Published: 17 Jul 2023

Lucas Barrington is a big man with slightly receding dark hair showing a touch of gray at the temples, possibly darkened by the dye bottle but just enough not to appear obvious. He is standing with his back towards Alun while watching workmen maneuvering a crane on a new construction site at the far side of the street. His interest appears to be fixed on a group of young Orange-backs, a name often given because of the safety jerkin worn by many workmen.

Within the group gathered on the footpath one stands out from the others with his youthful blond flash of hair and lack of safety helmet but most of all from the skimpiest pair of football shorts that had ever attempted to cover a young man’s tackle. His workmates appear to be giving him banter.

Eventually Barrington breaks interest in the construction site, crossing from the wall of glass he sits on the corner of his desk, “Mr. Hughes,” he quietly says, “may I call you Alun?”

“Yes do so by all means Mr. Barrington.”

Barrington eyes appear to be searching into Alun’s essence, was he regretting his choice, as he had only seen the lad in a television commercial and in the most it was Alun’s accent that brought about his interest. Barrington had researched further, he knew of Alun’s time at the VCA, he had even contacted the academy for information but true to the academy’s policy little was supplied, giving only Alun’s field of study and that he was considered competent.

“Did your agent explain why I have decided to give you this interview?”

“No, possibly it is to do with the latest film you are producing.”

Barrington doesn’t answer. He opens a file and reads for a moment before speaking further, “I saw you in the supermarket advertisement.”

“Yes, I wouldn’t call it acting, although at least it was a speaking part even if only a few sentences.

“That is what interested me.”

“Interested you in what way Mr. Barrington?”

“Your accent, I believe you are British born?”

“Actually I am Welsh,” Alun offers through a measure of pride.

“I am considering you for the lead in a period film I am about to commence. If so would you be interested?”

“This is a strange way to audition for the part Mr. Barrington.”

“It isn’t an audition lad, any audition would need to come later; I like to firstly sound out anyone of interest.

“What would the part be?”

“In general it is set in Victoria during the gold rush of the eighteen fifties but starts sometime earlier in country New South Wales. At present it has the working name of Eighteen-fifty four.”

“It seems similar to that what Jack Cowper played the lead.”

“Yes similar. Do you know Jack?’

“We met during a number of workshops while at the VCA but I haven’t seen him since.”

“Are you interested in the part? Mind you as I suggested there will need to be auditions.”

“Yes quite interested.”

“One thing, are you circumcised?” Barrington asks. His tone is composed as if it were a natural requirement for an actor.

Alun is struck dumb and doesn’t reply.

“Sorry lad I have embarrassed you but it is relevant for the role of Logan McGregor, as there are a couple of nude swimming scenes and the colonials didn’t circumcise.”

Barrington lifts from the desk and again approaches the office window. There is a late season storm brewing across the vast expanse of Port Phillip, while towards the top of the bay the sky is black and menacing. On the street below the activity decreases as construction closes down for the day. The blond Orange-back has removed his shirt while packing away his gear, now all that keeps the lad decent is a couple of hundred grams of white cotton and his work boots. Off to one side two passing office girls appear most interested in the lad as they pass and the young construction worker makes comment sending the girls to giggle.

Barrington seems to smile then returns to his previous question. “It doesn’t matter,” he says, “I should think a good cameraman can work around it either way.”

“Must I answer your question Mr. Barrington?” Alun’s voice catches in his throat.

“It was more you accent that drew you to me for the part, also you have a certain handsome old world look and the audience love a fresh young face.”

“Yes Mr. Barrington I am quite eager.” Alun’s hope is rising and a fluttering of excitement is forming in his breast.

“I will have Melissa send you the script, leave your home address with her as you leave and I will be in contact with your agent.” Barrington then appears to disconnect from the conversation, although his eyes remain on the lad as if measuring him for a new suit of clothing. “Yes I think you could be suited for the part Alun but first you read the script and get back to Melissa and arrange a time for an audition. That will be all for now.”

The Yarra River appears calmer than usual with its brown tidal water pushing further into the city on the incoming turn, as a number of tourist craft motor lazily towards Southgate Pier. The river that flows upside down was one unkind title; even so it did give a certain grace to the tall office towers along its banks, while their glass walls shimmered on the ripples left by the pleasure boats.

Midway across Orrs Walkway Alun paused to reflect on what he had just experienced, while his stomach fluttered with an equal measure of anxiety and excitement. He remembers Jillian’s description of such, being likened to a host of silent butterflies on delicate wings. His mind now turned to the part of Logan McGregor and how it should be played.

‘Keep it simple – stupid,’ he remembers the advice from an earlier workshop.

‘Bridges,’ he thinks and continues crossing the walkway releasing a gentle smile towards the adage.

‘The role isn’t yours yet kid.’

Reaching for his mobile to contact Jillian he finds the battery is dead. In his excitement towards the interview he had forgotten to charge his mobile then he recalls Jillian would be in rehearsal for most of the afternoon. He remembers her morning’s interview with the piranha and smiles, as Jillian was known to have a short fuse when frustrated. He hopes she would refrain from lighting it, because the piranha was well skilled in turning any annoyance to her advantage.

‘Coffee,’ he aspires as he passes through Batman Park.

Close by there is a little coffee house with views of the river where he often came to contemplate on his future. It was his private place for reflection and where he first met his agent with promises of much but delivery of little. At least George Prentice was an honest man and tried his best. Besides it was Prentice who found his part in the television commercial and that at least had lead to his morning’s interview with Lucas Barrington.

It is a quiet afternoon with only one other enjoying his brew, he is a young business banker busy on his laptop and obviously disconnected from his surroundings. The young banker has a worried brow as his head lowers in towards the screen before giving a gentle negative frown, as during the countries pending financial downturn even bankers found difficulty in increasing business.

On entry the barista is quick to guide Alun to his usual table closest to the walkway along the river with a good view in both directions from Princess Bridge to the old Sandridge rail overpass.

“Thank you Barry.”

“Will it be your usual Alun?”

“Yes thank you. There isn’t many about today.”

“It’s the hot weather; the forecast is for thirty-seven centigrade on Sunday, I suppose it is Global warming.”

“Quite possibly Barry,” Alun agrees, ‘I hope they fix my buildings air by then,’ Alun thinks.

“It is also going to be windy later on.”

“Good for surfing.”

“Do you surf Alun?”

“I did but since leaving school, I haven’t had much opportunity and not having a car, it’s a long way to the surf beaches, you can only wind surf on the bay.”

“I tried surfing but I don’t seem to have the right balance, although I have a cousin who once rang the bell at Bell’s Beach.”

“Keep at it Barry, you’ll get there.”

“Maybe – I’ll make your coffee.”

There is a tourist boat motoring along the river and it sounds off while passing the rowing scull of Melbourne Grammar. Those on board wave towards the rowers without receiving acknowledgement, as the crew power towards Princess Bridge. Alun’s thoughts are lost in the boat’s ripples as he contemplates Melbourne in its infancy. If he is awarded the part he would need to live that history, understand the colonies beginnings, its fears and tribulations. He then realizes he knew nothing of the city’s history and even less of the country. ‘That is if I get the part,’ he thinks as a measure of negativity takes the fluttering from his breast and replaces it with a dull ache in his gut.

‘Never mind even an audition would be a start and a handy addition to my resume,’ he silently dissuades his fears.

“Your coffee Alun; hot and strong as you like it,” The barista’s words bring Alun away from his concerns.

“Thank you Barry

“You appear troubled?”

“Troubled? No I’ve had some good news for once.”

“What would that be?”

“I’ve been offered a part in a new film.”

“That is good news,” Barry congratulates as a couple arrive and appear eager for service, “I better attend to them. A customer satisfied is a customer gained and lately they are becoming scarce.”

As Barry satisfies his newly arrived couple with coffee and cake there is a commotion on the street outside the coffee shop. He goes to the window and returns shaking his head.

“What is it Barry?” Alun asks.

“Aboriginal activists demanding sovereignty or something and they are squatting right outside my door. That’s killed the day’s profit.”

There is chanting and it appears to be in support of the stolen generation. What do we want? – justice; when do we want it? – now.

“I heard something on the radio last night,” Barry says.

“What did you hear?”

“It was to do with the stolen generation. Some Politician said that the convicts were also a stolen generation.”

“What convicts would they be?”

“The ones sent out here in their thousands by the British who started white settlement.”

“I never thought much about it. I suppose being a late arrival to Australia it didn’t register. I’ve never imagined you to be interested in politics Brian.”

“I’m not, only they are parked in my doorway and preventing anyone from coming in.”

“Try cooling them off with a bucket of water,” Alun jests.

“If only I would dare Alun.”

It was early evening before Alun managed to make contact with Jillian and before he had time to explain his interview, she cut him short. “Don’t say anything now, I’m about to come over so keep it for then, I’m actually at the tram stop at present and the tram is coming.”

Alun then remembers his promise to his friend Ed being he would call with the outcome. As soon as he ended with Jillian he makes the call.

“I got it,” he gushes.

“You got the part?”

“Well more in truth I have been offered an audition but the producer seemed positive.”

“That’s great news, when do you start filming?”

Alun gives a low chuckle.

“What then?”

“I’m getting a little ahead of myself as it still depends on an audition.”

“What is the part?”

“It is Colonial Victorian about the time of the gold rush but I don’t know much more than that.”

“Are you still on for Saturday night?”

“No worries; I have some guy coming over to have a look at my laptop in the afternoon but it shouldn’t take long.”

“Who; did you call Geeks are Us?”

“Who are they?”

“They advertise on television and reckon if they can’t fix your problem then there isn’t any charge.”

“No he is a gay friend of Viv’s.”

‘Why did I say that?’ Alun thinks.

“Are you going queer on me Alun?”

“Don’t be silly; as I said he is a mate of Viv’s and knows computers.”

“Is his name Wayne by any chance?”

“It is; why do you ask?”

“I’ve met him at Viv’s, watch out he doesn’t jump ya’.”

“Funny boy.”

“I’ll see you Saturday night at the Carlton.”

“Will do.”

Jillian arrived with her usual flush of energy and was no sooner through the door before she began on her interview with the piranha and it was obvious nothing had panned out as she intended.

“I did warn you.”

“I had all may answers planned before but she wasn’t interested in the play, only my private life.”

“I hope you avoided giving her anything interesting.”

“I’m afraid I did let my guard down.”

“How so?”

“She asked me about my relationship with the guy from the supermarket advert and I said it was nothing but rumor. I should have ignored her question.”

“It isn’t possible to avoid a question like that but why did you lie?”

“My agent suggested I should keep my private life separate as a little mystery gives my fans hope.”

“Why worry about it?”

“I have aspirations towards a television soapy and have had a few nibbles by the Nine Network.

“What if I’m asked in an interview?”

“Then say nothing.”

“Ha, like you said nothing.”

“It’s done now and I’ll be more careful if there is another time.”

“Or avoid the piranha. Do you wish to hear about how I went?”

“That’s why I’m here.”

“I bought a new bottle of gin; I’ll mix us a drink.”

As Alun mixed the drinks the promo for the ABC programme People in Focus could be heard from the television.

“Is your interview for tonight?”

“It is.”

“We will watch it first.”

The interview was mundane; the usual likes and dislikes aspirations and goals while towards the end of the interview Roslyn Gatton quietly slipped in the question about Jillian’s love life. It appeared Jillian either didn’t hear or ignored the question, while continuing about her hope for a carrier in television. Gatton asked again and then came the denial but the Piranha wasn’t satisfied and as the camera faded away from Jillian, Gatton answering the question using her own words, finishing with Alun would be a catch for any young woman.

“I’m surprised she even knew who I am.”

“She also knew of Barrington’s interest in you for a part in his next production.”

“So I have been dumped and publically,” Alun gives a huff.

“Don’t take any notice of Gatton, that’s simply media speak; now about your interview.

“It was promising and I think I have the part, or at least an audition.”

“What is the part?”

“He didn’t elaborate but it is another period movie and Barrington said it was my accent that drew him towards making the offer, saying my accent suited the colonial period.”

“Have you seen the script?”

“Barrington said he would post it to me during the week and once I have read it and if still interested, he will set up an audition.”

“That sounds promising.”

“He did ask one strange question.”

“Go on.”

“He asked if I am circumcised.”

“I did warn you about Barrington.”

“No, it was nothing like that, he said it was because there are a couple of nude swimming scenes and guys weren’t circumcised back then.”

“Did you answer him?”

“I didn’t have to; he said a good cameraman could get around it either way.”

“I agree it is a weird question to ask.”

“He can ask me anything he wishes as long as I get the part.”

Jillian finished her drink, “where would you like to go for dinner?”

“I’d like to stay in tonight.”

“Okay then Uber-eats, I know a good pizza shop close by so we’ll order in. I do have one question for you.”

“What would that be?”

“The nude swimming scenes, are you ready for that sort of exposure so early in your career?”

Alun is thinking. During the interview he would have done anything to gain the part although parading naked on set hadn’t occurred strongly but now with time to reflect he wasn’t sure. Eventually he replied.

“I guess I would, as long as it is a genuine part of the story and not considered erotic.

“With what you’ve got down there and your good looks and physique you will have every gay boy in the country pining after you and you will become a gay icon.”

“I never thought of that.”

“Also you have to watch being typecast.”

“That did cross my mind but I’ll see what the script is like before worrying about the future.”

Jillian searches through her bag for her mobile. It is found towards the bottom, buried underneath the things that most women believe they may need on any day out. “Now for dinner,” she says and prepares to make the call, “what would you like?” she asks.

“Hawaiian.”

“I don’t like pineapple, it ruins a good pizza.”

“I’m the one eating it.”

Jillian turns on her mobile, she has the number for Toto Pizza entered and asks Bixby to call the number.

A male voice answers with a bright happy greeting.

“Two pizzas please, one small Margherita and a large Hawaiian; No it’s for delivery,” Jillian gives the address and completes the call. “He said half an hour to forty minutes as they are busy.”

“Are you staying tonight?” Alun is hopeful as he is coming down from the hype from the interview and in need of company, also if offered a little more, although with Jillian’s busy schedule the little extra was becoming less frequent.

Jillian reaches into her bag and extracts a skimpy night dress, “does this answer your question.”

“You should leave some clothes here.”

“That would be too sensible, besides I like the arrangements as they are, it gives our relationship a little mystery.”

“Would you ever consider moving in with me?” Alun asks.

“Possibly, Jillian’s tone is unconvincing, “or you could move in with me.”

“What would you say if some day I popped the question?”

“What question would that be?”

“Making our relationship permanent.”

Jillian gives a light chortle.

“Well?”

“What about our careers?”

“Others manage, look at Hollywood there are lots that are married and still have their careers.”

“Yes and read Dolly, everyday there are tears and divorce, not to mention the fighting over the kids.”

It is more than an hour before the intercom sounds, “pizza delivery.” scratches across the intercom.

Alun answers, “I’ll come down, the lift is out.” He holds his hand out to Jillian.

“What?”

“Your shout, I’m skint.”

It is early Saturday morning when a mobile begins buzzing on the floor beside the bed; “yours,” Alun yawns and stretches. Jillian growls and turns it off

“Why didn’t you answer it?”

“It only mum, I’ll call her back after coffee.”

“This early, it could be something serious. I’m awake now thanks to your mum, so I may as well make coffee.” Alun again stretches the sleep away and naked he goes to the kitchen.

“I love that,” Jillian calls after him.

“What do you love?”

“Your arse.”

“So you only love me for my arse?”

“Also the other bits.”

“Bits huh!”

“I have a question Alun?”

“Go on ask away.”

“What do you think presses a woman’s buttons about a man?”

“In what way do you mean?”

“Sexually, what do you think turns a woman on?”

“You’ve been reading those women’s magazines again.”

“No really. It is a fair enough question.”

Alun is thinking then speaks, “To be honest, I’ve never given it a great deal of thought.”

“That is a typical man’s response.”

“I suppose firm muscles and a big dick.”

“Once again it is a typical answer from a man and far from actual.”

“Or so your magazines reckon.”

“No you ask any woman.”

“Then tell me.”

“It’s a nice arse and a good personality. Your dick is well down the list, even below chest hair and someone who washes his feet and belly button before coming to bed.”

“Umm; sex wouldn’t be much without a hard dick.”

“Have you ever felt a dick excepting your own?”

“No I’ve never had the urge.”

“Then try doing it some time. They are all squelchy and dribbly, it’s no wonder most sex is in the dark, it’s enough to give a girl nightmares.

Alun simply laughs; “don’t you think you should call your mother back?”

Jillian’s mother was a worrier and somewhat highly-strung and would contact over the smallest upset, from the cat being off its food, to her younger brother displaying petulance. Jillian doesn’t reply to Alun’s suggestion but her voice is soon heard over the boiling of water.

“When?”

Alun clearly hears.

“What last night?”

“I’ll meet you there.”

Jillian comes to the kitchen, “Dad’s taken a turn and they think it may be a heart attack.”

“Is he alright?” Alun asks.

“He is in the Alfred, I better get over there. Call me a taxi while I take a shower and dress.”

“What about coffee, it is already made.”

“I’ll get takeaway at the hospital.”

“Hospital coffee; it’s your stomach. Will you be back later, remember your mate is coming over to have a look at the laptop.”

“I’ll try.”

It was past midday before Jillian calls back, sounding a little less concerned than before she left for the hospital. It appeared Bob’s heart was strong as an ox and the crisis was considered nothing but too much alcohol and rich food from the previous night’s dinner at the Robinsons.

“When will you be coming back?” Alun questions once the state of Bob’s condition has been established.

“Possibly tonight but mum is still in a titter, as they have kept dad in as a precaution.”

“Don’t forget Wayne is coming over this afternoon and he’s your friend and he will be expecting you to be here.”

Jillian commences to laugh.

“What’s that for?”

“You Alun – you are scared Wayne will jump you?”

“It’s not that!”

“It is.”

“Possibly a little.”

“Wayne is harmless, maybe he is somewhat suggestive at times and doesn’t know how to keep his love life private but he’s a sweetie.”

“Then I’ll see you tonight.”

“Possibly, I’ll call you back later.”

Two-thirty precisely and the apartment intercom sounds. It is Wayne. Alun buzzes him through but it is some time before Wayne is at the door.

Alun answers.

“Sorry I got out of the lift on the wrong floor,” Wayne admits.

“The lift is working?” Alun sounds surprised.

“It was on the way up. Has there been trouble with it?”

“It has been out for almost two weeks but I wouldn’t use it on the way down, it has the habit of failing between floors. Come in. Jillian isn’t here. Her dad took a turn last night and she went to the hospital.”

“Is Bob alright?”

“I believe it was simply a gut upset or something, so you know Bob?”

“I’ve known Jillian’s family for years. I was at school with her brother Raymond.”

“I didn’t know. I thought you met Jillian through Viv’?”

“It was the other way around.”

“Would you like coffee?”

“Something stronger if you are offering.”

“I only have gin.”

“No thanks – so let’s take a gawk at this laptop of yours.”

Alun opens the laptop and places it on the side bench.

“One of those,” Wayne insolently discredits.

“What do you mean one of those?”

“It’s at least five years old, you should update besides windows won’t be supporting this model after July, then you will be forced to update.”

“It was my brother’s he gave it to me when he bought a new one.”

“Never mind, enter your password.”

“It’s -,”

“No Alun, never tell anyone your password even if you know them,” Wayne quickly warns and dramatically turns his head away.

Alun enters the pass then steps aside.

“I see you have a divided hard drive. Who set up your machine?”

“I don’t know, probably my brother had it done.”

“Easy-peasy; the problem is you need to run systems clean-up,” Wayne says as his hand quickly moves across the keyboard, pressing this than that bringing all sorts of unknown programming onto the screen. “I’ll also do a diagnostic report while I’m at it.”

“What is systems clean-up?”

“I’ll show you,” Wayne talks his way through the procedure, “if you are using the laptop a lot you should do it monthly, otherwise all kinds of junk clogs up the systems slowing it down.”

“That seems easy enough.”

“Right that will take some time as in my opinion it hasn’t been done since your brother bought it, so while we are waiting I will have that coffee you offered.

“How long have you been working with computers?” Alun asks.

“Since I can remember, even at school I would fix the school’s computers, unofficially of course and it was a natural progression once I graduated.”

“Then how come you ended up a carpenter and not a computer geek?”

“I suppose I’m a frustrated actor who can’t act.”

“Have you tried at anything?”

“Some but I’m good at design and there is always plenty of work, besides I fix computers as a sideline.”

“Is there much work fixing computers?” Alun asks.

“The world is full of nuff-nuffs like you,” Wayne laughs.

“I think I’ve been insulted.”

“Only in fun Alun, you are cleaver at other things. As I said I can’t act, you can.”

“More to the point I try. So you have known Jillian for some time.”

“As I said I knew her brother.”

“It’s funny I’ve never met you before.”

“It’s mostly Viv’ I kick around with, she has a girl friend from her work who is a dike and we swap dress patterns.”

“You what?”

“Don’t fret Alun, I don’t wear them only make them for the theatre, I’m also good on the treadle.”

“What is a treadle?”

“It’s a manual sewing machine. I’m also handy at making shirts, so if you ever want a couple run up let me know.”

“I’ll keep it in mind,” Alun says, ‘I don’t think so,’ Alun thinks but keeps the rebuff silent.

Alun was relaxing into Wayne’s company, with his concern for being compromised fading, finding the lad had a likeable disposition. Even so Alun guards his conversation not allowing it to become personal or sound encouraging.

After some time Wayne returned to the laptop and called Alun, “try the net now,” he says.

Alun does a search and it comes up in an instant, “wow that’s quick,” he admits.

“Just remember run clean-up every now and then and you will be fine and surprisingly you don’t seem to have any viruses.”

“I don’t use the net that often.”

“Yes I noticed by your bookmarks you don’t have any porn sites listed.”

“Can you tell where I’ve been?” Alun sounds surprised although he ignores the suggestion on pornography.

“Experts can track your every move but I admit I’m no expert in that field.”

“How much?” Alun asks.

“Your meaning?”

“What should I pay you?”

“For a mate of Jillian’s let’s say nothing. Jillian tells me you’ve got the part you spoke about at the restaurant.”

“I still have to do auditions.”

“Jillian also said there will be nude scenes.”

“Did she,” Alun’s voice lowered into displeasure and for the first time during the afternoon he felt Wayne’s sexuality became obvious.

“I remember Jack Cowper’s nude scene in Eighteen-thirteen,” Wayne recollects.

“I never saw the film,” Alun admits and rises from the sofa as if to be away from the developing conversation. He collects the empty coffee mugs taking them for washing.

Wayne releases a light titter, “Jack gave a personal audition.”

“What is your meaning Wayne?”

“As I said I knew Jack quite well.”

“I won’t be giving any private auditions I assure you.”

“I wasn’t asking for one. You are a friend of Jillian and that means taboo.”

“Good let’s keep it that way.”

Wayne’s promise was enough to lower Alun’s anxiety but there is a wall of difference between his lifestyle and that of Wayne. A wall that had been thrown up during his last year of high school, after an incident Alun had discredited and pushed aside as nothing more than childish antics.

Alun and Malcolm Lawson had been close since early high school until that day while in school cadets. A day Alun had all but forgotten, although it left a spark of interest also curiosity. As for the incident, it ended as quickly as it began, yet even now Alun wondered if it wasn’t for the call to parade would he have gone further. What he did know was their friendship terminated on that afternoon.

A short time after the incident it was reported Malcolm got a neighbour’s daughter pregnant and married her in time for the birth then they separated during his first year working as an accountant. Not long after the separation, Alun met up with Malcolm during a soccer match but nothing was mentioned about their almost school boy indiscretion, while in Malcolm’s recollecting they ended that year the best of buddies, spending time in hotel bars pulling chicks. Alun refrained from contradiction allowing Malcolm his misgiving fantasy.

It was Alun’s uncertainty towards his sexuality that challenged his perspective during his school years, thus he became eager to prove his masculinity with girls by exaggerating his sexual drive. Even so his follow through was limited to words with shyness restricting any activity.

At an early age Alun realized he had acting ability which he uses to his advantage, that with his likeable personality and handsome appearance made him popular, so during those early years his life was little more than theatrical productions, which his father chided and considered sissy. As well as a bent towards acting, Alun had sporting ability, with many trophies in track, field and soccer but valueless in lifting his father’s esteem. Even Jillian had originally been a bit part in his life although one played without a script. With Jillian he became more involved than he had designed and what he felt for her bordered on love.

“I should be off,” Wayne says after taking a final look at Alun’s laptop. He appears satisfied with his work.

“Again thank you and I’ll do what you suggested.” As Alun shows Wayne to the door his mobile sounds. “Hold a mo’ Wayne,” he says.

“Jillian,” he answers.

“Yes Wayne did turn up, he is about to leave.”

“Yes he was helpful, do you want to speak with him?”

Wayne approaches the door, “I’ll leave you to your call,” he says.

“Righto’ – thanks again.”

Gary’s stories are about life for gay men in Australia’s past and present. Your emails to him are the only payment he receives. Email Gary to let him know you are reading: Conder 333 at Hotmail dot Com

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