Free Heritage by Judy Nunn Page B

steering the conversation, with all the subtlety of a sledgehammer, to his favourite subject, as he always did when he had a captive audience.
    â€˜I tell you, mate, the SMA top brass are a pack of lying mongrels and I wouldn’t trust them as far as I could spit.’ He skolled the rest of his beer as if to emphasise the point; and besides, it was Show Night and Cam was in a drinking mood.
    Lucky followed suit, draining his glass. He didn’t really want to drink at this speed, but he knew the rules.
    â€˜My shout,’ he said, and together they wove their way through the crowd back to the liquor booth, Cam talking all the while at the top of his voice.
    â€˜They think they can get us all on the cheap, but they’ll have their work cut out with me, I can promise you …’
    There were SMA employees everywhere, and mostly from the upper echelons of the hierarchy, but Cam couldn’t care less who heard him. In fact, he hoped they did. He’d stated his case to the bosses loud and clear enough, and he’d state it again to anyone who’d listen. ‘They can’t buy me out for thirteen quid an acre and they know it. It’s downright bloody robbery what they’ve done to some around here.’
    Although Lucky rarely mixed with the farming community, he was kept well in touch with the events of the day by Rob Harvey, and he knew exactly what Cam was talking about. Despite the fact that it was still some years before the scheduled completion of the dam at Adaminaby and the flooding of the area, the Authority had been buying up the land since 1949 and there was much contention among the locals. ‘The farmers do have a genuine gripe,’ Rob had said. ‘The SMA’s taking advantage of them and the cockies’ll come out the losers.’
    To ensure discipline and avoid accusations of favouritism, Rob Harvey maintained a certain distance from his workers at Spring Hill, but he stretched the rules where Lucky was concerned, the two regularly meeting up for a beer in Cooma. Both well-educated men with a strong love of the land, Rob and Lucky shared a friendship of like minds, and Rob was thankful to have someone to whom he could speak openly. Loyal as he was to his employers and to the Scheme in general, there were areas which didn’t entirely meet with his approval, the method of land purchase being just one of them. ‘They’re striking each deal individually,’ he’d told Lucky, ‘and taking advantage of the farmers’ lack of negotiation skills. It’s all a bit dodgy, if you ask me.’
    â€˜Thanks, mate.’ Cam accepted the beer Lucky handed him and they again edged clear of the liquor booth.
    â€˜But I believe there are many receiving double that price now,’ Lucky said after the obligatory clink and the ‘cheers’. Rob had told him as much. One or two of the farmers, Rob had said, were determined to hold out until the very last minute, which was causing a few headaches for the SMA. ‘Good on them, I say,’ Rob had added.
    â€˜And I hear the price is still going up,’ Lucky said after he’d taken a swig from his glass.
    Cam wasn’t sure whether he was gratified or disappointed by the German’s awareness of the state of play; he’d rather looked forward to explaining things from his point of view. But then, he thought, the German seemed like a very intelligent bloke, and so he decided to move on to his other pet topic, which was a little more sophisticated.
    â€˜Yeah, well, they’ll need fifty quid an acre before they’ll shift me,’ he said. ‘But I’ll tell you something else for nothing, Lucky.’ He lowered his voice, more for dramatic effect than anything. ‘There’s a conspiracy going on with that mob.’
    â€˜Oh? Really?’ Lucky was most interested.
    â€˜Yep.’ Cam was pleased that he’d captured the German’s attention.