for an extended season and she said there is suggestion of further work there. I very much doubt we will be starting back in the future.”

“Yes I believe we could live together, what have you in mind?”

“It is only at the suggestion stage, I’m more sounding you out.” Alun takes Taylor’s hand and lowers it to his member.

Taylor follows Alun’s lead, “what now he nervously says.

“I’m under your command for the night. I haven’t a clue, so how about moving to the bed.”

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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