by C J Brown
CHAPTER 31
Saturday September 28th
Jimmy’s jaw dropped as he looked at Mia.
“Yes, I know.” Mia looked uncomfortable and self-conscious. “When I told them I hoped it would be a beach wedding, I didn’t figure on being the bridesmaid.”
“No, you look amazing.”
“Thanks, Jimmy.” Mia fiddled with the key that dangled from a gold chain bracelet. “You’ve scrubbed up pretty well yourself.”
“Well, as the usher, I’m pretty much in charge of the whole wedding,” he grinned. Jimmy made lines in the sand with the point of his shoe. “Mia, there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you.”
“Ask me anything, Jimmy.”
“When you were in hospital, you know, unconscious, did you hear any of what people were saying to you?”
“Yes, I think so, although I’m not sure if I was actually hearing it or if I might have been dreaming it. I remember mum telling me about my grandfather leaving Nan the property. Nan said some unrepeatable things about Savannah’s mother.”
“Anything else?”
“I was aware of Savannah talking but I don’t remember what she was saying. Speaking of Savannah, have you heard how she’s going?”
“She’s moved in with her father while her mother is dealing with all this legal stuff. She’s happy at her new school. Do you remember anything else?”
“Oh no, that’s about it,” Mia shrugged.
They walked a little way along the beach.
“Actually, Jimmy,” Mia smiled, “I think I… I think I ... you, too.”
Jimmy stopped. “You did hear!”
“What? I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Mia replied innocently.
“Come on, you guys,” shouted Mitch. “People are starting to arrive.”
Peter smiled broadly and his father, General Thomas Katz (Retired), continued the poem as Alison and Mia walked slowly towards them on the sand.
“…My friend is worth ten shillings, sir,
What give you in his stead?
What any man most deeply yearns,
Love’s promise kept, he said.
Then gazed I through the waters deep
And deeply felt I blest
As my older, whiskered self
Reached up and touched my chest
In truth, did say my ag’ed self,
Your heart is cold to core
But water holds no warmth so look
Instead to distant shore
I did as bid and there behold
My long lost love stood there
In silver gown and golden bows
A rose adorned her hair.”
The morning wedding was only one half of a big day in Clowder Bay. At midday the town’s attention moved to the old post office and the opening of Fudge’s Old Post Office Cafe, boasting the best coffee on the Pacific Coast.
“He kept his promise, Mum. He’s still with you,” smiled Alison looking proudly at the café’s name spread across the window glass in bold, bright orange letters.
“I don’t need a big sign to remind me of that, Ali. I just have to look at you.”
An eclectic and appreciative gathering of friends, locals, VIPs and media was in attendance. Reporters clamoured for interviews with Peter, each looking for an insight into the minds and lives of the terrorists that had kept him captive for so long. For the most part he answered hesitantly and carefully but one question brought a tear to Peter’s eye: How did you survive?
Peter paused and looked at Alison. “I made a promise,” he said.
Once the flashing horde of photographers and journalists had enough snaps of their favourite war hero and his bride most of them filed up the stairs and into what used be Tess’s and her father’s apartment. They filled most of the top floor, spilling out onto the veranda, and tucked into free food and drinks. Some, showing a particular interest in Peter’s sister, stayed outside. However, after revealing that her husband was a commando in the elite SAS regiment, the bulk of Sally’s admirers discretely retreated to join their colleagues upstairs. Only one remained and for his persistence he was rewarded with some exclusive material for a feature on a week in the life of a military trauma counsellor.
The old post office was filled with patrons who were as impressed with the refurbishments and the décor as they were by the refreshments: the tea personally brewed by Tess, the cakes, slices and fudge made by Kevin Trang and the coffee, personally supervised by Alison. Even Rufus acknowledged that he would have to pick his act up if were to stay competitive.
Of particular interest were the café tables and a very proud father of the groom didn’t miss an opportunity to point out to anyone who would listen that Peter had carefully crafted them from timber recycled from the building’s interior. The top of each was a unique and intricate hand-painted rendering of a famous Australian postage stamp. The 1913 Roo stamp, the first to sport the nomenclature Australia, the 1927 stamp marking the opening of the first Parliament House in Canberra and the first Christmas stamp of 1957 were standout favourites.
Later that night the family sat on the balcony of Tess’s new home. They had been watching the moon’s reflection waltzing with the waves as they rolled into the bay and crashed rhythmically onto the beach. At the same time storm clouds had been slowly moving in from the east and now the rain fell heavily.
The flight from New Zealand and the excitement of the day had seen Peter’s parents off to bed early. Alison rested her head on Peter’s shoulder. Mia and Sally shared a light shawl and sipped hot tea from a china cups. Tess nibbled on the last of Kevin Trang’s delicious lamingtons as a purring Ha’penny slept on her lap.
“It’s been an amazing few months,” Alison sighed.
“It would make a wonderful story,” said Sally.
“You should write it, Nan.”
“Good idea,” agreed Peter. “We can all contribute. But where would it start?”
Sally reached over and ran her fingers down the kitten’s back. “I think with this little fella’s great-great-great-great grandparents. Plus a few more greats.”
A flash of lightning lit the bay. Flakes of white Coconut from Tess’s lamington snowed down on ha’penny’s fur speckling his small brown patch.
Tess smiled as the words crept into her head…The storm continued to rage as the heavy turbines of the SS Halfpenny gradually wound down to a dull drone…
THE END
I hope you have enjoyed reading “The Tillerman’s Gift”.
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