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CHAPTER SEVEN
Rory didn't have to see the head of Oceanic until the next day, so he decided to pick up some clothes and spend the rest of the day relaxing. He had taken a motel at a seaside suburb called Bronte for three days. Helen, his late wife and he, had spent a wonderful week there.
That afternoon he rang Darin Shelby, one of his long time mates, and best man at his wedding. He got an enthusiastic welcome and a non negotiable invitation to dinner. Rory asked whether Emily, Darin's wife, needed to be consulted, but in Darin's usual way, said it was no problem. Besides, Em would cancel anything, almost, to have him around.
It was for her, that he had bought that small gift from Singapore. She was so effervescent he sometimes thought she would separate into a thousand pieces and float away, all in different directions. Never sitting still, more concerned about her guest's welfare than her own enjoyment. Shelby and he had even vied for her attention, once, but along came Helen. Darin and Emily married about six months after Rory did, and now had two girls. They had a town house in nearby Randwick not far from the fashionable Peters Corner and it's cosmopolitan shops.
Rory caught a taxi to Grace Bros. department store in bustling Bondi Junction and picked up a suit and sports shirt. "And will sir be charging these?" was the comment as they were placed in the red and white bag. Rory couldn't resist. "Yes. I'll plug them straight into the mains. Should make the shirt glow brighter." Neither broke into a smile, but Rory cracked up when he was out of sight. "Can just see him serving in Pakanbaru. Would last an hour." A passing woman looked at him. He gave her a grin, then thought he better watch himself.
At seven, he knocked on the front door of the Shelby's. The elder of the girls opened it, with dad standing behind her. "Uncle Ror," and gave him a hug. Then Darin was grabbing his hand and giving him a hug.
"You old pirate. About time you came out of the jungle and put our minds at rest. You look well." Then another little face appeared between his legs. Rory bent down and pulled her cheeks. "Hello little one. Wendy's got a new dress." The kid wriggled out of sight.
"Come in. Emily is somewhere in the kitchen, or the bathroom or wherever. Dying to meet you.”
They moved inside and sat down. The lounge looked new. Suddenly a squeal, and Emily sort of waltzed in dropping an apron and grabbing him with both arms in one movement. Then there was that kiss, just a tat long for Rory's comfort, on the lips.
They parted and looked at each other. "Marvellous. Tarzan is getting younger, I swear. No Jane? How silly of me. Your in the bush, only....young nubile native girls."
"Whoo," cut in Rory, "slow down, and yes to all of it.”
Emily cocked an eye at him. "So where is she? Not out in our palm tree, I hope?”
"Em, behave, and let Rory relax. Right girls, to your room. Say goodnight to Uncle Rory." The girls gave everyone a hug, and followed mum down the hall. Darin placed a stubbie in Rory's hand. "Talk to us over dinner. Em wants to hear everything. As far as the Shelby's go, life is good. Area manager.”
"Good for you," said Rory. "New lounge looks good.”
"Always a risk with young kids, but it's only money.”
Emily appeared and said dinner was ready. They ate and talked and finished two bottles of red. Rory outlined his life since leaving Australia, or as best he could. Emily was continually interrupting him, asking a host of questions. All accompanied with suitable arm actions. It did go a little quiet when he related about the knifing and subsequent events.
Emily's face showed alarm. "You poor unlucky person," and turned away. Rory knew she was upset, and told her not to worry. He had survived.
"But you could have died.”
"It was all fate," he replied, "would never have met Nancy.”
"Bloody painful way to pick up a bird." Even Darin was concerned. "Shot dead. People play rough up there. This is not a put on, is it?”
Rory pulled up his shirt, and lifted the plaster aside. Emily gasped. "That's horrible. It's not very big, is it?”
Darin coughed. "The wound, I hope, is what your referring to.”
"Darin, do you mind? Anyway I would never comment on size to a man.”
Rory was feeling embarrassed. "When you two have finished talking about my body, coffee would be fine.”
Whilst Emily was preparing the beverages, Darrin asked about the future.
"Don't know," replied Rory. "Why the top man wants to see me, is a mystery. I'll ring you tomorrow. Could be a dressing down, but seems unlikely.”
"May be the expense of fixing you up, the plane and all," suggested Emily.
"No. Peanuts for Oceanic. Would claim it on tax. What would Shakespeare say?”
"Up yours." The men looked at Emily. "Henry the 9th, Act 3," she concluded.
As they said goodbye, Darin said "Well we know what you want for your birthday, out on Christmas Island. Just joking. Wouldn't wish any one there. Call us.”
She gave him a farewell kiss, and made him promise to come back before being shipped out to where ever it might be. A long farewell kiss. 'Must be the wine,' the thought passing through his mind. He left.