Faraway Downs

Australia.

- My husband must sell Faraway Downs.

- All Lord Ashley is asking is that you be patient.

- Patient! Maitland has been out there for a year.

- But, Lady Ashley, the property is the size of Belgium

and the offer from this Cattle King, Mr Carney,

is only one-sixth of what it was once worth.

- £10,000 is enough to save this house and my horses.

- But Maitland is just about to muster the fats.

What?

- Get the big cows ready for market.

Ramsden, let's be honest.

You and I both know there is only one reason

my husband has spent so much time down under,

and it has absolutely nothing to do with cows.

At least not of the animal variety.

- Lady Ashley, I...I do think that's a bit harsh.

It's hardly a crime that everybody loves him.

Oh, dear.

The world is on the brink of war

and all people care about is silly fairy tales.

- Well, I rather like Miss Garland.

Oh, Ramsden, drink your tea.

- Lady Ashley! What do you intend to do?

- I intend to travel to this cattle station,

sell it,

and bring Maitland home myself!

- But, Lady Ashley... it's Australia.

We all remember when Lord Ashley flew out with us.

Great bloke! Everybody loved him.

I'm sure.

Maitland, your concern

regarding war duly noted. Stop.

Have plan concerning cattle.

Sale to King Carney not necessary.

Need more time. Stop.

Nonsense. Stop.

Expect contract for sale of station

to be drawn by time of my arrival. Stop.

Cannot meet you. Stop. Am mustering. Stop.

Have sent trusted man. Stop. The Drover. Stop.

The Drover?

Drover, you boong lover.

- Any of you other Carney boys want to have a go?

Come on, fellas. Don't let fear stand in your way.

I'll have ya.

Hey! No boongs in here!

He's not in the pub, Ivan.

Go on. Run after your boong friend,

'cause as far as this town's concerned, you are a black.

You work with them, you eat with them,

and you sleep with them.

Oh, crikey.

- When you see her, wave your hat.

- What are you waiting for? An invitation?

I hate comin' to town.

Lady Sarah Ashley.

A genuine aristocrat living right here in Darwin.

Administrator, we're at war.

You represent the Government.

As the officer in charge

of livestock purchases for the armed forces--

She's quite a looker.

Oh, yes, she's very, very--

Married?

Quite.

Everybody knows you're here.

His Lordship won't be able to help himself,

seeing you on the wharf.

- I beg your pardon? - Your husband. Lord Maity.

- You know him? - Yeah. Great bloke.

Everybody loves him.

Especially the ladies.

Do you mind?

Her husband, Lord Ashley,

claims he's mustering fats at Faraway Downs.

- Faraway Downs? - Faraway Downs.

The only cattle station in the whole of the north

not owned by Leslie King Carney.

- Lord Maitland Ashley is mustering on Faraway Downs?

Yeah, yeah.

- Isn't quite what we had in mind, is it, Neil?

No. Yeah.

- And now his missus has arrived on the flying boat.

Doesn't look like they're gonna sell Faraway Downs to me, Neil.

Ah, she won't last.

A delicate English rose withers in the outback.

You with me?

- Can't see your Lord Maity. - Oh!

If you must know, I am to be met

by my husband's trusted man, a Mr Drover.

The bloody Drover?

- That's my luggage! That's my luggage!

Put that down. Put that down!

- Look at the little creamies. Seem almost like us, don't they?

What do you mean?

Those little half-caste kids are fair on the outside

but in their hearts, they're as black as night.

I don't understand.

- What do you expect? They come from cattle stations.

Lonely men. Native women.

Native women!

Church does what it can for 'em out on Mission Island.

Maitland!

- Ask the Drover. He's an expert in the subject.

Well, hoo-roo! Give my regards to his Lordship.

Tell him we'll sink a few next time he's in Darwin.

"Sink a few"?

- Maitland Ashley. What a top bloke your husband is.

Everybody loves him.

Ha-ha!

- No, that's... No, that's my luggage.

Hurry! Yes. Bring that down here, thank you.

Quickly. Nine pieces.

Nine. S.A. Ashley.

My husband has sent a trusted man. You savvy?

A Mr Drover.

- The Drover is at the pub, Missus.

No good place for woman.

- No good place for woman. - Pub?

Oh.

Yes.

Move it!

It's quite a coup for my wife.

- Lady Ashley, may I present myself?

I am the wife of the Administrator.

- Look at my wife and daughter down there

giving her the royal welcome.

- My fiancé, Neil Fletcher, manages Faraway Downs.

- We were hoping that you would be patroness

of the Women's Auxiliary Ball at the end of the month.

The end of the month?

Oh, no, no, I shall be returning to London next week,

once I have divorced my husband.

Good luck with your Auxiliary Ball, church fete,

whatever it is you call it, hm?

Did she say 'divorce'?

Bit pale.

Not a bad-looking sheila, but what's the story on the luggage?

Wants to settle down in the outback, does she?

If she stays

and helps Lord Ashley breed cattle on Faraway Downs,

then we've got a competitor for the Army contract, Neil.

- Administrator, Carney's control

of every cattle station in the north

jeopardises the supply of beef to our troops.

You represent the Government.

It's your responsibility to do something

about the Carney Cattle Company.

But it's a poor war

that doesn't make a decent patriot rich,

so I don't want a single beast from Faraway Downs

to set a hoof on that wharf.

You with me, Neil? - Yeah, yeah, yeah.

Nature will take its course.

What about the missus?

- I've arranged for someone special

to give her the old scenic route.

Give her a taste of the outback.

Who's taking her?

The Drover.

The Drover?!

Enjoy the ride, sweetheart.

I'm Sarah Ashley.

- My husband, Lord Ashley, has sent a trusted man

to collect me - a Mr Drover.

- It seems as if he has been waylaid.

No women.

Ladies' lounge next door.

- The hen parlour's thataway, my dear.

- No wonder your establishment is empty.

Good day.

Welcome to Australia.

Hey, look.

Love, you'll be a lot more comfortable

if you change into something a little less, er, constricting.

- You keep your eyes on the road and your hands on the wheel.

Alright.

Just trying to help.

- Oh, goodness. Ah, quick! - Drover!

- Drive faster! - Alright.

Faster!

- You'll never catch us. - Drover, hey, hey!

He is! He is catching us.