At Bronty, Nick helped Nell down from the back seat of the dual-cab ute and took her tiny hand in his. Kate took in the transformation of the Bronty garden. The auctioneer’s marquee, facing strategically out to sea, took up most of the lawn. Kate felt sick just seeing the rows of white plastic chairs and the rostrum with the PA plugged in ready for the bidding. She reached for her cowgirl hat and jammed it on, feeling like she was going out to the main street for a gun fight. Nick put his arm around her shoulders.
‘Ready?’
She nodded.
Walking over towards the house, Kate spotted Janie and Dave. She ran to them and hugged them both.
‘You okay?’ Janie asked.
All Kate could do was nod. Nick fidgeted with his phone, checking and rechecking that there was enough reception to get Angus on the line when the bidding began. They passed through the garden gate, which was propped open with an old-style tin of flowers. A nice touch, Kate thought bitterly. She glanced at the house, knowing Henry and Annabelle would be lurking somewhere in there, peering out at the prospective bidders. She clutched the sales brochure, taking in the printed glossy details.
The farmhouse and three-thousand-hectare allotment was to be sold first at noon. Then the ten waterfront coastal subdivisions. Finally the back country, conveniently divided up into portions large enough to satisfy the timber companies. Kate sighed. Nerves tangled in her gut. As they all took up seats at the back of the marquee, she felt people staring at her. Nick rechecked the bars on his phone, dialling out to Angus just to double-check the reception.
As Kate lifted Nell up onto her knee, she couldn’t help looking at each and every person taking their places under the marquee. She knew most of them were local people coming to watch yet another historic agricultural property sold up. Most of the serious contenders would be in high-rise offices somewhere far away from the island, dialling up their agents, who were dotted through the crowd.
She looked at her watch. Time was moving towards noon. She imagined a bell tolling. A death knell. Nick slipped his hand into hers. He too could foresee what would happen once the land was sold. At Rutherglen, he’d experienced first hand what managed investment schemes meant for the land. His neighbours had been replaced by a company with only a phone number for a contact point. With the neighbours gone, there was no one to join forces with to fight weeds, re-strain boundary fences, plan for waterway rehabilitation. There was just the sudden arrival of professional game shooters in the middle of lambing, or the buzz of a plane overhead rudely announcing that chemicals would be sprayed today. The fear that a precious sheepdog might take a deadly 1080-poisoned carcass. The sense that no one in the cities or government believed farming mattered anymore.
Kate squeezed Nick’s hand. They had talked late into the night about the injustice of government policies that allowed massive tax breaks to outside investors but not to farmers. They talked about succession planning and how, as each generation slowly moved on, they were confronted with questions too hard for words. And together, Kate and Nick wondered what they had in their powers to do about it. Both of them were desperate to carve out a life for themselves on the land, but the odds were stacked against them.
Kate looked at the familiar faces of the farmers who sat looking to the front, beyond the podium, to the sea. Creased eyes, rolled-up sleeves, Blundstone boots crossed over at the ankles. Using the sale catalogues to fan air to their faces. None of them with the money to buy a property like Bronty. But all of them with a quiet unspoken anger over how the government was treating their industry.
Nell wiggled down from Kate’s lap and began to leap along the tops of the straw bales that flanked the marquee. Kate rose wearily to retrieve her and tell her to settle down.
‘Want to come and sit with me, Nell?’ Janie asked.
Nell shook her head. ‘Where’s Grandpa?’ she asked Kate. ‘We find him?’
‘No. I don’t know. Come on. Sit down.’
As she swung Nell onto her hip, Kate looked across through the trees to the machinery shed where farmers were walking around, reviewing the equipment on hand. The land around the house was a walk-in-walk-out sale, but if the tree companies bought, there’d be a clearing sale and all the agricultural equipment would be up for grabs. Kate felt sorrow prickle in her when she noticed a cluster of men taking particular note of the tractor that had killed Will. She looked out towards the shining sea and tried to find the strength from Will and her mother out there.
When she turned around, there was Henry, already looking like a millionaire in a new, fashionable suit. Beside him stood Annabelle in white pants and a tangerine top, bright yellow beads slung about her neck, all ready for her new life in a Gold Coast penthouse. Henry glanced at his daughter but his eyes slid past her.
That was when Kate felt the old anger stir. She pressed her lips tightly together and let the feeling drift out to sea. She leaned her head on Nick’s shoulder.
A moment later, the auctioneer, looking solid and wide in his navy jacket, barrelled past. He ushered Annabelle and Henry to the front seats, keen to get proceedings under way.
At the sight of the vendors, the crowd began to drift in beneath the shade of the marquee to find seats. As Kate tugged Nell and told her to sit down again, she accidentally caught Henry’s eye. His face was blank and impassive, the emotion spent. For one long moment she looked back at him before lowering her head so he couldn’t see the hurt on her face beneath the brim of her hat.
As the auctioneer switched on the microphone with a clunk, Kate put on her sunglasses with shaking hands.
‘Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Bronty,’ the auctioneer said, ‘and your chance of a lifetime to purchase a slice of Tasmanian paradise.’ Kate felt sick. ‘Just look at the splendour of that view!’
The auctioneer swung his gavel out behind him to where the sea glittered in the sunshine. A smoky summer haze lay over the crown of Schouten Island. It was as if the agents had paid for the day to be so glorious. A perfect Tasmanian summer day, the light so clear and the sea so blue that it dazzled. Kate felt every muscle in her body tense as the auctioneer rattled off Bronty’s statistics. ‘Seven kilometres of coastline, divided into ten seaside blocks. Plus the farm, including twelve kilometres of pristine river frontage with irrigation licence, two thousand, four hundred hectares of improved pasture with six hundred hectares of cropping ground. And a total of three thousand hectares of bushland and less improved pasture land.
‘… and as you can see, a splendid garden and comfortable homestead, recently recarpeted and painted throughout.’ Kate had a flash of memory. Of a sheep on a sofa. Of manure-coated hooves on cream carpet. She felt a rush of guilty amusement, then berated herself. But maybe it had been worth it?
‘The sale will proceed in the following order. First, the farm and homestead will be …’ The auctioneer’s words faded from Kate’s hearing as her whole body began to shake. The reality of the sale was hitting home.
‘Are we clear and ready to get under way?’ the auctioneer asked, looking at each of his spotters and waiting for the final nod from Henry. Kate waited for Henry’s nod but it didn’t come. Instead, Annabelle sat forward and nodded for him.
Everything was swimming around her. All Kate knew was that Nick was beside her, dialling Angus. She heard the auctioneer read out the conditions of sale but she took in none of it. She heard Nick’s voice as he talked to his brother.
‘We’re about to start, buddy,’ he said. Kate sat upright as the auctioneer took the first bid at $350,000. She glanced round to see where the bids were coming from. An agent on a mobile, and another, and another, nodding as they spoke into their phones. She looked at Nick, his tanned arm bent at the elbow, holding the phone to his ear. His other hand was intertwined with Kate’s. She felt him lift her hand up and at the same time nod his head, his big hat dipping with the movement. The spotter rang out ‘Yes!’, pointing at them. Kate felt a buzz run through her. They were bidding for Bronty! Together. She held on to hope.
But in an instant, the bid moved away. Then again she felt Nick lift her hand. Nod his head. ‘Yes!’ from the spotter, pointing at them again.
But when the bids climbed over the million-dollar mark, and the auctioneer sucked in a breath, Kate felt something within her die. It was over their price already. Nick shook his head. The electric touch that had run from his hand into hers had gone. She could hear Angus’s voice over the line, consoling. Saying there were more fish in the sea. Kate looked out across the blue. But there was nowhere else in the world with sea and soil like this, Kate felt like saying to him. Nick hung up the phone and pulled her to him.
‘We’ve missed it, babe,’ he said sadly. Together they longed for a good life on a farm. The sort of life they wouldn’t get if they stayed in the drier regions at Rutherglen, especially now it was completely surrounded by plantations. All of Angus’s bluster and business savvy couldn’t pull them through this one. Kate listened as the bids climbed and she jumped with nerves as the auctioneer’s voice got louder and more hyped.
‘What am I bid? Two million dollars! Two million dollars,’ screamed the auctioneer in a frenzy. Quickly, he banged the hammer for a pause.
‘We’ll stop at this stage, ladies and gents, just before I let this magnificent property go.’ The auctioneer had the crowd on the edge of their seats. ‘I want you to consider what you’re actually bidding for …’
Kate felt like she was dangling from a noose. She could hardly breathe. The tension in the crowd seemed to suck the oxygen from the air. Farmers were shaking their heads, watching another piece of land getting snapped up by big offshore business, the price resting between two absent phone bidders.
A well-dressed couple now opted out of the bidding and were whispering dejectedly to each other. The other farming interests had been left behind with Nick and Angus and Kate, long ago. Kate knew that in a few moments the gavel would fall and Bronty would be gone. Feeling emotion rise up and tears spill, she barely noticed Nell slip from her lap. Kate realised she couldn’t face seeing the place sold. Hand covering her mouth, half-crouched over, she leaned into Nick, crying quietly for Will and for her mother.
‘I tried to get it for us, Kate. I tried,’ he said, rocking her back and forth gently. ‘You know that, don’t you?’
Kate, heartbroken, couldn’t look at him. She knew what would happen next.
Within days, most of the animals would be sold to the slaughterhouse. Within months, the pastures would be ripped and put into rows of trees. Paddocks that weren’t suited to gums would be left by the companies to run rank and grow weeds. The weeds would shed seeds that would be taken by the sea breeze and carried up to the bush-covered hills. And in a few short years, the fences and old bush yards and sheds out the back of the property would tumble down.
‘I can move on from this, can’t I, so long as I’m with you?’ Kate said to Nick, taking in the kindness of his eyes, the strength of expression in his serious straight mouth.
‘Yes. Of course you can,’ he said. And he took her up in his arms and kissed her. There beneath the shelter of their two hats, Kate tasted the sea in his kiss. She felt the solidness of the hills in his embrace and she felt the beauty and strength of his soul in his love. He was her landscape. He was her everything. As they kissed, the world around them faded away. The loud, pushy voice of the auctioneer faded into the background. Kate was drifting away over the sea with her Nick. When they pulled apart, she looked into Nick’s eyes and smiled.
‘I never thought I could be so sad and so happy all at once.’
‘Me too,’ and he pulled her to his chest and hugged her again.
‘Where’s Nell?’ Kate said suddenly, the familiar feeling of a mother’s panic stirring in her.
They glanced up. The auctioneer’s chants were reaching fever pitch.
‘Three point two, three point two million dollars, all done and …’ The auctioneer had his gavel raised, his voice left high in the air, like a sports commentator shouting for gold. The crowd was hushed with suspense. But just as the auctioneer was about to let the hammer fall, there was a loud clunk and his voice fell silent. And Henry was standing at the PA system with a cord in his hand. On his hip he held a little fair-haired girl. Nell. The crowd gasped. All eyes turned to Henry and Nell.
‘Just a slight technical difficulty, ladies and gents,’ the red-faced auctioneer called out, his hypnotic voice losing power off-mic. He set his gavel down on the rostrum. ‘Got a problem, Henry?’ he muttered through gritted teeth, walking over to him.
Kate found herself standing without even thinking about it and watched, amazed, as Henry laid his hand on the auctioneer’s shoulder and spoke quietly to him. Then Henry stood aside, still holding Nell. The auctioneer plugged the PA in again and blew into the microphone.
‘Ah … check, one, two. A-hem. Sorry about that, ladies and gentlemen.’ Trying to seem unruffled, the auctioneer lowered his voice to a serious commanding tone. ‘The vendor needs a little time. Please bear with us.’
An excited murmur rippled through the crowd.
‘Just what do you think you’re doing?’ Annabelle hissed. Henry looked calmly at her.
‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘I won’t be long.’
Kate’s eyes darted to Annabelle to see her reaction. She was trying to keep her façade of pleasant wife intact, shoving her shock and rage down inside her. But her smile was more of a grimace. She nodded curtly.
Henry, still carrying Nell, turned and walked over to Nick and Kate. He stood looking at them.
‘Nick, would you mind looking after Nell for a moment?’ he asked.
‘Sure,’ said Nick, receiving Nell into his open arms, a bemused look on his face.
‘Kate? Could you come with me?’ Henry asked softly.
‘Sure,’ Kate said, feeling all eyes on her. ‘Sure.’ She followed her father along the garden path and into the house.
In the cool dimness of the house, Kate watched as Henry hauled on the rope of the attic ladder. The ladder unfurled. Henry climbed. Kate watched the heels of his RM boots moving up the ladder. Barely believing what was happening, she climbed after him, puzzled, nervous and devastated all at once that their family had come to this day. And still, here she was on a cliff edge, not knowing what was going on.
In the attic, the air was summery-warm and the tin creaked noisily as if having its say about the invasion of people on the lawn.
Henry moved to the far side of the large desk and perched on it, looking out the window to sea. Kate followed his lead and sat beside him. Side by side. Father and daughter. Eyes squinted against the glory of the view. Below them, the white marquee was blinding in the sunshine. Cars and utes were parked in rows in the paddock, reminding Kate of a B&S. She took off her hat and sat it beside her on the desk.
‘He’s a nice bloke, that Nick,’ Henry said suddenly. His voice so calm and slow it surprised Kate. ‘You set on him?’
Kate smiled and nodded.
‘Yes. He’s the one.’
‘Loves Nell, does he?’
‘Absolutely.’
Henry pursed his lips and nodded. Then he sat in silence looking down at the crowd.
‘There’s a lot of people down there,’ he said eventually.
Kate wondered if her father had gone mad. She nodded, leaving a gap of silence for him to explain himself. They sat for a time, surrounded by all the things from their past: the seed cabinets, Laney’s diaries stacked in pigeonholes, Will’s boxes of things, Kate’s old wooden cot with her baby blanket and old stuffed toys.
‘I want you to understand,’ Henry said slowly. ‘I really felt I had to sell this place. I just couldn’t face it anymore. Not after all that’s happened.’ Kate nodded.
‘I thought by marrying Annabelle I could forget the past. Change my life. But … then Will. Well, it went from bad to worse, didn’t it? Things haven’t worked out. And Annabelle is, well, she’s Annabelle. But that’s another story. One that’s mine to deal with.’ He shook his head. ‘It’s never been the same, since your mother. I’m sorry. And Will was the last straw.’
Kate looked at her father’s profile, his head bowed, his hands clasped as if in prayer. He lifted one hand slowly to his face and covered his eyes in shame. She knew he was crying.
‘If you could know the blackness that’s come since she went. Since they both went.’
Her father’s hands were shaking now, his forearm covering his eyes as he sobbed. He sucked in a breath that was like the wheeze of a dying man and then he composed himself. Reached for a handkerchief in his pocket, smeared it across his eyes.
‘I know I haven’t been the best dad,’ he said in a broken voice.
‘And I haven’t been the best daughter either.’ Kate reached for his hand. The weight of it, its bony strength, felt so alien to her. ‘I’m sorry too, Dad. Really.’
‘I know you are.’ He squeezed her hand back and nudged her with his shoulder. Then he pulled her to him and put his arm around her. They looked out to the sparkling sea in silence. Soaking up the warmth of the attic and feeling the presence of the women who had worked and gossiped up there, sorting seeds, in the generations before them. They felt the nearness of Will, imagining him setting the desk in this very spot, in the hope of his sister returning. Kate felt the years peeling away to before Laney’s death, when the future looked bright and her father was a man not lost to grief. When his love for her was as sure and firm as the Bronty ground.
‘We’ve been through a lot,’ he said. ‘But not together. It’s time to change that. I’ve decided I’ve made enough mistakes. I’m here for you, Katie.’
Kate nodded and leant her head on her father’s shoulder. She watched the far-off seabirds surf the warm summer thermals, as if suspended on strings. She wondered about the people below and what they were thinking. Then she realised she didn’t care anymore. She was just happy to be there with her dad. After a time, Henry spoke.
‘I’ve read your plan. It’s very good,’ he said. ‘You and Will could’ve really done something with the place.’
Kate felt her mouth tremble at the mention of Will.
‘And then I saw you bidding with Nick. The two of you really want to be here, don’t you?’
Kate was crying softly now, big tears sliding down her face and landing on her jeans.
‘More than anything. Mostly for Nell. Mostly for her.’
‘Well, will you take it on?’ Henry asked.
Kate frowned, a puzzled expression on her face, wondering what he meant.
‘If I hand Bronty over to you and Nell, what would you think?’
Kate’s mouth fell open, hardly daring to believe.
‘But …’ she stammered, ‘but what about all that?’ She waved her hand towards the window, meaning the auction crowd below.
He shook his head again and laughed.
‘Ignore that. That’s the result of a desperate man, making another mistake.’
‘So?’ Kate asked. ‘What’s changed your mind?’
‘Life,’ he said. ‘Life’s changed. The future’s out there in Nell. She’s my future. She’s our future.’ Kate absorbed his words, questions milling around in her head, but only one word surfacing again and again.
‘So, how about it? Are you up for running Bronty for me?’
‘Yes,’ Kate said emphatically. ‘Yes!’
As Henry and Kate came out of the house, the crowd parted for them. Annabelle rushed forward, a mixture of concern, confusion and anger on her face.
‘Henry?’ she said.
‘Come with me,’ Henry said as he took her by the elbow and led her to the auctioneer, who still stood at the podium surrounded by his team. Nick, with Nell on his hip, came to stand by Kate and gave her a questioning glance.
Kate smiled at him and nodded towards the auctioneer, who switched on his mike.
‘Ladies and gentlemen. It’s been an interesting afternoon. The most interesting afternoon of my career. Please be advised that the property, as of this moment, has been withdrawn from sale.’
Nick’s mouth fell open as a collective gasp rose from the crowd and everyone started talking at once. The agents grabbed for their phones to call their clients. The journalists pushed forward with their notepads. Goosebumps rose on Kate’s skin. She felt Nick’s hand slide into hers. The auctioneer tried to quell the rumble that surged through the crowd. Annabelle stood beside Henry, mouth flapping open and shut, her cheeks flushed. Nell hugged Kate’s leg and looked up at her, confused by all the commotion. Kate lifted her up and kissed her over and over, telling her everything was all right, better than all right. Kate, Nell and Nick moved over to stand beside Henry. The auctioneer banged his gavel repeatedly like a courtroom judge commanding order. He shouted into the mike.
‘Under the terms the vendor has reserved the right to withdraw the property from sale at any time. Apologies to our losing bidders. Thank you.’ And the auctioneer stepped from the rostrum. Henry looked at him apologetically.
‘I’ll be billing you for the advertising, Henry. You don’t get out of it that easily.’ But then his face opened up into a smile and he tweaked Nell’s cheek.
‘Bugger the tree companies, I say,’ he said conspiratorially. ‘Give this little girl a go at farming. Somebody’s got to.’