CHAPTER 44
Two days later, and I was in the office early, Kul as insufferable as ever.

“Got your lunchbox? Clean hanky? Done your homework, son?”

“Oh bugger off!”

“Yeah, well. Give us a shout when you’re done. Might be simpler if Maz drops you back here afterwards. Let us know, okay? Here she is”

I turned my head, and she was just coming in the door, looking very different to my experience of her thus far. For a start, she was in a suit, so sharply styled she could have given the air paper cuts. Kul called out a hearty good morning, followed by his final instructions, clearly for her benefit.

“Told this one, if you don’t mind, that it’s easiest if you drop him off at ours. Want a bite with us?”

She nodded.

“If that isn’t a problem. We could pick up a take away if that suits?”

“I’ll run that past SWMBO, see what she thinks, and let you know. SMS be fine?”

He turned to me.

“Little real Aussie there, mate. Their term for ‘text’. Like EFTPOS. You’ll get there, she’ll be right, et cetera. Don’t damage him, Maz: no folding, spindling or mutilating”

He made a point of turning away and heading for the coffee corner, and Maryam snorted, just a little.

“We off, then?”

She was a much slower driver than I was used to, but steady with it; not timid, just in no way pushy or reckless.

“You had breakfast, Mike?”

“Bowl of cornflakes, and a couple of slices of toast. Why?”

“First place do a roaring breakfast trade, and they do a very, very nice sausage sandwich. Handmade stuff, not from a factory or a freezer”

I thought for a few seconds before asking what seemed like an obvious question.

“Maryam?”

“Yes?”

“If this is too personal… Look. I am assuming here, your name and that, but, well: pork?”

“And you’ll be thinking ‘alcohol’ as well, no doubt. How I was brought up, how I live now, well, I… Look: can we save this till lunch, or after the boarding place? Not just now. Bit heavy”

“Sorry, Maz. I really didn’t want to intrude”

“Not that, Mike. We need a bit of air-clearing, but I think one big info-dump might just spoil our professionalism for Mr Greasy Spoon. Later, if we’re still in the mood?”

I nodded, knowing she could see me out of the corner of her eye. “Later be fine”

She surprised me when we had parked up near the first business, called ‘Soapy Joe’s’, by changing into a pair of heels.

“Don’t wear these that often, but it’s odd how something like silly shoes is somehow translated as ‘serious professional’. Background here is that the owner was a cook out in the goldfields, and his customer base was just a little bit lumpen in the taste buds area. Got a payout for an accident, took the money and ran. Got the skills for doing a lot more than a greasy fry-up, but he still sells that to those who prefer it, just with better ingredients. Lot of the letter-box-lens people come in for something pretentious-but-not-pretentious”

“Letter box what?”

“Trendy posers, Mike. Ones with the rectangular glasses who talk about which side of the dunny a coffee bean was grown, and strains of sourdough”

“Oh god…”

“Yup. Expect ockers mixed with yuppies, with a sprinkling of students. Follow my lead…”

She all but strutted into the café, briefcase held just so, and as we entered I saw heads turn, and could just about read the reactions from each group, ranging from an obvious “Oh yeah!” from the workers and students (the male ones, at least) to a contrived posture of dismissal from the ‘letter box lenses’, and yes, all too many of them were wearing them, several with stupidly thick white frames. She had the customer base down to the smallest detail, and I was impressed. To me, a café was a café, and my interest, at least my professional one, was behind the counter.

“Morning, Mister Soper. You ready for us?”

The owner, a solid man with a patch over one eye, grinned happily.

“Yet again you brighten the day, Maryam! New suit? And who’s this?”

“Des, you ask that question every time I stop by, and you know full well I’ve had this for ages. This is Mike Rhodes, from our UK branch. He’s joining us out here to see how we do things down under”

“Welcome, Mike! You had breakfast?”

Maz answered for me.

“I filled him in before we opened the door, Des. What do you have?”

“Oh, usual stuff. Got an experimental one, though. Bloke down near Walpole does venison, got a herd just east of town. I do them with some battered peppercorns, sage and a bit of rusk. Still got some of the Old Spot ones, if you’d prefer something more traditional, otherwise it’s just the basic ones from that farm down by Northcliffe”

I offered my own comment, just to feel included.

“Des, is it? No offence, but it sounds like nothing you offer here is basic”

“Ah, Mike, there’s basic and there’s basic. Nothing wrong with a good old fry up, but decent ingredients help. And ‘decent’ doesn’t have to mean raised in luxury, with regular massages, like that Japanese beef stuff. Just get the right stock, give it the right fodder, and she’ll be right. What you fancy, Maryam?”

She pointed at the menu board.

“Could I try those venison ones? You have me curious. Mike will have the Old Spot”

I was about to comment, but she hadn’t finished.

“See, I might not like the venison ones, but I do know I love the Old Spot, so if I don’t like Bambi, we’ll swap plates”

I couldn’t hold back my laughter.

“Cheeky woman!”

A flashing smile in return.

“Know your place, Sonny Jim! No: seriously, half and half each, so we can both have a taste. Tea, Mike?”

“Please”

“Then that’s a latte, a tea, and mix the sandwiches up for us. Got a table?”

“That one in the corner, away from the drafts. Get down to the crunchy stuff after you’ve eaten, ey?”

“Absolutely, Des”

“Not fancy a fuller plate?”

“Ah, got another food place after this one; got to watch my weight”

One of the ‘Ockers’ called across a comment about him doing the watching, which brought some laughter, But Maryam simply flashed another smile at the room, and we were seated.

The sausages were indeed something special, the pork being superb; the venison ones reminded me of something else, and it was some time before my memory cleared. I swallowed a rather nice mouthful before offering my pearls to Maz.

“It reminds me a bit of merguez. French sausage, usually spicy lamb. Think it’s from Algeria or Morocco originally”

“You like it?”

“I do. This place is a keeper—do people fight for who gets to visit?”

“Yup. On the beach, armed with nothing more than a set of barbecue tongs”

“You are perverse”

“I have a reputation to maintain, Mike”

I had no answer to that one, so I just ducked my head, smiled and left it alone. The sausages were as good as advertised, and the books left us with a simpler challenge: what on Earth could we offer in suggested improvements? We did our best, and there were a few areas Maz had spotted, but in the end I felt that this might be one we would be losing as a customer. We had done our job, but I suspected that some of us might reverse the customer role.

The sausages were indeed that good.

The pizzeria was nowhere near as well run, so we did our own tag team game in offering suggestions, until we were finally at lunch time. The owner gave us the use of an outside table, and in quick order delivered Maryam’s seafood special and my ‘Volcanic Swan’. She laughed out loud at my choice.

“This machismo thing with men, who can eat the hottest meal and all that? Is that why you climb?”

I ignored the slight, and tried to give a sensible answer, about perspective and so on, but she cut me short.

“Kul told me a lot about you, Mike. Dal too”

“Dal?”

She shrugged, then looked at me directly.

“Of course I know he has a crush on me. He’s still a nice boy, but…”

She adopted a sterner expression that was somewhat shy of utter sincerity.

“He is indeed a nice boy, but that’s it: a boy. I suspect he isn’t a lad who is exactly comfortable in talking to girls around his own age, and so… No. What they told me about you is where I was going. Quick summary: lived in a place Kul won’t name, but he dropped enough hints for me to identify it, and I looked it up, oh dear me. Smart move. It was Dal who dropped the info I will assume he wasn’t meant to. What… Sorry. Mike?”

“Yes?”

“If you don’t want to talk about Carolyn, I will understand, but I suspect we have some pretty common ground to tread, and, well, I feel I need to explain my life”

I finished my mouthful of hot-and-spicy and drew a slow breath.

“Pretty simple story, but rather complex--- issues? Issues. There was a road accident. We were on a bike, a motorbike. Nobody’s fault. I… have a look2

I undid a few shirt buttons so that she could see the scar on my chest, and she winced. I shrugged.

“Fractured sternum. Caro’s break was… Sorry”

I dabbed my eyes with the paper napkin, careful to avoid any traces of hot sauce. A couple more deep breaths.

“She’s buried in That Place, and that’s the complication, or one of them. She’s, I… It feels so much like I’ve abandoned her. When I moved to Sheffield, I made sure I popped back every few weeks, couple of months. We had friends there, climbing and folk clubs, and they still look after her for me. Coming over here, that’s out of the question. It was…”

I looked up from the remnants of my pizza to find her staring at me, head slightly cocked, her own eyes a little damp.

“It was something I saw from Australia, oddly. Blue-tongued skinks”

“Stumpies?”

“That’s them. Mate for life, they do, and it was that image of the survivor waiting next to its roadkill mate until it ends up the same way. Kul said a few things, and so did Keith and Pen. You remember them from the Skype session?”

“I do”

“Well, Keith used to work with me, or rather me with him, because I left first. Keith stayed on, until his wife left him”

“He was married before Penny?”

“Nope. She simply went somewhere nicer, found a home and a job, and gave him the choice. Said he was becoming someone else working there. We were all in the same climbing and folk clubs. Funny story; another time, yeah? Anyway, that is really why I am here. All sorts of folk pushing me, from Pen to Kul, to get off the road before I end up as roadkill too”

I found myself smiling, in a twisted way.

“Given, well, Caro, not exactly the nicest metaphor. Story of me over for now”

She nodded, dabbed her eyes, and tried her own smile.

“Yes, well. From KL—Kuala Lumpur, capital city of my own country. Family’s pretty observant. I’d say ‘orthodox’, but that would make them sound Jewish, and, well, not exactly on their ‘nice’ list. I studied down in Singapore, which is a VERY different place
She laughed, rather amazingly, given the topic.

“It’s so strict, in so many ways, but at the same time it’s very free in some ways. Main one is cultural: four main cultures squeezed into one small country and told to get along. Codeswitching in Singlish is amazing”

“Sorry?”

“Ah, Singlish—Singaporean English. They jump from language to language when they speak, depending on which one works best at the time. Back home, it was always either English or Bahasa Melayu—Malay. Near where I lived, they were so strict they used to enforce lights staying on in cinemas”

“Beginning to sound like a broken record here, but, again, sorry?”

“Videos, Mike, or DVDs now. You don’t need to go to a cinema to see the latest film, so the only reason anyone wants to go must be Immorality!”

She made expansive hand gestures for the last word, eyebrows raised and a quavering intonation, then sniggered.

“I shouldn’t laugh, because it really isn’t funny. Over the last few years, they’ve been getting stricter and stricter. The constitution literally enshrines the religion, and as I said to you already, every Malay child is automatically enrolled into it. No choice. Anyway… Anyway, there’s me down in Uni getting my soul polluted, or something, and even with the lack of civil liberties in many areas, It is really a breath of fresh air, or rather a whole new world of it. That’s what broke my links to my family. Someone tipped them off that their daughter was being immodest… I saw something a few days ago that really got me, and it was simple: whichever book you’re using, when it says dress modestly, it really means plainly, not all flashy, and nothing to do with covered hair or shapeless robes”

A much happier laugh.

“My fashion sense went ballistic, Mike! I could never, EVER dress like this at home. Anyway, I stayed on in the Lion City after my studies. Haven’t seen my family in years, and… That is going to be all for now, Mike. I don’t want to overload you, and I’m not trying to outdo you in the shitty life stakes. These sailing people, what are they like?”

I beat my curiosity into submission, and gave her the rundown on their issues and aspirations, and before I had finished, she was paying the bill over the protests of the owner (‘No, ta for the offer, but we’ll get it back on expenses’), and we were on our way to South Perth, where Rhona was waiting for us under an awning, Rod sitting with her, and a ug of what I was quick to recognise as LLB between them. He grinned a greeting.

“Hiya, Mike! Where’s Kul?”

“Tied up today, and not like that. Maryam here was free, so we have a quorum, or whatever. No, I am not going to mangle a load of Aussie words”

Maryam Raised a hand, finger pointed.

“Ripper, bonzer, she’ll be right, cobber! That’s done; what do you have for us?”

Rod waved at a van parked at the edge of the compound.

“Already had a go with their trailer, and it works fine. Going to borrow it this arvo and drag it up Welshpool Road with some weights in. If that’s a goer, fine, but I can always switch an engine over if it needs more poke”

I found myself seeing Rod in a new light, because that sort of work was well beyond the scope of what I had assumed to be a simple hire, sell or repair business. Rhona also had her eyebrows up.

“You can do that, mate?”

“As long as it’s from the same model range, it’s straightforward. Bit more work needed for a complete change”

He laughed happily.

“Got a little 250 bike in the shop. Surprises some car drivers, it does”

My attention was definitely caught.

“What 250, Rod? I am a biker”

“Oh, Honda RS, Mike”

“What have you done to it?”

“Swapped out the engine for an XT660. Bit more poke, as I said”

I turned to Maz to explain.

“Gone from around twenty five horsepower to forty five. How on Earth did you squeeze it in?”

“Oh, I had to remodel the bottom of the fuel tank and…”

He went into a very detailed explanation, and my respect continued to increase. In the end, I put up a hand to pause him, and turned to Rhona with a smile.

“Take it from me, Rhona, but this man knows what he’s about. Shall we have a look?”

The work was indeed top notch, and as Rod talked us through the tricks he was planning for the seats, I could see Rhona nodding as her smile broadened. We had a success on the books once more. As we were about to head off, a list of points for the draft contract in Maz’s briefcase, she turned back to the pair.

“Just a suggestion, but next week I’m going to visit a camping supplies place. Let me know if there’s anything I should look out for”

Oh, you bloody sneaky Malay!

We were back on the road and out of sight of the yard before she let herself laugh.

“That went SO well, Mike! Think Kul would mind cracking a couple tonight, a toast to success, teamwork, whatever?”

“We can ask”

“I’ll ask. Hang on…”

She found a place to park at the water’s edge and pulled her mobile from the glove box.

“Kul? Me. Mike’s here. No, I haven’t dumped him at the roadside.

“Absolutely brilliant1 That Rod is a real engineer; Mike can fill you in on the boring boys’ club stuff.

“Yeah, I suggested that. Didn’t tell them I haven’t yet visited that camping place.

“Well, you are the one utterly without shame. I’m just the aspiring novice.

“Me and Mike, we are wondering, as it went so well. Crack a bottle tonight? Yeah? See you shortly, then’ we’ll do the bottle shop—hang on! Takeaway?

“Yeah. Text me your order, and we’ll do it. Tell Geeta this is NOT a reflection on her cooking, okay? Simply means it gets there when we do, so no worries about timing.

“Why? Because both me and Mike know you far too well! In a few, then. Bye”

She slipped the phone back into the glove box, and turned to me.

“Going to get this out while I have a sensible head on, Mike. Me, okay? Yes, I stayed in Singapore, because I was having fun, and, well, it suited me. That was… We, the firm I was working for, we shared a building with a few other concerns, but there was a sort of works canteen there. Outside catering company, set up in a space on the ground floor, and each business gave a discount to their staff, a subsidy”

“Nice idea”

“That was Singapore. Get the staff eating at the office, they’ll be back earlier, et cetera. Sharp business practice, like so much of what they do. Anyway, I need to get this out. Alan worked in the building, and his father and grandfather--- his grandfather had been a soldier, and his father had lived in Singapore with him when it was a British base. Used to go on holiday to Penang, where there was a British forces holiday camp.

“I… We…”

She paused, for a few long breaths, then continued, her gaze to the front.

“We got engaged. I invited my parents for the wedding, and they disowned me. We went ahead, around Christmas, and our honeymoon was in Penang, not that I told my family, after what they said. Alan had located the old holiday place, so of course we had to go for a look see. It’s raised above the sea, but steps down, and the beach is lovely, with rock outcrops to the North. ‘My Dad used to fish off those’, he said, so I sit on the steps while he goes clambering, and then the water goes out, and out, and out, and someone understands and screams at me to get up the hill, and…”

She was weeping now.

“And I got thrown around a bit, but I was uphill, and I got caught up in some buildings, but Alan… He washed up a week later”

She was silent for far too long, before smiling at me in a way that left no doubt as to how close she was to her own edge.

“Mike, I have no idea--- No. Not true. I listened to the two boys talk about you, and I was, well, Parallels, far too many of them. I didn’t mean to get so heavy today. I don’t know, well; just floating an idea”

“Go ahead”

“I have a lot of crap caught up in me at the moment, and I would really like to dump some of it. I really suspect, especially after what you said, that you are far too like me. I have a dream, though. Call me soppy, if you want”

“What’s the dream?”

“Ah, just to find someone who can listen as well as talk, and go down to the beach. Get all of the shit out of both of us as the sun goes down, and wait for a brighter morning”