A Fantasy Dynasty
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Doomed Dynasty Pt. 06 free porn video
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.
Courtney said proudly, ‘The board of the Farm Mutual Insurance Agency in Wellington accepted my proposal and agreed to pay my price.’
‘How much?’ Matt asked.
‘I asked for $26,000 and they accepted. It will be a mural, across the entire wall and will take me fifteen days I guess. I’ll stay with my parents. I can’t believe they accepted my cheeky demand.’
‘These things happen,’ Matt said.
‘And you’re worth it,’ Patricia added.
‘Yeah, said Matt. ‘You really ought to put your prices up for your paintings.’
* * *
The time arrived for Reece to leave home to be his own man to attend university, allowed him to distance himself from his domineering father with whom relationships almost always seemed to either hot or cold, rarely pleasantly tepid.
Matt was off-hand when his son was preparing to leave and thereafter showed no sign of missing him. He’d informed Reece that he had arranged a monthly cheque to be deposited into Reece’s bank account and for the boy to phone him if he needed any assistance. They shook hands like two strangers and when Re
ece looked back to make his final wave only Patricia stood on the driveway, wiping her eyes.
It was, however, a momentous occasion for Courtney and she chatted excitedly to her son as she drove him to the bus depot.
For most of the past two years she’d looked forward to this time but was apprehensive that Matt would intervene at the last moment and say something stupid like, ‘No, we’re not going to waste money supporting him at university, it’s time he got a proper job.’
However, that fear dissipated when Matt, hearing Reece talking to her about his aspirations, joined the conversation about study options and whether he should attend university in Christchurch or Wellington.
It was probable that Matt knew the answer before asking the question, ‘Why don’t you take an agriculture course at Lincoln College?’
‘No, dad. I want to go after a business degree.’
‘Whatever it’s your education,’ Matt had grunted.
Courtney and Reece exchanged pleased glances. That was almost acceptance but not quite. One could never be sure about Matt and his use of his veto.
Patricia was aware that Reece would be the first Curtis to attend university. However, she was of the opinion that her grandson was more of a Sterling than a Curtis. The Sterling seniors were both well educated and Courtney had never stopped educating herself.
Mothers tend to worry when their children leave home, and Courtney was no exception.
‘I hope Reece sticks at his studies and just doesn’t think he’s at university to concentrate on upskilling as a playboy,’ she worried.
‘He’ll be fine,’ comforted Patricia. ‘Reece knows where he’d going.’
Unfortunately, her optimism was misplaced.
After enrolling at university for his selected courses, Reece headed for the special interest activities to register for cycling and scuba diving.
At the cycling booth when he gave his name he was informed he was already on the university cycling team. Although nobody knew him personally, the selectors knew his success in cycle racing. He was chuffed.
A month of two later Reece won an inter-university road race and after joining a local club won the club championship and the first of many regional titles and ultimately a couple of university national titles that he defended successfully for two more years.
Two days after Reece’s departure, Courtney decided to begin to look for a replacement car to cheer her. As the sale of the farmland finally completed, there was considerable surplus money available for spending and reinvestment.
Courtney’s choice was finally between a second-hand Mercedes convertible and a V8 Rover sedan. She thought that she’d get a second opinion and asked Patricia, knowing Matt would automatically opt for the Rover whereas she wanted a considered opinion.
‘Take the Mercedes,’ urged Patricia, after looking at both vehicles and going for a short drive in each.
‘The three of us could never comfortably travel in the Mercedes, although we always have Matt’s Land Rover or your car.’
‘Courtney!’ said Patricia, sternly. ‘Set yourself free!’
A few hours later the red Mercedes sat in Courtney’s place in their garage.
Matt’s spending spree was far larger.
First, he gained approval to build an extension to the town almost disused wharf to tie up a small launch he’d purchased to go fishing. He didn’t tell anyone at home about the boat as he didn’t think the women would be interested in something that had stale fish odour embedded into it. He hired Cyril Thomas, a work shy but once skilled carpenter to refit the boat. Elsie hoped the job would lure her husband away from his favourite resting place, the tavern.
When Sea Urchin had been upgraded and put to use, Matt still didn’t tell Courtney or Patricia. He placed Cyril on a retainer to be on hand to do odd-jobs on other property.
The launch was used to go on quiet solo cruising or fishing trips. Often he would take a couple of mates fishing, with bottles of beer consumed usually out-numbering the fish landed at the wharf. On the occasional night he and Vikki would slip down the river and over the bar when Vikki would then take over the wheel while Matt barbecued late dinner at the stern.
Yet another investment involved persuading Cyril’s wife Elsie to take over the vacant lease of the Miranda hotel’s kitchen and dinning room. Matt undertook to lend her the money to set-up and enter into the contract. Elsie had tired of managing the bakery and had long yearned for the chance to run her own business.
‘I’ll run a good operation for you, ‘ she promised.
‘I know you will,’ replied Matt. ‘Do you think I went after you for that unlovely body of yours.’
Elsie screeched with laughter.
The largest investment involved Vikki.
One morning when they were lying together on the thick carpet in her lounge above the café, Matt asked, ‘What is your attitude to direct business competition?’
‘Pretty neutral I guess. It could even be stimulating if things didn’t get dirty. Why do you ask?’
‘Well, I’ve purchased the vacant land next to this building. I’m going to erect a new structure that will be a little longer than this one. I reckon the best option for tenants would be a take-home food place, a shop offering specialist foodstuffs and cooking equipment and at the far end, another restaurant.’
‘A sort of food centre?’
‘Quite, what do you think?’
‘What kind of restaurant?’
‘Chinese because they are gaining popularity in the big centres.’
‘Excellent idea. Residents and people passing through the town will have a real choice. I like the idea. Thanks for seeking my opinion.’
‘I’m getting busier and busier Vikki. Although I now have downsized the farm I am into other things and all the time am looking at new business opportunities. I reckon I should get into land development.’
‘You should indeed. There’s money to be made in subdividing land for intense redevelopment.’
‘Right and you think like me,’ commented Matt. ‘Vikki would you consider running Southern Star Holdings Ltd? I’ll pay you $450 a month to manage the two properties and look after the paperwork, it will only involve a few hours each week.’
‘I don’t quite know what to say.’
‘Try saying yes.’
‘Yes but we need to sit down and work out what my commitment would be. You are a very kind man to do this Matt.’
‘Don’t kid yourself buxom lady. We’re both in business for the money.’
‘Oh Matt,’ said Vikki, stretching. ‘There are more things to life than money. Kiss me.’
‘How can a gentleman refuse such an offer?’
Vikki saw the dark glistening eyes lower towards her face: she squirmed in anticipation.
* * *
During long weekends and university holidays, Reece usually arrived home with a different female companion, as did his best friend Phil Crown.
In most instances Patricia and Courtney were not at all impressed. Courtney attempted to discuss her concerns with Matt.
‘This girl Liz Reece has brought home with him. Her bed was not slept in at all. She moved straight into his room. She looks very common don’t you think?’
Matt looked as if she was wasting his time. ‘Let the boy be Courtney. He’s enjoying the best years of his life.’
‘That may be so but in this house we have standards.’
‘Come on Courtney. The eighties are almost upon us and now virtually anything goes. He’d probably humping the stuffing out of her at university so why can’t he do the same thing at home? This is also his home isn’t it?’
After exchanging brief glances with Patricia, who looked at her approvingly but had tactfully not taken part in the conversation, Courtney returned to reading her historical novel about a queen with her insatiable lust for young boys.
To her relief, she never saw that ‘very common’ looking young woman again. But others
came and went, none of them coming close to having qualities Courtney would call ‘ladylike’. However one upside was the youngsters livened up the house and at times that resulted in some great impromptu parties.
One afternoon Patricia stood at the sitting room windows looking down on to the beach where they could see Reece and Phil with three females who were fellow university students.
‘My goodness,’ she called to Courtney. ‘Come quick and look at this, the sluts!’
Courtney came running. She saw that Patricia was shaking.
She could see that the three women were topless. Phil Crown seemed to be removing the bikini bottom of one of the girls. The other two were leaning over Reece, their heads touching, and clearly they were licking Reece’s penis.
‘My God, come away Patricia! You have no need to upset yourself by looking at this revolting exhibition. Have they no shame?’
‘I’ve seen canoodling before, though two on to one is a new one for me. Can’t we stay and watch?’
‘Patricia!’
‘Oh, all right you spoil-sport.’
From their first week together at university, Reece and Phil had enthusiastically sought the company of the opposite sex. As both were good-looking and apparently ready to spend good money for a good night out, they had little trouble finding partners.
One afternoon midway through his second year at university and knowing the morning shift at the hospital would have ended half an hour ago, Reece phoned a nurses’ hostel and arranged with the trainee nurse talking the call to be ready with five of her friends to be picked up at 8:00 that night to go to a party.
‘Oooh I could arrange more if you’d like?’
Reece was tempted, but said, ‘No, six of you will be just dandy.’
He was pleased about the brilliance and audacity of his deception. He and Phil arrived at the hostel in Reece’s beaten up 10-year-old Jaguar. Climbing out of the vehicle Reece walked around, running a speculative eye over the girls in their party frocks. ‘You and you. Jump in. The other guys will be along shortly, one of the cars wouldn’t start.’
Of course no other cars would be arriving, simply because no other guys had been told that four rejects would be available for the taking. It was a really mean thing to do, thought Phil, but his pang of conscience was short-lived. On the other hand Reece gloated at his audacity to sort out the best looking prospects.
At the end of the evening the two girls submitted to some heavy petting in appreciation of a wonderful night out. Later, when driving back to their shared flat Reece had said, ‘I reckon Ruby was ready to go all the way. How was yours?’
‘She led me get to her breasts, but kept her legs clamped together.’
Knowing that Reece rarely dated the same girl twice, two nights later Phil went on a formal date with Ruby. Just as Reece had said, she was ready and willing to share herself fully. The two lovers they were inseparable for the next 18 months.
Reece often went out with them, always with a new partner.
One Saturday afternoon when Phil had gone to the hostel to pick up Ruby as arranged, he was informed that she’d resigned from nursing and gone away. He was handed a farewell letter from his sweet Ruby.
Later Ruby wrote again, with no return address, saying that she’d given birth to a daughter but never wanted to see him again, although she would write occasionally. She had called the baby Phyllis is memory of him.
Two years later Ruby softened her attitude and wrote that she wanted Phil to see his daughter once a year near her birthday. Phil returned home disappointed after the first reunion. He told Reece that Ruby had refused to allow him to even kiss her, but readily handed Phyllis across to him. She declined money towards their support but told Phil that if Phyllis wanted to go to university she’d ask Phil to assist with the costs of his daughter’s higher education.
‘This has shattered me,’ Phil told Reece, in despair. ‘But I accept Ruby’s wishes. It’s the terms that her parents have imposed if she is to continue to live with them. They insist that she has nothing to do with me whatsoever.
At the end of his third year of study when notification of his final pass results arrived, confirming that Reece had obtained his bachelor’s degree in business administration, he said hopefully to his family, ‘I hope you guys have got a great present for me. Some of my mates’ parents are allowing them to go on a cruise to the islands involving non-stop gambling, booze and babes.’ Phil would continue on at law school.
Kaidence
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