MEEK

by Richard Johnson

  PART TWO

  CHAPTER ONE

  MARCH 2022. DREAMS AND DISSAPPOINTMENTS.

  Professor Mark Crawford stood on the lecture platform watching the students take their seats. This was the start of third year Political Science so he knew all the faces from previous years. One face was new, however; she had enrolled at ANU Canberra to complete her degree from Sydney. The girl was attractive in that fresh-out–of-the-shower way that Mark liked. Her hair was straw-coloured, long and not particularly well controlled. Tall, brown eyes, no make-up. Yes, Mark liked her. A pity he was at least twenty years older than her and, on top of that, there was the ethical problem of the student/teacher relationship.

  The lecture was an introductory subject: religion in politics. A very pertinent and controversial subject in today’s world. Mark had prepared slides dividing the world into theocracies.

  “Pretend there are no secular governments. What you see on the map is the world divided into its predominant faiths or philosophies. This is simplistic because most countries have more than one religion operating, but I have broken the map up according to the dominant philosophy. This is helpful to a diplomat as it is necessary to be cognisant of cultural norms imposed by these religions. It is also important to recognize the aspirations of these religions geopolitically and the level of influence they wield at home and abroad.”

  Mark went on to outline the historical shifts of religion and current trends: the spread of Islam and Buddhism, the move towards radical right-wing Christianity in the United States, the gradual collapse and disintegration of the European Union, the failed attempt by Marxist China to integrate Islam and its subsequent decision to use aggression to eradicate it.

  “Where is Australia in all this currently? What in your opinion would make sound policy to offset the further fragmentation of our own society? We are all aware that our politicians of all persuasions have avoided publically making statements about these issues apart from ‘regrettable’, a word we are all sick of hearing.

  “Your first assignment is in two parts. Part one: an historical overview of the relationship between religion and government 1790 to 1985 in Australia. Approximately a two-thousand word essay. That’s the easy part.

  Part two, the proposition is: Australian secular society is collapsing, we are facing the demise of democracy in the next five to ten years and the division of society into theological zones or areas of influence. You are to provide a one-hour presentation addressing the proposition.”

  Mark wrapped up the lecture, noting the unhappy looks on the faces of those wearing head coverings and the smug smiles on the Bible holders as they exited. He shook his head sadly and muttered to himself:

  “This year was going to be controversial, I really don’t give a shit anymore. I’ll fail every stupid fucker that tries to push their shit in my face. Which probably means a twenty-five percent fail rate this year and the end of my short and unhappy academic career.”

  He had a faculty meeting with the four tutors and outlined the requirements of the course for the year. They could not be relied on to be supportive of his right-of-centre leanings and he had little respect for them. Then he went home. Home was a two-bedroom, two-storey townhouse with garage; another eighteen years and it would be his on the condition he towed the line. It was however the only debt he had, for which he was very grateful. His last relationship left him a credit card and a personal loan to remember her by. That was five years in the past now and the scars were fading nicely, the CDs and photos had disappeared into the local landfill and his heart had managed to stay above ground.

  Mark was supposed to go to a dinner reception for some obscure ambassador. His old contacts at his previous employment sent him an invitation to these events. They probably thought he was in need of a good feed. Still, he did like to keep up with the bullshit from the boys and girls at the Department of Foreign Affairs and Trade commonly referred to as DFAT. A long shower and shave were in order. Spot on seven thirty he arrived at the Indian Embassy, who were apparently the hosts to the event. The building had always reminded him of how easy it was to design a really big toilet block. If the architect had tried to emulate Indian culture, it had been an outstanding failure.

  “I hope it’s not curry and poppadoms,” he was thinking as he shook hands at the door with the Ambassador and in turn was introduced to the newly arrived envoy from Nepal, who was responsible for this gathering of the clans.

  “Mark! Over here mate, they have oysters!” It was Barry Bradshaw. They had started out as cadets together twenty-one years ago. Baz was a career diplomat who loved the game and rose by skill and talent to the top slowly and steadily. Besides talent he had friends and family in politics which was by no means unusual in the senior public service.

  “I’m so glad you are here, mate, it’s going to be dull, but at least the tucker is Aussie. And they have draught beer! Talk about multiculturalism!”

  “I’d rather not talk about multiculturalism, it’s a sore point but a schooner or three will do me good.”

  “That’s the spirit mate, you look a bit down.”

  Mark and Baz made their way to the drinks table.

  “What’s wrong mate?” Baz was Mark’s best friend and they knew how to read each others’ moods. Before Mark could answer, they were interrupted by a young lady who Mark immediately recognised as the new girl in class at ANU. To Mark’s surprise Barry said, “Mark, I’d like to introduce you to my PA, Tonia Spencer. Toni is in your third-year politics class and insisted I bring her along so she could meet you outside of school.”

  “A pleasure to meet you, Ms Spencer.”

  “Please call me Toni, Professor.”

  “I will, and you can call me Mark at least when not in classes.”

  “Toni has been temping for me during the holidays but now is a full time unemployed student again,” said Barry.

  “I will miss the work and most of all the money,” Toni smiled, and Mark realised he was feeling a lot happier now.

  “Make sure you get a reference off me Toni, it will be good for your resume.”

  “I will certainly do that Mr Bradshaw, and thank you for bringing me along to this reception, it’s all good experience. I am no different to all school kids who want to see their teachers out of school to see if they are real people.”

  “Some are better than others, I’m afraid. This is a low-key affair, the bloke from Nepal isn’t that important. Get into the goodies and put some in your handbag, I’m sure that’s what Mark will be doing. You will find he is very real and quite fallible.”

  “Baza has an unhealthy contempt for academics, Toni. He is the typical fat cat public servant but, yes, I admit to being human.”

  “My wife makes me do it, I swear! I wanted to be a priest. To be honest Toni, I haven’t got Mark’s Mensa IQ, I’m only fit for government,” replied Barry.

  The evening wore on. Toni was introduced around, especially to people more her own age, but she did not leave Mark’s side. Once Barry was preoccupied, Toni said, “I have an impertinent question I would like to ask, feel free to not answer.” Mark, naturally enough, gave his permission.

  “Did you compose part two of the assignment to be purposefully confrontational, and won’t it have ramifications for you?”

  “Yes and yes.”

  No more sidestepping, this girl has seen right through me, he thought.

  Toni went quiet and sipped on her beer thoughtfully. “Are you, umm, going to make allowances for, umm, the, er, individuality shall we say, of your students?”

  “No.”

  Toni sipped some more beer, there was a slight stain of lipstick on her glass, Mark caught himself staring at it, wanting to taste it.

  “Let me get this straight. If I put up a good case, based on the historical perspective you have made us research in the essay, that Islam needs to be confronted aggressively in Australia and that the United States can’t be trusted, where do I stand?”

  “Probably
without any friends among your classmates,” Mark laughed.

  Toni wasn’t laughing. “Stuff them! They don’t count, I mean with you?”

  “You will be assessed solely on the quality of your presentation without any form of bias or societal intimidation including any interference from any interest groups in or outside the university.”

  Toni was sipping again and gave a wry smile. “What’s the situation with your tenure?”

  Now they were both laughing and Mark was feeling delightfully carefree.

  “It’s due for review in six months.”

  “So we will be both looking for work?” said Toni.

  “A strong possibility, I would think.”

  Barry returned to find them on the dance floor obviously inebriated but enjoying themselves. He smiled. He didn’t think that Mark was capable of dancing and basically he was right.

  Mark and Toni left their cars at the Embassy and Barry’s driver dropped Toni off first. “I’ll be in for the reference on Friday. Is that OK?”

  “Sure, I’ll leave it at reception if I’m out.”

  Toni leant over and kissed Mark on the cheek. “See you in school tomorrow professor. Goodnight gentlepersons, thank you both for a superb evening. I have enough food in my handbag to feed the Indonesian army.”

  Mark watched her walk away.

  At the town house Mark got out and said, “Thanks Baz, I really needed that.”

  “Yes I know. Mark, there is something in the pipeline I may want to talk to you about in a few days. By the way, she is unattached with no baggage.” He drove off into the night.

  Mark woke the next morning with a slight hangover and conflicting feelings. He had no face-to-face scheduled with students or staff and could hide in his office all day. So he did. Wednesday he saw her in the library; she gave him a warm smile and a little wave, but that was all. That evening at home he forced himself to look at his reflection in a full length mirror. He saw a tall, overweight, balding man who looked decidedly world weary. “Oh Jesus, what are you bloody thinking? Do yourself a favour, grow up and forget it.”

  Thursday he had a tutorial but not with Toni’s group. In the late afternoon he had a one-hour lecture. Toni was sitting in the front row. She had a bright yellow dress on, it made Mark think of sunflowers and Van Gough. At the end of the lecture she came up to him. “Hi, I just wanted to make sure I thanked you for Monday night, I was a bit under the weather. Sorry about that.”

  “No that’s perfectly all right, I had a few too many myself. I really enjoyed it, though.”

  “Yes me too, I don’t get to go out much normally, being an impoverished student plays havoc with your social life, and the study of course.”

  “I’m sure it does, the studying I mean,” said Mark, but his mind was having a power failure. He was desperately trying to say something meaningful.

  “Yes, well then, I suppose I’d better get back to my garret and some noodles. I’ll see you soon,” Toni smiled sheepishly and walked away.

  ”Oh fuck!” said Mark semi audibly.

  That weekend was routine, but on Sunday night Mark got a call from Baz. “I need to have that chat I mentioned last week mate, it’s important. I’m spending next weekend at the beach house, I would like you to join.”

  “Who will be there?” This was Mark trying to get information that would indicate the purpose for the weekend.

  “Wife and kids naturally and another couple of people in the organisation. Oh, I have also invited Toni, she will be there.” Mark’s antenna went up. This definitely was important, people in the organisation plus the sweet enticement of Toni?

  “Sure Baz, sounds fun. So it’s Saturday around lunchtime, OK?”

  “Yes, perfect. It will be an overnighter, and could you pick up Toni please? She doesn’t know the way obviously and her car frankly is on its last legs.”

  “Yes Baz of course, anything for you. See you Saturday.”

  Now Mark was against the wall. Forget Baz and his secrets; how was the best way to handle the Toni thing? Toni was sitting in the front row again Monday morning. At the end of the lecture Mark called her over, determined to restore his self-respect.

  “Fancy a coffee?” They went to the coffee shop together and found the quietest table possible. They discussed the logistics involved in getting to Barry’s place.

  “Where on the coast is it, exactly?” asked Toni.

  “It isn’t on the coast,” replied Mark with a sly smile.

  “But he called it the beach house!”

  “Yes he does. It pays not to take Barry too literally. It’s his family’s sheep and cattle property in the mountains south of Canberra towards Omeo and now that you know that, your life is worthless.” Mark laughed. “Barry is old money. A lot of DFAT are. It would be better if you don’t mention where you are going to anyone.”

  “Why, what’s the big secret?”

  “Security, Barry has top level security clearance. He is privy to the nation’s secrets.”

  Toni looked worried. “Mark, I think there is something I should tell you, as I don’t want us to start off on the wrong foot. Barry asked a lot of questions about you. He wanted specifically to know if you looked happy in your job. I said that I thought you had ideas that were democratic to the point of being undesirable in the current political climate. That you displayed a right-wing attitude that would jeopardise your academic career.”

  “Wow, I didn’t think I was that transparent; and what was his response to that?”

  “He burst out laughing and said ‘excellent’.”

  “I’m sure he did. So, Toni, you have been spying on me?”

  “Oh, it was really not meant that way but I feel Barry may have been using me to set you up for something. I really like you Mark, I don’t want to give you the wrong impression of me.”

  “Barry is a manipulative bastard but a great bloke and good at his job. Don’t worry, but you do need some background info on me to understand what’s going on. Let’s have dinner tonight?”

  “Oh! Lovely. Will I need my best frock?” Toni’s face had lit up

  “Decidedly!”

  Mark picked her up at her studio apartment which she was renting furnished. Toni was wearing the classic little black number with stockings and accessories also in black. Her only jewellery was large gold earrings and bracelet. She was stunning and he was feeling old and dowdy in his ill-fitting two-piece suit as they sat down in an up market but very quiet restaurant carefully selected. After a preliminary drink and ordering of food, Mark took the bull by the horns.

  “I used to work with Barry, we rose through the ranks together. I was in a relationship for seven years that ran out of steam after less than two, but I hung on in there hoping for a miracle. One day I woke up to the fact that she was into my bank account far too deeply. We had words, we broke up. She moved out. The next day she ran up 47, 000 on my credit card and emptied my bank account. I never saw her again. I decided that I was either a bad judge of character or emotionally needy, either way it was time to have a sea change. I quit my job at DFAT and accepted a three-year contract at ANU. This is my final year. It hasn’t worked out for me but I’m not ready to go back to DFAT which is what this weekend is going to be about, I’m sure.”

  “I think you may be right on the money there, Mark. DFAT has designs on you. No family or lady in Canberra?”

  “My father is still alive, lives in North Queensland. I’m an only child. I haven’t finished paying off my last relationship yet. Once that’s accomplished I’ll save up for the next disaster, I suppose. What’s your story, Toni?”

  “Grew up in Sydney. Normal family, Father a bank manager. All very normal really, ended up at Sydney Uni. Fell in love, he dropped me, I worked out I was transitional, he was on his way to something else. I never worked out what exactly. I decided I needed to start afresh. I arrived in Canberra four months ago and signed up at ANU. I got a temp job with Barry using my computer skills mainly, plus my study area
of course. I ended up doing forty hours a week for him until his regular came back off leave. The pay was excellent so I’m set for the rest of the year, now.” They reached the stage where the first bottle of wine was gone and the next would mean a taxi home and a hangover so, reluctantly, they chose coffee. “That’s the trouble with dining out during the week, you have to stay in control,” said Mark.

  “Yes it’s a pity, especially when you don’t want to back off, but let’s make sure we find time to get out of control this weekend,” replied Toni.

  “That sounds a good plan.”

  Mark drove her home, refused the goodnight coffee as he felt he should quit while ahead, but accepted the long kiss goodnight gratefully. They met for lunch each day that week except Thursday, which was Toni’s tutorial free day. By Saturday morning, Mark was ready at sunrise feeling like a kid going on vacation for the first time. He was falling in love and had the, ‘I’m forty-six exactly twice your age’ speech ready. Mark got a chance to use the speech one hour into the drive. It soured the mood badly.

  “So, you are saying I’m too young and you are not interested is that it?” Toni was not looking happy.

  “No, I’m saying I’m fat, balding and in my forties and you are beautiful , intelligent and, well, quite amazing.”

  “So you are interested!”

  “Oh hell, of course I am Toni, I’m being sensible OK? I’m supposed to do this, it’s called being mature and responsible.”

  “You better pull over then because I think I need to do something drastically immature at this point.”

  Mark did as he was told and when they came up for air she had his heart in her handbag and he knew he would never ask for it back.

  The Bradshaw estate was impressive and very hard to locate. A huge mountain ash with a red and white reflector nailed to it marked the entrance. One hundred metres off the main road they reached a high wrought-iron gate and gatehouse. Mark got out and identified himself to the CTV. The gate slid open and they proceeded up a one-kilometre driveway with Herefords grazing either side. The house was a sandstone colonial style with the classic very wide verandah.