Eleven Orphan Daughters Ch 03

With his mind full of his feelings for Rose John found it harder to get motivated. He was uncomfortable in her company avoiding her as much as possible. He missed the fun times with Melissa but did not go back to the hotel. He told Lelani, "No massages" and stopped going to the family evenings.

He took to roaming through the local markets early every morning. He spent hours drinking tea, talking to farmers about their crops and their families. They told him that Monica was having trouble with her chicken farm.

The next morning he left the market early and went to her sheds. She made a great fuss calling her few workers together to meet him. "I am glad you came." she cried. "I was going to ask you for help but Kim told me you seemed to have lost interest in our family."

He was stung by that remark but had no chance to respond as she quickly continued." I fear I am going to fail. I am finding it impossible to buy sufficient young chickens to stock my sheds. I have rung all the large-scale chicken farms looking for stock. They have none to spare in fact they all want to buy more."

John laughed, "My god you don't have a problem that's an opportunity." "What opportunity?" she asked. "When you have all those farms wanting chickens and there are none available you have an opportunity to start a business supplying day old chicks. Come on I'll help you turn this place into a day old chick breeding facility."

When she hesitated, he said, "If you don't believe me check and see if I'm right. Put your workers on the phones. Have them ring those farms and tell them you are prepared to supply chickens. Tell them that you will contract to breed and grow young chicks to any age they want. " By mid morning, Monica was all smiles. She gave him a hug as her workers reported that most farms would sign contracts to buy chicks.

Monica's chicken farm gave him a new lease of life. They spent long hours together reorganizing the internal areas of her sheds, installing automatic lighting and large commercial incubators. He spent hours on the phone and on the internet talking to a friend in far North Queensland who ran such a facility.

His mate told him that a breeding farm with proper quality controls in place would find markets throughout Asia. John relayed that message to Monica. "You could end up with a bigger enterprise than the feedlot."

The feedlot generated a tremendous number of visitors. Now Monica's facility started to share the limelight. Most farms and houses raised a few chickens. People especially children came to see the hundreds of tiny chicks in Monica's sheds. Buyers for the large chicken farms crowded the street to the farm with their cars.

John spoke to the Queensland Government's roving trade commissioner about cattle imports when he visited Monica's farm. He confirmed that a few provinces in the south were lending their local farmers money to purchase Dairy cattle.

He realized then that the province would opt for a similar dairy program. It was clearly a government or party policy to supply cows to individual farmers. He checked around. Local officials who supported Rose's feedlot told him that the decision was a policy matter beyond their control.

Mr.Treet called to invite him to dinner. "I know you think we are making a mistake selling cows to individual farmers but our advisors feel this will help them to become more self sufficient. Your system will always have them working at the feedlot for someone else."

They drank a couple of bottles of good red wine and moved to the lounge. They ordered more wine and sat talking. The conversation became less formal and more relaxed. "Stop calling me Mr. Treet. I call you John, its time you called me Duong." The party secretary said as he raised his glass.

"You will always be Mr. Treet to me." John said. "I never had anything to do with politics and had never met a communist before I met you. I do not have much time for your party but you have earnt my respect for the way you use your position to help people in your province. Without your help, Rose and her orphans would still be scratching a living on that old farm."

Mr. Treet laughed. "Thank you, you know my people are worried about you. They wonder what we have done to offend you. They have grown to expect that you will want to change things."

"They worry when you don't come up with new ideas or argue passionately with them over our policies. While they complain when you challenge them, most of my staff are disappointed when you don't. They say you have lost interest. What's gone wrong my friend?"

John did not know how to answer. His embarrassment at the way he had stuffed up his relationship with Rose made it impossible for him to speak about it rationally.

Unbeknown to John Mr. Treet and Ruby had discussed John and his problems. "I think he loves my mother," Ruby said. "He believes that she was embarrassed and distressed because everyone became aware that he was spending his nights with massage girls."

"I know Rose likes him a lot. Maybe she loves him. I am sure the fact that he is a typical male does not faze her. I think she is hurt by his avoidance of her. She has always been a person who does not show public emotion. Because she hasn't become angry and scolded him, he thinks she doesn't care."

They sat silent for a while then Ruby continued." I think it will take time. As long as they continue to bump into each other around the village and remember the good things they did together, it will resolve itself. We need a new project something that will give him a new interest like the chicken farm."

Mr. Treet stood up and walked around the room. "John always complains about the lack of adequate accommodation for visitors." He laughed, "He tells me my party rooms are not visitor friendly. He has told everyone who will listen that we need a small boutique hotel."

"Maybe if we free up that old French colonial building in your village we could interest him in redeveloping it as a guesthouse. Remember French bureaucrats used it as a holiday home. They would travel up here in their carriages when the weather became to hot in the city. So it could be suitable."

Ruby told John of Mr. Treet`s idea. "Not before time" he growled. "International visitors drag up and down that shocking road on long day trips because there is no quality accommodation in the province. Your Parties senior officials and government members would at least stay overnight and see more of your province if there was a good pub." He smiled at her; "it would also steal massage business from that dump where I stayed."

John had often admired the stately old building standing high on a hill overlooking the lake. He was pleasantly surprised at its very high ceilings and spacious rooms when he ventured inside. Although it had been used as a storehouse and was full of junk the major structure was intact. "It has been sadly neglected," he told Ruby "With a coat of paint and a good clean up it has possibilities. Let's go and talk to Mr. Treet."

Mr. Treet told John he could not allocate any provincial funds for the hotel. "The best I can do is provide you with a thirty year lease. You can pay no rent until it makes a profit. To cut your costs you can use my works department staff to restore the building."

John rang Glen in Queensland, "find me a retired Hotel manager or architect. I will give them a free holiday in Hanoi in return for a report on what how why etc and a possible budget. He rang his accountant who told him the Australian share market was booming and he could release another million Australian dollars if needed.

A week went by before John Macdonald rang. "I've heard you are going into the hotel business, is it true? If it is do you need a partner?"

John was stunned, "you would be most welcome." "Not me but I have a potential partner for you. Do you remember the Scott family that ran hotels right throughout the state? Well their daughter Shauna has inherited the business and sold it up. She must be worth millions."

"We were at a function last night and Glen told everyone about your hotel. She said she was bored and looking for a new challenge. She is a blue-eyed blonde, forty-two and single. Mate she is a good sort, my wife says she has not married because she wears the pants and hasn't found anyone who could tame her."

"I told her I would ring you. She will come over and bring a couple of experts. You won't have to pay. She says it will be fun to see what you are doing over there." "Send her over," John said, "a blue eyed blonde would be a nice challenge."

Shauna Scott was a challenge. She jumped out of her Mercedes cursing the roads and Vietnamese drivers. She strode through the old colonial building in her mini skirt issuing orders to her architect. John walked around behind her marveling at the way she sized up the building and ordered changes.

"Knock that wall down and make a bigger foyer, make that room the bar. There will be room for ensuites in those big rooms but we might have to sacrifice one or two. We must exploit that view. Construct a large terracotta patio outside looking over the water. We can turn this into a lovely hotel," she said to John. "Now let's talk about customers."

John arranged for her to meet Mr.Treet telling her that he was the most influential leader in the province. She handled Mr. Treet as she handled everyone else. John learnt more about the future plans for the province at her meeting than he had ever heard before.

Shauna started by questioning him about numbers of foreign visitors. "Your locals won't stay in an expensive hotel but foreigners and government officials will," she winked "especially if their bills are paid by the firm or the government. Your terrible bloody roads will help make the hotel work. No visitor in his right mind would plan trips up and back in a day, when there are good beds and good food available."

Mr. Treet spoke of the planned hydroelectric scheme in the nearby mountain streams. The deal with John's government back home on forestry development and the work underway to double the size of the sawmill. He told her of the renewed interest by foreign dairy and furniture firms in investing in the province.

The six-foot blonde foreign woman traveling backward and forward to Hanoi each day riding in a Mercedes soon became the major topic of discussion locally. Rumors swept through the tiny village that she was Mr. John's fancy woman.

John introduced her to Rose telling her a little of Roses history. Thank god, she spoke fast and loud John thought when she asked, "Is this the woman that's got you by the short and curlies."

"We will to have to compare notes," she said one evening as she prepared for the drive back to Hanoi, "come back with me." They opened a bottle of wine and drank it as the car maneuvered its way through the traffic. "Book a room and charge it to my account," she said as they arrived at the hotel Metropole. I'll meet you for dinner in an hour."

John sat in the bar as she swept into the room. She knew all eyes were on her and played her entrance to the full. She was a walking wet dream. She moved so her long blonde hair swung around her bare shoulders. She had dressed so her full breasts were displayed to perfection in her slinky shiny red satin mini. My god she is hot, John thought as she swayed between the tables to join him.

Neither he nor most of the men in the room were used to seeing so much pearly white skin. Most Vietnamese women he knew wore longer dresses or the traditional elegant but demure "Ao Dai" when they went out at night. Living up in the province John could not remember the last time he had seen a woman in high heels and stockings.

She sat at the table and signaled her advisors to join them. "Let's get business out of the way first so we can enjoy ourselves," she purred, as she raised an eyebrow and looked John up and down.

She threw a bound document on the table. "All the information you need to set up the hotel is there. My advisors estimate that it will be relatively inexpensive to set up especially with the promised help from Mr. Treet."

"We calculate that it can turn a profit quickly." She wiped the smile of John's face when she added, "Frankly the estimated profit is not large enough for me to consider it as an investment. I am looking for bigger fish."

John picked up the papers. "Its no go then," he said as he shook his head negatively. "That's not what I said," she responded. "I said it was not big enough for me. I will look at investing in the South especially Ho Chi Minh City."

Her financial advisor broke in. "We think that given your connections in the province you can turn it into a profitable investment." He looked at Shauna and continued. "Demand fifty-year leases not thirty and ask for tax concessions. You should do better than those you received when you negotiated the feedlot investment."

"Offer to set up an on the job hospitality training scheme and ask for Treet`s help. You will need trained staff but you can cut costs by having the province fund the import of overseas trainers. They will benefit by using your hotel as a hospitality school so they should contribute."

Shauna ordered a bottle of red "There is a lot more in the reports. We will stay a few days if you want to ask questions or talk it over." She said as she dismissed her advisors.

They ate and then danced to the music of a single piano. Shauna was fun. She laughed and joked as they swapped stories about life in Queensland. She kept the red wine flowing until the pianist and one waiter were the only others left in the room.

"They want to go to bed," John said as she ordered another bottle of wine, she looked around, "good idea," she whispered. They helped each other to the lift and stumbled out on her floor. It seemed quite natural to walk arm in arm down to her room. John on many occasions tried to remember how he ended up in her room. His memory was not blank when it came to what happened next. Shauna pushed him back on the bed and stood swaying inches from his face. Slowly ever so slowly, she raised her dress pulling it up over her head and throwing it across the room.

Forever etched on his memory was the sight of her standing their in her high heels wearing only a pearl necklace. "I didn't need undies," she whispered, "Neither do you."

She tore his clothes off and pushed him flat on his back. "Are you fucking that Rose?" she asked. "No," he moaned. "Well fuck me," she cried as her mouth stopped further conversation.