Read Online Bella's Run by Margareta Osborn - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Margareta Osborn
Tags: Fiction
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Patty grinned. ‘This’ll help that vacuum go faster.’
‘And I reckon we deserve a reward for working so hard this year.’ Bella placed the bottles on top of the bar.
‘You betcha, girlie!’ Snatching a Bundy rum, Patty ripped off the top. ‘Here’s cheers, big ears!’
It was dusk when Siobhan walked in the laundry door of the guest house. Jimbo down at the stockmen’s quarters had been calling Bella and Patty over the radio for the last hour to no avail. He was wondering if they wanted their tea. Worried, he had rung his boss, and the boss – Siobhan – had responded.
Clad in a tight black miniskirt, topped with a deep V-neck top and tottering on killer heels that made her bunions hurt, Siobhan was on her way to Jack and Sheila McLaverty’s for dinner – a monthly get-together for all the station bosses. She’d left Robert out in the wagon taking a call on his satellite phone, while she checked on the whereabouts of the pain-in-the-arse Victorian floosies.
Thinking of the beautiful and buxom girl she was about to confront, she adjusted her tight skirt, wiggling it a little higher. She then pulled down her V-neck to show more of her meagre cleavage, pushed her arms into her sides to make the most of her push-up bra and tottered through the laundry door . . .
. . . face-planting over the vacuum cleaner she’d left there a few hours before. A vacuum that obviously had not been moved or used.
‘Shit! What was that?’ said Bella as she sat upright in the cane easy chair in the lounge.
‘What was what?’ asked Patty, who was sprawled in her favourite place when drunk – on the floor.
‘That noise!’
‘What noise?’
‘That noise I heard?’
‘What noise?’ repeated Patty.
‘Oh no, it was that noise!’ cried Bella as she tried to jump to her feet, overbalancing and crashing down across Patty instead.
‘The two Victorians were drunk,’ Siobhan told her dinner companions later on that evening. ‘Not just tipsy. Blind drunk. So drunk they were sprawled on top of each other on the floor. Disgusting.’
Indignant and self-righteous, she’d held forth over dinner with her opinions on the two girls and their behaviour until a wearied Sheila McLaverty had forcefully changed the subject. Privately Sheila cheered the two girls, knowing what a bitch Rob Davidson’s wife was. Sheila had her own thoughts on Bella and Patty, seeing first-hand the fun – and, yes, compassion – the two girls had brought to this far-flung outpost. Helping when Max had his accident and then ringing the Andersons in Brisbane every couple of days to see how they were all going; it was more than Siobhan had done. Thanks to Bella the gardens on the station had never looked so good, a cool green refuge for the stockmen after a long and hot day in the saddle. And then there was the previously high rate of sick leave from the stockmen’s camp. It was down to nil lately, thanks to Patty.
Sheila sighed. Having adult children herself, she knew it had been about time for the two girls to break out – young ones these days could only be good for so long – but it was just unfortunate they chose to do so on Siobhan’s time and turf.
‘So I told them they were fired !’ said Siobhan, satisfaction in her voice. ‘Didn’t I, Robert? They leave tomorrow. I will not tolerate such behaviour. It’s a bad influence on the rest of the staff.’
Jack stifled a laugh, and Sheila knew her husband was thinking that half the station hands would have been long gone if Siobhan had her way. Most of their best stockmen had a love affair with the bottle. It was just the way it was in this lonely part of the world.
Sheila made a mental note to go down to the stockmen’s quarters in the morning and bid the girls goodbye. She’d also ring the old stockman from Johanna Downs, Harry Bailey. He was really fond of the girls, which was saying something; not much crept under that crusty bushman’s veneer. He was better with horses
‘And I reckon we deserve a reward for working so hard this year.’ Bella placed the bottles on top of the bar.
‘You betcha, girlie!’ Snatching a Bundy rum, Patty ripped off the top. ‘Here’s cheers, big ears!’
It was dusk when Siobhan walked in the laundry door of the guest house. Jimbo down at the stockmen’s quarters had been calling Bella and Patty over the radio for the last hour to no avail. He was wondering if they wanted their tea. Worried, he had rung his boss, and the boss – Siobhan – had responded.
Clad in a tight black miniskirt, topped with a deep V-neck top and tottering on killer heels that made her bunions hurt, Siobhan was on her way to Jack and Sheila McLaverty’s for dinner – a monthly get-together for all the station bosses. She’d left Robert out in the wagon taking a call on his satellite phone, while she checked on the whereabouts of the pain-in-the-arse Victorian floosies.
Thinking of the beautiful and buxom girl she was about to confront, she adjusted her tight skirt, wiggling it a little higher. She then pulled down her V-neck to show more of her meagre cleavage, pushed her arms into her sides to make the most of her push-up bra and tottered through the laundry door . . .
. . . face-planting over the vacuum cleaner she’d left there a few hours before. A vacuum that obviously had not been moved or used.
‘Shit! What was that?’ said Bella as she sat upright in the cane easy chair in the lounge.
‘What was what?’ asked Patty, who was sprawled in her favourite place when drunk – on the floor.
‘That noise!’
‘What noise?’
‘That noise I heard?’
‘What noise?’ repeated Patty.
‘Oh no, it was that noise!’ cried Bella as she tried to jump to her feet, overbalancing and crashing down across Patty instead.
‘The two Victorians were drunk,’ Siobhan told her dinner companions later on that evening. ‘Not just tipsy. Blind drunk. So drunk they were sprawled on top of each other on the floor. Disgusting.’
Indignant and self-righteous, she’d held forth over dinner with her opinions on the two girls and their behaviour until a wearied Sheila McLaverty had forcefully changed the subject. Privately Sheila cheered the two girls, knowing what a bitch Rob Davidson’s wife was. Sheila had her own thoughts on Bella and Patty, seeing first-hand the fun – and, yes, compassion – the two girls had brought to this far-flung outpost. Helping when Max had his accident and then ringing the Andersons in Brisbane every couple of days to see how they were all going; it was more than Siobhan had done. Thanks to Bella the gardens on the station had never looked so good, a cool green refuge for the stockmen after a long and hot day in the saddle. And then there was the previously high rate of sick leave from the stockmen’s camp. It was down to nil lately, thanks to Patty.
Sheila sighed. Having adult children herself, she knew it had been about time for the two girls to break out – young ones these days could only be good for so long – but it was just unfortunate they chose to do so on Siobhan’s time and turf.
‘So I told them they were fired !’ said Siobhan, satisfaction in her voice. ‘Didn’t I, Robert? They leave tomorrow. I will not tolerate such behaviour. It’s a bad influence on the rest of the staff.’
Jack stifled a laugh, and Sheila knew her husband was thinking that half the station hands would have been long gone if Siobhan had her way. Most of their best stockmen had a love affair with the bottle. It was just the way it was in this lonely part of the world.
Sheila made a mental note to go down to the stockmen’s quarters in the morning and bid the girls goodbye. She’d also ring the old stockman from Johanna Downs, Harry Bailey. He was really fond of the girls, which was saying something; not much crept under that crusty bushman’s veneer. He was better with horses
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