The Bush Publican

"Mrs Wellings had hired me as a guide to take her around to take a series of photos of the area. We were up on a ridge top taking pictures of the dawn light when she slipped and fell. When I reached her she was unconscious and had a broken leg. I splinted her leg and got her out of there and back down here for the Flying Doctor to pick up. That was pretty much it."

"We have been told that she fell some fifty metres."

"That would be Bert, you can't believe everything he tells you, he'd even tell you that he's good looking. It was a fall and a simple straight forward rescue, end of story."

"How well did you know Mrs Wellings?" She was fishing for me to say that there was more to this than just a guide and client relationship.

"How well can you get to know someone in two days?"

"So there was nothing more to it than that?"

"No, even if there was, do you think that I would tell the world. She's a married woman for crying out loud, what kind of sleaze do you take me for? If you aren't going to change the subject this interview is over." It was over. She did a throw to camera that I didn't stick around for and the whole shooting match took off back to the smoke.

The other channels were a little more civilized but got little more from me.

I did get a couple of interesting phone calls just as I was sitting down for a quiet drink late in the afternoon. Deb was bustling about getting dinner for me and the last of the TV crews who had decided that if they stuck around they might get a better story. They got a feed and had several drinks before heading back to town.

I answered the phone to be confronted by a blast from the past. "Hi David, it's Stacey." Christ, the ex. "How are you?"

"I'm fine, couldn't be better in fact."

"That's good."

"Why are you ringing me?"

"I just called to see how you were, and to say that I'm sorry for walking out on you like I did."

"And?"

"Well, I have been thinking about you lately, and was wondering . . . "

"The answer is no."

"Don't you want to discuss this a little, to think about it?"

"I've thought about it, believe me I've thought about it. Every time that sleazebag comes in here to take my order I'm reminded of what you did. I do not want to discuss this with you, I do not require any thinking time. The answer is no."

"Oh." The line went dead. The hide of the woman.

The next call was from Peter Wellings. "Mr Roberts, Peter Wellings, I'm calling to thank you for rescuing my wife. I understand that there was some little risk involved and I thought that I would compensate you for your efforts."

"What did you have in mind in regards to compensation?"

"How about a thousand dollars?"

"No."

"So, you want more, is that it?"

"No, I don't want any of your money. I did nothing more or less than any other person would do to help someone that's in a spot of bother."

"Then there is nothing in what the media is suggesting then?"

"That's the real reason that you rang isn't it? You want to see if I was shagging your wife so that you can somehow worm your way back into her life. She told me what you had done, and mate, you deserve everything that's coming to you." This time it was me that ended the conversation.

I tossed and turned all night and woke still tired the next morning. Breakfast tasted as bad as I felt, I had burnt the toast and somehow destroyed the coffee, how anyone can do that with instant I don't know, but it tasted like shit, not that I know what shit tastes like.

I was looking forward to starting time at the bar when the phone rang. "Hi Dave here."

"Hi Darling."

"Who is this? Hi Di, how are you feeling?" I added quickly before she got the wrong idea.

"I'm fine, better than fine actually, I'm sitting at home with my computer looking over our photos. The good news is that I've told Peter to piss off and never come back."

"Yeah, he rang here yesterday fishing to see if what the media was hinting at was true. I told him nothing."

"I didn't think you would. I'm working from home and I'll have the layout for the brochure finished in about a week. As soon as that's done and it comes off the press, I'm taking leave and heading for my most favourite place in this world, and my most wonderful man."

"I can't wait. Your 4WD should be back in town tomorrow of the next day, I told Rocky to store it for you, you won't be able to drive it for a while anyway, but if you don't want to pay for the storage I'll tell them to take it around to your place."

"Would you do that?"

"Of course. Rocky will be here tomorrow and it'll take him a day or two to get down there. Depending on when he leaves here, you could get it as early as tomorrow. Now. Tell me, how's that beautiful leg of yours going?"

"It's doing fine, everyone has told me that you did a wonderful job on it. Darling. I wish you were here."

"So do I, almost as much as I wish you were here, I can't stand the city, but for you I'd put up with it for a while."

"But you have your thriving business to run, you can't just up and leave that, can you?"

"I could, but I have this feeling that if I wait long enough, you'll come here."

"What gives you that idea?"

"A little bird told me that you loved me."

"You can't believe everything you hear from someone who's delirious from pain, can you?"

"I suppose not." I gave a loud sniff, "But I love you so much, and I thought that you loved me."

"Stop snivelling. Of course I love you. Take care and don't go looking at any backpackers, will you."

"I promise to be a good boy. 'Bye Darling." My day felt so much better now.

The loading of Dianne's 4WD was a logistic nightmare. There was only just enough room on one of Rocky's trailers to fit it, and we had no way of lifting it on. I got the bright idea of using my car trailer to get it closer in height to the trailer tray, but we were still a little low, then Bert had the idea for me to drive up onto this low bank opposite where the track met the road and then Rocky could back his trailer up to the bank and we put my ramps between my trailer and his and we should be able to get it on. We still had to build a small ramp out of rocks to give it just that little lift that we needed, but after a lot of head scratching and hard work, we had it on and securely lashed down with chains.

The three of us adjourned to the bar for a quick cleansing ale before Rocky took off with his load, and Bert went back to whatever he was doing.

That job was out of the way, now I'll have to find something else to keep me occupied.

Time dragged as only time can drag when you're desperately missing someone. We talked every day and she was missing me as much as I missed her, which made us both feel lonelier. She was more mobile and was going in to work, but didn't seem happy about something. It wasn't her husband, he was right out of the picture and really having a hard time of it, he'd lost his job for obvious reasons, his boss's wife begged and pleaded for a reconciliation, claiming that Peter was the instigator of the affair and she thought that he was only using her. This left Peter with no job, a girlfriend that now hated him and a wife that hated him even more. Tough titties, that's what I say.

A month after she had gone back to town we were talking. "What's the matter?" I asked her.

"It's nothing, just missing you more than I realised that I would. I wish that I was there with you right now, feeling your strong arms around me, your lips against mine and the anticipation of your cock inside me, it's making me wet. Darling, can't you get away for a day? Please."

"I'll see what I can do, I'll speak with Deb tonight and see if she's prepared to look after the place for a few days. Even one day with you is better than what we have now."

"You say the nicest things. I hope that you have good news for me tomorrow."

Deb was okay with looking after the place, but not until Monday at the earliest. "I'll do it, but there is no way that I can cope with the weekend mob on my own, so it will have to wait until Monday at the earliest."

"Fair enough. I'll let Dianne know when I speak with her tonight."

Time dragged on. I was in the cool room checking stock the next day when I heard the bell on the bar ringing. It was unusual enough for me to go straight out. As I entered the bar I was attacked, knocked to the ground and kissed to death. "My darling, I couldn't wait a moment longer. I just had to be here with you."

I didn't bother trying to get to my feet, I was too comfortable where I was, here on the floor with my wonderful Dianne on top of me kissing me and dribbling tears of joy onto my face.

We heard the back door open and someone walk in. "Thought I'd find you in this position." It was Deb. "Bert rang me when he saw Dianne's 4WD drive by at a hundred klicks and pull up out font. How are you Dianne? Don't bother getting up."

"I'm fine, I'm better than fine, I'm happier than I have a right to be. I've tossed in my job and I'm moving up here to be with my man."

"What, why?" I asked.

Dianne got off me and I scramble to my feet. "It all came about because of your pictures. The bastards at work had them blown up and on display in the foyer of the office when I went back to work. When I told them that they had no right to use them without your permission, they came the heavy, telling me that, as I'd hired you as a guide, you were officially an employee, and any work produced by an employee becomes the property of the employer, to whit them. I saw red and told them to stick their job up their arse, and to send my entitlements up here, where I'll be now living. How does that grab you for a spectacular exit?"

"Pretty good. How would you like some good news?"

"Good news, what good news?"

"They have no rights to those pictures, and having displayed them without permission, they are liable to pay compensation for breach of copyright."

"How do you work that out?"

"Did you ever pay me any money? Was there ever an employment contract signed? No. Therefore I am not and have never been an employee of the Tourism Department, and because of that, I am the sole owner of the copyright to those pictures."

"So how can we fight them? They'll get all of their lawyers on board and argue the opposite."

"I will draft them a letter, written in my former, but still official capacity, and in the very best legalese full of 'parties of the first part' etcetera, spelling out the legal situation, and demanding an obscene amount of compensation be paid to the injured party, to whit me."

"Wait a minute, what former capacity?"

"I was, and still am, a Lawyer. I haven't practised for some time, but I still know my job. They will be taking on more than they can chew if they try it on with me."

"Is there anything that you can't do?"

"I can't stand here for much longer, looking at you, without holding you and kissing you and doing all sorts of wonderful things to you."

"Go on you two," Deb said, "the reason that I came over, is so that you can catch up on your loving without interruption, so go to bed, and don't come out until you've well and truly finished."

Glossary of Terms.

Big reds. Large reddish coloured kangaroos, common in the desert country.

Bloke. A person of the masculine persuasion.

Buckley's and none. Near as dammit to no chance.

Cark it. To die, snuff it, shuffle off this mortal coil.

Donga. Portable accommodation blocks used on mine and constructions sites.

Freeze your tits off. Bloody cold.

Gob. Mouth, cake hole.

Have a slash. To urinate, piss, splash the boots etc.

Klicks. Kilometres per hour.

Piss:
1. To urinate. E.g. To piss against the fence.
2. Alcoholic beverage of any sort. E.g. On the piss.

Piss off. To leave, fly the coop.

Pissed off. Angry.

Pissing down. Raining really hard.

Randy. Highly sexed.

Root. To have sexual relations with, to fuck.

Sanger. A proper sandwich is made up of ingredients of choice between two slices of bread of choice. NOT in a bun or one of those long skinny things from Subway.

Shag. See root.

Sheila. A person of the feminine persuasion.

Shot. Broken, busted, unserviceable.

Spit. Barbeque rotisserie.

Stubbie:
1. 375ml beer bottle.
2. Brand of work shorts.

Toorak tractor. A semi-serious 4WD vehicle, used more for driving the kids to and from school and the shopping. These vehicles seldom, if ever, venture off the bitumen. The Toorak refers to an affluent suburb in Melbourne.

Tough titties. Gee I'm so sad, not.

Tucker. Food

Uni joint. Universal joint on a vehicle drive shaft, designed to allow the joint to bend in any direction.

Ute (s). Multi-purpose vehicle, the front half being from a normal family sedan, with a tray body stuck on the back. This came about in the 1930's in response to a request from a farmer's wife who wanted a vehicle she could drive to church on Sunday and take the pigs to market on Monday.