Published: 23 Jan 2017

An old dark grey and badly dinted Mercedes Grosser slowly passed the Brody house as Esca made his way through his front gateway, his mind more on the fallen gate and length of the grass sprouting through its rusting iron and wire structure, than on the slow erratic passing of the vehicle. It was Mrs. Emily Battle on her way to do her weekly shopping.

If the Robinson house was the second best dwelling in town, Emily Battle’s house was the best, situated on a rise a whisker beyond the town limits but clearly visible from most advantages around the town.

The mansion had been the Battle family’s pride since its erection, so far back in time none living could remember. Such was the elegance of its structure; travellers would pause to stare at it. With well attended gardens, always fresh paint work and gleaming white picket fence, attended to by a host of groundsmen, handymen and gardeners and an ancient live-in house maid who ruled them all from muddy boots in the well appointed kitchen, to their pay.

Emily Battle was somewhere between ninety and death. English born she bragged she had once met King George the Fifth. She was a child then, remembering only the King’s beard and alcohol, cigar smelling breath. She had been standing with her mother, by the road side as the King in his procession passed by the cheering crowd. He had paused, smiled at the child before collecting her into his arms. What he had spoken to her, the old woman could not recollect, as she had been in such a screaming state the King immediately placed her back into the arms of her mother. Still that classified as a meeting and she remained most proud of the fact, while in pride of place in the living room was a faded gilded framed photo cut from a news paper at the time, captured somewhere close to where the young Emily waited with her mother. Yet even with a deal of imagination neither she nor her mother were visible, only blotches of black, grey and white representing the joyful crowd.

The Battle family had made their money from cattle and as some believed, graft at a very high level, leaving Emily the last in line and wealthy beyond belief. She and her housemaid lived alone in the big old house, its exterior clad with press zinc panels, its pitched red iron roof covering many more rooms than the woman would ever use, leading to broad airy verandas of hanging ferns and rare orchids, all on twenty acres of prime town land. It’s only draw back was the fact the town’s sewerage was process in a collection of ponds on public land behind the property and when the wind, which fortunately wasn’t often, came from the south west it brought with it a slight pong but closed windows and air conditioning soon drove it from the house.

Once a fortnight the old lady would slowly drive the short distance into town to buy her groceries and would on more occasions than could be counted, bump into parked cars, usually her speed meant the damage was minimal and she would promptly pay for any repairs. There was a joke at Jacobson’s Panels whenever a customer arrived in need of repairs, “has Ma Battle been shopping again?” The humour aside, regularly every second Tuesday morning would be the old lady’s shopping day. Most people in town knew that fact and unsurprisingly there would be enough space outside the supermarket to park two semi-trailers.

This morning was no different, the space outside the supermarket was clear but for some reason the old girl’s vision was more impaired than usual. She made the turn around the playground without incident but didn’t place enough spin on the heavy steering wheel to execute the next turn into the bottom street, thus taking out the corner support of the Country Emporium’s awning. Dented but not out she continued on until coming to rest up the arse end of Greg Daniels tray truck. A little shaken but unharmed Emily Battle struggled from the vehicle to inspect the damage.

Within seconds she was met by a most aggressive Heather Sutton from the Emporium, declaring the silly old biddy shouldn’t be allowed to drive, followed by a less concerned Greg Daniels. His tray truck had not been damaged but its number plate was receiving a good washing from the Mercedes holed radiator.

Within no time at all a small crowd had gathered to be entertained, including the so called brothers, Graham and Richard, from the antique shop, and Esca.

“I’ve called the police.” Heather Sutton declared loudly, then perceiving the woman’s distress, took pity and helped her to the bench seat outside the shop, before disappearing to make a cup of tea.

While Heather was gone, Emily gathered her wits, huffed at the damage, collected her hand bag and asked a bystander to call for a taxi. She still had her shopping to attend to and could not trust doing so to anyone else.

“I think you’re done it this time.” Sergeant Barnes declared, pushing his way through the small crowd. The old woman didn’t reply.

“Come on you lot, the fun’s over let the lady breathe.” Barnes demanded of the bystanders. Slowly they dissipated, except for the antique shop brothers and Esca who had developed conversation some distance away.

“Mrs. Battle, I think your driving days are over.” Barnes related as Emily once again collected her bag and searched the street for the taxi.

“Did someone call a taxi?” She exclaimed most imposingly.

“I’ll drive you home and arrange for a tow.”

“Young man I still have my shopping to do, where’s that taxi?” The woman insisted.

It was obvious she wasn’t to be dissuaded, so Barnes suggested he drove her to the supermarket and arranged a taxi home from there.

After helping Emily into the back of his police car he approached where Esca was standing.

“Esca Brody.” He called from some distance, disregarding the existence of the brothers. Esca broke from his conversation with Graham and Richard.

“Yes Sergeant?” Esca answered, feeling his face prickle with apprehension as the brother’s returned to their shop, offering him coffee once he had spoken to the police officer.

“If it’s about that chemist raid, I’ve already told you I had nothing to do with it.” Esca protested as Barnes entered into his personal space, his face much too close for the lad’s comfort.

“So you’re back in town.” The policeman declared.

“It seems so.”

“How was the city?”

“I didn’t think much of it at all.”

The conversation was stilted and nerving. Where could it be leading? Barnes tone had lost its officiousness, sounding somewhat accusing as if he knew something he was not yet prepared to divulge.

“Are you going back?” Barnes asked, his eyes uncomfortably scanning the lad’s body from head to foot. If it was done to un-nerve Esca, then it was working. Even if it may not have showed, he felt sweat forming on his forehead. He wiped his brow with the pretence to scratch.

“No.” Esca answered, feeling his body flinch away from the closeness of the Police officer.

“Umm, there’s something else that has come to light. I’ll have to speak to you about it some other time.” The Sergeant declared his a voice low, almost a whisper. Barnes nodded his head in agreement with himself and left to attend to the damaged vehicle and the deliverance of Emily to the supermarket.

Back at the antique shop Esca was seated with coffee and home made scones, topped with strawberry jam and cream. He consumed two.

“That Barnes is a surly bugger.” Graham declared; his voice as gruff as was his manner, grumbling from his throat like gravel down a metal slide.

“Also corrupt,” Esca added.

“What makes you say that?”

“Just things you hear, he’s supposed to be running some sort of racket.” Esca divulged without guilt. It wasn’t in his character to rumourmonger but he detested Barnes and did so without remorse, besides he was only repeating what most people in town knew about the Sergeant’s shady ways.

“Ah that explains everything.” Graham answered, his face beaming with awareness.

“Has he tried something out on you?” Esca asked.

Graham pause, choosing his words carefully, “Not so much tried but he did mention something about, if people around the town were to donate a little cash it could go towards overtime to allow his Constables to patrol the streets more often, mentioning gangs of unemployed youths and out of town louts, arriving late into the night to cause trouble.

“That would be his mate Hutton, they are as thick as thieves, as for Hutton he is one.” Esca admitted without fear of rebuff.

“Why doesn’t someone report it?” Asked Richard who had been quietly seated some distance away, his thoughts half on the conversation, with the other half scanning through a large brightly covered book on Antique China.

“Suppose you need proof, besides most the town’s council is in on the take in one way or another.” Esca explained, before quickly adding. “So I hear.” Again it was only gossip and predominately coming from Luke. He did have one example that didn’t come from his friend, “Have you met Bob Ferguson?” Esca asked of the brothers. They admitted they had not and Esca continued.

“I was talking to him only yesterday. He was down the main street and caught short in need of a toilet. Seeing it was some distance to the corner crossing he jaywalked across the road to use the facility at the Rose Café.” Esca helped himself to another scone, “Do you mind?” He asked.

“No there’s plenty.” Richard offered.

Esca continued; “well Bob hurried into the café’s toilet and when he left the cubical he found Sergeant Barns looming in front of the door writing him a seventy dollar ticket for the jaywalk.”

“What he didn’t even give him a warning.” Richard showed surprise, as in most cases in such a small community it was custom to do so.

“Nope but Bob was offered the chance to pay thirty dollars on the spot instead, which Barnes declared would go into the town’s poor box.”

“I didn’t know the police ran a poor box.” Richard questioned displaying a measure of surprise.

“They don’t, it would have gone into Barnes’ pocket for beer money.” Esca concluded.

“Did he pay the thirty to the poor box?” Richard asked.

“No he made Barns write the ticket, he’d rather pay the full amount than have it go to Barnes.”

“I had your mate in the other day?” Graham disclosed, taking the conversation away from crooked cops and town louts.

“Who was that?” Esca asked realising exactly who he was talking about, while attempting to distance himself from Luke. Immediately Esca felt guilty for doing so.

“Young Luke, he’s interested in old stuff.”

Esca smiled but didn’t comment.

“I often see him over your place on the weekends.” Graham added.

“Yea I knew him when I was at school.” Esca replied, not wishing to make anything of their acquaintance.

“He’s somewhat outspoken.” Graham continued.

“What has he been saying?”

“Not a lot as such but what he does say is too the point.”

“That sounds like Luke.” Esca agreed.

It appeared that during his visit Luke had noticed from recently delivered mail that the brothers had different family names, Graham Clarence and Richard Winton, a fact he was quick to question, with Graham excusing it to be because their mother married twice, but it was obvious Luke didn’t believe his explanation.

“Are you gay?” Luke had asked without fear of retribution, rendering both Graham and Richard speechless. “Don’t worry so am I.” He had divulged without guilt, leaving both to believe that if Luke was, then maybe so was Esca, coming to that assumption by the power of association. The difference being the proclaimed brothers, unlike Luke, possessed a level of subtlety and refrained from asking out rightly such a question about Esca.

“We’ve invited Luke over for tea on Saturday night, why don’t you also come.” Richard offered, closing his book and folding his arms across his ample stomach. His face locked into his usual nondescript somewhat supercilious smirk. “It will be a leg of lamb, do you like lamb?”

“Not the way I cook it.”

“Then you must come along also, I’ve already asked your friend to invite you.” Richard decreed,

“I’ll let you know.” Esca answered nervously, his thoughts on what Luke may have divulged.

Violet Hunter had been in hospital for more than a week, with Luke visiting her each day. At first it appeared she would return home within a matter of days then she had a setback, with the possibility of being hospitalised even past the conclusion of Luke’s school year and maybe beyond Christmas.

During one such visit from Luke the woman became distressed, believing she had let her nephew down. Luke would have none of it; he was managing fine and had kept her house in order, only staying with Esca over the weekends, a fact he did not share with his Aunt.

Wednesday was leading into the weekend and Esca had not yet agreed to dine with the Antique Brothers on the Saturday, nor had he seen Luke since the previous Sunday and was still stewing over his friend’s conversation with Graham and Richard. That night Luke called in late. Immediately he could see something was worrying Esca. Luke being Luke quickly enquired on the matter.

“You’ve been talking to the two over at the Antique shop?” Esca declared, his manner displaying a strong measure of displeasure and a side to his character almost unknown to his friend.

“I did call in and they invited me to tea Saturday, that’s what I’ve come over to tell you.” Luke replied innocently.

“What did you tell them about me?”

“Nothing why?”

“I don’t want the town knowing about me.” Esca’s voice deepened.

“I didn’t tell them anything about you, besides they aren’t from the town.”

“Did you tell them you’re gay?”

“I did – what I tell people about my self is my business.”

For the first time since the two had become friends Luke also showed a measure of anger. It soon dissipated as he continued. “They are a couple and I trust them besides I would never tell anyone anything about you.”

“They now think I’m also gay, guilt by association.” Esca took a deep breath. He couldn’t remain angry with Luke. To see Luke’s hurt face was more than Esca could withstand, “want a beer?” He asked with a forced smile.

Luke gave a cheeky grin, “Not at the moment, you are gay aren’t you? Or have I been fucking with a straight boy?”

Luke’s answer brought humour to Esca, shaking his head in wonder as to where the lad learnt such terminology, once again believing more than likely it would have been from his Uncle George.

“You know Luke you’re a real worry.”

“And you love me for it.”

“They’ve also invited me Saturday.” Esca declared diverting his thoughts away from his concern for privacy.

“I know that is why I’m here, are you going?”

“Dunno, I’ll think about it; How’s your studying?”

“Piece of piss mate,” Luke quickly declared and repeated his assertion.

“What are you going to do after your exams?” Esca asked, feeling somewhat responsible for Luke’s well being. Esca heard his words echo back. He sounded like the lad’s parent, was he becoming an adult? The thought made him feel old.

“You are beginning to sound like my mother, besides that depends on you.” Luke answered without hesitation. Esca left the subject unanswered, his mind still on the Antique Brothers and their invitation for tea but soon even the thought they may know his secrete dissolved as Luke decided to stay for the night.

“Are you sure about your studies?” Esca asked most seriously.

“Yes mum, do you want me to stay?

Esca didn’t answer which Luke took as yes.

Violet Hunter didn’t return home. After the operation she became somewhat forgetful and found difficulty in walking, becoming confined to a wheel chair. Sometimes during Luke’s visits, she would have to be reminded who he was and on one occasion, Violet panicked because there was a strange man in her bedroom and she was not dressed to receive company. The duty nurse soon calmed her into believing Luke was family and harmless but there was still a measure of apprehension in her tone and action. During future visits Luke asked the nurse to be with him for a time so not to upset his aunt.

As the days progressed her forgetfulness worsened, until the hospital management contacted Margaret Campbell, Luke’s mother, as next of kin, giving the opinion Violet should be placed in a nursing home. Luke’s parents arrived soon after, reaching agreement with the hospital’s prognosis, now only the problem of Luke remained.

The lease on Violet’s house was about to expire, potentially leaving Luke homeless. His parents believed he should remain in town until his exams were completed but they lacked the finance for a hotel room.

“You will have to stay with someone in town.” Margaret declared while arranging her sister’s possessions.

“I could stay at the hotel.” Luke suggested.

“Don’t be silly love, your father has just started his new job and we don’t have the money.”

Luke gave a wry smile. His idea of hotel would be living with Esca.

“I’ll speak to Rose Fraser, I am sure they will put you up until after the exams, besides Bill owes your father a favour.

“Huh, sleeping with the enemy.” Luke growled.

“What do you mean by that love?”

“Doesn’t matter,”

Margaret immediately set herself to sort through Violet’s belongings. The nursing home had already advised that her room would be furnished, only needing a television and maybe a radio, seeing the woman had difficulty in memory most other possessions could be disposed with.

Going through her sister’s wardrobe Margaret only packed the newest and most practical of her clothing, the rest she placed in a number of large plastic bags to be taken to the Opportunity Shop.

“Who was Violet’s doctor?” Margaret asked of Andrew as he sat patiently to one side watching the sorting procedure.

“Some Indian, Patella wasn’t it?” Andrew suggested. “Why do you want to know?”

“It was suggested her operation was botched.” Margaret declared accusingly.

“Na, he’s supposed to be a top doctor.” Andrew answered displaying a level of indifference.

Sat at Violet’s dresser Margaret picked her way through an ornate box containing her sister’s jewellery, most of which was costume, except for a string of cultured pearls, an anniversary present from her husband the year he died. Margaret quickly placed the pearls to one side, declaring Violet wouldn’t be going anywhere and would not have use of them.

Towards the bottom of the box she discovered a broach she had not seen since she was a teenager. It had belonged to their mother and in Margaret’s opinion, being the oldest sister, should have gone to her. During their mother’s funeral Margaret had searched long for the broach but it was no where to be found

“She pinched it!” Margaret declared loudly, placing the broach aside with the string of pearls, immediately loosing the slight tinge of guilt she felt for keeping the pearls.

Once Violet’s personal needs were boxed, Margaret finished gleaning the best of her sister’s belongings and made arrangement with the property owner to dispose of the remainder.

Luke’s parents remained for some days before deciding it was time they returned to the coast. Since leaving town Andrew Campbell had found work and a house with beach views, which Margaret believed would suit her son. To her it was a forgone conclusion, once his exams were completed. Luke would pack his few possessions and return with them and from there a decision on his University future would be made.

“I’m staying on in town.” Luke declared emphatically, bring Margaret’s brow to furrow with displeasure.

“You can’t stay here, where would you live, don’t you want to go to University?” Margaret’s voice was angered, while his father remained distant without comment.

“I’ll stay here until I find work or go on the dole.” Luke declared.

“You can’t, the lease has run out.” Margaret explained.

“I’ve already spoken with old Charlie and he said it would be alright if I stayed on until I found somewhere, or he had a new tenant.”

“Then what will you do.” Margaret asked, becoming frustrated with her son’s attitude. “Besides I have already made arrangements for you to stay with the Fraser’s”

“Mum I’m eighteen now and I know what I’m doing besides I don’t like Bill Fraser.”

“If that’s your attitude, suit yourself but your dad and I have to get back to the coast by tomorrow.” Margaret sighed, shaking her head in frustration.

Luke had always been a disappointment. She had high expectations for her son, maybe a lawyer or somewhere in the medical profession but a dole bludger was never part of her plan. As for Andrew, his father, since losing his job at the butter factory, he more or less drifted through life, leaving the important decisions to his wife, while his expectations for Luke had become non existent.

“Where will you go after Charlie Barrett lets Violet’s house.” Margaret asked, thinking she was stealing a march on her son, by leaving him no other option than to return with her.

“Esca Brody has offered me a room at his place.” Luke answered proudly, realising such a choice would upset his parents. It was designed to do so and did. Margaret’s lips pursed in anger, while her face turned a light crimson.

“I’ve told you I don’t want you associating with the Brody boy.” She hissed through clenched teeth, finding it difficult to meet eye contact with her son.

“He’s not a boy mum and I like him. Besides,” Luke paused, he was so angered he was about to declare they were in some kind of relationship but as quickly realised it wasn’t his right to bring Esca undone. Shying away from his mother’s persistence, he fell silent.

“Well Luke it’s obvious you have made up your mind. Call me when you come to your senses.”

Sunday morning and Luke’s parents were packed to go. Three boxes of Violet’s belongings were crammed into the vehicle’s boot, while another two rested on the back seat of the Ford sedan. The motor was running with Andrew seated in the drivers seat, silent, his eyes on the road ahead. Margaret stood beside the car as Luke ambled onto the pathway.

“So you’re determined to stay?” Margaret asked coldly.

“Yes mum but I will come and visit you soon.” Luke promised without conviction.

“You realise you are upsetting your father.” Margaret added with equal coolness, bringing Andrew’s head to turn. His face twisted before developing into a weak smile, being more upset that the equilibrium with his wife had been disrupted. It would pass, Andrew knew that. All it would take would be a few miles of open road and his wife’s new found obsession with organisation would overcome her concern for her son’s refusal to conform. Besides she had her bridge night to arrange, also dinner for Andrew’s new boss and his wife. All this took time and energy which she could not afford to waste on her son’s wayward attitude. Andrew gave his son a weak smile and nod of his head but remained silent.

Slowly the vehicle pulled away from the kerbing, neither parent acknowledging further their departure. “See you soon,” Luke called, waving as the vehicle turned the first corner and was gone. “Sure thing – see you.” Luke repeated with an exaggerated sigh, slowly he turned back towards the house. Deep down he felt emotion tearing at his chest. It was a new experience for Luke. Usually he would brush away such episodes with a silent ‘I don’t care.’ This time he did care, thinking that the cotton thread holding his small family unit together had strained, almost broken. He needed company, instead of returning into the house, he headed for the Brody house.

Finally it was exam time and Luke balanced revision with visiting Violet at the nursing home and Esca, who attempted to encourage him as much as possible. Luke stayed weekends while building towards something more permanent with Esca taking on cook, laundry maid and house cleaner so his friend could study. Esca took his duty of care most serious and at week’s end the exams were over with a most positive Luke declaring he would top his class and pass everything, while at the same time displaying a devil may care attitude. He wasn’t going to do anything with his success anyway.

“Why bother sitting for the exams if you’re not going to do anything with a good pass?” Esca asked.

“Pride I suppose and at least it will keep my mother off my back, besides you didn’t do anything with your education.”

“That was different Luke I had to leave during the exams because of dad and I was going alright.” Esca explained, feeling he had been badly judged.

“I’ll tell you what, next year, I’ll get work and keep you so you can finish the year at night school, or return to day school.” Luke offered.

“Na, like you I don’t wish to work in an office.” Esca concluded.

Gary would appreciate your thoughts on his story. Gary dot Conder at CastleRoland dot Net

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