CHAPTER 12
Anticipating another dry summer in 1979, hinted by abnormal wind direction patterns, and with his commercial investments and ambitions decreasing his interest in farming, Matt has his entire extended Faraway farming property re-surveyed and put up for sale apart from 2000 acres of the original Strathmore Farm on the valley floor and upper terraces extending up to just beyond his manager's house.
The real estate agency engaged by Matt to sell the 37,700 acres predicted considerable interest would be shown in the offering. Courtney was thrilled to hear that, but Matt cautioned, "Only when the hammer falls will anything matter."
The auction was held in December on a Friday, still known as Farmers' Day', the preferred day of the week for rural folk to do their shopping and other business in town.
As the auctioneer dealt with a flurry of early bids, the rising price forced out many bidders until only a neighbouring farmer and one from Hawkes Bay faced off in a bidding war.
Finally the North Island bidder signalled defeat.
The auctioneer called for further bids, but none were forthcoming.
"I'm holding the bid of Mr Ellis for $2.15 million," called the perspiring auctioneer. "Going, going ...
Mrs Ellis clutched her husband excitedly. He remained poker-faced.
"Two point one five," came the shout from a new bidder.
There was a gasp from the crowd.
"Well, that was a close one," called the auctioneer. "I have a new bidder."
It was not really a surprise to Matt. He'd noticed the man in a suit and red tie from the outset, and picked him as a buyer's agent.
Although the fellow hadn't made a bid until now, he'd been watching proceedings very intently
Scully Ellis called "Two point one six" but buckled when the red tie man raised an index finger when the auctioneer called "Two point two."
"Going, going gone to High Country Pastoral Holdings Limited," called the auctioneer.
At that identification of the buyer, the face of defeated bidder Scully Ellis broke into a wide smile. He knew that his own station now lay between two High Country Pastoral properties. It would only be a matter of time before someone representing that company came knocking on the door of his homestead.
"Oh, Matt," gushed Courtney, as the auctioneer's hammer fell. "We're millionaires."
"Steady on,' he replied, holding her tightly and grinning. "There's a mortgage to be repaid."
"What will you do with what's the money you get?"
"Oh, I'll think of something. In the meantime would you like a new car, something really flash?"
Courtney smothered him in kisses. "I'll love looking for something suitable. What will you buy for yourself darling?"
"My old girl will do. I'll know when she can no longer do the job."
Pleased that Matt was loyal at least to his mother and his ageing Land Rover, Courtney thought again of her tragic loss. Farming was such a cruel life Courtney had sobbed two years ago when agreeing to Dick's request to let the vet put Boris down
She'd remembered after her engagement telling her mother how it had pleased her to find that their maturing cattle were sent to better pastures for finishing off. That spared her of the thought of them going into the freezing works, bellowing in terror or at least that was what she imagined happened.
But in contrast with the hard times she adored watching their Angus cross calves prancing about in abandonment. But best of all were the lambs in paddocks beside roadsides. She would sometimes stop to watch them dance like novice ballerinas.
As Courtney waited for Matt to come back from signing papers with the real estate agent and auctioneer, the image that had just come to her triggered an idea for a painting: the managing director of the Farm Mutual Insurance Agency had ask her to come up with ideas about a truly rural scene for hanging in its boardroom.
Courtney visualised the gambolling lambs being watched by some beef cattle, pigs, horses and a rooster but knew that the final concept would show only gambolling lambs with perhaps with some beef cattle in the mid background and steep hills behind them.
She thought the managing director of the insurance agency would be bound to commission a painting like that.
Although city bred and for much of her life until marrying, Courtney had come to love the dramatic seasonal changes of country life, finding them emotionally fulfilling. The separation of seasons seemed much more defined, more dramatic than in the city where the seasons seemed to merge almost unnoticed until one suddenly grabbed for a coat in autumn or went for the first swim of the season in late spring.
Enjoying such drifting thoughts Courtney began to reflect that a dramatic change had occurred in her own life. She no longer thought as a city girl or even as a reluctant transplant. Somewhere along the journey she'd transformed into a countrywoman.
That evening Matt took his mother and Patricia to an Italian restaurant in Blenheim. During pre-dinner drinks they laughed about Patricia's reaction some three months earlier when Matt had announced he was going to sell most of the farm.
"You'll selling your birthright," Patricia had stormed.
She calmed down when Matt patiently explained that the prime area of land. the heartland of the original huge holding established by his great-grandfather and named Faraway farm, would be retained.
Next morning a phone call brought news for Courtney.
She went out on to the terrace where Patricia, wrapped in her tattered old dressing gown, a Christmas present from Matt more than ten years earlier, was battling with a crossword puzzle in her 'Woman's Weekly' magazine.
Matt walked up to them and saw the worried look on Courtney's face. "Bad news?"
"No it was Dick at the farm. He no longer needs a horse now that you've sold the steep hill country. He was going to sell it, but wondered should he keep it on for me to ride."
"Oh you must, you loved riding," cried Patricia. "Don't you agree, Matt? He nodded, and leant over to see how far his mother had got with the crossword.
The lines in Courtney's forehead retreated.
"I'll phone him back now, Iceberg is a lovely mount."
Matt was thinking of his chestnut Fearless. He'd spoken to Scully Ellis at the auction and Scully had agreed to take Fearless as a gift for his young grandson. So for the first time in his life, actually since he was five and a half, Matt was without a mount. Well these things happen.
Three days later Courtney arrived home very flushed.
"Drinks," she yelled. Matt already had the wine uncorked as he'd assumed the agency would accept Courtney's proposal to paint a large mural on a wall of its boardroom.
