Doomed Dynasty Pt. 04

He replied to the negative, preferring to 'wait and see' response as his American friend Lee Lewis had advised. Later the report received from Lee's San Francisco office indicated grape vines plantings would be suitable on the terraces and should be planted as a small-scale trial on the 17-acre block on higher ground providing water for irrigation was assured.

The recommendation in the report that appealed most to Matt was to seek a partner who was involved and experienced in vineyard development and management. He wondered if he would need to look for such a partner or would such a person turn up on his doorstep. But he was in no hurry to act, because the infrastructure needed for a robust wine industry had not yet occurred. It was necessary for those not owning the land who needed to act quickly, not those who already held the land.

However, the thought of having such a large amount of his own and mortgage money tied up in such a large area of land when his heart really now was no longer into farming continued to nag him.

* * *

In early December Courtney handed Reece's school report to Patricia. He was in his sixth year at school and going very well academically.

Both women were aware that he was showing none of the aggressiveness that seemed inbred in other Curtis males. Instead he tended to be sensitive with an inquiring mind and a keen intellect that was not at all focused on farming or hard living.

Matt had been gutted when told that Reece had chosen to play softball instead of rugby. Although admitting to being mildly interested in cricket Reece had told his father that he was hoping to take up cycling racing when he was old enough to join a club.

Talking about Reece's development, both women agreed that those qualities they saw in the boy were much more appropriate for the times. Mechanisation was taking over the hard physical labour on the land. Many farms no longer had horses and the traditional cattle drives had all but disappeared.

This turn in conversation delighted Patricia. She was able to describe to her daughter-in-law the still rather primitive conditions she had found when arriving at Faraway Farm as Collier's bride in 1925. Change only began to quicken significantly after the end of the Second World War.

"Looking back I can see that a revolution has taken place. It has happened so quietly and systematically that it had scarcely been noticed. It's quite obvious that memories of true pioneering days now rest with a diminishing number of elderly survivors of those times, and even they are disappearing quietly."

As they sat there on the lawn drinking tea, a shiny new topdressing aircraft flew low over them, waggling its wings.

"Agricultural aviation will bring even greater change," said Courtney brightly, preferring to think of the future. "That'll be Matt up there with Ivan Wilks. He said this morning he was going to visit Ivan to see his new plane specially built to maximise efficiency in aerial topdressing."

"Goodness gracious, that sounds expensive and very scientific. I wonder what will they come up with next?"

Courtney pondered on that one for a moment, then said: "I wouldn't be surprised to learn that men in white coats and horn-rimmed glasses are working right now to artificially produce meat, dairy products and wool from huge laboratories, eliminating the need for animal farming altogether."

"Oh, my dear. You can't be serious. That idea sounds preposterous."

"Well then, did you think when you came here in 1925 that one day farm fertiliser would be spread over farms by aircraft, making hand spreading or spreading by horse or tractor obsolete?"

It was Patricia's turn to be thoughtful. Then she said, "I see what you mean. How is it that you seem to know so much about things for somebody so young?"

Smiling, Courtney replied: "You know the saying... travel broadens the mind."

* * *

Two years after enlarging the farm, Matt heard a rumour that the town's landmark hotel The Settlers' Retreat would soon be up to sale. The pub, long frequented by Matt, had virtually remained unchanged since his days as an illegal under-age drinker. Making quiet enquiries he found the mortgagor, the Mercantile Bank, was pressing for a sale. He went to see the bank manager, knowing him slightly as one of his late father's Thursday night poker foursome. It was a satisfactory meeting, with Matt suggesting that the mortgage be transferred to him with the building housing the Riverside Café as security, if the banker could convince the hotel owner to agree, plus a cash payment.

The offer presented on Matt's behalf was one of those offers that the sole owner and licensee Rex Mills simply could not refuse. He was well behind with his mortgage repayments and strapped for cash.

A new company was formed as part of the deal, with Matt owning eighty-five per cent of the shares. Rex's fifteen per cent holding equated to the value of his investment but willingly signed a contemporaneous agreement to sell that holding to Matt in two year's time, or sooner, at valuation. Matt was sure he would have sufficient income by then to purchase Rex's shares for cash.

In an astute move, Matt put Rex's wife Mary on a salary to ensure she recruited and supervised staff with one eye fixed on the bottom line. He was aware although Rex was an experienced licensee and host, it was Mary who actually had been running the business.

Matt had invited a few of his mates, 'the boys' as he called them, to the pub for a couple of drinks, not breathing a word his of purchase.

But the word got out, with a crowd of freeloaders gathering throughout the afternoon. A disgruntled barman whom Matt had fired, having often seen him pocketing banknotes from the till, maliciously spread the word that Matt Curtis had bought the pub and was shouting free drinks.

Matt phoned Courtney and his mother to invite them to the party. Both declined politely upon hearing that the venue was the hotel.

"Did Matt tell you the reason for the celebration?" inquired Courtney.

"No and does he ever?"

Matt had grinned at his mother's comment about 'that smelly hotel". He intended to begin an immediate low-cost facelift and then start thinking about something more ambitious in the future.

News that Matt had purchased the pub didn't filter through to this wife or mother for quite some time. Neither was interested in street gossip and their female friends who circulated community news of interests, also known as gossip, were not interested in knowing about the ownership of a hotel.

One night Courtney brought a cup of coffee to Matt in his office. "What are you working on?"

"In two years, even earlier if I exercise my option, I will own The Settlers' Retreat outright. I'm working on ideas to replace it with a new hotel because it's a great site."

Courtney caught herself. She had been about to express her opinion about that grotty old hotel. Matt's comment that he intended building a new hotel exited her.

"May I see your sketches?"

Only too happy to talk with someone who might be able to stimulate his thinking, Matt jumped up and got a chair for her.

It was one of the few times that Matt and Courtney had entered an extensive business discussion. Stimulated by Matt's passion for the concept that he was attempting to develop, through this casual late-evening enquiry Courtney had stepped into what they both had rigidly and mistakenly regarded as 'a man's world'.

A month later when Courtney came in from her walk along the beach, Patricia said that she'd just received a phone call from Ida Watson who wondered if Courtney could help her out with some design ideas for the upgrading of her kitchen.

"You've had three requests like this in only two weeks. You should be setting yourself up professionally."

That gave Courtney an idea that she developed in her mind over the next couple of hours while finishing off a painting. Initially Courtney thought Patricia's idea was a ridiculous suggestion, but within minutes was regarding it as a challenge.

That afternoon Courtney went into town and was standing outside the only vacant shop in the main street when Matt walked up to her.

"Thinking of going into business?" he joked.

"Actually yes."

Matt took a full ten seconds to properly digest that piece of information. He tried unsuccessfully to imagine Courtney in an apron behind a counter.

"Can't picture you behind a counter," he said.

His wife ignored the comment, but asked him, "How much do you think it would cost me to rent these premises?"

"The previous tenant dropped dead right at the front door a fortnight ago, that's why there isn't a 'For Casual Rent or Lease' sign up at the moment. To walk in and require no work to be done at the expense of the landlord would cost you $125 a week, but if you slept with him you might get a discount."

"Wash out your mouth Matt Curtis!"

"Hey hold on there. I own the shop, in fact I own the whole building."

"You have never told me you own this building."

"Well if you must know I inherited it as part of dad's estate. There are a lot of things I do as a farmer and commercially Courtney that I don't tell you because until just of late you haven't shown a hell of a lot of interest."

"Sorry my darling. Well, let me see inside and work out the best deal for me."

"What kind of shop are you going to open, art supplies?"

"You're pretty close with that one," was the surprised reply.

On the recommendation of her loving landlord, she took up a 3x3 lease, signing an agreement to leave the premises for three years with the right of renewed occupancy for a further three years at a rental based on valuation.

Courtney negotiated a 10% reduction in monthly rental payments without having to promise to sleep with him. "Do your negotiate leases with other tenants with a sleeping clause written into the agreements?" she asked wickedly.

But Matt easily fended off that low shot replying, "None of them would have me, and anyway most of them are fellows. Yuk!"

They went off for late afternoon tea, Courtney insisting it was her 'shout'.

Two weeks later Max and his men had finished the garage loft conversion and began working in part of the former Charlton farm supplies warehouse doing an expensive refit.

"This will be costing Matt a packet to keep his little lady happy," cracked Misfit Jones.

A big hand grasped his shoulder and Misfit was spun around to face an unsmiling Matt who had just entered the gutted shop.

"My happy little lady will kick you in the nuts if she hears you speaking like that. This is her project, and as Max knows she's the client. Max, did she offer to sleep with you for a discount?" asked Matt.

Max and two other workmen were watching Misfit trying successfully to break free of the vice-like grip.

"Non Matt. No way. Courtney's a lady."

"Bloody right Max. And I'll thank you Misfit to talk about her as a lady businesswoman. Now, go out to the Rover and bring in that crate of beer she's paid me to get for you blokes. "Her words to me were, 'I want those guys working their asses off for me.' Or did she say 'Supplying a daily crate of beer should encourage Max and his boys to finish the job on time'. Either way it means the same thing. "See you guys at 5:00. I'll come back for a free beer and to check that you bastards are not undermining the structure of my building."

"Bring another crate with you," called Misfit, fully recovered from his fright.

As Matt walked out of earshot Misfit said, "Fuck, did you see his eyes! I really thought he was going to land me one. I was an inch of ending up on a cold slab."

"Well back to work guys unless you want to risk Courtney coming in and kicking your family jewels," Max smiled. He knew that with Matt hovering in the background they couldn't allow the project to slip behind schedule.

Four weeks later on a Friday at 5:30 pm, Max and his gang, in ties and leather jackets that Matt had surprised by buying them for the guys, returned to the premises, now a very eye-catching shop called 'The Home & Business Art & Design Centre'.

The builder and his gang tip-toed around the displays, chatting with dignitaries and other guests without any crude language of filthy jokes passing their lips. When Courtney had told them she would be inviting them to the opening, they were staggered. No one had ever invited them to a commercial job completion party... Max, yes, occasionally but never his workmen.

"I know that I can trust you to dress neatly and behave immaculately"

"Immaculately means no cussing or scratching or try to chat up the ladies, ain't that right Courtney?"

"Yes and well said Misfit."

They told her they would act like distinguished guests, as they gave that assurance each man was imaging a lurking giant shadow of Matt just beyond the door.

But Matt had gone off with Art to the ferry terminal to collect shop fittings and stock as Courtney was too impatient to wait until the next day for it to be delivered by a trucking firm.

It was a three-in-one business with a staff of three salespersons, one of whom also managed the operation.

There was a section for art supplies, Courtney's paintings that hung on the walls were available for sale and she was available by appointment as a colour consultant and a home and business interior design consultant.

Two of her paintings sold during the opening party, with options placed on another two, and the manager of Allied Country Bank booked Courtney to come up with a proposal to what he termed "to uplift the appearance of our banking chambers."

Patricia and Courtney stood out, both dressed similarly in 1930s style evening dresses, Patricia in black and Courtney in light blue, and wore identical decorative feather headpieces.

In following Courtney's brief welcoming speech, Matt as landlord said he thought the opening of the new business with its innovative approaches "is an indication that the business district of this town is entering a new and progressive age."

Proudly watching him speak, Courtney wondered why he was not wearing his old dinner suit. The truth was that Matt had every intention of doing that but found the suit appeared to have shrunk. I'm getting a townie's midriff, he'd told himself, patting his hips. "I need a few weeks at Buchanan's gym getting myself back in shape," he said to Sophia, when she handed his trousers back saying they could not be let out any farther.

Everyone had looked long at one of Courtney's paintings that had a mind-shattered price ticket on it of $7600. Three days it sold to an investment banker from Christchurch who had been on holiday in Blenheim. News of the big sale spread through Miranda.

Courtney arrived home, face flushed, with two bottles of French champagne to celebrate. Matt and his mother didn't have the heart to tell her they already knew about the sale as people had been phoning. They managed to look quite incredulous when Courtney attempted to modestly deliver her announcement and Matt make her think after kissing her when he said, "You'll have to bump up all your prices now to meet the market."

"But it is only one big sale."

"And others will follow."

To Be Continued...