After Ariel: It started as a game

by Diana Hockley

  AFTER ARIEL

  It started as a game...

  By

  Diana Hockley

  © Diana Hockley 2014. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  Other books by Diana Hockley available on www: amazon.com

  THE NAKED ROOM, 2011

  THE CELIBATE MOUSE, 2011

  Short stories:

  The Metamorphosis of Troubadour Merriwether

  The Cloud

  Frisbee, Rat Detective

  Christmas with Snoz

  An Honourable Man

  Requiem for a Lost Youth

  Diana Hockley’s Amazon page:

  www.dianahockley.webs.com

  *

  All characters and events in this publication are fictitious, any resemblance to real persons, living or dead or any events past or present are purely coincidental.

  © Diana Hockley 2014

  Dedication:

  For Andrew and our sweet Inky, now at the Rainbow Bridge.

  Acknowledgements:

  Retired Detective Senior Constable Melanie Mather, Friends and fellow writers: Mar Preston, Gillian McKee, Susan Fleet and Martin Line, Photographer Peter Truer, Retired Senior Sergeant Pat Ritter and Nigel Munro-Wallis. Also Senior Sergeant Peter Boyce, Doctor Nat Sheehan, friends – Pam, Jo, Andrea, Felicity and Margaret, all who have put up with my whining at some stage. A special thank you to my friend, Barbara Dykes, who went through this book for typos and dramas!

  Thank you to Kings River Life Magazine for allowing your title to be used in this novel.

  NOTE:

  This book is written in ‘Australian English’ which, of course, is a slightly bastardised version of Queen’s English! We use‘s’ instead of ‘z’ ‘our’ instead of ‘or’ and in the case of one of those things which moves your car – ‘tyre’ instead of ‘tire’ J

  We also have a plethora of ‘Aussiespeak’ which we use with impunity and a certain amount of smugness. Here is a dictionary for those of you who think we are quite mad. Of course, we are not.

  GLOSSARY OF AUSTRALIAN/BRITISH SLANG

  4WD: four wheel drive vehicle, SUV.

  Arvo: afternoon

  Arse: butt, bum, ass

  Awesome: this word is frequently used by teens indicate that something is pretty good.

  Berk: fool.

  Bikies: bikers.

  Bloke: man, guy.

  Boag: dude.

  Bolshie: cranky, feisty.

  Bollocking: scolding.

  Bonkers: mad, crazy.

  Boot: when related to the car, this refers to the ‘trunk.’

  Brick wall you-know-what: The person is built like a very large, indestructible toilet block. Usually said in a coarser manner!

  Bull-dusted: Bull dust is a fine red dust out west of NSW in NT, QLD and Western Australia.

  Bum/Arse: bottom, fanny, butt & ass

  Bung: put

  Cattle grid: nickname for the turnstiles inside the foyer of police HQ in Brisbane.

  CBD: Central Business District.

  Chateau Cardboard: wine in a box with a tap attached. Natural habitat: backyard barbecues.

  Chooffed (off): went away, trundle off – a slang term for someone walking away.

  Chooks: chickens

  City Cat: Catamaran connecting points of the city via the Brisbane River.

  Classic Drive: Program of classical music played in the afternoon, about the time people drive home from work.

  Cobbler’s Peg: a small single sticky burr which drives you crazy picking millions of them out of your socks before the wash. Also known as Farmers Friend, Beggars Ticks, Spanish Needle, Black Jack and formally, Bidens Pilosa.

  “Could have fooled me”: Sarcastic Aussie saying, meaning you haven’t fooled me one little bit!

  Cop shop: police station.

  Cracking hardy: pretending nothing is wrong, being stoic.

  Cranky: irritable/ angry but not toweringly mad.

  Docos: documentaries.

  Doolally: mad, crazy, bonkers.

  Doona: eiderdown, duvet.

  Driz-a-bone (dry-as-a bone): a heavy duty, almost canvas, oiled all-weather coat.

  Drongo: idiot

  Drop of a hat: do something immediately without planning.

  Dymocks: major booksellers.

  Fisted: bunched hand into a fist.

  Flat: unit or apartment.

  Galah: a pink, grey and white parrot who doesn’t mind making a fool of himself. A term also used for youths who are doing just that.

  Go mental: get really angry.

  Granny Smith: a large, green crunchy apple used copiously in pies and crumbles. Used in this context as “the apple of his parent’s eye” meaning he can do no wrong.

  ‘Hairy one’: difficult or dangerous one.

  Hunk: handsome man.

  Kip: nap, sleep.

  Kipling’s Bandarlog: In Hindi, Bandar means "monkey"

  Knock off: kill, or leaving work, e.g. “knock-off time”

  Knocking off: Youths or uncouth oafs referring to having sex. “Jeez, I’d like to knock her off, mate!”

  Lift: elevator

  Lift: ride as in picked a person up to give them a ride to somewhere, e.g. “Do you want a lift to work?”

  Lorikeets: brightly coloured (red, green, blue and yellow) small Australian parrots. Nasty, greedy, noisy little thugs, much given to chasing other birds away from the seed feeders.

  Lug: drag

  Macca’s: McDonald’s eateries.

  Manky: scruffy, ill-kempt

  Message stick: USB stick

  Mobile phone: cell phone.

  Mock Orange: sweet smelling blossom.

  Muso: musician.

  My bad: sarcastic acknowledgement of wrong doing accompanied by sanctimonious eye rolling, expertly performed by teenage girls.

  NAFIS: National Automated Fingerprint Identification Service.

  On about: what he or she means when they’re talking about something incomprehensible. E.g. “What are you on about now?”

  Parka: anorak, puffy waterproof, hooded jacket.

  (A) Pretty good fist of it: a very good effort.

  Pub-light: the gleam in the eye of a thirsty man heading off to the pub for a beer after work.

  Pud: pudding, dessert.

  Red Ned: red wine, quite often an inexpensive brand of Shiraz, Burgundy or Rosé.

  Rooster: in this context, a young, lusty man.

  Ruckus: commotion.

  Scallywags: naughty. If a bloke or a child is a “scallywag” then he or she is naughty but not really bad. (Scottish)

  Scoffs: eats rapidly, like a wolf!

  Scrub up: tidy up, to make oneself look nice.

  Scrubber: a ‘loose’ woman.

  Shearwater: medium-sized, long-winged seabird.

  Shire Council: local government body, e.g. county.

  Shonky: suspect, suspicious.

  Sig Event: Significant Event Report. Copspeak.

  Sig other: significant other – lover, man friend.

  Size twelves: the size of his shoes.

  Skellums: Idiomatic Shona term for minor criminals.

  Solicitor: No, he’s not trawling for business – well – a lawyer! May I refute that first statement? J

  Spot on: accurate, correct.

  Sprung: caught.

  Super: Superintendent, as in police rank.

  Sussed out: discovered/cover blown as in undercover investigation.

  Tafe: Technical and Fur
ther Education College

  ‘Talked for the Olympics’: A saying which means the person talked so rapidly and copiously that he or she was Olympic standard.

  Tanti: short for ‘tantrum’

  Takeaway: a meal ‘to go’

  Thick: in this instance, ‘stupid.’

  Tubby: chubby, a little overweight.

  Unit: apartment or flat.

  Vanity: bathroom cupboard, frequently a repository for the washbasin and if wide enough, makeup and miscellaneous clutter necessary to women!

  Wanker: idiot, fool.

  ‘Who’s who at the zoo’: Australian police term for the villains in the community.

  Witter: babble, talk nonsense.

  Wonkus: faint, wobbly.

  Wonky: wobbly, skewhiff.

  Yabby: freshwater crayfish.

  Yonks: ages, a long time.

  Music mentioned in this novel.

  Gluck: Dance of the Blessed Spirits from Orfeos and Eurydice.

  Haydn: Concerto for Flute and Piano

  Mozart: Concerto No 20 in D Major.

  Mozart: Clarinet Concerto, First Movement.

  Schubert: Shepherd on a Rock.

  Jeffrey finds the Shoe

  Saturday, 8AM

  ‘Jeff-reeeey!’

  He shook his head and tugged harder.

  ‘Jeffrey? Jeffrey, where are you! Here, boy!’

  Jeffrey, who had failed Obedience School abysmally, ignored his master’s call. He pulled harder. The object, caught under a sharp twig, suddenly freed from the pile of branches, landing on the grass in front of him, sending Jeffrey back onto his haunches. The call came closer. Torn between his natural inclination to disobey and a vestige of training left in his frivolous brain, Jeffrey hesitated.

  ‘Jeff-reeeeeeeeeey!’ The voice rose to a screech.

  He stared at the pile of branches and weeds, yearning to investigate further – the smell was so enticing – then picked up his prize and galloped the twenty metres separating him from his master. His tail wagged furiously. Look what I’ve got!

  ‘Not again, Jeffrey, you stupid animal! Why did I have to get a Labrador with a “shoe fetish?”?’

  His master reached down, grasped the sandal and twisted. Jeffrey resisted until the shiny leather straps were decidedly the worse for wear, before surrendering his trophy. ‘Let’s hope the woman who owns this isn’t looking for it, mate, because it’s ruined now.’ His master turned the sandal around, frowning at the teeth marks marring its red patina. Some silly drunken cow playing in the park...

  Sighing, he tucked his finger under the heel strap of the drool-covered sandal and headed for home, keeping it well away from his trouser leg. Jeffrey paused to glance back toward to the pile of branches, gave a mental doggy shrug and followed. He would get breakfast when he got home and maybe investigate the pile of branches if he was lucky enough to get an evening walk.

  *

  CHAPTER 1

  The Pickup.

  Friday, 3.51PM

  He shouldn’t have squeezed the baby. He had known that for his adult life, an eight year- olds recollection. His mother’s voice returned, a fragment from a radio play – ‘You must always be gentle, darling,’ – words imprinted on his mind to surface when he least expected, bearing no relationship to any of the bizarre events which regularly coursed through his REM sleep.

  He jerked into wakefulness, momentarily disoriented until he got his bearings. The plane bounced in an air-pocket. Piercing ring tones flared from the seat opposite. His brow crinkled in momentary annoyance.

  Her clear, bell-like tone took him by surprise; he hadn’t figured her for refined. He closed his eyes, allowing her words to wash over him before he focused on her face. Small, dainty and dark-haired, with “Bailey's Irish Cream” complexion and velvety skin, she personified all that he was attracted to. He wasn’t too charmed by the ring in her nose, but the multi-coloured beads shimmering in her ears reminded him of glow-worms. He wanted to skim his fingertips over the bright buttons, to glide across the soft, milky skin of the back of her neck. Her spicy perfume wafted across the aisle.

  ‘I missed the bus, so I decided to fly... No, they don’t know. Dad would go mental if he knew...Yes, on my way home ... No, I’m going to be on my own tonight, because they want me to be there to look after the house and answer the phone, but thanks lots. I’ll see you tomorrow.’

  The elderly woman sitting next to him by the window hissed disapproval, but he’d caught the most important part. She’d be home alone.

  She snapped off her mobile and thrust the plug of her iPod past the dangling trinkets into her ear, then pulled a lurid-looking paperback from her tote bag. She stuck her little pink tongue out, moistened the tip of a forefinger and flicked the pages until she found her place. He watched through half-closed eyes as she became engrossed in the story, her foot tapping in time to a silent rhythm. Wonder if she’d like company tonight, but would she want to play the games he had in mind? He was on for play anytime, anywhere...

  Had he spoken his thoughts aloud? He shot a sidelong glance at the fat man sitting in the window seat shuffling to get comfortable. Perhaps, like himself, he’d had to get somewhere at the last minute and copped “cattle class.” His attention snapped back to the dark-haired girl who had taken her iPod plugs out of her ears and was speaking on her mobile again.

  ‘Hi, it’s me, Ariel. Doing anything tonight?’ Her face scrunched as she listened. ‘Oh, well it’s like, I can’t go out. Have to be home ...yeah, it sucks.’ She listened for a moment or two more, then trilled, ‘Okay, by-ee.’

  Snapping her mobile shut, she sensed someone watching. She turned her head and smiled. A thrill shot through him. Heat spread throughout his body, pulses of excitement flooded his limbs, chasing prickles of perspiration out to the tips of his fingers and toes. He clenched and unclenched his hands and shifted in his seat. ‘Don’t be so ready to assume, love. Not everyone wants to play.’ The stricture was angrily dismissed. Get away from me, Mum. Onetwothreefour...

  Exhaling slowly he allowed his gaze to wander back to Ariel, intending to make an opportunity to talk to her when they arrived in Brisbane. He glowed with anticipation. ‘Don’t get excited, love. You’re too impetuous!’ Shut up, Mum. Leaning back into his seat, he allowed his eyelids to drift shut.

  The announcement over the address system to fasten their seatbelts jolted him awake. He leaned forward and gazed out of the window, counting the airport buildings and as they taxied to the terminal, including the planes parked along the side of the paved access roadway. Once the seatbelt light went out, he got to his feet and reefed his backpack down from the overhead locker, stepped across the aisle and dragged her faded tote bag out of the locker. Ariel’s hazel eyes, framed by long lashes, met his. ‘Thanks. It’s like, too high for me.’

  ‘I’ll carry it for you.’ He cast a husky tone into his voice. Girls like that.

  ‘Thanks, like, millions.’ She threw him a flirtatious glance as she stuffed her iPod and the paperback into her tote bag, picked it up and got into line to edge down the aisle. Shrugging himself into his parka, he pulled the hood up and led the way to the luggage carousel, studying Ariel as she stood beside him, chattering into her phone. Her denim jacket partially covered a white camisole top. Her long legs were encased in “skinny” jeans with sexy, high-heeled ankle boots. A line of bags came into view and he tapped her on the shoulder.

  ‘Which one’s yours?’

  She snapped her phone shut and looked at him through half-closed eyes. ‘You gunna help me with it?’ Her lips twitched.

  ‘Sure. No problem...’

  ‘That one!’ she squealed, pointing to a pink, soft-zipped bag wending its way toward them. He lunged for it and whipped it off the carousel, followed by his own plain black case. Ariel laughed up into his face, clutching his arm. ‘Hey, cool!’

  ‘How’re you getting to the city?’

  ‘Catching the train in and then a cab,’ she said, grinning. ‘You
coming?’

  ‘Sure. Let me carry these...’ He settled his backpack over his shoulders, handed her his music case and picked up the large bags. ‘Lead the way!’

  A chilly breeze swirled around the platform for the air-train. The girl dropped her backpack, dragged a denim jacket out and struggled into it, giggling as he tried to help her. He heaved their luggage into the carriage and up onto a vacant rack.

  They didn’t speak as the train raced toward the transit centre. Ariel stood close and texted her friends while he hovered, inhaling her scent, so engrossed that he even forgot to count the people in the carriage, the stations or the buildings zipping by below.

  As they left the station, the girl introduced herself as Ariel Maxwell, announced that she only lived fifteen minutes away and then kept up a steady stream of chatter as they headed for the cab rank. Hefting her case into a taxi, he confided that he needed to find somewhere to stay overnight, a pub or motel. Easier to keep her away from my unit.

  ‘That’s all right, there’s a good pub just near us. The Commercial on Grey. It’s pretty posh,’ she chirped. The jewellery in her ears flashed. ‘We’ll share a cab if you like?’ She gave her address and settled back into the corner.

  ‘How about dinner later, then? We can eat at the pub, or we could go somewhere else if you like. Perhaps to the city.’ His gaze skittered away from hers and then, almost reluctantly, back to her.

  ‘Maybe. What’s your name?’

  ‘I have a nickname.’ He told her, watching as she put her hand up to her face and giggled. ‘You’re joking! What’s your real name?’

  Warmth spread from his neck into his face. ‘You don’t want to know. A nickname’s more fun!’ It’s better I remain anonymous. Who knows where this game will end? It mightn’t be worth it anyway. ‘I’ll go on to the pub after this.’

  Ariel didn’t want to appear too eager, but she couldn’t help regarding him with keen interest and growing excitement. His lightly bronzed skin set off his handsome features. She wondered how much time he spent on the beach. His glossy, longish hair and small gold stud in one ear gave him a rakish, unreliable appearance. She wondered what it would be like to run her fingers through those silken strands. What would Deanna say, when she heard what a prize she, Ariel, had discovered – a gorgeous, tall, broad-shouldered hottie? Not the usual ‘ocker.’ No, this one was a man.