by John Kelly
Ten days later
'Could someone please explain to me what became of the Meijji artefact?' The question came from David Maclean.
'You should ask George about that,' Amanda answered.
'George, what have you got to say about that?'
'I don't know what you are talking about,' George replied, unconvincingly.
'Perhaps I can put everyone out of their misery,' Andrew Patterson suggested, as all eyes in the room centred on him.
'George was very clever when he re-wrote Michael's journal. He put a different ending on each of the three copies, just to confuse those who weren't sure of exactly what happened with the artefact. Ronnie Maclean's copy was different from Derek's copy which was different from my father's copy.
Ronnie's copy had precise details as to where the artefact could be found. Those details came from my father, Len. But Len forget to mention one vital fact. George didn't know that my father not only buried it, he also dug it up and put it in a safety deposit box and some years later, arranged for it to be handed over to Tokuo.'
'So all that traipsing around the forest at Kamakura was a waste of time?' David protested.
'Did you not like the forest Mr. Maclean?' Shigeko asked.
'I must have shed three kilos for the effort,' he answered.
'What about the gold?' Michael Balwyn asked.
'There was no gold,' Andrew replied. 'I knew that much. That is why I removed some pages from your journal, Amanda. I didn't want you running off on a wild goose chase. You needed to focus on the facts.'
'But my father told me there were some gold ingots,' Quentin said.
'There was originally, but he had long since converted them back to cash to help pay for some of the medical expenses of A-bomb victims. He probably had forgotten about it,' Andrew replied.
Len Patterson sat there quietly allowing his son to satisfy everyone's need for answers. When his opportunity came, he explained it his way.
'Michael wrote his journal,' he began, 'but his son decided to make it more interesting. He saw dollars in a good book and made a few changes, hired a private detective to find the people mentioned and sent out copies expecting that he would set a cat amongst the pigeons. He was right. Quentin Avers took the bait but fortunately for him, located me first. George had already contacted me and asked if I would be his shadow. I was the only one who knew the whole story. I said yes to George, but I didn't trust him. There were too many anomalies in the journal. I guessed that he had altered it. So, Quentin and I worked together.
'We wanted someone inside BLM to work for us while George thought I was working for him. We heard about Amanda and Quentin made the contact. Amanda was the one unknown factor. She was smarter than all of us. In the end, I think we'll all be winners. George will have his book, but Amanda will make sure it's the real story, not some piece of heavily edited fiction.
'And it won't contain any la-di-da,' Amanda chipped in, giving Quentin a side glance.
'Any what?' George asked.
'La-di-da, George,' Quentin answered. 'It's what good books could do better without.'
'Don't follow you,' George replied.
'Didn't think you would,' Quentin answered.
'If I may be allowed to continue?' Len asked.
'Continue what?' George asked a little confused.
'As I was saying when I was so rudely interrupted,' Len proceeded, 'Amanda has her story, and having Shigeko and Michael reunited is a bonus. Yoshiko now knows her biological father, which doesn't threaten Tokuo in any way. The importance of the world knowing the extraordinary contribution Derek Avers made to the 'Hibakusha' is what we should all feel good about. If anyone's reputation or ego has been put out of place, we'll put that down to collateral damage.'
The reunion took place at the bedside of Ronnie Maclean at Coventry House nursing home. It was the first full assembly of the competing parties since the gathering at Lillico. Penelope and Evelyn Maclean had sought permission from the management to hold what she called an old soldiers' reunion.
'What war did they fight in?' the manager asked of her.
'They were part of the British Commonwealth Occupation Force,' Penelope replied proudly.
'What occupation?' the manager asked.
This was 2007, and the question, 'What occupation?' lingers long in the minds of thousands of soldiers who volunteered to join BCOF. Those that are still alive, that is. The question of the effects of residual radiation on the health of occupation veterans who served in Hiroshima, still remains a sore point. Particularly with those who arrived there in the winter of 1946, just six months after the dropping of the bomb.
As Ronnie Maclean lay dying in his bed, his body surrendering to the insidious, energy draining effects of leukaemia, and Derek Avers, now dead and buried from the same terminal condition, the selfish concerns of their children had now given way to the broader issues. Questions about who did what, why and when, in the final analysis seemed trivial. Quentin Avers realized his efforts to restore his father's good name stemmed not from a poorly worded journal but his anger at successive Australian governments' indifference to the chronic allergies and infections suffered by his father throughout his life; allergies he attributed to radiation exposure. Despite a litany of cases presented to the Department of Veterans' Affairs, seeking compensation, all efforts have been in vain despite the lack of any comprehensive health study ever being undertaken. Ronnie MacLean's efforts to have his son, David find the missing gold ingots, had more to do with his disillusionment; his country, he felt, had deserted him. He wanted something to show for his service. He wanted to be remembered for something. Anything! Michael Balwyn wrote his journal for the same reason. He had given up any hope of ever seeing Shigeko or his Japanese progeny again. He wanted to have the event on the record in the hope that after he had passed on, his son George might show some interest.
Amanda sat at the back not wanting to interfere with the recollections and reminiscing of the warriors of 1946. Shigeko, Michael, Ronnie and Len shared their stories together while she, George, Yoshiko, and Quentin looked on. One thing had been resolved. They would all travel to Japan within three months to do it all over again, this time allowing Tokuo and Masako to take their rightful place in the league of players. There, they could all rest in the knowledge that for them, the sun could finally set on their Hiroshima.
When the party broke up, Evelyn and Penelope ushered Yoshiko to the front door, dying to ask what it felt like to wear a kimono. Quentin walked out alongside George, explaining what is meant by literary la-di-da, while Shigeko and Michael strolled hand in hand down the corridor. Amanda took a gamble and invited Andrew Patterson to dinner, while David Maclean delayed his departure, anxious to spend a few private moments with his father.
'A good day, Dad?' he suggested.
'Yes, son, it was a good day.' Ronnie replied, buoyed at having been reunited with old mates.
'All's well that ends well, I suppose,' David added.
'Yep,' Ronnie agreed, resting his head on the pillow.
'Hold out your hand for a second, Dad,' David posed.
'What for?' Ronnie queried.
'I have something for you,' David answered.
Ronnie slowly brought his hand out from underneath the covers and unexpectedly felt a load of heavy metal weigh his hand down.
'What have we got here, son?' he asked.
'Take a look, Dad,' David answered.
Ronnie slowly brought his hand up to eye level, and opened out his fingers to reveal two bright gold ingots shining in the fluorescent light.
'Well, stuff me,' Ronnie chuckled, 'I thought Len said he moved them all to a safe deposit box.'
'Not all of it, Dad,' David replied, as he winked at his father. 'Not all of it
ter: grayscale(100%); filter: grayscale(100%); " class="sharethis-inline-share-buttons">share