Published: 15 Jan 2024

Taylor was first to rise and could be heard tidying the house in preparation for his mother’s return.

Alun hears the racket and calls, “what are you up to out there?”

Taylor comes to the bedroom door with a tea towel draped over his shoulder, “you’re awake at last.”

“What time is it?”

“Nine thirty.”

“Shit Tay we’re supposed to be having a break, so how about letting a fella’ sleep in for a while.”

“I don’t want mum to come home to a dirty house. As you are awake would you like coffee?”

“If you are offering.”

“The jug is on. I’ll bring it in.”

“Don’t bother I’m awake now, I’ll join you.”

During coffee Alun appeared quieter than usual and Taylor too polite to enquire, believing Alun may have regretted speaking candidly during the previous night. Eventually Jane arrived as a breath of fresh and happy air from her holiday and her first comment being they both appeared to have lost weight, so she would need to fill their bellies with good home style cooking, instead of their usual pizza and junk food.

Another distraction was a call from Simon with information relating to the filming of the bushfire scene on Logan’s home property, being again delayed as the chosen property for the burn was still too green to hold even a controlled burn. Instead of heading north it would be back to Buninyong, to shoot some of the hotel’s indoor scenes. Also it was deemed necessary to reshoot the conversation between Logan and Peter Lalor from the Miners Reformation League, during which Lalor admits knowledge of the boy’s sexual association. After the telephone call Alun gives Taylor the news.

“It is only a short scene,” Taylor admits.

“Yes and should have been done when Keith was still on set, I think there will be lots of splicing.”

“Why do you say that?”

“The character of Tom is part of the conversation with Peter Lalor, possibly Simon will need to recall Keith, or cut his part in the conversation out of the film.”

“Did Simon say why he needed to reshoot the scene?”

“No and I didn’t think of asking,” Alun admits while displaying a rutted frown.

“Is that a problem for you?”

“Truthfully at the time I felt with Logan accepting the hint towards his sexuality by Peter Lalor, it seemed as I was admitting it myself.”

“You will really need to work through it Alun.”

“True,”

“Can I help in any way?”

“You are by letting me speak freely without criticizing.”

“Anytime.”

“I will say one thing and that is I am close to doing something about it.”

“What would that be?”

“I am devising a way to approach the problem and I’m not that far from making a decision.”

“Would you like to share?”

“Not yet but it won’t be long.”

It was late Saturday afternoon and Alun felt he had been cooped inside far too long, needing to take a walk to remove his lethargy.

“What way will you go?” Jane asks.

“I hadn’t given it much thought.”

“Do you think you will be passing the newsagency?”

“What would like me to get for you?”

“Being away I forgot to place my lotto numbers, could you put them on for me?”

“Yes I can do that.”

On his way to the newsagency, Alun again past by Rebel Sports and in the window on a well developed manikin was the same t-shirt he had admired in Ballarat, only at inflated city prices.

‘Should I?’ he thinks and before the left hemisphere of his brain could negatively answer the right hemisphere, he was inside the store.

Alas his size was sold out.

“I could order one in for you,” the shop assistant eagerly suggests.

“I’ll be leaving in a couple of days. No matter I can get it elsewhere.”

There was a long line at the newsagency as that day’s lotto draw was approaching closing time. Eventually it was Alun’s turn and with a smile he offers up Jane’s numbers.

“Don’t I know you?” the young girl happily asks as she takes the money.

“Possibly,” Alun agrees, believing he was again remembered for the television commercial that gave him his start in the industry.

“You came in with Jane’s lotto numbers some time back?”

“I must admit you have a good memory.”

She gives a shy smile while processing Jane’s submission. How is Jane I haven’t seen her for a while.”

“She has been away but you have reminded me, when I was in here last time with Jane’s ticket I also bought two quick picks.” Alun removes the folded tickets from deep inside his wallet.

“And you haven’t checked them for winnings as yet?’

“I never got around to it.”

“You do realize you can check your numbers on line.”

“I’ve been busy, besides I’ve never been lucky.”

“Now I remember; you said you were never lucky and still you bought tickets.”

“That was me.”

Alun offers up the first of his tickets. It is scanned and a buzzing sound occurs depicts a negative result.

“Bad luck,” the girl sympathizes.

“I told you I wasn’t lucky.”

Alun offers up his second ticket and like the first it is scanned and immediately bells commenced to ring.

“You’ve won,” the girl says and calls for her manager.

“How much?” Alun asks expecting beer money.

“I can’t pay this out?” the manager says.

“And why not?”

“You have one the big one lad – ten million dollars!”

“What!!”

“You’re a rich boy that’s a certainty.”

Alun is struck silent.

“If I remember correctly,” the girl says, “when you purchased the ticket, you said you had never even won a pub chicken raffle.

Eventually Alun finds voice, “are you sure?”

“Computers don’t make mistakes lad.”

“What do I do?”

“Claim it and spend it. Or if you want some good advice, put it in the bank for six months and do some hard financial thinking before blowing it on fast cars, booze and holidays.”

“How do I claim it?”

“Go on line and there is an application.” The manager takes Alun’s winning ticket of to one side where he makes two photocopies, “you will need to send the original into Tattersall’s, so be sure you keep the copies.”

“Go on line you say.”

“Yes download and print out a claim form.”

“I don’t have a printer.”

“Never mind, we have a few application forms somewhere,” the newsagent rifles through a drawer; “there you go, fill it out and send it in.”

“I don’t know what to say.”

“Enjoy it lad but be sure to let folk know where you bought the ticket.”

Alun returns to the house in disbelief while the words of the newsagent are repeating in his head, they being computers don’t make mistakes. Even with his disbelief, he would complete the application, send in his ticket and wait until the winnings reach his bank account before telling anyone.

If Alun assumed his entry into the house was cool and usual, he soon found Taylor’s mood radar to be working overtime, “who wants to go out for dinner tonight?” Alun asks as he offers up Jane’s weekly tickets with a measure of guilt towards his winnings.

“Who is paying?” Taylor asks.

“My shout.”

“Have you won the pools or something?”

“I’m only suggesting the local Chinese, not some swank restaurant.”

“I have already put dinner on. It is Tay’s favorite, Teriyaki chicken.”

“Another night then.”

“Yes I would like that; another night.”

“What’s up Alun?” Taylor asks.

“Why do you ask?”

“You’ve become all chirpy, like someone who has received good news.”

“No good news, no bad news, just me being happy.”

Three days had past and the boys are back on set to finish the goldfield filming, while waiting for the grass to brown off for the bushfire scene. Alun had posted his application and winning ticket, being sure to keep safe the copies and daily, although common sense discredited, he checked his bank account for a large hit of cash.

What to do with his winnings was worrying Alun, as such a large amount would certainly interfere with his developing acting career. It was then with the newsagent’s words resounding he decided not to say anything and wait until after the film was completed before making any decision. Even so keeping it quiet would be difficult and what to do with his winnings was perplexing. He had heard stories of winners of large prizes, who within the short span of a year had wasted it all, some becoming worse off than before. There was also much spoken about how friends and family displayed jealously with the winner who often became ostracized, even suicidal.

Two weeks had past and still there wasn’t any sign of the prize in his account, with Alun considering it to be a hoax. During that time the filming on the goldfields was completed and what remained was the boys return to Bathurst in New South Wales, which would be substituted with the country about Rochester in northern Victoria instead of the original selection of Wangaratta, as the area was similar with its grassland and undulating hills to that of the Bathurst planes and like Bathurst good sheep country.

With the filming completed in Ballarat it was time to move the set up country, so progress in doing so kept Alun’s mind from his winnings, also the family crisis remained constant and as the boys readied for their departure from the Buninyong property Alun’s mobile sounded.

“You’re closer Tay would you get it,”

Taylor takes the call. It is Peter,

“Peter, what’s up?” he says.

“Is that you Taylor?”

“It is.”

“Don’t ask – is Alun about?”

“He is finishing packing as we are off to Rochester tomorrow. I’ll get him for you.” Taylor brings the phone to Alun, “it is Peter’; Taylor says and offers up the phone.

Alun hesitates but realizes he must speak, “Peter,” he softly announces and prepares for the worse.

“Dad has stopped the housekeeping money. He said as I am staying at home I could get a job and support mum. He has also put the house on the market.”

“How is mum taking the sale”?”

“I think she now realizes it is over and has agreed to speak to a solicitor.”

“Don’t use Roberts and Tilley, Frank Tilley is an associate of dad.”

“No I’m using Reg Smethurst,”

“Yes I know of him and I think he’ll do the right thing by mum.”

“I have a favour to ask,” Peter’s voice fades giving Alun understanding towards his brother’s building request.

“You need some cash,” Alun predicts.

“Only until we sort this mess out.”

“How much?”

“A couple of grand, there are a few bills you know gas, electricity that sort of thing.”

“Isn’t dad paying those?”

“Not anymore and he isn’t even answering his phone to me. If I contact him at work, his secretary says he is either out of the office or in a meeting and if I ring his mobile it simply rings out.”

Alun then thought of his winning. If true what he had in his account would be considered but pocket money but he couldn’t offer what he had not yet received.”

“I can go as far as three thousand until my next remittance arrives.

“No two would be enough and I promise to pay it back as soon as possible.”

“Consider it done; what about Dianne is she helping with mum?”

“She telephones daily and they talk for ages, mostly going over the same thing but she keeps away, I think Mick has something to do with that. He and mum have never hit it off and Mum would never ask Dianne for financial help.”

“I thought they were also going through marriage problems.”

“Mick patched it up for now. Dianne said he realized how much a divorce would cost him.”

“I hope dad comes to the same realization.”

“Mick doesn’t have the same legal contacts as dad has.”

“We are busy filming at present, I can’t -,”

Peter cut’s his brother short, “no one is asking you to come home; I’ll manage.”

“I’ll transfer the money.”

“Thank you, well appreciated.”

Alun breaks the call.

“Problems,” Taylor asks which appeared to be a common remark each time Alun receives a call from home.

“The usual,” Alun says and commences to share the contents of Peter’s call.

“Do you need to visit home?”

“We don’t have the time and there isn’t anything I can do, besides Peter has it under control but I need to transfer money, as dad has stopped mum’s house allowance.” Alun goes to his online bank account, “still nothing,” he sighs as he arranges to send most of what was in the account to Peter.

“Still nothing?” Taylor repeats Alun’s assertion.

“No matter, only someone was to deposit money in my account and it has been more than two weeks. I don’t think it is coming.”

“Do you have the monitor app that lets you know when your account has been accessed?”

“I’ve never got around to doing so.”

“You should,”

“I will,” Alun laughs.

“Explain the joke.”

“You sound like my mum, as she always said my middle name should have been indecision.”

“More like procrastination.”

Shoes on squeaky boards bring an end to the boy’s conversation, Taylor turns towards the intrusion.

It is Ralph.

“You shouldn’t sneak up on people Ralph.”

“Sorry Alun but I need some advice.”

“What advice would that be Ralph?”

“What I should do about Ricky from wardrobe, he keeps making suggestions towards me.”

“Has he touched you?” Taylor asks.

“Not yet.”

“I don’t think he would but I will have a word with him,” Taylor promises.

“I was going to tell Simon.”

“No leave it to me. Are you alright with the part of Gilbert?”

“Yes I like the part but what do you think?”

“I think you have found Gilbert’s character. As for Rickey, I’ll talk with him.”

Ralph expresses gratitude then departs from conversation.

“Ricky needs to tone it a little or he’ll find himself on the unemployment line,” Alun suggests.

“He tried it out on me,” Taylor admits.

“And what happened?”

“It was during that first party to welcome everyone to the set.”

“Yes I remember, I was propositioned by that magazine editor but I declined.”

“I didn’t,” Taylor sheepishly admits being somewhat unusual for his character to disclose anything about his private life.

“Who with?”

“With Ricky but nothing much happened as I had too much to drink. It was only a quick fiddle down by the creek and nothing since, although he has tried. Has he tried anything with you?”

“I think I scare him.” Alun assumes.

“Would you if he offered?”

“No, but I may if you offered.”

“OH!”

“Have I shocked you Tay?”

“Not shock only disbelief.”

“Possibly as you said, a fiddle, I don’t think I would go further. I wouldn’t know how anyway.”

Taylor’s voice lowers, “and I would let you but how should I react after that profound disclosure except agree to it.”

“Simply smile and say, I’ll put that on the backburner, as for now we have a film to finish.” Alun then appears to disengage from his confession and is playing with his mobile. “I do have a favor to ask,” he says.

“Anything.”

Alun gives a head laugh but ignores Taylor’s offer of anything, “would you show me how to get that app that advises when my bank account has been accessed?”

“Pass me you phone and I’ll do it as you watch. It’s the only way you learn for yourself.”

“Alun passes his mobile.”

“Are you watching?”

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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