CHAPTER 83
The settling-in period went far too quickly, as did our boy’s enrolment in the International School. That second part was actually eased by my wife’s presentation of some old photos of the place, because it had actually been her former father-in-law’s school in the ‘East of Suez’ days.

I had to force myself away from worry, because the school were offering a minibus service for pupils, recognising how those needing an ‘international’ school were rather likely to be ‘international’ in their own right, and possibly rather busy. So we made his packed lunch each evening, left it with a cold drink in the fridge for him, and one of us walked him down to that familiar bus stop, as Maz and I worked swap shifts until we were sure he could handle coming home to an empty house.

He was a Big Boy, but always our baby.

“Dad?”

“Yes, son?”

“The school doesn’t do footy!”

Oh dear.

“That’s because we’re not in Australia anymore. Footy’s just an Aussie thing. What have they said?”

“I can do cricket, soccer or rugger. That’s what they called it. Or running”

“Just running?”

“Or throwing things. Spears or balls or plates”

The dilemmas of youth. In the end, he settled into playing lock, but turned into quite a useful fast bowler, along with his academic studies. I had, of course, warned him about being too obviously far ahead in his literacy, but the little sod added French to that mixture, and I was lost.

Our first business meeting was in a building near a place called The Padang, which Maz explained simply meant ‘The Field’. There was some sort of wonk from the FCO along, probably as some sort of minder to ensure we played nicely, and the atmosphere was very different compared with how we were used to operating in Perth. For starters, men, and they were mostly men, were wearing ties, while Maz was in her full-on Business Lady rig, complete with heels. She had insisted I wear a tie for the event, but I did manage to avoid having her knot and adjust it until we were only a hundred yards or so from the building’s main door.

There was a clear pecking order in the room, and we were certainly nowhere near the top of it. They even had a formal agenda, and the refreshment choice was between water, sparkling, and water, still. The wonk had a Powerpoint slide pack, oh dear me.

Introductions were formal, and the names were ‘Mister’ rather than ‘Mike’. I just knew that Rod or Des would have walked out.

Our wonk, who was based in Sydney, started his presentation, and it clearly was ‘his’, as he seemed to be implying that the whole system had been set up in new South Wales. I let him strut his stuff, before the obvious Top Pecker, confusingly called Mr Lee, turned to me and asked me how we had actually set things going.

“We have had approaches from both missions, Mr Rhodes, and I am now confused. Is this an Australian initiative or one from the United Kingdom?”

Tightrope dancing over a crocodile pit…

“It is a complicated story, in a way. Our parent company is based in the UK, and our Perth operation was set up as a trial. The original focus of that UK operation was in business solutions with a strong green agenda, and that was how we began in Western Australia, originally in facilitating the production of biofuels—waste cooking oil into diesel, in short. That expanded rapidly into business solutions and networking. Maryam?”

She took over as smoothly as ever.

“That networking has been the key, gentlemen, lady. As an example, we were working with a water sports company and, separately, a specialist vehicle builder and retailer. They then put us in contact with a whale-watching company, who passed the word to a local ferry business, and then word reached the State government in WA—er, Western Australia. We established another branch in Sydney, where our largest project was grafted from WA. I believe it is that project in which you have an interest”

Lee nodded, then pressed an intercom button.

“Please ask our guest to join us”

The door opened, and in trotted Bobby Nguyen, grinning as widely as I had ever seen him do.

“Mike, Maz! Morning. Mister Lee, Mrs Chao, gentlemen”

He took a seat near Lee and produced a small folder and a laptop, which a silent gofer attached to the room’s conference system.

“I am sure Mister Chisholm here has given you the background to the excellent work being done in New South Wales following Western Australia’s lead, but matters have a little more complication than a straight UK/NSW focus would suggest, not least because Mr and Mes Rhodes here work for an Australian company, even though wholly owned by a UK business, and they are actually themselves Australian citizens”

Oh, you devious bastards! I tried not to grin in admiration, as two countries played King of the Castle over our work. He hadn’t finished, though.

“Mr Lee and myself had a meeting with our trade attaché yesterday, and I am sure Mr Chisholm’s own colleagues will be more than happy for us to bring a combined energy to this project. Now…”

His own Powerpoint came with video sections, and from its depiction of Talbot and Swan it could have been described as a hagiography. In short, yes it was a system derived by a British business, but the ideas came entirely from Australian nationals, even if Maz and I had only gained our citizenship a few seconds ahead of the school bus project’s actual start. Chisholm looked almost green as Bobby summed up.

“The amusing part of our project is that Mike and Maryam—Mr and Mrs Rhodes here—initially thought we wanted them to travel around the whole state running the system hands-on. Western Australia is the largest state in the Commonwealth of Australia, and that sort of action is clearly unfeasible. Instead, Talbot and Swan deliver training to representatives of local cohorts, as well as specific upgraded training for super users so that low to medium level problems may be resolved locally and…”

This wasn’t the Bobby we sat with in a greasy spoon for sausages or pie floaters, but a very, very smooth professional, and he smoothly cut the ground away from under Chisholm as I asked myself what he was going to offer the FCO man as recompense. I was also wondering how I would explain this tiny and insignificant switch in direction to our head office.

Oopsies.

Mrs Chao took over just then, with some management bullshit bingo about matrix structure as opposed to the cellular hierarchies of WA and NSW, and both Bobby and Chisholm nodded along as if they understood what she was talking about, but eventually we wound things up with a notional agreement.

We would train the next set of trainers for the City-State.
Australia, and particularly WA, would get the official credit for the idea, while the UK would fund a large party of the training set-up.
Certain trade agreements would be adjusted.

We all smiled and shook hands again, and went out into the bright humidity of a Singapore afternoon. To my surprise, Chisholm stuck with us as we went for an afternoon snack and debrief. He even led the way to a decent café, where he said the sushi was particularly fresh. As we sat down, Bobby started to grill him.

“When did you leave Canberra, Andy?”

“Oh, about six months ago, Bobby”

Our friend turned to us with his trademark grin.

“Andy’s moved about a bit, mates. Used to be with the High Commission in Perth, but got seduced by that place on the East Coast. Never was a sandgroper, really, were you, mate?”

‘Andy’ shrugged, then grimaced.

“That was a bloody ambush, Bob. We were supposed to be setting this up from the London end, or that’s what Alex said”

Maz looked up from her Cali rolls.

“Alex Beaton?”

“Yes. FCO proper. You know him?”

“I think he’s sort of our head office’s minder. Now, I’m puzzled here. We both are, me and Mike. Bobby’s lot setting us up for this job, then the FCO coming in from the direction of our UK bosses. Who are we actually supposed to be working for?”

Bobby looked at Andy, who nodded, then our friend turned to us with a gentler smile.

“Main chance stuff, mates. Our idea, gets lifted by Andy’s Sydneyside mates, goes full circle back to your place on Yorkshire, and suddenly everyone’s sniffing. Like sharks with blood in the water, ey? Anyway, what we have just done is slap markers down. Neither country is going to get all the prizes here, so we have to split the rewards. You okay with me speaking plainly, Andy?”

“Go on”

“Right. Thanks. You two, this is an Aussie proposal, but Andy’s lot want their slice of the pie. The risk is that we offer this up, and his mate Beaton gets your plug pulled from the UK. They do that, we simply send over some of the people you’ve already trained and carry on anyway. Lots of people lose out that way, and you two, Kul and the rest, you get shat on. More, it looks very much like our tow countries can’t be trusted to play nicely together. Can’t be having that, can we?”

I found myself shaking my head in disbelief.

“Is it always this sodding messy? So much backstabbing?”

Both men said ‘Yes’ in near unison, and I decided that diplomacy was never going to attract me as a career. Bobby handed his opposite number a chunky file as we finished the meal.

“Proposals from our head of mission and trade man for your lot, Andy. They think it’s a big enough pie for all of us. Now, I’m off back to Perth in three days. You a fixture here now?”

“Got six months more, then back to Sydney. Left the family there. Local mores, yeah?”

“Ah. Good point. Now, I am wondering where we might find a pleasant family here who might be persuaded to offer a poor lonely fellow Aussie the chance of a barbie and a few cold ones before I leave?”

He was looking meaningfully at us, as Maz giggled, so I shrugged.

“Ain’t got no barbie, Mr N”

He checked his watch ostentatiously.

“I think you’ll find you’re wrong, Mr R. This lot of schemers have sorted you out the house, but they don’t understand our vibrant Australian culture. We are having a simple one delivered this arvo. Electric, rather than charcoal. What are you doing on Friday?”

Maz was now laughing happily rather than just giggling.

“Please sir: I will mostly be out buying barbie food. Mike can carry the booze”

Andy was nodding again.

“Assuming I would be welcome, it works for me”

I shook his hand.

“Be welcome, then. Oh, and that matrix thing Mrs Chao said? What’s that?”

“Oh, a simple thing. Rather than widely spaced cells operating in the RFO, this is a single city, if a bit spaced out, Super users as a cadre operating from the centre as needed”

“Ah, of course. Oh: bring your swimmers on Friday!”