Chapter 8

I tried to phone Sue, but got voicemail. I phoned my Mum, but she was far more interested in her grandchildren than in her younger son. I promised her that Weena would call if there were anything to report from Patrick's school. And that was that.

Mona wanted to know what I had been laughing about, so I printed the page from the BBC for her. She didn't "get" it. I explained that, apparently, Mr. Darrell felt that I had interfered with his real estate / development deal up in Geraldton — even though it was Chaz' report and Chaz on the Channel 7 broadcast — and had been looking for land down in the Wine Country. But here were two projects in different parts of Australia where the local politicians were putting obstacles in the path of capitalist greed.

"So it's everywhere?" she asked.

"Probably not everywhere. But it looks as though folks are beginning to think about this island a bit, rather than their bank balances."

The phone rang and Mona took it at my desk. "It's Chaz," she said and handed me the receiver.

"Hey!"

"Done laughing yet?"

"Just about. I had to explain it to Mona, or I would have called you."

"I've got all the paper together for the new appointments. Do you want the rejects, too?"

"Hell, no! We get enough paper here. You stow that stuff, though. The last circular I saw said three years. Maybe five. Too long. But then you get to remove all metal fasteners, run it through a shredder and have it recycled."

"Do we recycle the metal to someone else?"

"No — I think we give it to Rio Tinto and they put it into a dead mine for someone else to find in a few thousand years."

Chaz laughed. "Nearly dumb enough for a politician. That's why they want you in Canberra!"

"What you doing for lunch?"

"I was going to get more noodles."

"Okay. Why don't you bring those files with you? I'll meet you a few minutes before noon."

"Fine. See you in about two hours."

I started reading Nicola Watson's thesis on female Onthophagus sagittarius (dung beetles) supervised by Leigh Simmons. She expected to receive her degree in March [The Evolution of Female Ornamentation in Onthophagine Dung Beetles] and I'd been asked to serve as one of the examiners. It was first-rate research and she'd get her degree and should get a good job offer. By the time I looked at my watch it was 11:30. I straightened up my desk, went next door and told Mona that I was off to lunch.

Chaz' ute was already parked, so I put the Land Rover next to it.

"Hey," I said, "Are you going to eat that stack of paper?"

"No. I'm sending it to my boss so he can practice reading."

"Thanks. I'm hoping there aren't too many big words. I've enough trouble acting as a lexicon for Patrick."

"Been there. Got the tee shirt. Are you going to buy him one of those kiddie dictionaries?"

"No. I hate 'em."

"Michiko got a junior Oxford for Rachel. She likes it."

"Where did she go?"

"Angus and Robertson on Hay Street. But there are several bookstores along Hay."

"Good idea. Patrick and I could go shopping together on Saturday."

"I think he's a bit young for Ned Kelly or Patrick White."

I laughed. "I think The Jungle Books and Kim are closer to his level — and they won't be that easy."

"Rachel wants to go to Canada. She saw 'Anne of Green Gables' on television."

"I read King Solomon's Mines when I was only a bit older than Patrick is now. If he likes Kipling, maybe I'll get him that. Or Treasure Island."

My mobile rang. "Hollister."

"Hey. I thought I'd let you know that Patrick was dead on. He was told that violence was bad; he apologized; it was near 11:30, so we went off to lunch and we're now home."