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CHAPTER
44
‘Hotel-motel bookings are chock-a-block,’ said Ken, as he shoved his end of the massive steel barbecue plate into the back of Joey’s ute on Friday arvo.
‘What’s that, mate?’ Joey said.
‘Bookings. They’re up … this town is alive this weekend, and we have the muster to thank for it.’
Joey grabbed a crate of ropes and tent pegs from the pile surrounding the fuel bowser outside Hogey’s workshop and hefted it into the ute, too. At the moment, it was hard to think of the Annual Clarence River Bush Poetry Muster being anything but hard work and a black hole of lost farming hours. For a committee who’d run this thing a dozen times or more, they’d all become singularly useless all of a sudden.
What with Carol asking him for help wrapping prizes and Hogey deciding he’d buggered his back and couldn’t lift anything heavier than a pint of beer, Joey’d been running himself ragged. ‘Great to hear,’ he said to Ken. To shut him up more thananything. Hotel-motel bookings were not on his list of things to worry about today.
‘Yes, sir-ree,’ said Ken. ‘You’d be amazed at the sort of people booking out my garden-view twin rooms.’
Was Ken always this demented? Was this what Thelma had to put up with day in, day out?
‘And the local brewery has come in as a last-minute sponsor,’ said Daisy, who’d sent Amy home to Bangadoon and followed him into town. ‘Will says they’ve donated a keg, and he wants your help to go pick it up.’
He frowned. ‘Surely the brewery delivers beer. To a pub.’
Daisy shrugged and started picking at a nail. ‘Dunno. Take it up with Will.’
Hogey wandered out from his workshop with a cardboard tray of sticky buns in his hand. ‘Frank and Jill sent these over. Who’s hungry?’
Joey helped himself to a pink-sprinkled, icing-laden, fluffy white bread roll which would have had his father rearing back in horror. He sank his teeth into it and made an appreciative noise. ‘Hey, Daise. Do you know if Dad’s planning on coming tomorrow? We’ll need a plan to keep him from getting worn out helping people.’
‘Already sorted,’ his sister said. ‘I asked Mum if she and Dad can be on grandparent duty, as I’ll be selling raffle tickets all day.’
Perfect. He hefted a gas cylinder into the ute tray and wedged it behind a crate to stop it from rolling around. ‘Looks like this muster’s really happening,’ he said. Thank god, because as soon as his time was his own again, he had a road trip planned. He wanted answers. More than answers, he wanted to talk, but the person he wanted to talk to was currently twenty-one hundred kilometres south of Clarence River.
Ken slapped him on the back. ‘You’ve done good, mate. I’m real proud of you.’
‘Let’s not get too carried away,’ said Hogey. ‘I’ve done most of the work.’
Joey grinned. ‘If you can call testing a dozen extension cableswork. Daisy, your banners down Lillypilly Street are a real drawcard; they’ll bring the crowds roaring.’
Hogey snaffled the last sticky bun from the box. ‘Don’t make us too popular, mate. I’m buggered if I want any moreHome and Awaystars driving up the price of a block of land.’
Daisy gave a giggle. ‘Clarence—a celebrity hotspot. That’s too funny, Gav.’
‘Right,’ Ken said after stowing the last crate. ‘What’s next? Want me to come with you over to the pub to unload this stuff?’
‘Yeah, thanks, then we’ll be set. Daisy, can you and Hogey head out to the highway turn-off first thing in the morning and hang out the Muster This Way sign. Take some cable ties.’
‘Roger that, boss,’ said Hogey, giving him a one-fingered salute.
‘Me and Ken’ll do the carparking signs and go check the portaloos have been dropped off. The truck was due in from Lismore this morning.’
‘Huh,’ said Ken. ‘Now you’ve gone and reminded me about my brainy idea.’
‘About portaloos,’ Joey said, trying to sound upbeat about it. He braced himself for another chore.
‘No. About that chunk of metal sitting in your shed.’
‘What about it? If it’s permission for something you’re needing, you’ll have to track Kirsty down. It’s hers more than it is mine. Sort of.’
‘Glad you’re on board with that, son. Here’s the thing: Kirsty’s got some museum west of Brisbane wanting to display it, but they’rerun by volunteers and cash is thin on the ground like it is everywhere. What say we use the community raffle proceeds to pay for a wide-load truck to get the plane up to Wacol?’
