Garrett & Sunny: Sometimes Love is Funny

by Peter Butler

  Looking back over my head I see Megan standing at the top of the stairs, with her hands on her hips, laughing and shaking her head.

  'Who needs a German Shepherd when we have these two little guard dogs?' She chuckles.

  One at a time I lift the girls off me and sit up, but they won't be put off that easily and grab at my arms, until Megan says, in a slightly more serious tone of voice, 'That's enough girls. Uncle Gary has been subdued, you can go back to playing now. Well done.'

  Reluctantly, but still giggling, they disentangle themselves from me and run off towards the side garden. Clearly the best area to hide bikes in. There is nothing quite like local knowledge to give you the edge.

  Reaching the top of the stairs I give Megan a kiss and a hug. She says to me with a pained look, 'Do you have a jacket, Gary?'

  'No. I thought the shirt would be enough.'

  'Pity. You have a grass stain on your shoulder. Wonder where that came from?'

  I looked over my shoulder and saw the top edge of what she was referring to. 'Oops! That's going to look really inappropriate amongst the overly neat and expensive senior executive level of the Shawston Towers legal offices. Oh well, tough shit, I don't have time to change.'

  'I'd offer you one of Tim's shirts but we both know they would be too small,' she smiled at her empty gesture.

  The reference to Tim made me realize that my silent prayer could not possibly be answered. The fact that the girls were at home meant that Tim would need to be there to look after them when Megan left with me.

  I looked around half expecting him to be standing in the doorway and was pleasantly surprised when I didn't see him. Tim and I don't hate each other; we just don't love each other. I struggle to deal with his constant bragging and annoying self-promotion. Strangely, the others in the family seem to accept it, even admire it, which pisses me off even more. The guy is an underachiever and a capital J jerk, no other word for it.

  Tim is in middle management at a nameless toy importer. They bring in the Chinese plastic rubbish that you find in almost every store with a toy department, and definitely in every home with a child. Needless to say, Chelsea and Livvy have a pile of toys that they could get lost in. I don't approve of this concept of more than enough, is not enough, and have to bite my tongue on the subject. And it makes it damn near impossible to buy the girls a special gift at Christmas and birthdays. To Megan's credit she manages to keep both girls pretty well grounded.

  The girls have managed to retrieve their bikes from the garden and are riding in circles on the grass, laughing and just being kids, so Megan and I head inside for her to grab her bag and say good-bye to Tim.

  'How you doin, Gary?' He greets me just inside the door with a handshake, his other hand holds what appears to be some sort of toy helicopter.

  'Fine thanks, Tim.'

  I can't bring myself to inquire about his health, the fact that he's well enough to be standing there is disappointing enough, and the conversation takes on an awkward moment.

  Megan stepped in to fill the void. 'I'm going to be a little longer than I said originally, Tim. Gran called me earlier and asked if I would come and see her after the meeting with Gerald. Gary is going too. So if you can get the girl's dinner ready that would be a big help.'

  This was news to me also, as Gran hadn't mentioned Megan when she invited me. Intriguing.

  I glanced at Tim and saw that he was not happy with this news. He was almost glaring at Megan and I instantly understood why she had waited until this moment to drop the news on him. He had always resented that her family had a connection to big money, when he himself had come from the poor side of town. Not that the calculating side of Tim couldn't see the eventual payday down the road, so I guessed he also bit his tongue a lot. We had something in common after-all. You've just got to love the dynamics and politics within an extended family.

  Tim brought his feelings under control, grunted acknowledgment and decided to change the subject. He said to me, 'I want to show you our new range of remote control helicopters, Gary. I have a few at home to test and they're brilliant.' He held the one in his hand up, for me to admire. 'The top of the range are called Quadcopters and even have cameras, they use four, really quiet rotors and are able to hover for ages. I’ve been playing with them all afternoon.' He grinned and winked at me in a conspiratorial manner, then added, 'The blond over the back should get herself a bikini' then he chuckled. 'Well, on second thoughts, maybe not.'

  Megan gave him a tight, forced smile, and said, 'Next time, Tim.'

  'Yep, maybe next time, Tim,' I echoed. 'We need to go if we are going to make the appointment on time.'

  We headed out the front door after Megan gave Tim a less-than-warm peck on the cheek and some instructions that included keeping an eye on his girls, and not helping the woman over the back look for her bikini. We got as far as the front lawn and then another, much longer farewell took place, accompanied with lots of kisses and squeals.

  The drive in to the city normally takes about fifteen minutes and today the traffic is being kind to us. It's only a short time before Megan is onto me. 'So, tell me about your new girl. Have you found out her name? What was the problem last night? Why couldn't you remember much about it?'

  I cut in to her never ending list of questions. 'Her name is Sunny and we are supposed to be seeing each other again tonight. At least I think we are, she hung-up before we could settle any details.'

  Out of the corner of my eye I can see Megs rolling her eyes and shaking her head slowly from side to side. I know when it's said out loud it sounds weird, maybe even stupid, but there is something free spirited and different about Sunny that I find absolutely wonderful. Her hanging up on me before any crucial details are finalized is more of a challenge to me, than rudeness. I get her - I think. Or, maybe she really is psycho.

  'When I woke up this morning I had a total blank in my brain about last night. I mean completely blank. In fact I still have it. Sunny has told me a little of what happened, but even when she talks about it, I can't recall any of it.'

  'Is there any chance you were drugged?'

  'You did hear me say I couldn't remember anything?' I shrugged my shoulders and gave her a smug, tight grin. 'I don't know. She said we were drinking all sorts of things, so maybe I had some sort of alcohol poisoning. The good news is that Truf was with us, so I'll be able to get a better picture of the night when I talk to him.'

  'Truffle!' The way she said his name made me turn and look at her. She had a strange look on her face that didn't make any sense to me.

  She noticed me looking at her, and said in a serious voice, 'How is Truf? I haven't seen him in a long while.'

  The way she said a long while, made me look across at her again, and I think she blushed.

  Weird.

  We were on the edge of the city, stopped at a set of lights, casually observing the different types of people as they made their way across the pedestrian crossing when Megs gestured, excitedly, towards a rather plump girl with hair that was badly dyed and seemingly cut with garden pruning shears. She was wearing a miniskirt that was both too short and too tight, causing her midriff to dangle over the front of it. 'There she is Gary! From what you've told me that's got to be Sunny crossing in front of us.'

  I gave her a dirty look, which she laughed at, then became more serious, 'She sounds really interesting, Gary. I know you have high standards - that's been your problem all along. You look for perfection when it just doesn’t exist. It's all about being prepared to compromise.' She smiled at me. 'You're just going to have to accept that Sunny comes with her own psychiatrist.'

  I reluctantly conceded she could have a point.

  I have been to the Shawston Legal offices on Lower Thames Street on a few occasions and I buzzed the receptionist to admit us to the underground visitor car park. The ride up to the twenty-fourth floor takes only seconds and the view of the cityscape behind the reception desk that unfolds as the lift doors open, is breathtaking. I
tried to imagine how I could ever explain to my investors why I needed such an expensive location to conduct my business. Clearly, Gerald was at the top of his game. But seriously, as a client you have to know that you are paying for all this.

  Thank God, I'm not one of Gerald’s paying customers.

  As you enter the reception area you are swallowed in soft ambient lighting and surrounded by rich, dark stained wood-panel walls on which hang wonderful works of art. Was that a Monet to my right? Surely not. But a print or reproduction in this environment would look as appropriate as a ham sandwich at a Jewish wedding. The impeccably dressed receptionist welcomed us with a big smile. I noticed her glance at my grass stain before suggesting we each take a seat in one of the thickly padded, expensive looking leather armchairs. She motioned me into the one in the corner, which ironically hid my grass stain from any other reception visitors. She's good, this girl.

  Presently, Gerald came out and welcomed us both, warmly. As he led us back to his office he asked, 'Would you like a coffee or tea, maybe a cold drink? We will need about half an hour to get through what we need to do.'

  We both decided on coffee, and Gerald relayed our order over his shoulder. 'Two coffees, Terri - when you have a chance.'

  The slick, almost rehearsed exchange made me feel like we were entering an expensive restaurant. 'Madam and Sir will be sitting at table nine, Terri.'

  Gerald's office was impressive, his view was even better than the one at reception, taking in the whole length of the Bridge, and from our lofty height the cars crossing it look like toys. In the distance a jet left a contrail as it flew off to distant places, seemingly still at a lower altitude than us.

  Our luck was in; Terri must have had a chance, because our coffees appeared, elegantly transported on a beautiful silver tray, almost before Gerald had time to offer us a seat in one of his dark-green leather-bound chairs.

  'It's wonderful to see you both, again. You look lovely, Megan.' He made no mention of how lovely I looked, so I assumed the grass stain was not a good match with my chosen shirt - or his office, maybe my grassy-green clashed with his leathery-green. 'I'm sorry that I was not prepared to give you any information about this meeting at Ed's funeral, but that was hardly the time or place to discuss matters like this. I guess you assumed it was to do with Ed's death. I am his estate's executor and your grandmother's legal representative.' He shook his head sadly as he mentioned Ed.

  I sat back and took a sip of my coffee. It was exceptional. Terri was, without question, a gifted barista. I smiled to myself at the sounds of words and their meanings. A barrister with his own barista.

  Gerald continued, 'You have most likely guessed that Ed's share portfolio passed to your grandmother. She doesn't have the energy to manage all her affairs anymore and has given me Power of Attorney over that part of the estate. She still makes the final decisions, but I look after the day-to-day details for her. I'm not letting anything out of the bag by telling you she intends leaving both of you a major share of that portfolio in her will.' He looked at both Megan and me and nodded, knowingly. We both grinned like kids on Christmas morning. Then he continued. 'Ed's will has singled out one particular share in his portfolio, a mining exploration company called Plutarch Resources to pass immediately to the both of you. The company is based in Australia and Ed has owned these shares for a couple of years, I should add that Liz also owns an equal number of shares in that company in her own name. They apparently had sentimental value to Liz as she was the one who insisted on acquiring them. They are certainly not a stock I would have recommended. You might well know more about them than I do, Gary.'

  I shrugged my shoulders and shook my head as he looked at me questioningly. I had never heard of the company.

  'I had a quick look into Plutarch's details and found that they are a junior explorer with some exploration leases in Australia, mainly in the middle of Queensland, out past Roma and near Culgawinya. I did some quick research a few days ago and it seems the company has been looking for Coal Seam Gas. I don't know if they have been successful.'

  He allowed us a moment to consider what he had said. When I first got into share trading speculative mining shares were my bread and butter trades. They are cheap to buy and if you get it right, capable of doubling, even tripling in a very short time. Get it wrong and the opposite can happen. Spec shares are not an area that my hedge fund deals in. We are into Blue Chips - solid companies that have a good cash flow and a long track record of profitable trading. So why the hell were my grandparents interested in this company? It made little sense. But still, it was their money and a few dollars invested in something a bit risky might have been their idea of buying a lottery ticket.

  Gerald continued, 'Ed's will provides to each of you, five million shares in Plutarch Resources.'

  'What the..!' Megs exclaimed, before she caught herself and stopped. Gerald's palatial office seemed an inappropriate place to drop an F-bomb.

  My mouth was wide open, also. I was furiously trying to imagine how much those shares might be trading at. Gerald had a smile on his face at Megan's gaff, which I interpreted as meaning that the F word did get dropped inside these hallowed expensive wood panel walls.

  Before we had a chance to comment, Gerald continued. 'When they made the purchase Ed was required to get permission from the Australian Stock Exchange before they could legally take possession of the shares. Their holding breached certain Takeover Laws. For that reason I have advised Liz to retain ownership of her shares for a little longer. As you are all related parties we will most likely need to re-visit this issue with the Stock Exchange, but hopefully I can convince them that no breaches have occurred by the shares passing from Ed's ownership to that of his grandchildren.'

  Gerald looked at Megs and noted the look on her face. He added, 'It's not quite as much as you might think, Megan, although it is still significant. The shares are currently trading at ten cents each.'

  A half a million Aussie dollars... each. Giddy up Ed!

  I was trying to look cool and collected, but my mind was racing. I looked across at Megs and saw that she was also doing mental arithmetic at a furious rate.

  'You each possess just under five percent of the available shareholding of Plutarch Resources. The shares have never paid a dividend and the share price has been as high as twenty two cents. Sadly that was the price that Ed and Liz had been buying at. But over the past year the price has been steadily dropping. So there seems to be a considerable amount of selling pressure in the market. Because of the distance involved Ed never bothered to try and get himself elected to the Board of Directors, even though his shareholding would most likely have made that possible. I can offer no reason why Liz wanted him to buy these shares. She would not discuss it with me; said it was personal.' He raised his hands in a gesture of helplessness.

  He paused and gave us both a moment to gather our thoughts.

  I did some quick maths, 'From what Gerald has told us there must be about one hundred million Plutarch shares on issue.'

  This Megs fully understood. 'Thank you, Gramps,' she acknowledged with a large, beaming smile.

  I continued, 'But these small explorers are notorious for just stringing their shareholders along in the hope of eventually making a big discovery. Very few do, but they keep asking their shareholders for money by making what are called Rights Issues.'

  'Oh! So it's not all wonderful?' Megan asked.

  'If the company genuinely has discovered something of value that they can mine then it's usually good,' Gerald answered her question. 'But, sometimes the Directors and Management just give themselves a nice bonus with the money they raise.'

  'Yes,' I agreed, 'the joys of dealing with the so-called "Penny-Dreadfuls"'

  'I did some checking before you arrived here today, so you'd have some information to think about,' Gerald added. 'Ed and Liz's combined holding is the largest with 19.9% of the stock. Next comes a company called MienOne with 10.8%. It's Chinese held and operated by
someone called Ling Mien. I checked the name out and he is the son of one of the many new Chinese billionaires. A fellow called Ong Mien.' Gerald gave us a look I couldn't quite work out. Did he think that was a problem? I needed to do my own research on this. He continued with his rundown. 'A couple of hedge funds in the States each have 5% holdings, and a family Trust in Australia has 4.5% of Plutarch Resources. The rest are small holdings, mainly Australian.'

  I could see poor Megs was totally overwhelmed with all this news, so I suggested, 'I can go over the details with Megan later, if you'd prefer Gerald? I think we should get as much information as we can. I'll get Sky to do an in-depth analysis of the company.'

  He nodded in agreement. 'We need to advise the Australian Stock Exchange of the share transfer, but because of Probate and so-on I'll be able to delay that for a little while. You never know, it might turn out useful to fly under the radar for as long as possible,' Gerald gave me a conspiratorial smile, which made me wonder if he was holding more information than he was telling us. 'You won't be in possession of the shares for some time, but you will have the authority to make legally binding decisions about the shareholding, just as soon as you sign these forms I have drawn up.' He handed each of us some documents, the pages held together with bulldog clips, which we read.

  We both finished reading at the same moment and nodded to Gerald, who picked up the phone and asked Terri to come in and witness our signing.

  We left the building in silence, both of us contemplating the abrupt change in our circumstances. Megan had never been all that interested in money, but I suspected Tim would be overjoyed at this development.

  The traffic was chaotic now. Because I work from home I had almost forgotten just how big a bitch driving at peak-hour is.

  After we left the inner-city area and I was able to concentrate on something other than the traffic, I said, 'I'm a little freaked out going to the house again after Gramps' death.'