by Mark Stewart
ANNELI’S STEPFATHER stood staring out of the hotel window at the Cyclone. He had insisted on paying for the presidential suite and the whole sixth floor for several nights. His plans of having a flawless first impression between Anneli and her future husband seemed to be failing. Hearing the warning on the radio of the imminent cyclone he frantically sprinted from room to room to wake his family. Darryl found each of his sons asleep lying next to a young lady.
“Where’s Meredith?” cussed Darryl, glaring at his middle son lying in bed.
The young blonde haired woman next to him pulled the blanket over her head.
“Dad, what’s the meaning of barging into my private room?”
“I don’t care to answer your question. Have you any idea where your sister is, let alone her husband?”
The young man sighed. “She’s in the room at the end of the hall. Number six twenty-two.”
Darryl marched across the room to the door. Reaching for the handle he looked over his shoulder. “Get dressed. Be downstairs in one minute.”
“I’m tired after my extra late night. Why should I even want to agree to get out of bed?”
The young lady under the blanket curled into a tight ball.
“There’s a cyclone on the way. You have thirty seconds to get yourself downstairs. Bring the young woman.”
Darryl sprinted down the corridor, found room six twenty-two and started pounding on the door. He counted to three before kicking it in.
Meredith’s bags appeared to have been packed and she was waiting for her husband to hang up the phone.
“Quick, downstairs, there’s a cyclone on her way.”
Dirk slammed the phone back on the hook, staring at his father-in-law. “When I woke, early I heard the weather report. They named the storm cyclone, Tracy. I’ve put an order in for two cabs to deliver everyone to the airport. Inside an hour, we’ll be on our way back to Melbourne.”
“There’s no time,” growled Darryl. “The cyclone’s too close. Everybody get downstairs. Congregate in the main reception area. The concierge has insisted everyone stays indoors.”
“Merry Christmas,” blurted Meredith facing her husband.
Dirk gave her a reassuring kiss on the forehead then led the party down the stairs.
In the main dining room, a long table was set for breakfast. When the hot food, consisting of bacon, eggs, toast, jam, pancakes, muffins, and caviar was brought out from the kitchen, the two waitresses were singing a Christmas carol. Evidently, they were ordered to cheer up the patrons.
Darryl marched over to the dining room window to view the cyclone. The wind started rattling the taped glass. The trees were bending, almost touching the ground. Metal signs, bricks, roofing tiles even whole caravans were airborne.
Meredith walked across the pale grey carpet. Standing next to her stepfather she said. “This looks bad.”
“A half hour ago, the radio reported the experts labeled this a freak cyclone. They’ve upgraded the category to number four. If the report is accurate, there won’t be much of Darwin left standing when she’s gone.”
Meredith glued her gaze on a small car tumbling end over end down the road. Before she could react to what she witnessed the car crashed into the building opposite. The building’s brick wall cracked before tumbling to the ground. Brick fragments were scooped up by the wind and hurled further down the road.
“That was too close,” squealed Meredith, rubbing the goose bumps on her bare arms.
“I think we should move away from the window and retire to the banquet table to join in on the festivities. We might be here for a while,” barked Darryl.
“How can you think of food?”
“Easy, I’m hungry for the free breakfast the owner of this hotel has graciously provided.”
Meredith’s jaw dropped open. An expression of sheer panic forced her to pull on her stepfather’s shoulder. “Where’s Anneli?”
“I did try to find her. When your brothers came home, I even asked them. They weren’t much help.”
“You sound like you don’t care.”
“Our heated discussion over my ideas for her planned marriage has left a sour taste in my mouth. I know I should care; however, at this moment, I’m happy she’s not here. Anneli has ruined Christmas enough.”
Meredith gave him a fiery look. “The argument happened nearly twelve months ago.”
“Time flies.”
“Have you even spoken to Anneli since the heated meeting last new-years-eve?”
Hearing footsteps Darryl looked away. “Your husband is coming for you. Be a good girl, keep him happy.”
CHAPTER NINE