Mates 62

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CHAPTER 62
“Mister Rhodes?”

I raised a hand, feeling absurdly childish as I did so.

“Here”

The bald man smiled and waved towards a side door.

“I’m Simon Burns. Just in here, and we can see how this goes. It’s all set up. Can I assume you speak and read English?”

I found myself laughing, in an absolutely genuine way.

“Some of my friends might not agree, as I was living in Yorkshire before I came here”

“You don’t sound very Yorkish to me”

“Ah, no. I’m from southern England. People I were workin’ with, ‘appen”

I dropped the cod accent, now feeling absolutely stupid, and followed him into the little room, where he ushered me to a seat, taking one facing me. H shuffled some papers for a few seconds, then smiled again.

“I am tempted to ask how you cheated on the written test, Mr Rhodes, but I actually think that was down to hard studying, so congratulations. This is actually the hard bit, and as I am, after so many years in the job, a great believer in the ‘Tell me a story’ approach, all that work will be yours for now. So, tell me that story: why do you want to live here?”

That brought out the grin that I had been worrying about. Trying not to sound flippant, I spread an arm.

“Why would any sane person want to live anywhere else?”

“And what reasons can you give me for that answer?”

He teased out a surprising number of confessions, including my opinion of ‘Aussie bolts’.

“I actually watched that video, Mr Rhodes. My son is a regular at that facility. Not my thing, I am afraid. Now…”

Why was I there in the first place, who invited me, my finances, odd little snippets of information that seemed irrelevant at the time, coming back to them later and using them to open up another line of enquiry. He was clearly very, very switched on, and I was starting to worry.

“What family do you have back in the United Kingdom, Mr Rhodes? Do you hope to bring them here to join you, if the decision is a favourable one in your case?”

“Ah. No. I have no family left”

He looked up at that last word, and I saw an eyebrow rise a little.

“Tell me a story, Mr Rhodes. Please”

I shook my head, trying to find the right words. Deep breath.

“I was an only child, both parents now deceased. I have some cousins left somewhere, but we were never close”

“Wife? Children?”

Ouch. If he wanted a story, he wouldn’t get one.

“I am a widower. My wife was pregnant when she died. If you don’t mind, I would prefer no to open those wounds today”

He looked down again, head shaking slightly as he made a note, then looked me in the eye once again.

“I was obviously aware of your being a widower, but that second bit…. May I call you Michael?”

“It’s usually Mike”

“Mike it is, then. I am so, so sorry about that, and there was me prattling on about my son. I can pause the interview, if you’d prefer. Your eyes are a bit damp, and this is not a criminal investigation”

I drew a long breath, trying to feel some benefit from it, then shook my own head.

“No, Mr Burns”

“Simon, if you’d prefer”

“Simon, then. Thing needs doing, best done quickest£

“Ripping a plaster off, ey?”

“Ey indeed. I have a couple of sort of nieces over there, children of some good friends, but that’s all. Caro’s… We have other friends back there, and they look after her for me. Her… Her grave. There are colleague’s in our head office in Sheffield, but that’s all”

“How do you keep in touch>”

“Skype call every so often. Pain in the usual trying to match times, of course”

I chuckled, as a thought struck me.

“A funny thought, Mike?”

“Oh, that thing you asked when I came in. Just wondered what my friends’ kids would say if they were in my place. They’re Welsh speakers”

“Ah. Not an approved language for W.A., or the Commonwealth of Australia as a whole”

“What about, and I have to ask this, New South Wales?”

That brought an absolutely genuine grin.

“To recycle your first answer, Mike, why would ant sane person want to live over there?”

He turned serious once more, asking some rather more pointed questions, then blindsided me.

“My own father was a Ten Pound Pom, Mike. Good British stock, as Australia always was. How do you feel about the other cultures being allowed to settle here?”

“Um, well, I have been living with some close friends since I came here, and they are on the same pathway to citizenship. They’re Sikhs”

My mouth wasn’t listening to instructions, for it followed that comment with, “And my partner’s Malaysian. Does that answer your question?”

“Admirably, Mike. I already knew about Ms Rahman, of course”

I found my jaw dropping, but he just grinned again.

“That video, Mike. English rock star and his lady, ey? I showed it to some colleagues the other day, and one of them said he’s got her case. Nothing sinister. Ah, sod this. I’ve covered most of it, so do you remember a question in the quiz, about how we can make Oz successful, and so on?”

“Oh, indeed. That was one of the ‘if you can’t guess the answer from all the clues we’ve loaded it with’ questions”

“Do you remember the right answer?”

“Something about working and paying taxes?”

“That’s the one. There’s another bit to that, which is what you do. You pay your taxes, and I know that you do because that is part of the background checks. You and your colleagues take it further, though, by helping others increase theirs. Oh, that was me done a while ago, and yes, no issues, welcome to Australia, et cetera, but keep that quiet till it’s official, ey? Now, would you by any chance be free for a couple of hours?”

That floored me, with it’s casual revelation that I was successful in my citizenship application. Just like that…

“Er, yes. I am. I had no idea how long this would take, so I booked the whole day off. What do you need, or is it more a case of what are you asking for?”

Another happy grin.

“I really don’t know if this qualifies as nepotism, but my boy recognised you. Not at the climbing place, I mean, though he has seen you there. He saw you at work, with all the big knobs at the Rotto ferry”

“He works for Murdo?”

“First name terms, oh my. No, Beau works on one of the whale-watching boats, so we heard all about the green fuel changes, and that, in this state, is a true religion of sorts. Climate change is big and nasty news for Oz, so all the green stuff you have been doing is big news of a different kind. What I’d like is for you to have lunch with my wife”

He paused, just for a second, in an obvious tease, before adding, “And her boss”

A chuckle, or a snigger; it was debatable which it was.

“Don’t think it’d be a good look for me to go for a bite with a bloke I’ve just done a citizenship interview with”

“So what does your wife--- sorry; that came out a bit rude. How can I help your wife, Simon?”

“Simple as, Mike. She’s also a government employee, but where I work for the Commonwealth bit—what the Yanks would call the feds--- she works for W.A. itself. She handles infrastructure management, or at least her office does. She has a brief on schools. Not the teaching, ey? Lots of schools. Lots of school buses. Lots of school kitchens. Now, I didn’t want to spring that on you before I did the chat, because it would have looked sus as. So can I suggest you see if one of your colleagues is free to do point, and Colleen’s boss can do the same. Bit more arms’ length for the three of us”

I felt my jaw drop once again.

“Um, Simon…”

“Yeah?”

“How many schools are we talking about?”

“No idea, Mike. Oh, and you’re probably thing I mean Parth, and no, they want to talk State level”

Ye gods.

“Mike, let’s finish the formal bits off, and then you ring your office, ey? I need a signature…”

I left the little room in a state of shock, passing a couple who looked Chinese, the woman elbowing the man, clearly worried by my expression.

Western Australia’s schools. Potentially all of them.

Once again, ye gods. Green Dream wouldn’t have the capacity, or would they? I found a quiet spot outside the building, a long set of square blocks amid some troughs obviously meant for flowers or shrubbery, and my mind was off on Monty Python silliness until I mentally slapped it. Phone. Office.

“Hiya Mike! How’d it go?”

“Bloody well, I do believe, Ronnie. Who’s in today? As in right now?”

“Ah, Kul and Maz. Both said they wouldn’t be able to sit easy on a visit, what with you being grilled and that?”

“Could you transfer me, then? Got some business news”

The phone buzzed and clicked.

“Cool butt”

If it were at all possible, he was getting worse.

“It’s Mike, and that is going to come back and bite you one day”

“Bite me on the butt? I should be so lucky!”

“Could you call Maz over and set it on speaker?”

“You sound out of breath. How did it go—hang on; she’s here. Just switching… There”

“Can you both hear me?”

Positive answers from each, but Maz immediately started saying, ‘Tell! Tell!”

“Okay—it looks like it’s a ‘Yes’ from them”

I held my phone away from my ear until the shouting died down, and then called out that it was minor news, and I had more. Maryam’s voice came through.

“I’ve got my hand on his mouth for a second, Mike, but he can still hear. What’s up?”

I ran through the links between so many people, and when I got to Colleen’s role, I had absolute silence at the other end. Kul eventually broke it.

“So we have a lunch appointment. Where at?”

“I couldn’t think of anywhere except that sausage place Maz took me to”

“We’ll meet you there, then. Don’t drop the bike. Oh, and Mike?”

“Yeah?”

“Can you confirm one thing before I e-mail Sheffield”

“If I can”

“This is all the schools in Perth?”

“Um, not exactly”

“How exactly, then?”

“The State, Kul”

A few seconds of silence, before a soft, but very clear, “Fuck me”

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Comments

Things

Maddy Bell's picture

have snowballed a bit! (not sure if that's the right term in WA!)

If this lot fell in the pig pen they'd come out smelling of roses - and there's nothing wrong with that, they're all good cobbers and deserve to catch a break.


image7.1.jpg    

Madeline Anafrid Bell

I think Ms. Bell is spot on

Emma Anne Tate's picture

Awfully nice to see good things happen to deserving people. It’s less frequently the case IRL, sadly, but that’s a reason for reading fiction!

Emma

Hit In The Bum By A Rainbow

joannebarbarella's picture

That was a marvelous interview and an unexpected, but oh so welcome, follow-up. Welcome to Australia indeed.

Many years ago I put in a similar application in Queensland. I had a problem insofar as there was no record of me entering the country. I had come in via New Zealand and in those days there was no passport required between the two countries, so no reord of my entry. My first interview went very badly as I had been in and out of Oz regularly and the strict interpretation of the requirements for citizenship demanded continuous residence for two years. I thought my tax records would prove that but they did not impress the jobsworth who interviewed me. He just kept harping about the residence requirement. Epic fail.

However, I decided to try again a couple of months later and this time I received a much more sympathetic reception from a different interviewer. I related my story and how my jobs kept me on the move. The official told me how he had had an application from a merchant sailor who had been coming to Australia for over twenty years but had never spent more than a month at a time in country due to sailing schedules. He had given him a favourable review and he didn't see why I shouldn't receive the same treatment, so I walked out of his office knowing that my application would be approved. It all became official at a ceremony a few months later and I still have my Certificate of Citizenship.

I know the feeling……

D. Eden's picture

While in the service, I spent less than 30 days in the United States, not to mention even less in New York State, for over a dozen years in a row. Yet my official and legal residence remained in New York, and to your point I paid taxes there as well - including property tax as I owned a home. However, if someone had looked at the actual amount of time I spent in one place, I’m not sure exactly where it would have placed me, lol. I had to renew my passport this past year, and it seems strange to suddenly be carrying a clean passport - without any visas or working papers attached to it, and without a single stamp yet, lol.

After leaving active duty, my profession as a civilian kept me traveling 70% or more of the time. It was common for me to leave home about 4AM on a Thursday, and usually return home either very late on Thursday night or sometime Friday during the day. And it was not uncommon for me to be away from home for several weeks at a time, depending on which project had my attention at the time, and where it required me to be.

My spouse and I used to joke about the fact that when we retire we would probably end up divorced as we would probably find out we couldn’t stand to be around each other for more than a few days at a time! Luckily, that is not the case - like most married couples, we have our disagreements, but nothing earth shattering and we always get through them when they happen. How two type A personalities manage to do that is beyond me, but more than likely down to the fact that I learned a long time ago to pick my battles and let her have her way on the unimportant things. And I am positive that a healthy dose of estrogen every day makes me an easier person to live with than I once was, lol! At least now when I get upset I am just as likely to cry as I am to yell, lol.

And I haven’t killed anyone in at least 20 years……….

D. Eden

Dum Vivimus, Vivamus