Chapter 1
Liz Hendricks visited her old hometown of Holstein in cattle country five years after she'd hurled herself into disgrace after arriving at the entrance of the church for what the district's newspaper had called in a social item earlier in the week, 'Wedding of the Year.'
The groom's outraged mother threatened to sue the newspaper for $10,000 plus legal costs for not billing it as 'Wedding of the Decade'.
Liz garaged her Jaguar saloon by the rail station and walked along Main Street, carrying her battered suitcase she'd recently purchased for $2.75 from an junk shop.
Holstein looked little changed from what she remembered, although grown in size but still looking dowdy and sleepy.
The desk clerk at Ma Robinson's rooming house, Mae Stone, who'd attended high school with Liz said, "Hey, don't I recognise you?"
"You're dreaming," Liz said.
Thick Mae as she was known at school apologised, and continued with booking Liz in for three nights.
"I have to ask you what your occupation is, ma'am."
"Business Broker."
"What the devil is that?"
"I lead the negotiations between the seller of a business as well as running the campaign to attract the prospective buyers."
"That must require highly developed skills to produced winning deals."
"It has its ups and downs."
"Oh, you specialise in negotiating the sale of brothels?"
Liz smiled and winked at Mae, appreciating the genuine humour from a thickhead. But then thought Mae may have been serious.
Next day after trolling for information unsuccessfully, Liz sat with a take-out coffee on a public seat in Slaughter Street, thoughtfully named when the town's new abattoir was being built three decades earlier two miles away and downwind of the town.
The non-descript elderly woman in black peered at Liz and said, "Ah, the unruly Hendricks girl."
"You're mistaken."
"I never forget the facial features and corresponding name of any pupil I taught during my 44 years of dedicated service, Elizabeth."
"It's Liz these days and I'm visiting town not wishing to be recognised."
"And that I can understand, dear. Some of the hugely disappointed crowd assembled for the wedding, mostly females of course, would probably have lynched you had they caught you that day. But sensibly, you'd fled town."
Liz said to Miss Harper, "I'm sorry I denied you of a tear-jerking wedding."
"You're mistaken dear, it was the only really exciting wedding or funeral I've ever attended. Although I didn't end up seeing one of my favourite ex-pupils tying the knot, I witnessed the biggest mayhem that she'd ever caused at school, at town functions and at Sunday church."
"Further, because many of the female guests were too distressed to eat or drink, I was permitted to take home a ton of food and six partly full bottles of white wine. I'll keep your arrival here undisclosed."
"Thanks, Miss Harper. Um, do you know what's happened to Will MacFie?"
"He's still at the family farm. The family has moved to the city and Will runs the farm with hired help, having converting it from a large dairy unit to a fattening unit to prepare beef cattle for slaughter."
"Ugh, how repulsive."
"The farmers don't see it that way. The cattle arrive, are fattened over nine to 15 months and are then trucked away. End of story for both farmer and the cattle."
"Oh, that means the farmers don't have blood on their hands?"
"Yes, in a manner of speaking, but those animals would have been knowingly been sold for slaughter."
"I think I'm going to vomit."
"Don't be so girly, Liz. Do you eat beef, pork, lamb, chicken, rabbits pheasants and whatever?"
"Yes."
"And when eating the flesh do you think that the poor darlings will have been slaughtered for your and other people's plate?"
"It pays not to think about that connection."
"Exactly. Well, I'm off to exchange these books at the library."
"I can do that for you, Miss Harper."
"You haven't lost your kindness, Liz. But no thanks, I need to select my six replacement books."
Next morning, Liz went by taxi to MacFie farm, nine miles out from the town.
She stood 10 feet from the fence surrounding the farmhouse and watched the taxi drive off.
The front door opened and a guy, obviously Will MacFie (nicknamed at school Will Pees) stood and called, "Yes?"
Liz had thoughtfully planned for this moment. She took two steps to clear the metal path and slumped to the grass, faking a faint.
She was totally conscious with her eyes closed when Will lifted her up, kissed her face gently and sobbing 'Oh Liz, oh Liz' and then carried her into the house carefully.
He placed her on a sofa and went to the kitchen presumably to fetch a cloth lightly wet with cold water to dab her face.
She smirked that her plan for reconciliation was proceeding flawlessly.
Liz yelled, "What the fuck!"
The Dipstick had doused her chest and head with a big basin of water.
The ex-groom, dumped at the altar, apologised profusely.
"That's the initial treatment we use on any steer that goes down unexpectedly."
It didn't occur to Liz that was the first stage of Will's light punishment of his former darling who had deeply humiliated him at church that day and in doing so had branded him throughout the district as a hopeless suitor.
Will stood away from her, holding a towel, wondering she why she was poorly dressed and without make-up, and had arrived by taxi instead of her own car and yet was wearing expensive dress rings and a thin gold necklace that probably alone had cost her sufficient money to purchase a truckload of steers for fattening.
"Here, remove your soaking jacket, blouse and bra and dry yourself."
"But you'll see me half-naked," she quavered.
"Being humiliated is the price of drying yourself with a soft, dry towel," he leered. "Anyway, I've probably seen the boobs of more women than you've had perfectly cooked and presented hot dinners."