FOLLOW THE MORNING STAR (54 page)

‘What’s your mum say about him staying over there?’ asked Mick.

‘Not much. We all just have to keep things running as best we can and hope he comes good, eh, Mick?’

Mick nodded and Dennis turned his wheelchair towards the door. ‘Did you see the little colt? What a beauty he is.’ Dennis adored the horse he’d seen born and fervently hoped Tango wouldn’t sell him in the yearling sales next year.

‘Listen, you blokes,’ said Tango impulsively, ‘seeing you did such a good job holding the fort, I’m taking you up to the Gold Coast for the Cup weekend as my guests. Okay?’

Dennis was quite overcome and Mick looked a bit hesitant but nodded and muttered. ‘Beaut, boss, fantastic.’

Elated with the progress of their syndicate and the enthusiasm of the farmer-trainer Angus Wellburn, Jenni and Saskia decided to go to the Gold Coast for an afternoon of shopping, a movie and a fancy dinner. A firm friendship had developed between the two young women and although Saskia was a few years younger, she was such a strong and mature personality, they both felt as peers.

They bought outfits to wear to the Gold Coast Cup, saw a Ken Russell movie and had coffee at the new Marina Mirage.

‘This is really great,’ sighed Jenni licking the froth from her cappuccino. ‘I haven’t done this sort of thing enough. I was always studying or on shift work or sleeping.’ She didn’t add that she’d spent a lot of the time around older people, being an only child. It suddenly occurred to her many of her boyfriends had been older men and maybe that accounted for her attraction to TR. But as Saskia whispered teasing remarks about the abundance of attractive young men who seemed to be drifting around as they window-shopped and strolled along the beachfront, Jenni began to think it’d be fun to go out with people in her age group, just to have fun without complications.

That evening they decided to go to Oskars On The Beach at Coolangatta for a seafood feast. They sat by a window looking out onto
the floodlit sands and dim distant curl of white crested waves on the night sea.

Saskia studied the menu. ‘Hey listen to this — extra large green prawns, dipped in beer batter with macadamia nuts and shredded coconut with curry mayonnaise — that’s for me.’

Over the meal they chatted away, filling each other in on various episodes in their lives and continuing the fantasy they’d indulged in all afternoon — what they’d do with the fortune Toffee was going to earn them.

‘I want to travel,’ said Jenni. ‘I’ve always wanted to sail down the Yangtze.’

‘I’ll save that up and let my rich husband pay for some exotic honeymoon. No, I’m just joking. If I had a lot of money I’d love to go to the yearling sales and buy a couple of horses I think could be good and train them.’

‘And of course they’ll all be champions.’

They laughed together but then Jenni grew reflective. ‘I’ve been thinking about my future. For a while there I thought I knew what I wanted but now I’m not so sure.’ She looked faintly embarrassed. ‘Relationships are hard, aren’t they? It all seems so easy when you’re younger — Mr Right turns up and you live happily ever after. The problem I’ve found is recognising Mr Right.’

Saskia realised she wanted to talk. ‘TR? You thought he was Mr Right?’

Jenni realised Saskia was aware of how she’d felt. ‘Well, he is awfully dishy,’ Jenni smiled ruefully. ‘And older men can be very sexy. We did have a very close relationship for a lot of
reasons. I’ve never been infatuated with a patient before. Of course, working so closely with him on a one-to-one basis might have a lot to do with it.’

‘Is that what it is — was — an infatuation?’ asked Saskia softly.

‘If I’m honest, I have to admit that I’m still feeling a bit confuse . . .’ She stopped for a moment, then went on. ‘Then there’s Tango. I find I like him a lot, but he is so much like TR I don’t know if I’m just transferring my feelings about TR onto him.’

‘Don’t think about it, or worry about that. Just go with the flow and see what happens. No matter what, Jenni, you’ll have two terrific friends — TR and Tango.’

Jenni brightened considerably. ‘Yes, that’s a great way of looking at it. You’re right. I’m just going to let things follow their own course,’ she decided.

Saskia glanced around the restaurant looking for a waiter, then suddenly stopped and said in a low voice. ‘Look out, Colin’s here. Talk about a bad penny. And he’s got the dreaded Dina with him. You’ve got to meet her.’

Jenni glanced in the direction Saskia was indicating. ‘We could spoil their evening, couldn’t we?’ grinned Jenni.

‘You could,’ agreed Saskia. ‘Just go over and flirt with him. Give him back some of his own medicine. Dina will throw an axe at his head!’

‘Well there’s no way we can get past them on the way out. We’ll have to say hello. Brace yourself.’

The two paused at the table as Colin was pouring wine into Dina’s glass. ‘Hi Colin, Hi Dina,’ smiled Saskia.

Dina looked at the two pretty girls and Colin half rose from his seat. ‘Hi Sas. Hi Jenni. Er, Jenni, you haven’t met my wife. This is Dina. Dina, this is Jenni Brown.’

Dina nodded and gave a brief smile as Saskia explained, ‘Jenni works with us at Harmony Hill.’

Dina’s smile faded and she gave the dainty blonde a penetrating look. ‘Do you look after horses too, dear?’

‘No, I look after people,’ Jenni forced a smile. ‘Wouldn’t you say that was a fair description, Colin?’ She turned wide eyes towards Colin.

‘She’s a health therapist,’ Colin explained quickly.

‘How nice,’ said Dina unenthusiastically. ‘I must learn more about Harmony Hill.’

‘Do come and visit. Dina, Jenni gives great massages, doesn’t she, Colin?’ said Saskia wickedly.

‘Saskia, we’ve got to go. Lovely to meet you, Dina. See you later, Colin.’ Jenni dragged Saskia away.

‘You’re dreadful, Sas,’ admonished Jenni when they were outside. ‘He’s in for the third degree.’

Queenie had one last round of meetings in Sydney with the bank to complete the financial structuring of Tingulla Wool and Leather Enterprises. The sale of the Kurrajong hadn’t covered the full cost of setting up the business, which was spread between the fellmongery
and tannery, the mills, and the design and administrative base in Sydney. Sarah’s investment had been welcome and Queenie hoped it wouldn’t be long before the company returned a profit. Projections were difficult as so much depended on response to the first collection. John’s accountant had given Countess Magda’s business a clean bill of health and she’d been signed up. The first samples of merino leather had gone to tailor Leonard Osborne who was designing the leather jackets, pants and skirts, and liaising with the countess. Judging from their reaction to the soft and elegant leather, Queenie hoped the fellmongery and tannery would be kept busy once other designers discovered and started using merino leather too.

Sarah watched Queenie pack up her clothes and sighed, ‘Oh, Queenie, it’s such a shame you have to leave now. Things are really happening. This is the exciting stage.’

‘I’ll be keeping very close tabs on you all, and all the samples are coming up to me, but I have to solve the Colin problem and check on Tingulla and Cricklewood.’ Queenie looked momentarily depressed. ‘I certainly don’t need this hassle with Colin right now. It’s as if he knew this was a really vulnerable time for me. But I’m not letting him get in the way of Tingulla Fashions.’

‘Dina would love to get her claws into this business,’ warned Sarah. ‘I’m sure she fancies herself as a fashion plate.’

The thought of Dina as a fashion plate amused Queenie and the shadow on her face
lifted. ‘Anyway, thinking down the track, we aren’t just going to concentrate on high fashion, Sarah. Tingulla Fashions is going to produce ordinary things too — blankets, pillows, eiderdowns and mattress covers. And do you know what our biggest range will be?’

Sarah shook her head, trying to keep up with Queenie’s ideas.

‘This big splashy launch collection is to get us noticed and it will continue to be a classy line. But I want us to set a trend for inexpensive wool items like jumpers, underwear, socks, baby and kids’ clothes, as well as skeins of wool. All Australians should live in wool all year round and be able to buy it at a reasonable cost. I mean, this is the home of wool, for goodness sake!’

‘You’d better get a broader fibre wool supplier lined up,’ said Sarah, ‘with your plans you’ll be running through the local district’s wool clip in no time!’

Raylene had been determined not to be nervous just because she was meeting some fancy white lady. She was unsure what a countess was, but gathered it meant someone rich and snobby. Raylene’s ambivalence about life and the limited opportunities offered a girl who’d been living in a squat in a rough inner city neighbourhood all her life had done a radical turnaround. By luck she’d been in the right place and met the right people and discovered she had a talent. Suddenly she saw a track from the streets to security and she chose to follow it.

An hour before the meeting she was still trying to decide what to wear and having a limited wardrobe didn’t help. Auntie Maud was swift with advice. ‘Listen, luv, don’t you try ’n’ be like them. You be you. You got yer own style, stick with it. I can’t explain it, but you got a look, or sumthin’ ‘bout you that makes you stand out. Even with no money you always look real good. Sorta different too.’

‘I guess I ain’t got no choice but to stick with me own look, ‘cause I can’t buy nothin,’ shrugged Raylene. She’d have been surprised to learn that Magda was just as confused and worried about how to present herself as she was.

The meeting took place at Magda’s office in Surry Hills and Raylene forgot her nerves as curiosity took over. She followed the secretary through the workroom, her large dark eyes darting about, taking in as much as they could. The secretary left her in Magda’s small private office and said the countess would be with her soon. The woman looked slightly disdainful, wondering what business Madame could possibly have with this slip of a girl in the rather bizarre outfit. Raylene stared back at her, thinking that the silk suit and chiffon shirt was frumpy and old-fashioned.

Magda swept into the office, talking and gesticulating, wearing a flowing printed silk shift over tight emerald silk pants, with lots of gold jewellery clinking.

Raylene rose with a shy smile and said nothing as Magda prattled on. ‘Have I kept you? I lose track of time when I’m messing around with fabrics. Do you find that? I get so
absorbed in something creative and I forget where I am or what else is going on. Now, did you bring your portfolio? Queenie was so excited about your work.’ She moved behind the desk, her own nervousness making her talk quicker than normal.

‘You mean me designs?’ asked Raylene.

‘Yes, dear.’ Magda stopped, took a deep breath and looked fully at Raylene for the first time. The girl was very dark, tall and skinny, with large hands and feet. She wore a long tunic top over a short skirt which was worn over a long skirt that fell to her ankles. The long bottom layer was sheer, the others of pale sepia cotton hand-painted in earthy colours and depicting animals formed from dots. She had a long matching sheer scarf wound around her wild frizz of hair and wore carved wooden earrings and bangles that one of the boys at Kui House had whittled for her. She wore simple leather sandals over her bare feet and carried a string dilly bag on a long leather strap over her shoulder. Magda was enchanted with the entire outfit but waited before saying anything.

Raylene reached down and picked up a folder containing her designs. Magda flipped through them and saw what had captured Queenie’s attention. The designs were bold, colourful, simple yet stunningly stylish, and very Australian.

‘There’s a sort of a story behind them all,’ said Raylene quietly. ‘They ain’t just pictures.’

‘Yes, there’s a theme, I can see that,’ murmured Magda. ‘I suppose each has a title.’

‘Yeah, I give ’em names.’

Magda smiled at her. ‘And did you make the outfit you’re wearing? Tell me about it.’

‘What’s to tell? It’s just an old sheet and a curtain I dyed in tea and painted.’

Magda clapped her hands together. ‘I love it! Do you know the first dress I ever made was cut from a bedspread.’ The countess knew straightaway that the girl had a gift. It would be fun polishing her up. Her instincts told her the girl was honest, probably a perfectionist and no doubt they’d have some fiery arguments. She was deferential but not subservient and suddenly Magda decided she was going to take this girl under her wing.

Raylene gave her a wide mischievous grin. ‘So whaddya think?’

‘Your designs are terrific . . .’ began Magda.

‘No, whaddya think of me?’ asked Raylene bluntly. ‘I know I got a lot to learn.’

Magda chuckled. ‘I think you’re talented, good-hearted, a nice girl who wants to go places, and if you don’t argue with me too much, I’ll help you get there.’

‘You offerin’ me a job then?’

‘Yes, Ray, I am. Do you want to work with me? What do you think of me?’ Magda shook her head, this was the strangest job interview she’d ever participated in.

‘I reckon you’re orright. We’ll get on. I wanna learn technical stuff, as well as do me designs. Can I have a look at the materials now?’

The countess rose. ‘Follow me.’ She headed back into the workroom where bolts of fabric
were stacked on a table. Together they fingered the fabrics, Raylene asking about different types of luxury materials. They discussed ideas, likes and dislikes, how fabrics fell and moved. Raylene was like a sponge soaking it all up and Magda was excited as she talked. The girl had a feel for textiles and prints. She unravelled a length of shiny blue taffeta printed with swans. ‘Ray, this buy was a bit of a mistake. Don’t quite know what to do with it. What would you make with this?’