A Changing Land(83)

‘What?’

‘We should off-load twenty or thirty thousand acres on the eastern boundary. It’s less productive than other parts of Wangallon.’

Sarah sat back, deflated. She’d almost believed her father would provide her with a solution.

‘As for Anthony, well quite frankly I’d let him go ahead with a development if the costings work out, but not on Boxer’s Plains, Sarah, that’s good grazing country. It would be a real waste to plough it up; besides, Dad always wanted it left as is. It should be left as is.’

Sarah’s eyebrows crinkled together. Was she reading more into this than needed? It seemed as if both her father and Frank Michaels were overly protective of Boxer’s Plains. ‘We’re not farmers.’

‘Maybe we should be,’ Ronald suggested. ‘Read the rural papers, Sarah. There’s money to be made in grain. It’s a burgeoning commodity and the world needs to be fed.’ Ronald patted her arm. ‘If you and Anthony are going to marry, you’re really going to have to let him manage Wangallon. You can’t have two people trying to lead, not when you’re in a relationship. Don’t look at me like that, Sarah. You don’t have to make everything harder than it is, you know. The development sounds like a good idea so go see the bank and find out what they’re willing to lend and choose another block to do it on. But first things first. Jim Macken has to be paid out as per your grandfather’s terms. He’s entitled to his share. I’d suggest selling the black wattle block on the eastern boundary.’

Everyone – Anthony, her father and the solicitor – all of them had the same point of view. Maybe she was being stupid fighting the inevitable. Maybe she should let Jim have his inheritance. Then she could go home to Anthony and Wangallon. ‘And what about Jim? He wants to meet you.’

Ronald looked down at her and for a split second Sarah glimpsed the unmistakeable hardness of Angus Gordon. ‘I have no intention of ever meeting Jim Macken. To me he exists on paper only and it’s best,’ he looked directly at Sue, ‘that he stays there.’





McKenzie pulled tightly on Lauren’s long hair until her throat stretched out, making her breathless. She could feel her cheeks flush an apple red and she shook her hair free, squinting at the pain. McKenzie gave one final, tumultuous shove and slumped across her sweaty body.

‘Get off. You’re heavy.’ She stuck her raggedy nails fiercely into his arse until he rolled obediently to one side, watching with amusement as she untangled her hair from around his wrist. Lauren wiped at the drops of sweat running down her forehead and fluffed her hair, which was plastered flat.

‘You’re a plain-featured girl.’ He pinched at her nipple, his calloused hands rasping her skin.

‘You’re ugly,’ she retaliated.

He lifted his hand and poked at her soft wet belly, ruffled the brown heart of her before swinging his legs over the side of the lumpy mattress.

He pulled coins from the pocket of his trousers hanging on the end of the bed and added one more than the usual. ‘What’s your game then?’ Lauren asked as he sat the small pile between them on the dirty rumpled sheets.

‘Your voice reminds me of a stray cat I once slaughtered for food.’

‘It’s nice to be appreciated.’ She picked up the coins and deposited them on the rickety bedside table. Struggling upwards, Lauren pulled the sheet up to her waist. Her breasts spread to two soft peaks. ‘Have you got the makings?’

McKenzie tossed her his tobacco and papers. Shreds of tobacco tumbled onto the whiteness of her chest. She dabbed at them with her finger, popping the bits into her mouth.

‘There was a girl once.’

‘Where?’

‘From where I came from.’

‘And where’s that?’

‘Somewhere you ain’t been. Anyway this girl, she followed me about like horse dung stuck to a shoe. She came to my hut, wanting it, and I gave it to her.’

Lauren chewed suspiciously on the tobacco. She wasn’t one for conversing about other people’s problems. Served no purpose for her.

‘Her neck went back like yours did just then. There was this thin line of blue that ran down her neck and I took hold of it and didn’t let go.’

Lauren spat the chewed filaments of tobacco onto the floor, her eyes agog. ‘You killed her.’

McKenzie hunched his shoulders. ‘She’d been wanting it. So I gave it to her.’