The Hired Help
Hi, how are you doing? My name is Drew and I'd like to share this little tale with you. Hopefully you'll find it interesting. For those of you unfamiliar with rural Australia you might even find it educational. Either way I hope you like it. So here goes.
This tale starts in my hometown in Victoria, Australia. It's a little dot on the map that will go unnamed since it's a small town and people talk, you know? Suffice to say there is only a handful of people that actually live there - about 1,800 give or take at the last count. There are about twice as many sheep and cows around it. It's near Ballarat in gold mining country, but the gold is long gone and it's now just farms and people that make farms tick. It has one main street, lined with old shop fronts with decorative verandas that make great post cards for any tourists passing through. Nice to look at the first time, but once you've seen them a million times all you see is the rust and the peeling paint.
My family runs a transport company, so we are in demand locally. I've lived here my whole life. I'm 21 now and I'm branching out. I've enrolled at the agricultural college in Geelong, about two hour's drive away on those wide, flat roads that criss-cross the landscape. There isn't much to see on the way, just dry grass and gum trees and the occasional kangaroo crossing sign. I'll be glad to be leaving home. I outgrew the town about ten years ago. It's the sort of place where everyone knows everyone's business. You know, where conversation abruptly stops when you walk past and then picks up in whispers when you are 'out of earshot'. The general store is more like the local radio station for gossip, if you get my drift.
There are a couple of families who pretty much control the place, in a very conservative, nothing to see here kind of way. The Mayor - an old bloke that's had the job for as long as I can remember and who has his fingers in most of the local commerce - and John Jeffries, the biggest landowner and employer of most of the young labour. They are both stalwarts of the local Lion's Club - a volunteer organisation for the men of the town to do free work on public projects. My Dad is also a member, and I am expected to be one too now I've 'come of age' as it were.
The Lions are about the only social activity in town for the men folk and they compete with the local Council for activities. The Council maintains the place but also runs free events to keep people happy. That's where Raewyn Jeffries comes in. That's John's wife. She is the events organiser at the Council. The local rodeo, A&P show, harvest festival - you name it, she runs it. Raewyn is one of a kind. A former regional beauty queen that is a dead ringer for the 1940's pin up Rita Hayworth - all cascading auburn hair and voluptuous curves, she married John when she was young - about twenty years younger than him - and gave him three children who are all now grown up and gone. She is a force of nature with a big laugh and an irrepressible drive to get stuff done. The ideal farmer's wife, which she was when she wasn't at Council, taking care of the house at John's farm and looking after the hoards of farm hands that came and went. Apparently she's also quite handy with a shot gun.
With my Dad being one of the key men in Lions we often had social events at our house for the members and their wives. Raewyn would come along with John, loaded with fresh meat for the barbeque and home baking for the kids. All the men in the town, and I mean all of them, wanted to have her - biblically, you understand? That includes my Dad, who tended to make a bit of a dick of himself when she was around. She would just laugh it off. She was always one step ahead of everyone, so it was water off a duck's back. She would make a great politician if she felt so inclined. That might be a good use for her shot gun actually.
Anyway, on to the main part of the story, and it does concern Raewyn, as you've probably guessed. You see last year the only story in town was that Raewyn and John got divorced. I kid you not. Turns out that John had been rolling in the hay with most of the pretty little shearing hands for years on end. Raewyn kind of knew about it and put up with it, up to the point that John fell for one of them and asked to be let go. Can you imagine the nerve of the guy? I suppose he is the money man so he can do what he likes, but really. So Raewyn cut him loose.
That would be the end of it, but John decided it was time to retire, with his new floozie in tow, and sold up. The settlement was huge. Raewyn cashed in big time and decided to move away herself, not wanting to stay behind and put up with the endless tea, sympathy and back stabbing that would follow. So she bought a place in Geelong, of all places, near the beach so she could enjoy her new life in luxury.
My Dad was quite upset by the whole affair, partly because it soured the atmosphere at the Lion's Club, but mostly because it meant he wouldn't be able to ogle Raewyn at festivals and parties anymore. The old goat wasn't about to give in quite so easily though and he came up with a cunning plan to keep in touch with her, which involved yours truly. Since I was also moving to Geelong to study, he offered my services to help her settle in. Yeah, sure Dad. Real big of you.
So I went back early to Geelong after the Christmas break to get settled. My student accommodation is pretty basic, but it's a modern hostel so I can't complain too much. Money is always tight as you'd expect so I did a few jobs back home to fill the bank balance, but I'll need more so I can afford my extravagant lifestyle - you know, takeaways at least once a week. That's why Dad's little covert plan actually sounded attractive. Not because I'd be helping out Raewyn, but because she is now loaded and would pay me pretty well. She has bought a character house within walking distance of the beach. Kind of like a country place transported into the city, with a wide veranda, big windows and high ceilings.
Dad took me around to look at it and we were impressed, but it is a going to be a lot of work. Raewyn, true to character, wants to impose her own personality on the place so that means a complete re-decoration inside. It's a three month project, and she is staying at a beach side hotel while the house is gutted and done up. Money really is no object to her at this point. The main trade work has already been done so she is now onto the painting. That's where I come in. I like it - it's mindless work so you have plenty of time to think about bigger stuff while you zone out with the brush.
I poked around the house a bit by myself while Dad chatted away at 100 miles an hour with the object of his desire. There are three bedrooms, which seems a lot for one person, but then there are her kids who will want to visit and no doubt grand kids further down the track. Raewyn is still in her late forties, but she had the kids young so they are already adults with their own futures looming. I think she was still a teenager when she married John. Things are still a lot like the 1940s back home - she was an eighteen year old beauty queen who married the town's most eligible bachelor so she could enjoy the good life. I haven't seen any Rita Hayworth movies but it sounds like one of her plot lines.
The rest of the house is pure country - big kitchen with an old cast iron stove, even bigger lounge with an open fireplace and spacious bathroom at the back. I can hear their conversation echoing down the two metre wide hallway and they seem to be wrapping things up, so I stop being nosey and head back.
"Here he is," Dad says, stating the obvious. "Thought we'd lost you."
"Just having a look around," I answer matter of factly. "Nice place Raewyn."
"Thanks sweetie," she says, all motherly enthusiasm. "So it hasn't scared you off?"
"Nah, it's fine. I can help you out till term starts, no worries."
Dad is grinning lasciviously. "Good lad. Now remember, no cheek. I've told Raewyn she can give you a kick up the bum if you need it, and I'm always on the end of the phone if she needs me."
I can tell Raewyn finds him excruciating, but she has dealt with a lot worse. "Thanks Phil. I doubt that will be necessary. Grateful for the help. I could have got the pros in, but I enjoy a bit of painting. Quite relaxing actually."
And that was that. I will be starting tomorrow.
I should probably tell you a bit about my interactions with Raewyn up till now. Like I said earlier, she was often a visitor at the house for big events, but she also came around with John if he had some club business to discuss with Dad. Being a red-blooded young man I was always in awe of her physical presence. The beauty queen tag stayed with her for life for good reason. Time was kind to her and she seems to have an ageless quality that comes from hard work and lots of outdoor living. She is always strong and fit. I remember once when I was about twelve I was being chased around the house by friends at a barbeque and I ran straight into her. I came up to her chest height and ended up getting a face full of her boobs! She thought it was hilarious, but I was embarrassed as hell. That was the main thing I remember about her - not just her tits - her sense of humour. She never seemed to have a bad word for anyone and had a knack of making people feel good about themselves. As a growing lad that was important. I liked that she liked me.
