Published: 28 Apr 2025
Kevin’s first recollections of his surroundings were from Dunluce sheep station. They were of Ivy at her work, his horse Roany and somewhere in the background was Taffy Jones. As Taffy was always about, firstly on the station then in Torrens Creek, it was a fair enough assumption for the lad to believe Taffy was his father. In retrospect there was a glimpse of contradiction towards that belief, being the night Kevin left Taffy’s tommyhawk at the Torrens Creek hotel and Taffy in drunken state commenced to slap Ivy.
Digressing the story Kevin had been standing on the kitchen table with his foot in a dettol infused wash for a cut foot when the incident occurred and as Taffy became violent towards his mother Kevin thumped his little fists into the top of Taffy’s skull shouting, don’t you hit my mother. That incident later became part of the catalyst to Kevin’s understanding Taffy wasn’t in any way related, as obviously Ivy was his mother and not Taffy’s wife. It may have been somewhat stretching the past but there was very little else to create understanding of a very confusing family situation.
During Kevin’s time on Dunluce before going to Torrens Creek there had been a trip to Melbourne to visit his grandparents without Taffy. It could be thought that was indication Taffy wasn’t welcome by the extended family. Also a recollection of something his mother said many years previously, that along with further knowledge about his father became revellent. During a school holiday while staying with his mother at the Mareeba Hospital staff quarters, Ivy had said about family they couldn’t mind their own business. Kevin never understood what she meant but later and in retrospect he considered it was to do with the break up between his mother and father and Ivy’s decision to leave for Queensland with an almost stranger Taffy Jones. Possibly there had been altercation between Ivy and the family. That with Ivy’s wish for privacy therefore made sense.
Kevin remembered nothing about travelling to Melbourne except for a late night stop at the Victorian border for a rail gauge change but did remember being at his grandparent’s house also his grandmother had an old cockatoo parrot. Cocky was a good talker and loved to curse at visitors, often upsetting the old lady’s sense of ethics by telling visitors to shut the bloody gate, and asking the vicar if he would like a glass of beer. Kevin’s uncles attempted to teach the old bird stronger curses but possibly cocky had a moral streak. What brought the ancient bird’s final undoing was during a fit of malice it took hold of the old lady’s finger and one of the boys had to give it a wack to make it release its hold, soon after cocky was given away and by account given twenty years later although lacking most of its feathers, was still telling people to shut the bloody gate
At that time Kevin’s grandfather worked for a market gardener in Clayton. With the work came the old residence as the market gardener had built a new house off property. There was also a cat called Fifi. Kevin recollects the cat as it was said Fifi brought home a small live snake, letting it go in the kitchen, giving Kevin’s grandmother the fright of her life. Later it was suggested Fifi caught one too many snakes when the cat was found dead in the yard.
More than likely Kevin’s memory of his visit to Melbourne had been bolstered by a number of his mother’s photographs he had access to over the years. Even so the parrot, his older cousin, grandmother and the house yard remained clear in his inward eye and if he turned an imaginary eye he could still visualise other landmarks that were out of photograph, such as a strawberry patch and trellising along the side of the old farm house.
There was one final incident to support that early memory being Kevin seated on a bench seat outside the kitchen door, he had collected a number of snails lining them on the bench when a visiting older cousin holding a baby used the infant’s foot to squash his snails. It is strange how such an incidental event can become paramount in one’s memory.
Not long after returning to Dunluce and towards the end of Kevin’s first school year it became necessity for him to be enrolled at a real school with other children and a trained teacher. During the year Kevin’s mother had been his teacher, receiving lessons by correspondence. Many outback children enjoyed the service of the School of the Air using a two-way wireless (radio) set. Although Dunluce had the telephone it didn’t have the luxury of two-way wireless, therefore by the conclusion of that first year, Ivy and Taffy decided to leave station life and set up in Torrens Creek.
Leaving Dunluce was made easier for Kevin as the station manager allowed him to keep his horse Roany and its foal Kicker, also giving Ivy a bung eyed heifer for milking. The house at Torrens Creek soon became a home and for a time Taffy managed the roll of partner for Ivy and father for young Kevin but that wasn’t to last as Taffy had a strong attraction towards alcohol.
Being around other kids was a new experience for Kevin as in the past there had only been the occasional visit to or from his cousins in Hughenden, a town half distance between Torrens Creek and Dunluce and the kid Jones from the adjoining property. What made life more pleasant was having his beloved horses, riding to school, even if from home to school was in walking distance, also lone bush riding during weekends.
Recollections of Torrens Creek, the school and their house in time became patchy, mostly of Taffy with his Alsatian dog called Marshy, Jenny the spaniel and a cat that Kevin decided to take to with a pair of scissors, cutting away the poor animal’s whiskers. Taffy also bought an incubator and began hatching chickens but like most things he soon become bored or the cost bit into his drinking money.
One must not forget the bung-eyed milking cow. The house had a large block attached that for a while held the horses and the cow but one morning she was discovered missing. Taffy blamed Ivy for leaving the wire gate down. In truth Taffy more than likely sold the animal for booze money.
During the following days Ivy with Kevin took to searching the scrub around town for the cow but she was well and truly gone. Ivy wasn’t one for riding so Kevin rode Roany with his mother beside on foot. During the late afternoon of the second day of their search they believed they spotted the cow but on closer inspection it was a young bull with similar markings.
By the time they commenced their homeward journey it was growing dark and the so called bird catcher spiders had spread their webs among the trees. If the spiders actually caught small birds could be fact or myth but their size wasn’t fiction with bodies as big as the palm of one’s hand. Ivy shrieked as she walked head first into one of the webs and swore as the spider thumped the top of her head before falling behind to the ground. Needless to say that was the last time either went in search of the bung-eyed cow.
About the same time as the cow went missing and shortly after Taffy’s outburst about the loss of his tommyhawk axe at the fancy dress party, there was a trip into Hughenden to visit Kevin’s cousins. That trip was the beginning of the end for playing happy families, soon after Ivy packed her bags and with a confused Kevin they departed Torrens Creek forever. As was suggested earlier, Taffy and Ivy had started up a trucking business that is if one old Bedford tray truck with a dodgy motor could be considered a business proposition.
On the day of their drive into Hughenden Taffy decided his Alsatian dog Marshy would come along for the ride. The truck’s tray was flat without drop sides therefore the dog had to find its own balance on the rough timber planking. While pelting along the corrugated road at the breakneck speed of thirty miles an hour, Kevin showed concern for the dog, turning in his seat he warned Marshy not to fall off.
Guess what?
The dog did and broke a leg in the fall.
Immediately Taffy went into a rage blaming Kevin for the accident saying if he hadn’t spoken the dog wouldn’t have attempted to climb into the cabin through the glassless section between the cabin and the tray. Taffy’s rage continued even after they arrived in Hughenden becoming more abusive after taking Marshy to the vet to set the dog’s broken leg in plaster. What mostly irked Taffy was the vet bill eating into his grog money.
During their visit to Hughenden, Ivy and her sister Mary became involved in some serious discussion and unknown to Kevin arrangements were made for Ivy to leave Taffy at the earliest opportunity and live with Mary in Hughenden. Late in the afternoon Taffy returned to the house stinking of drink, once again ranting about the cost of the vet bill before deciding they wouldn’t stay overnight, as he had made some imaginary arrangement with one of his drinking mates at the Torrens Creek hotel. In doing so Mary convinced Taffy to leave the dog with her until its leg mended, otherwise it may have another fall from the back of the truck during the return journey.
The ride home was icy with the only sound coming from the truck’s aging motor and the banging of a lose tray plank over the road’s corrugation. At one time Kevin attempted to apologise for the dog’s accident but Ivy quickly interrupted by asking Taffy what business was so important they had to leave early. Taffy didn’t answer and as soon as he brought the truck to stop he alighted and headed for the hotel.
Taffy didn’t return to the house that night but was heard in the early hours of the morning leaving with the truck, nor had he returned during the following morning. Once Ivy had given Kevin his breakfast she sat him down, saying not to leave the house as she needed to speak with someone and may be gone for some time. As it wasn’t a school day and the weather not for riding Kevin promised and was left on his bed with a couple of Durango Kid comics. He liked the Durango Kid’s black outfit with his large silver belt buckle and the way he wore a black bandanna to hide from identification. Possible it was the cowboy’s masculinity that gave the most interest to the lad.
Ivy had been gone for almost an hour and Kevin had finished both comics while looking for something to entertain when she returned in bluster. Immediately she began to pack their meagre belongs into a large suitcase.
Being somewhat confused by the haste Kevin challenged his mother.
“We are going on a little holiday to stay with your cousins in Hughenden,” Ivy nervously explained.
“Can I take Roany?”
“I’m sorry love but no, go and get your teddy as we haven’t much time.”
“Is Taffy coming with us?”
“John Wilks will drive us into Hughenden and he will be here in a few minutes.”
It appeared Ivy had reached breaking point with Taffy, deciding to cut her losses after the slapping she received some time earlier and permanently depart from a bad relationship, doing so while Taffy remained absent. Ivy had approached a trusted friend who was more than willing to drive her into Hughenden.
Kevin’s confusion is interrupted by the sounding of a car horn.
“Come on love, Mr. Wilks is here and we mustn’t keep him waiting.”
“But what about Roany, I’m to ride her to school tomorrow and I promised to give Arthur a ride on her after school.”
Ivy doesn’t answer.
“Shouldn’t we wait for Taffy?” Kevin lingers, his eyes are through the side window where he can seen Roany grazing but Ivy is firm, she collects his teddy and takes Kevin’s arm, urgently forcing him away from the last he would ever see of his beloved Roany. Minutes later he is in the car.
“Hello lad,” John Wilks greets as Kevin is quickly bundled onto the back seat of the sedan with the bags and teddy bear.
“Have you got everything?” Wilks asks Ivy.
“I think most of it, if not Taffy can have what’s left to sell for beer money.”
“I saw the truck outside the pub on the way over.”
Ivy glances along the street as they turn from town. If anything she appears relieved but it was more than obvious Kevin remained confused, even at such a tender age he could understand the permanency in his mother’s tone. What of his horses and his little country town school that he had become to love.
The lamb roast announces readiness as Kevin forces away a gentle tear of memory.
“I should make the mint sauce.”
“I like mint sauce,” Neil admits.
“Then I think you would like this one, it was Wayne’s mother’s special recipe.” Kevin removes the roast from the oven and places it under cover to cool while he attends to the vegetables.
“What happened to Roany?” Neil asks as Kevin makes the sauce.
“That was the last I ever saw of the horses but it was leaving Roany that hurt the most.”
“Have you ridden since?”
“Not for many years, the last time was on a friend’s farm here in Victoria.”
“And what happened to Taffy Jones?”
“In fifty-nine mum brought me back here to Melbourne and one day while I was at school, Taffy arrived delivering my old saddle to my grand parent’s house. For a brief moment I thought we were returning to Torrens Creek and Roany. Alas no, mum sold the saddle then as I have previously mentioned when we returned to Hughenden in sixty-one, I did see Taffy but gave him short-shift. I think in translation seeing he had disposed of Roany with the excuse she was old, my meaning was bugger off.”
Neil sniffs the air, “I believe it is time to enjoy your famous roast lamb with the special mint sauce.”
“I’ve set the table in the dining room, usually when Wayne in home we eat here with a try on our lap.”
“I don’t mind either.”
“It will be a change to be traditional. What do you do at home?”
“Depends who is about, usually it is mum at one end of the table, the old man at the other with we three silently between.”
“What about conversation?”
“The old man controls conversation and in the most it is telling me how I should get a proper job.”
“It appears your home life is a little fragile,” Kevin suggests.
“Only when the old man is about but these days he is mostly at work. Mum believes he is having an affair with his secretary.”
“Is he?”
“Who knows and by mum’s attitude who cares.”
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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