The Broken Shore Page #3

- Oh!

- How're you going?

Joe.

I don't remember you

being so tall and thin.

- I had a late growth spurt.

- No, no, I remember you.

Uh, what the hell is going on here?

I just bought this land off the Taylors.

Building a fence.

But don't worry,

I won't ask you to pay for it.

Well, that's very generous of you

but, um, it's on my land

so I want to take it down.

The creek is on my property.

Who was your source

for that information?

- Uh, the agent.

- The agent.

Lawyers listening to agents, eh?

No, the creek's been on Cashin land

for 70 years.

Fine. You want to make an argument

about it, I'm getting a survey...

- I'm just telling you it's on my land.

- ..we'll see about the boundary.

It's not an argument.

Work is to cease forthwith. OK?

Oh, sh... Ow!

- What are you looking at?

- You falling over.

- Hey, thanks for your support.

- I'm on her side.

Hey, Bern'. What happened to that wood

you're s'posed to deliver?

Priority list.

Top rung - paying customers.

Bottom rung - cheapskate relatives

that give me a hard time.

- Friday. Maybe.

- Where'd this bluestone come from?

Reputable wholesaler.

You go to the Macca's drive through and

ask 'em where they got their mince from?

What are you charging for this?

Special family price,

50 bucks a stone.

I'll give you a 50-buck delivery fee

to put it back where you found it.

Come on, cuz,

what are you gonna do with 'em?

They've been sitting in the paddock

for 30 years.

Taking food out

of your own family's mouth.

- You been talking to Mum?

- Your mum doesn't visit the Daunt.

Too good for us.

Doesn't want nothing to do

with the blackfella side of the family.

Say 250 bucks delivery.

You caught our beloved

Charlie Bourgoyne's attacker yet?

- What have you got against the old boy?

- Nothin'. He's our local saint.

Sold the family empire off to the Poms

and they put everyone here on the dole.

- Yeah, well, if you hear anything...

- So you already think it's one of us.

- 200 to deliver.

- 50, delivered tomorrow.

With the bloody wood I paid for.

- Piss off!

- Police!

Just taking a nap, mate.

I want you to come out

with your pants up.

- Hey.

- Got some ID?

Yeah, got me driver's and credit card.

All sorts of sh*t there says who I am.

Allan James Morris, Tilditch Road,

Cromarty.

- Yeah.

- Master builder.

Have your friend step out as well,

please.

F***'.

Over here, please.

Not you, Allan. You got some ID?

Wow.

Let's see your real one, unless

you want me to call Mum and Dad

and we'll do this down the station.

What do you reckon, Allan?

You're a big man to be jumping

a 16-year-old in the back of your van.

- Mate, we was just kissing.

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