The Sunburnt Country Read Online Free PDF

me and I’ll show you some fun while you’re here. I’ll send you back to the city a different bloke. A better bloke.’ Zac slapped his hand on the bar, making Renae look over. ‘Can we’ve another two please, Nae?’
    Dan drained the last of his beer and thought about what Zac had said. He highly doubted that a few months in the bush could change him, beyond drying out his skin and giving him a tan. He was tougher than these country blokes would think; they’d soon find that out.
    *
    The next day after lunch, Daniel let himself in to the three-bedroom house that would be his home here in Bundara. It was one of the nicer ones in town – around six years old with a modern kitchen and tiles throughout. It was a huge improvement on the pub. He’d only been in the house ten minutes when there was a knock at the door.
    ‘Hello, anyone home?’
    A woman in her forties wearing trackpants and workboots, her brown hair pulled into a loose bun, was standing before him. She looked a little rough, like a strong country woman, he guessed.
    ‘Hi,’ said Dan, opening the security door.
    The woman held out her hand. ‘Daniel? How are you going? I’m Jean Symonds. I’m the senior consultant from the bank. I live three houses down. I saw a bit of movement at the house and thought I’d come and introduce myself, see if you needed any help.’
    ‘Oh, thanks, Jean. Um, that’s nice of you, but I’ll be fine. I haven’t really got all that much to do.’
    ‘Okay. Well, I’ll leave you to it and I’ll see you in the office on Monday. But if you have any questions or you’re not doing anything, we have dinner at seven so feel free to pop over then. Our house is the cream one. There’s a ute out the front, ‘SYMMO’ number plates – can’t miss it.’
    Dan stood gripping the door and wondering how it was possible that a lady he’d just met was inviting him into her home to share a meal. ‘Thanks again. So nice of you to offer, but I’ve got dinner sorted.’ Dinner hadn’t crossed his mind, but going to the house of a stranger in a town he’d just arrived in was a bit weird. God, for all she knew, he could have been a murdering psychopath.
    ‘Good luck moving in. It’s the best house in the street. See you Monday,’ she said, before walking back down the footpath.
    As Jean made her way home, Dan saw his removalists pull up out the front. It was only a small white truck with Henderson’s Removals painted on the side. He greeted the driver, Paul, who was wearing a fluoro-yellow shirt that stretched across his enormous belly. Dan slipped his hands into the pockets of his denim shorts as he watched the hydraulic back door of the truck open. The sun’s rays seemed to burn through his white polo shirt, and the back of his legs tingled with heat. It was going to take him a while to adjust to the brutality of the November sun. No-one had warned him about that when they sent him out here.
    A newish Holden ute rumbled along the street and parked nearby. Its black and white plates read ‘MERRIT7’. He recognised Zac in the passenger seat. Zac climbed out of the ute in what seemed to be the Bundara male uniform: singlet, shorts and workboots. A young bloke trailed behind.
    ‘Hey, Dan. I was at the shop when I saw the truck go past. Thought you might be ready for that hand. I brought reinforcements,’ said Zac. ‘This is Rick Merrit: butcher’s son and handy when it comes to moving stuff.’
    Daniel shook hands with Rick, who was about six feet tall and stood eye to eye with Dan. Rick was solid like a man, but still had the face of a teenager. ‘Thanks for coming,’ Dan said.
    Rick shrugged it off. ‘Let’s get cracking, shall we? I’ve still gotta go and pick up the roast for Mum.’
    With four blokes it only took half an hour to unload the bed, couch, TV, fridge, a small cupboard and a dining table and a few boxes.
    ‘Man, you travel light,’ said Zac, after they’d positioned the couch.
    ‘Well, I’m not