Published: 14 Aug 2023

For Alun the ride to Ballarat was akin to crossing a divide in his life as if awakening from a dream. As a young boy Alun had visualized an acting career and recalled his father’s comment when he had shared his sentiment. When I grow up I’m going to be an actor, he had enthusiastically announced after returning home from a small part in his school’s play. Yes a bullshit actor was David’s reply and expressed with meaningful lament coming from a father’s unfulfilled expectations towards his son’s ambition. Even so the father’s disappointment didn’t dampen his enthusiasm, while Sylvia, his mother, outwardly went along with the father’s desires, with Alun’s only encouragement being from his older brother Peter.

The destination for Alun and Taylor was a rural setting near Buninyong and a short distance from the provincial city of Ballarat in the heartland of the Victorian gold fields. Ballarat was famous for the Eureka rebellion, being a cornerstone for the film. Buninyong was also relevant to the project, as it held many of the grand old buildings from its golden days that would become backdrop to some of the filming.

Their home for the next month is to be a hobby farm owned by a wealthy associate of Lucas Barrington. On the property were a modern house and five colonial cottages the owner had transported, after saving them from demolition to make way for development in Ballarat. It had been the owner’s intention to create colonial style holiday lets but before the project had developed further he had lost interest.

On arrival the driver quickly transferred the lads and their belongings into the care of the property manager, who introduced himself as Stu’ Mulga a once horseman from the far north of Queensland who had, in his words, been stranded in the cold south because of failed marriage and a warrant issued against his name for nonpayment of family maintenance.

“Names?” Stu’ demands in a brash tone as the lads alighted from their ride.

“Alun Hughes.”

“Taylor Hardwick.”

“I suppose you will be city jokers with no country experience – am I correct?”

“That sounds about right,” Alun agrees.

“I have had a little from when I was a lad,” Taylor admits.

“What does a little mean Taylor?”

“I spent my early years on sheep and cattle stations where my mother was the cook.”

Stu’ ignores Taylor’s self confessed limited admittance, “what about you Alan?”

“None at all Stu’.”

“What’s the accent?”

“Sorta’ British.”

“Sorta’ doesn’t evaluate to bush life – does it?”

“True.”

“It is my understanding there will be scenes where you will be riding horses and one where you both race at a gallop and I suppose neither of you have ever been on the back of a horse.”

“A merry-go-around,” Alun laughs.

“I won second prize for riding at the Hughenden Show,” Taylor proudly shares.

“There won’t be any show riding here lad.”

“It is as well, I was only five, my horse bolted into the arena, I lost my hat and she bowled over one of the judges. Years later my mother said they gave us all second prize.”

“Nice story but I won’t get ahead of myself. Firstly living arrangements,” Stu’ says, “grab ya’ bags and follow me.”

Stu’ leads the way past the main house to a row of cottages, “you will use the first cottage, it hasn’t mains electricity but there is a generator for lighting and powerful enough for simple appliances such as a toaster and the lights but a warning don’t go plugging in more than one appliance at the same time.”

“What about recharging mobiles?” Alun asks.

“If you need to use the little buggers, there shouldn’t be any worry as they don’t pull down much power. I guess neither of you have started a generator?”

Both lads remain silent.

“No matter that is my job, you will find the cottage small but comfortable. It has a kitchen although your meals will be in the main house but as for showering, you can either use the communal bathroom adjoining the house, or the dam.” Stu’ crossed the low verandah of the cottage, his heavy boots dancing loose boards as he opens the door. “One bedroom, two bunks but I believed you are here to associate, so being close shouldn’t be a problem.” Stu’ gives a weak smile, “– yes associate, I like that word – Any questions?”

“I don’t think so.” Alun says.

“Righto’ I’ll let you settle in and I’ll introduce you to the crew later on.”

“Crew, how many are there?” Alun asks.

“It varies on what is programmed, they will be instructing you over your stay and I believe there will be some filming but in the most it is to get some country into you city jokers. I should think Simon will call in as soon as you have settled.”

“Who is Simon?” Alun asks.

“Simon Fowler is the production manager; or something like that. He’ll fill you in when he comes by.”

With Stu’ gone it is time for the lads to explore their abode for the near future. Firstly the bedroom and the beds, one is under a small window, there are also two cupboards and a washstand with porcelain bowl and water jug as the cottage doesn’t have plumbing.

“Primitive but Barrington did warn us to expect it so,” Alun exclaims.

“Yes but it could be fun. Which bed do you want?”

“I’ll have the window,” Alun decides, “quite comfy’ he says as he throws his weight onto the bed, “squeaky springs.”

“Then there will be no after lights activity,” Taylor laughs.

“You’re meaning Taylor?”

“Never mind Logan,” Taylor says.

“I get your insinuation Chance.”

They both burst into laughter.

“Better check the kitchen,” Taylor leads the way and finds the kitchen as primitive as the bedroom.

“Wood burning stove, Taylor points to the black monstrosity set off in one corner.

“I wondered what it is,” Alun says.

“My mother had one on the station when she was the cook. Also an uncle on a farm in Gippsland but his was only used for heating during the winter.”

“Can you cook?” Alun is becoming concerned as he was accustomed to restaurant style meals and takeaway, while the oven in his apartment was used mainly as a storage unit.

“I reckon I can boil water and at a pinch make toast and eggs,” Taylor laughs and collects a list from the kitchen table. “No worries,” he says in relief.

“What do you mean?”

“It appears we will have meals at the main house and the refrigerator is for drinks and snacks.”

“It isn’t what I thought acting would be about,” Alun appears to show disappointment with the arrangements.

“I believe Jack Cowper came here during the filming,” Taylor says.

“Then if it is good enough for Cowper; I guess it will be good enough for us. What else is on the list?”

“Mostly it is does and don’ts, one being not to aggravate the neighbour as he has a short fuse and to keep off his land.”

“So then Taylor, you had a country upbringing?”

“I didn’t always live in the country. It was a long time ago and definitely not what you read about these days.”

Alun laughs, “A long time ago?” he questions.

“For a kid it was a long time and a lot had happened since then.”

“Country to me when I was growing up in England was a postage stamp size garden plot at the rear of townhouse in London that only got sun for two months of the year, although my early years played out on the rolling hills of Wales. You said it wasn’t all country for you?”

“Not always.” What Taylor wished to express was that first day at boarding school, his first day away for horses, from his mother from the flat dry openness of Queensland’s mid west. Instead of a school room with ten pupils over six grades and one teacher, he had a host of unforgiving boys who enjoyed nothing more than to initiate the newcomer with ever increasing torment. Taylor may have wished to share those daunting times, instead with a smile and a breath he drove the memories away.

“You say your mother was a cook, did your old man also work on the property?”

“No mum said he died after leaving us when I was only a few months old.”

With the answer Taylor appeared to close down and Alun was astute enough not to push further into his friend’s private past, “I wonder what we do for nighttime entertainment?” he asks.

“Count the stars I should think,” Taylor suggests.

“Ballarat isn’t far and I should think it is big enough to have a club of some merit.”

Taylor huffs.

“What’s the muse?”

“Without transport, we would need to ride into town.”

“Horses?” Alun loudly states coming more an expletive than a question.

Taylor’s eyes become bright and eager, “Why not I’m game if you are.”

Alun quickly backs away from Taylor’s proposal, “Mr. Barrington said there will be a vehicle we can use.”

“Do you drive Alun?”

“I am licensed and can but living in the city I didn’t find it necessary to have a car, occasionally I have been known to borrow mum’s BMW but dad won’t let me near his precious Lexus.”

Once the lads had settled Stu’ returned, “knock-knock,” he loudly calls from the open cottage door. Taylor goes to answer. “Have you found everything?” Stu’ asks.

“Yes we have thank you Stu’.”

“Did you find the bosses instruction sheet?”

“Sheets yes but it isn’t what I expected of a movie studio,” Alun admits.

“It has some fancy name, something like learning the part by living it. Did you see the large shed as you arrived?”

“I did and didn’t realize they would make tin sheds that large,” Alun admits.

“It’s some sorta’ studio and has filming equipment so you will probably spend time there but that isn’t part of my job description, mine is to make sure you are comfy and don’t get yourselves into bother.”

“What kind of bother Stu’?” Alun asks.

“Mostly you don’t drown in the dam, or get bit’ by a snake as there are plenty of the little buggers. Has Simon called by?”

“Not as yet Stu’.”

“Anyway Frank will be along to see you soon.”

“Who is Frank?”

“He is something to do with keeping things accurate for the times; authenticity I think is his word for it. I suppose you young jokers can’t do without entertainment, so there is a vehicle at your disposal for visits into town.”

“Now you’re talking my language,” Alun laughs.

“Don’t get too excited, as for the duration most of your nights will be well organized,” Stu’ straightens his hat and releases a soft huff towards their youth and frivolous attitude, “I’ll be off then; if you need anything I’ll be on the ride-on.”

“What is a ride-on?” Taylor questions.

“Lawnmower, don’t you city folk know anything?”

“Ride-on,” Alun says once Stu’ had departed, “dad wouldn’t buy a motor mower and made me and my brother push some flaming antique around the yard every Sunday.”

“You have negatively mentioned your father on a number of occasions. Don’t the two of you get along?” Taylor questions.

“Not a lot as he has strange ideas how to bring up a kid and none of them are in my manual.”

“What did your old man say when he saw you in the television commercials?”

“Only poofters and girls do acting.”

“Yet here you are and you are neither.”

“What about you Taylor?”

“Much like you in some aspects but my mother is quite supportive towards my acting.”

“Have you done any films?”

“I’ve had some bit parts and a speaking part in one of Barrington’s earlier films but I was quite young then. I even had a part in Eighteen-thirteen although if you blinked you would have missed me.”

“What part did you play?”

“I was one of the convicts offloaded onto the Sydney docks with Edward, or should I say Jack Cowper as he played Edward.”

“I will have to view it again and look you out.”

“Don’t blink as it was only for an instant and not a speaking part.”

“So here we are together and somewhat novice, why do you think he choose us for Logan and Chance?”

“He likes to keep his parts fresh and as he says uncorrupted by fame.”

“That is definitely me,” Alun jovially admits.

“Ditto.”

“How long have you known Lucas Barrington?”

“Quite some time.”

“What do you know about him?”

Taylor appears hesitant his answer, “Like what?” he quietly asks.

“I suppose in general, I wasn’t attempting to ply into his private life.”

“Let’s say quite some and leave it at that as he is a very private person. I think we should take a look around the property and get a feel for it?”

It was the third day before anything constructive towards filming eventuated. After breakfast the boys were introduced to Ruth Crain as Director of Costume and invited to join with her in the second cottage along from theirs for costume fitting. Ruth was a portly woman who by first appearance could have been mistaken for someone’s granny, she had a deep melodious tone and as would become apparent a wicked sense of humor, it was the old lady’s glasses with the neck string that gave her the granny appearance.

The boys hadn’t visited any of the cottages except their own and were most surprised to discover its use as costume storage. The cottage was larger than the others, with two bedrooms, one used for fitting while the other was set up towards design and alterations.

On arrival Ruth quickly escorted the boys into the fitting room.

At first being in costume was awkward as most of what they were issued was heavy and hot with the boys being accustomed to shorts and t-shirts. What the period asked for were trousers made from rough cotton or moleskin that were tight at the waist, with a wide waistband to fall like stovepipes to the ankles. As for shirts they were tight fitting with sleeves, sometimes with full front buttons or half buttons but it was the period underwear of long-johns they found to be most restrictive.

“Do we have to wear these?” Alun quizzically holds up the garment for inspection.

“I’m afraid so Alun,” Ruth softly says.

“Why, who see’s your underwear?”

“What about the scene when you are stripping down for swimming?”

“The script says naked and not swimming in underwear,” Alun suggests.

“True but when you strip to naked, I don’t think the audience would miss a pair of modern jockettes, especially the pair you are wearing.”

“What is wrong with teddy bears?”

Ruth laughs “nothing if you are a ten year old.”

“They were a present from my girlfriend. Couldn’t I wear the long-johns for that scene only?”

“No you need to become accustomed to the full costume; also the sleeves and neckline of the underwear will be visible through the shirt, so please no arguments and stick to requirements. Right then; it is dress up time,” Ruth announces.

Alun appears hesitant.”

“Are you shy Alun?” Ruth asks.

“I’m not accustomed to being naked in company.”

“By the end of filming you will think of it as second nature. I need to be here to see if everything fits. If you like for now leave your teddy bears under the long-johns.”

“Alun pulls on the long-johns, then the moleskin trousers. They fitted to the waist but had an amount of looseness. He suggests so.

“Turn around,” Ruth says and as he turns she tightens a strap with a buckle at the rear, “how does that feel?”

“Tighter but the underwear is restrictive of free movement.”

“You will accustom to it by filming.”

“What’s this flap for?” Alun lifts the square flap of buttoned material at the front of the trousers and again allows it to fall open.

“Can’t you guess Alun,” Ruth broadly smiles.

“Sorta’.”

Taylor laughs and quickly represents an answer, “it’s for quick access for pissing.”

“You have it in one,” Ruth agrees.

“Oh, will all our pants have flaps?”

“Not all, depending on the scene and the activity. Try on the shirt,” Ruth suggests.

“Half buttons, I hope my head fits through the neck,” Alun says.

“It will.”

Alun pulls the shirt over his head, “it fits but is tight under the arms.”

“I’ll adjust that later.”

“I don’t think much of the pants but I actually like the shirt,” Alun admits and turns to Taylor, “what about you?”

“Mine fits okay.”

“Now the boots and made for you both at some expense. As for socks, they are thick and made of wool, so on hot days they may feel a little uncomfortable.”

“As does the rest,” Alun growls.

Once dressed Ruth had the boys walk about to determine any further need for adjustment, she is satisfied; “perfect you look the part.” As she speaks there is a call from the cottage verandah and the sound of heavy boots across loose boards.

“Anyone about?”

“We are in here Terry.”

A tall lean man enters into the cottage wearing a weathered Akubra hat, his face shaded by its large brim with only his square bristled chin visible.

Noticing the boys in costume he gives a cheeky grin, “very pretty,” he says.

“You think so,” Ruth adjusts Taylor’s waistband. “Boys meet Terry Long; he will be your riding instructor for today.”

“I thought Stu’ would be our instructor?” Alun questions.

“He would be if he didn’t flaming-well fall off his horse,” Terry laughs.

“Is he alright?”

“Yea, nothing broken, he only has a bruised pride. He was caught up with a low hanging tree branch down past the dam – wasn’t watching where he was going.”

“All finished,” Ruth declares with a gentle slap to Alun’s backside.

“They look the part if nothing else, now for some fun. Let’s find out if you can ride a horse in that gear, or if at all.”

“What right now?” Alun gasps, as although they had been informed there would be horse riding during some scenes, he would have preferred the lessons to come later on once accustomed to the idea and not almost as soon as they arrived.

“I’m afraid so. The sooner I introduce you to the horses, the quicker you will find confidence.”

The stables were beside the studio and held three horses. As they came close, it was Taylor who noticed the difference between their intended mounts and the stock horses he would ride as a lad.

“They are descended from the horses that roam the high plateaus of the Snowy Mountains and broken-in at considerable cost,” Terry explains.

“Why use wild horses?” Taylor asks.

“They are more akin to what was around during the mid eighteen hundreds, while modern horses are bread for stock work.”

“Are they tame?” Alun asks

Terry laughs; “you do realise they are wild animals, not pets and if you don’t understand them and treat them correctly, they will give you a hard time.” He notes the concern with both lads and continues, “don’t worry they are broken for riding.”

“Should we change into riding gear?” Taylor asks.

“You are in them, come on it’s time for your first riding lesson.”

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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