‘I will Deb. I promise.’
‘She’s really got ya’, hasn’t she?’
‘All I can say is, I hope so. It’s the first time I’ve ever, well, you know……’
‘Hey, watch it! Don’t burn my bacon big guy!’
‘Ooops. I wasn’t paying attention was I?’
‘And I like my eggs over easy.’
‘Yes m’am!’ Hal said as he went back to concentrating on his cooking and immediately dropped his egg slice on the floor.
‘Hal?’
‘Yes?’
‘Narelle’s a bit older than ya’, ya’ know.’
‘Yes, I know. Five years.’
‘Does it worry ya’?’
‘I hadn’t even thought about it, so obviously not. Should I be? Did Narelle say something?’
‘No. Well, not really. I mean….’
‘You want your eggs over easy or scrambled?’
‘Ok Hal, ok. No, it’s just that I know it can be an issue for some people ya’ know.’
‘So what’re you telling me Deb?’
‘Oh nothin’ Hal. Just us dopey chicks need plenty of reassurance sometimes. Ya’ know what I mean?’
‘I hardly think you or Narelle fall into the dopey category. Now, are you hungry?’
‘You bet Hal.’
‘Deb?’
‘Yes?’
‘Thanks.’
*****
After six months, Hal was spending his life on a fifty-fifty basis between Narelle’s flat and the house. Surfing, or at least still trying to, making new friends, enjoying the tropical climate and getting very accustomed to XXXX beer. He loved the Queensland lifestyle, the people and especially the backyard barbecues. While his allowance could keep in shared flats or similar cheapish accommodation, he decided he would have to work to make enough money to be able to afford a place with its own backyard and barbecue. He started to dream of a house with a back yard, a barbecue and of course to share it with Narelle. Life was good. But he had an idea that it could even be a whole lot better. He believed that his hair was starting to lighten a little too.
‘I’ve got a job interview in the morning Narelle.’
‘That’s great news Hal. What’s it for?’
‘Security patrol.’
‘Has that been your dream job since you were a kid?’ Narelle laughed.
‘Of course not. But I like the idea of a uniform.’
‘Oh you’re a scream Hal. Do you get a gun too?’
‘Don’t know yet. But I thought the hours might give me time to be with you. Oh and for surfing of course, and…’
‘And what?’
‘I want to live in a house with a back yard and a barbecue, and…’
‘And Hal?’
‘You.’
There was no answer needed as Narelle cuddled up to Hal on the sofa. Her man. She simply melded with him and sighed a sigh of contentment. Hal wrapped his big arms around her and kissed the top of her head.
‘Suki da Narelle.’
‘Suki yo Hal.’
They both thought ‘I love you’ in Japanese sounded much sweeter.
Pressing Matters
‘Gentlemen, I am sure you are all aware of the success that has been achieved. We must now press forward and maximise the full potential of the events in New York in September and sow the seeds for a more profitable and stable environment for the future.’
The President of the Camera Stellata opened their bi-annual meeting during December 2001, deep below the Vatican and Rome. In a chamber not so far away, the Dodecahedron flashed a royal bluish blue just briefly, indicating that Gloth and in particular, the Supreme Potentate of the Twelve Sun Systems of Gloth was there in spirit at least. Perhaps listening in would be a better way to put it.
William Minor-Morris, Archduke of Chester and President of the meeting, was a direct descendent of one of the founding members of the Camera Stellata and was one of twenty members who traced their ancestry back to the original members of 1641. The five other members traced theirs back to different times and places. These being the five additional places made available by the first resolution of the Camera Stellata after the demise of the Star Chamber. It took over two hundred years to fill all five vacancies as the utmost care was taken with selection and confirmation of candidates. A potential candidature sometimes spanning generations before finally being appointed, such was the secrecy, diligence and caution taken by the Camera Stellata. The last seat was filled in 1862 by an American. He joined the other four appointed members. One each from France, Russia, Germany and Egypt.
Although all vacancies over the years had been filled by direct heirs upon the death of a member, there had been relatively few misadventures or breaches in secrecy. Being from ruling families, there was rarely any doubt as to the competence of new members. However there was the occasional hiccough. The first occurred in 1738 when the grandson of Lord Emberly was found to be completely insane. Although the rightful heir, the fact that he was in chains in lunatic asylum in London’s far west and had not said a word in twenty-four years other than occasional grunts for food when he was hungry, seemed likely to void him of his rights to join. Due care was taken however and an emissary was sent to the asylum to verify that Gordon Emberly was unfit to take his father’s place. There were rightly very few excuses accepted when it became your duty to join the Camera Stellata.
The emissary, himself a member of course, reported to the next meeting that in his considered opinion, Gordon Emberly was not fit to assume his duty. He raised his left hand as proof of the fact that during his interview, Emberly had bitten off two of the emissary’s fingers. The vacancy was then filled by Gordon’s sane younger brother. The issue of insane heirs did arise once or twice more, but luckily without the loss of any more members’ fingers.
In 1810 there was a very controversial appointment. Upon the passing of Lord Dumbpherry, it was noticed that he had indeed only eight daughters and no sons. In previous cases where daughters were involved, it was simply a matter of skipping them until the oldest son became the heir. And even in the cases of one or two miscreant members who failed to produce a son and heir, there was always a suitable male cousin available. However in Lord Dumbpherry’s case, there were no male cousins of his children. He had no younger brother, nor did he really have a lot of family to speak of. In fact he was an only child himself who lived a Spartan life in his run down castle in the far north of England. After tossing the problem about over four bi-annual meetings and one extraordinary meeting to discuss continuing concerns about a gentleman called Napoleon, his eldest daughter Mary was finally accepted as the first female member of the Camera Stellata.
Although all new appointees bar none were initially shocked, flabbergasted, horrified or just plain scared out of their wits when they discovered their obligations to the Camera Stellata, most got the hang of it sooner or later. There were some however, that for one reason or another felt they could not or would not accept their responsibility. For these souls, a new life awaited them. Only the few very senior members knew what it meant to issue a T2 order upon a recalcitrant newcomer. Terranova Two was not a place or indeed for that matter a planet that anyone on Erde had heard of. But then again it wouldn’t be until 1930 that Erdeans noticed Pluto, and as Terranova Two was a long way and a few planets past that, they would probably never know about it anyway. But it would be there, probably close to TerraTunTun, the only real settlement on the entire planet other than mines and mining camps, that these unfortunate creatures would spend their days. As very few of the very few inhabitants on TerraTunTun ever ended up dying for some mysterious and unknown reason, they would probably be long days indeed. At least they had the food to look forward to. Turdling Hurdles were renown for being a very yummy breakfast. Well, in and around TerraTunTun anyway.
William Minor-Morris continued his opening address.
‘We can now move forward with our plans to stabilise and reap the rewards from this troublesome reg
ion that has been a thorn in our sides for some years now. Once the areas are cleared of the resistance to economic reform and political stability, oil will once again flow profitably for us. Are there any questions?’
‘If I could Mr President, I would like to raise my concern with the reliability of this Bush gentleman in charge of these operations?’ the Duché de Coigny and only French member of the Camera Stellata asked.
‘Yes. I can understand your concern,’ Minor-Morris replied. ‘When we staged the US election in 2000, we knew of the very limited capabilities of both of the candidates we promoted for the election. This was intentional, as we discovered through our previous hard learned experiences that it was better to have the real drivers of our agenda within the mechanisms of the State. As long as the masses have someone they feel is like them, they can choose whoever they like. From our nominated choices of course. No matter who they elect, they will not have any influence at all over the underlying policies already in place.’
‘So have operations begun in Iraq?’ The Baron of Effington enquired of the President.
‘I will ask Sir Bradley to respond to your question.’
‘Thank you sir, Bradley said as he rose. ‘Yes, an invasion is already well and truly underway of the oil rich areas. An announcement that a war has commenced will be made by the US President once all strategic objectives have been secured. Probably in a month or two. It is worth reporting that we have already secured over half of our strategic objectives. So it is progressing very well. As usual, we will leave all the propaganda delivery et cetera to our elected mouthpieces,’ Bradley said and sat down indicating he had finished his report. Minor-Morris rose to his feet. ‘Any further questions?’ was met with shaking heads. ‘Very well. The next item on our agenda is the French election next year.’
Baron Spencer Hoop then made his submission regarding the two candidates, and was assisted by the Duché de Coigny in responding to the few questions from the other Camera Stellata members. However there was little general interest in the subject, and a resolution was passed quickly and unanimously to certify Chirac the winner. The meeting quickly moved through its agenda, and ended an hour ahead of schedule. This suited William Minor-Morris, as he was travelling to Gloth the following morning for a briefing with members of the Grand Council of Gloth accompanied by Sir Bradley Sidebottom, his deputy. He appreciated the extra time to prepare his written report for the Supreme Potentate.
Beautiful One Day, Perfect The Next
Any day is a great day for a backyard barbecue in Brisbane as the tropical climate is famous for being so wonderful that it is described by Queenslanders as being beautiful, if not perfect. Except when tropical thunderstorms burst into the city, drowning all and sundry, as ferocious rumbling thunder along with lightening bolts that crackle and spark their way to ground send everyone scurrying for cover − usually under the house.
A Queenslander is not only someone who lives in Queensland, it is also the name given to the houses that are built in the Queensland architectural tradition. Normally wooden planked houses, elevated on stumps to give an under floor area that serves to protect against flood, and also to allow fresh breezes to cool the house during the hot summer months. It is also a great place to park your car or move your barbecue when a storm suddenly rains down on your steak and sausages.
‘Quick Hal! Grab the salads,’ Narelle yelled as she grabbed bread rolls, meat and a bottle of tomato ketchup and ran under the house − Hal following with three bowls of salad. Two bowls arriving safely but one unfortunately slipped from his hands en route and made a crash landing on the grass near the clothes line.
‘We’ll get the barbecue,’ Darrell shouted above a loud thunderclap as he and Debbie started rolling the gas barbecue towards the protection of the house. One or two sausages leapt suicidally as the wheels of the barbecue bounced on the rough brick path. One meeting its maker as it landed in a sandy grave. The second one was luckier as Darrell made a one handed grab for it as it rose slightly before heading for the lawn.
‘Shit that was hot,’ he mumbled as he threw the fortunate sausage back onto the hot plate.
‘My hero,’ Debbie laughed as they finally arrived under cover.
Hal made another trip for the Esky full of beer and ice, as Debbie and Narelle went to salvage the table with a now very damp paper tablecloth and paper napkins. Darrel doing his bit by grabbing the fold up plastic garden chairs.
‘Nice start to our first barbecue,’ Hal grumbled as they set about resurrecting the now under-house house warming barbecue.
‘Oh don’t worry Hal, it’ll blow over soon enough. Here have a XXXX mate!’ Debbie said as she threw Hal a cold beer. ‘Now you’d better get back t’ looking after those sausages.’
‘C’mon Big Fella! I wanna see ya’ cook,’ Narelle said with a big smile and gave Hal a peck on the cheek and then went back to some much needed repair work on her salads. She gave up all hope for the green salad strewn across the grass near the clothes line.
With the repairs completed, Hal went back to his newfound passion for cooking meat and sausages on his new prized double-decker gas barbecue, then the four finally sat down to enjoy Hal’s first back yard barbie − as a barbecue is called in Brissie. Of course this was the exact same moment when the storm decided it’d had enough fun, and disappeared as quickly as it had arrived. Leaving in its wake a beautifully perfect Brisbane evening to enjoy.
‘Maybe I should have my barbecues a little later in the evening,’ Hal commented as they dug into the food.
‘Ya’ live and learn Hal,’ Darrell smiled and then took a long swig of his beer.
Hal’s thoughts went back to London and the grey dampness that was ever present there. He tried not to think about his family, although he did have passing moments when he would think about his mother and sister. Time and life had moved on for Hal now as he had found love, a home and a small but trusted group of friends. Debbie and Darrel in particular had become Narelle and Hal’s closest friends and replaced a sense of family for Hal. His job was not overly exciting, but it allowed him to supplement his allowance and live comfortably. Although he would have loved to buy a house so he could have a feeling of permanence, he was content with renting. Narelle had become the love of his life, and he could not imagine a day without her. The only small dark spot on his horizon was the day his allowance would stop. It was still a way off yet, so he had time to think about what he might do then. In the meantime, he saved a little money when he could and tried to build a small foundation for the rest of his life with Narelle.
He also knew that at sometime, marriage and a family would be his next big stage of life and was in fact looking forward to it. So many things to look forward to in his new life in a beautifully perfect paradise.
‘Penny for your thoughts?’ Narelle asked as she cuddled with Hal on the sofa after saying goodnight to Debbie and Darrell and tidying up after their house warming barbecue.
‘I was just thinking how lucky I am to have you Narelle.’
‘Suki yo.’
‘Suki da.’
‘But I think I’m the lucky one Hal.’
Paradise Lost
‘What?’
‘I’m sorry, we have very few details as yet, but all we know is that four armed men arrived at the Breakfast Creek Hotel just after closing time and made off with the days takings, and two hostages,’ the police woman at Hal’s front door explained.
‘I don’t know……’
‘Yes, I know this must be a shock for you Mr Hoop. Would you like me to call someone for you?’
‘Um, I…. I really don’t understand, I….’
‘Can I come in Mr Hoop? Perhaps I can make you a cup of tea, and I call someone to keep you company.’
‘Eh, um, well, yes. Thank you officer.’
Within fifteen minutes, Debbie and Darrell arrived to be with Hal. They were in a state of shock themselves at the news and had come as soon as the police officer had called. Debbie doi
ng her best to comfort Hal with a hug, and Darrell trying to be useful by making more tea.
‘If you need anything, here’s my card,’ the officer said as she handed it to Debbie. ‘As soon as I have any information, I’ll be in touch straight away.’
‘Is there anything we can do?’ Debbie asked.
‘I think the best would be to keep Mr Hoop company for tonight, and let’s see what news we have in the morning.’
‘Yes, thank you officer,’ Debbie said quietly and politely.
Tears were welling in Hal’s eyes as he tried hard to fight them back.
‘It’s ok Hal. We’re here,’ Debbie said trying to comfort Hal as Darrell showed the police officer to the door. Once she had left, all he could do was turn and lean against the door and look at Hal and Debbie. The sadness and fear filling the lounge room and hanging over them like a portent of doom.
It had been three days since the armed robbery, and still no trace of Narelle. The police were following every lead possible and the media were in a frenzy at such a shocking crime happening in Brisbane. Debbie and Darrell took it in turns to be with Hal, who had by now been treated by a doctor and was taking mild sedatives to calm his shock. When there is no news, somehow it is worse than receiving very bad news. A few possible sightings had been reported to the police, ranging from Brisbane to Adelaide, but none leading to anything significant. As the days became weeks, the newspapers and television took less and less interest, and it was left to Hal, his close friends and Narelle’s family as well as the police to keep the search for Narelle alive. Six weeks after the robbery, a white van was found abandoned near the Cooloola National Park some one hundred and fifty kilometres north of Brisbane that was confirmed to have been used in the robbery at the Breakfast Creek Hotel. There were DNA traces of Narelle found in the vehicle.
Despite an extensive search of the area, no other leads were found until a naturalist on a botanical survey stumbled on a shallow grave some months later, about two kilometres from where the van was found. A post mortem confirmed that it was the body of the night manager of the Breakfast Creek Hotel, who had been taken hostage with Narelle. He had been shot in the back of the head at point blank range. The worst fears for Narelle were now realised. Another extensive search by the police of an area of ten square kilometres surrounding the sites of the car and grave still gave no clue as to Narelle’s fate. After a year had passed, the robbery and murder file became an unsolved crime.
The Adventures of HAL: The Second Hilarious Glothic Tale (The Glothic Tales Book 2) Page 5