by Cenarth Fox
Ralph considered bugging the Labcope R & D laboratory, but the company’s security team swept the building, and would discover any device the CEO installed. He needed his spy to come good.
After watching the election telecast, Annuska and Dorothy retired. In the darkness they chatted about the result before Annuska changed tack.
‘I haven’t told you everything about the trials for Bernie’s new drug, my darling, because I’m worried.’
‘Blind Freddy can see that,’ replied Dorothy.
‘Young Mr Slim is a brilliant scientist. His Moral Compass Pill works with amazing results. But I fear he’s swimming in shark-invested waters.’
‘Infested.’
‘His human guinea pig trials have been wildly successful. If those trials are expanded and produce identical results, Bernie’s drug will change society and kind humans forever.’
‘Humankind,’ said Dorothy, who leaned over, kissed Annuska, then turned her back and went to sleep.
‘Humankind forever,’ repeated Annuska. ‘Goodnight my darling.’
Not far from Balaclava, every word of this conversation was heard and recorded. The Hyphen’s spy, opened a laptop, clicked on a particular foodies’ site, and, as Peregrine, left a comment about the Recipe of the Day. As before, this coded message meant news for the Labcope CEO; seriously interesting news.
In Bernie’s house, the scientist watched the election result with Albert who, having refused to vote, found the voices of commentators soporific.
‘What should I do, old boy?’ asked Bernie, fondling his cat’s ears. ‘More trials or should I get the formula patented?’
Despite Kate having discovered a listening device in this very room, everything Bernie said was heard and recorded. The Hyphen’s spy had bugged both Annuska’s and Bernie’s abodes. By saying nothing, at least Albert didn’t let the human out of the bag.
Kate took little interest in the election telecast. She was busy preparing work for Labcope, worrying about her future career, and the health of her mother. She thought about Bernie Slim, and her feelings. She knew he liked her. But did she feel the same about him?
Lois and her mother watched the ABC election night telecast, and civilized conversation filled the room. Lois continued to be shocked.
‘I’m glad that girl has become the Premier,’ said the former irascible parent. Mother spoke calmly, sensibly and politely.
‘Did you know we have a connection with the new Premier?’ replied her daughter.
‘We do? What do you mean?’
The reformed harridan added genuine curiosity to her repertoire.
‘The Premier’s Chief of Staff is Uncle Stephen’s goddaughter.’
‘I didn’t know that. How interesting. Why didn’t you tell me?’
Lois worried. “Why didn’t you tell me?” sounded potentially aggressive. Was it the first step on the slippery slope to sarcasm?
Is Mother having a relapse? Has the effect of the drug faded? Is she about to say something caustic and cruel?
Had Lois been brave, she might have spoken the following.
“You don’t know about the Premier’s Chief of Staff, Mother, because you never take any interest in your brother or his family.”
Lois cringed expecting a blast from her mother. A blast? Are you kidding? Mother delivered a stunning reply.
‘I really should take more interest in my dear brother. It’s his birthday next week. We must go and see him.’
Had a feather been to hand, Lois might well have been poleaxed.
My God, if Mother’s response is typical, Bernie’s formula is a hit.
Kate called Bernie on Saturday night soon after the Premier conceded.
‘Family issues; I need to fly to Sydney in the morning,’ she said.
‘You haven’t asked my permission,’ replied Bernie.
She knew he was kidding.
‘Ah, so you like to control your women. I’m glad I discovered that before I fell for your charms.’
‘My charms?’ laughed Bernie. ‘I’ve never had anyone say that before.’
‘Now that I find hard to believe.’
His pulse began an accelerando. He continued.
‘I hope things are okay. When are you back? I can collect you.’
‘Not sure,’ said Kate. ‘My mother’s not well. I’ll book once I’m ready. I’ll text you.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘No, I’m positive,’ laughed Kate, and they both felt good.
The call ended with Bernie feeling both sad and glad.
Bernie looked at Albert. ‘Is this love, young man? Has your heroic master fallen for this girl?’ Albert yawned. Ah, the wisdom of felines.
Next morning, Sunday, Bernie enjoyed a lie-in when his phone rang, and he spoke without looking at caller ID.
‘Good morning. What’s the weather like in Sin City?’
‘I have no idea.’
‘Lois. I’m sorry. I thought you were someone else.’ Bernie suddenly turned serious.
Why is Lois calling me at home on the weekend?
Panic invaded his dialogue. ‘Is everything okay? How is your mother?’
‘Are you sitting down?’ Bernie stood. ‘You will not believe my mother. Not only is she not returning to her wicked ways, she just keeps getting kinder and sweeter and more considerate.’
Bernie relaxed. ‘That’s fantastic, Lois, I’m really, really pleased.’
‘We need to talk, Bernie. I’ve got an idea to test your wonderful MCP at another level.’ He blanched. ‘We can’t talk about it on the phone or at work. Can we meet today? It’s important.’
‘Okay.’
‘What about your girlfriend?’
‘Ah, she’s in Sydney. I thought you were Kate when I answered.’
‘There’s a coffee shop in Middle Park. How does 3pm sound?’
‘Fine. But will your mother mind?’
‘I’ll text you the address. This is big, Bernie, bigger than big. Bye.’
Ralph lived in an apartment in The Righi, South Yarra, with the postcode being super important. Bernie lived on the other side or north of the river, and in jest, sometimes called Cremorne, North South Yarra.
Living a short walk from the Royal Botanic Gardens meant the Hyphen could stroll to his dead-letter drop locale. His recipe code sent him there. He collected his latest missive, and read with shaking hands.
Target A created new drug with help from Target B. Drug known as Moral Compass Pill. Trials successful. Target A’s girlfriend discovered listening device but new one installed. Both Targets unaware of their listening device.
The Hyphen walked home pondering this latest news.
What is this Moral Compass Pill? What are these trials? How can I get the formula?
Albert Park housed several coffee shops. Bernie cycled, and arrived wearing helmet, tracksuit and sweat. Lois beamed from her table. Bernie ordered coffee, and settled for a blueberry muffin. He joined Lois.
‘You are a genius,’ she blurted, too loud for Bernie’s comfort.
‘Shhh,’ he whispered as other coffee consumers looked at them.
‘Sorry,’ replied Lois in a far softer voice. ‘I’m still in shock. My mother’s had a personality bypass. She’s a new person, and everything you said would happen has.’
‘I said “might” not “would”. Now has she had any headaches?’
‘At first, yes. But once she apologised, they disappeared, exactly as you predicted. I only gave her a small dose, so God knows what might have happened if she took more.’
‘I’m so happy for you, Lois. What a difference in your life.’
‘Yes, it’s wonderful, but so is your drug. How many trials is it now?’
‘Just three.’
‘And every one a resounding success.’
Bernie nodded. He wanted to pinch himself.
Is this really happening?
‘You must take out a patent,’ insisted Lois, now his biggest fan. ‘Immediately,
first thing tomorrow.’
Bernie hesitated. ‘I’ll need legal advice.’
‘Find a lawyer who deals in patents. I’ll help if you like.’
Bernie sat stunned. Lois’s enthusiasm scared him.
What have I unleashed?
But if Bernie felt overwhelmed by Lois and her suggestions, he was gobsmacked with her next comment.
‘You have to trial it on someone important.’
Bernie’s mouth opened revealing some muffin. ‘Someone important?’
‘If someone in the public eye takes the drug, we, and the rest of the world, can observe how it works.’
‘If it works.’
‘We’ll know it works if a public figure becomes the latest guinea pig.’
Bernie imagined a prime minister, a famous footballer, or a member of a well-known royal family popping the MCP, and then having the world’s media broadcast confessions of previously unknown “sins”.
Lois is nuts.
‘Lois, I’m thrilled your Mum has become a kind and friendly person, but I’m not sure about conning someone famous.’
Lois turned sombre. She almost hissed.
‘Well you’ve changed your tune.’ She attacked. ‘I remember a certain scientist saying, “If that happened, society would change for the better all over the world.” What’s happened to that person?’
Both stopped talking. Both felt overawed. This MCP was bigger than Donald Trump’s hubris. Lois had a human being for a mother, and Bernie had amazing results for his sci-fi invention. He got curious.
‘So tell me about your famous person.’
‘My uncle is godfather to the new Premier’s Chief of Staff, and it’s my uncle’s birthday next week, and my mother wants to go.’
‘Great.’ Bernie didn’t mean that.
‘She hasn’t spoken to her brother for years; used to call him an idiot.’
‘And his goddaughter?’
‘Genevieve Kovács is the Premier’s sidekick. People say without her Chief of Staff, the Premier would never be Premier.’
‘So how would this Chief of Staff be involved in any trial?’
‘I spike her drink at my uncle’s party, and we see what happens.’
Bernie felt sick. ‘You can’t be serious?’
‘Never more so.’
‘You do know that’s illegal? We could go to jail for years.’
‘You did it.’ She was right. ‘Bernie, this drug is too important. If these first trials are genuine, your MCP could change the world.’
He clenched his fists. This crazy idea looked set to explode. Fear took over. Let me out, he screamed in silence. They whispered their argument.
‘Look, Lois, why don’t I just hand it over to Labcope?
She looked at him unable to believe his change of heart.
‘You’re not serious. That is absurd; mind-bogglingly fucking stupid.’
He froze. Lois swore! She never swore. Now she almost begged.
‘Bernie, don’t quit now. At least, let me try this one final test. You’ve run two; let me run two.’ They stared into each other’s eyes. ‘Please.’
He had massive doubts, and argued against Lois and her plan.
‘We can’t study this Genevieve’s reactions. She’s not a public figure.’
‘True, but if the drug works, her behaviour will impact her friend and boss, and she, Premier Jessica Reid, is most definitely a public figure.’
Bernie exhaled.
His can of worms was open, and the wriggly blighters were off and running.
14
GENEVIEVE GOT LUCKY with her godfather. Stephen Rose encouraged his goddaughter to study economics. A top banking executive, he gave her invaluable introductions. Sure, she had brains and drive, but sometimes it’s not what you know but who. Besides, nepotism, like the poor, will always be with us.
Uncle Stephen watched Genevieve’s brilliant banking career with pride. When she switched to politics, he shrugged, and wished her well. Years later, and especially right now, everything looked hunky-dory.
Stephen’s birthday pulled a crowd. His son and his wife and kids were there, even his former wife and her hubby. His goddaughter, Genevieve, and her hubby and their kids never missed. Several of his old banking buddies and two long-time neighbours dropped in. But the showstopper, the red-carpet scene-stealer, the hold-the-front-page arrival featured his niece, Lois and her miserable mother. Miserable?
Stephen hadn’t spoken to his sister in ages, so much so he didn’t recognise her at first. And when she spoke and smiled, and actually kissed her sibling, Stephen thought the world was about to end.
Niece Lois often popped in but they rarely discussed “Mother”. Who wants to talk about complaining, self-pitying people who revel in rudeness?
And speak of the devil; here stood the mystery guest. Mystery was right as few recognized her.
‘Hello Lois,’ they cried, and kissed the scientist before waiting to be introduced to the gray-haired octogenarian.
Lois knew Genevieve well. Through Uncle Stephen, the women met on many occasions. With the party underway, they landed in the kitchen.
‘I’m so glad your mother was able to come,’ said Genevieve removing cling film from her tray of sandwiches.
‘You and me both,’ replied Lois. ‘And by the way, congratulations on the election result.’
‘Thanks.’
‘So what’s our new Premier really like?’
‘Interesting,’ said Genevieve and left it at that.
‘To me, she comes across as a woman on a mission; strong but sensitive.’ Lois changed tack. ‘Oh sorry, I didn’t mean to pry. It’s just that I admire any woman who can shatter that glass ceiling.’
‘Let’s chat later. Right now my sausage rolls need rescuing.’
‘Sure,’ smiled Lois, and took her finger food to the party guests.
En route, a firm hand grabbed her arm. The host dragged Lois aside.
‘Thanks for the heads up on your mother but, bloody hell Lois, what’s with the Mother Teresa routine? Is she for real? She’s not dying is she?’
‘Not that I know but please, Uncle, let’s be thankful for small mercies.’
‘Small? She’s been transformed. Has she found religion?’
Lois lied with ease. ‘No idea. She’s been getting less irritable for a while, and the other day, made a big apology for her behaviour. I didn’t understand it or care why, I’m just so happy to see her happy.’
‘Something’s not right. You scientists are always inventing drugs. I bet you’ve found a cure for selfish whingers.’
Lois laughed to dismiss her uncle’s claim. She now had proof that many a true word is spoken in jest.
Before Stephen’s interrogation could continue, singing broke out.
A flaming cake appeared, and the birthday boy left to celebrate. Once the speeches concluded, the party started to wind down. The kids still had energy to burn, although the adults took the weight off their legs.
Lois spotted Genevieve, and offered the goddaughter a coffee.
‘Here’s what you need, Genevieve. There’s even a little something special inside.’
Genevieve laughed, took the mug, and toasted Lois. They both sipped.
Lois told only some of the truth. A nip of brandy was in Genevieve’s brew, but so too was a portion of a certain Moral Compass Pill. The women relaxed although Lois had a much, much faster heart rate.
Perhaps the craziest part of the party involved “Mother”, who simply didn’t want to leave. She ignored her brother for years, and now wanted to make up for all those missed birthdays.
Stephen made a face and Lois took the hint.
‘Come on, Mum, it’s time we got going.’
‘Oh really,’ complained the former tyrant. ‘And just when we’re having such a good time.’ Lois got her mother to the front door where the siblings kissed. ‘Now brother dear, you know where we live. Don’t be a stranger.’
Lois and Stephen
looked at one another.
Is she for real?
The visitors left, Stephen shut the door, and shook his head.
Whatever she’s on, the manufacturer will make a mint.
Bernie and Maddy decided. The estate agent reckoned they could get 1.85 with ease. With so many interested bidders, 1.9, 2 or more might happen. But the best settlement would be 60 days, possibly 90. The siblings wanted the cash immediately.
So what about your developer mates,’ asked Bernie?
‘Not as much money but settlement within 30 days, sooner if you cut a deal.’
‘How much money,’ asked Maddy?
‘1.8, maybe 1.85.’
Gus and Daphne needed professional accommodation right now. Their babysitter, Chloe, was going overseas. The choice was simple; find temporary respite now, or, move the folks to permanent residential care, if they could, immediately. But whichever choice they made, they needed money as soon as possible.
The agent left the “kids” to make a decision.
‘We might not be able to find a respite place which will take both of them,’ said Maddy.
‘150 grand is a lot less money,’ replied her brother.
‘Bernie, we need to agree on a plan, and stick to it.’
‘Well why don’t we try developers and get as much as we can, but with a very quick settlement?’
Maddy nodded. ‘I’m glad you said that. Dad, and particularly Mum, need immediate help. Will you tell the agent?’
Bernie did, and within days, a developer bought their parents’ home of 36 years. He paid almost immediately but wanted vacant possession.
The adult children chose an expensive nursing home cum retirement village with a special wing for high care and dementia patients. Now came the tricky part — waiting for a vacancy. In the meantime, they found temporary respite care. Bernie and his sister felt sad and glad.