by C J Brown
CHAPTER 17
Sydney April 29th 1975
The old tree’s gnarly branch creaked as the rubber-tyre swang back and forth on the long rope.
“Higher, Mummy!” laughed Alison.
“Oh, you’re tiring me out, Ali,” said Tess Newell. “I don’t know what your grandpa was thinking when he put this swing up for you. He certainly wasn’t thinking of me!”
A black car pulled up outside.
“Maybe grandpa can push you when he gets home.” A sombre young man in a military uniform looked at the number on the letterbox. “It’ll still be light then, sweetie.”
Having confirmed that he was at the correct address, the uniformed man looked down the side of the house towards Tess.
“Miss Theresa Newell?” he called.
“Yes.”
“May I come in?”
The uniformed-man marched down the driveway carrying a brown envelope. The news of Charlie McFudgen’s death in Vietnam shocked Tess. It shocked her because, although she had not heard from him for over five years, her feelings for Fudge had never waned, not one little bit. And Ali was a constant reminder. She didn’t know what had happened to make him stop writing but in her heart, in her mind and in her spirit they had still been together. In fact, for an instant when Tess had seen the uniformed soldier hop out of the car she thought it might have been Fudge.
“When did it happen?”
“Only four days ago, Miss.”
“How?”
“I don’t have all the details. It’s war, Miss, men die in all sorts of ways.”
“How?” Tess demanded. “Don’t dare come here telling me he’s dead and not be prepared to tell me how….” Tess cried. “I need to know.”
“Miss,” the soldier hesitated and moved his feet awkwardly. “There was an explosion.”
Tess held young Ali in her arms as the soldier explained that Saigon had fallen to the Viet Cong and the last Australian personnel in the city had gathered at Tan Son Nhut Airfield for evacuation. As they were boarding their Hercules for some unknown reason Charlie McFudgen had assaulted a superior officer and stolen an army jeep. A guard was ordered to stop him by shooting out one of the rear tyres as the vehicle sped from the airfield. Unfortunately Charlie lost control of the jeep and it slammed into some barrels of aviation fuel.
“I’m sorry, Miss, but the explosion was pretty big. I’m not even sure if they were able to find any … any remains, Miss. Sometimes they just flip, Miss. The war gets too much for them.”
As Ali wiped curiously at the tears on her mother’s cheeks, Tess thought about what the solider had said. She composed herself sufficiently to press him further. “But the war was over for Australia. Why would he do that when it was all finished? It doesn’t make sense. When he was finally able to come home, why would he turn back and head directly into danger?”
“I’m sorry, Miss Newell. I can’t answer that. I’ve told you all I know and more than I was authorized to disclose. Please accept the army’s condolences and deepest sympathy. Oh, one more thing…” The soldier held out the envelope. “When Charlie joined up he handed this in for safe keeping. He listed you as next of kin so, whatever it is, now it’s yours. Once again, Miss, on behalf of the army I’m very sorry for your loss.”
And he was gone.
Tess tore open the envelope and found a key engraved T&CM 72. She remembered the promise Fudge had made.
Tess turned away from the window as a booming voice brought her back to the present. “Tess Newell, I can’t believe it’s you?” The tall man’s frame almost filled the doorway.
Tess’s eyes lit up with instant recognition.
“Shorty, Shorty Reynolds! Where did you come from?”
“Where did I come from? Tess, I’ve never moved. Where did you come from?”
The old friends embraced affectionately and exchanged news from the past forty years. Shorty was able to fill Tess in on the fates and fortunes of many of the crowd they used to hang around with. Soon after Fudge had left for Vietnam, Shorty himself had taken a job at the new Amoco service station and before long was running the shop. Eventually he brought the franchise and had done very well for himself. He now owned three independent stations – one in Clowder Bay and two in nearby towns.
“Well,” he looked around the room, “as peaceful as it is in here, this is no place to spend a holiday. What have you done to yourself?”
“Oh, just a little dizzy spell, that’s all,” Tess lied. “I’ll be out of here soon enough. What about you? What brings you to a hospital on a beautiful day like this?”
“My grandson. His parents had to go to Perth and I’m looking after him for a while – but not very well as it turns out. I’ll be in strife when his mum and dad get home. He hurt his foot a few days ago. I thought it was unusual that he was just lying on the couch all day. He didn’t say a word, though, not til I noticed the swelling this morning. X-rays show two broken toes. Hang on! I’ve left him in the corridor.” Shorty hurried out and soon returned pushing a reluctant-looking teenage passenger in a wheelchair.
“Tess, this is Mitchell, my grandson.”
“Hello, Mitchell. What have you done to your foot?”
“Just mucking around on the beach and didn’t see the rock, that’s all.”
“Well, I hope you’re back on your soon,” Tess said cheerily. “You look like you don’t like to be stuck in one place for very long.”
“Yep, he likes to be out and about, this one. Don’t you, mate?” Shorty ruffled his grandson’s hair. “No more beach volleyball for while.”
“Volleyball? My granddaughter was playing that just the other day. She met some nice young people on her very first day here.”
“What’s her name?” Mitchell asked in a tone that suggested he wasn’t really interested in the answer.
“Mia. Mia Turner.” Tess noticed the boy’s eyes widen involuntarily. “Do you know her?”
“Oh, no… I mean not really. She might have been the girl who joined our game on the beach. I don’t really know.”
“Well, Mitchell, Mia has had a lovely time this past week. If you’ve had anything to do with it then I am very appreciative. She hasn’t had an easy time of it of late and she was really looking forward to coming here to see the place where I grew up. She has mentioned a boy called Jimmy. You probably know him.”
“Jimmy? Of course he knows Jimmy. You’ve been best friends since primary school, haven’t you, mate?” A proud grin stretched across Shorty’s face and he looked at Tess. “Those two even made the local news a couple of years back. Got lost in the bush overnight. Well, we all thought they were lost. Turns out they knew exactly where they were. Police were even out looking. All of a sudden those two just emerge from nowhere. Mitchell had sprained his ankle and Jimmy didn’t want to leave him to get help in case he couldn’t find the way back. So Jimmy stayed with him, used his shirt to wrap up his mate’s ankle and built a small fire to stay warm. Next day he found a branch that would make a good crutch and the two of them slowly made their way home.” Shorty ruffled his grandson’s hair again. “Yep, all the money in the world can’t buy a good friend, hey, Mitchell.”
Mitchell, clearly growing agitated, smoothed his hair with his hand. “Yeah, Jimmy’s a good mate.”
“Well, that’s wonderful,” smiles Tess. “I believe his family is experiencing some challenges at the moment, though. That’s when it’s good to have friends, don’t you think? Not just for the good times but to help each other through the difficult patches as well. There are few things worse than a fair-weather friend.”
Mitchell shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “You sound like a teacher.”
“Goodness me, is it that obvious? I’m sorry. And we’re both on holidays, aren’t we?”
“Can we go, Pop? I need to lie down.”
“Sure, mate. Well, Tess it’s been great to see you. How about lunch sometime?”
Oh, another date, Tess thought. Bertie and Shorty facing off in th
e middle of Beach Road. Books and spanners at ten paces … I’d like to see that!