by Patrick Ford
Not all the girls were available. The patriarchs of the Greek families kept their daughters well hidden. There would be no uncivilised Australian husbands for them! The various churches held sway as well in an age before personal freedom and the advent of female contraceptives. Most would not risk hellfire for the sake of a few minutes’ pleasure. Virginity was a precious commodity. How else could a girl first attract and then trap a decent husband?
* * * *
Amy O’Neil was the daughter of one of the local bank managers. Jack met her at a church dance and was impressed with her maturity. She seemed to be more sophisticated than other girls. She had come from Brisbane when her father transferred to the bush. She was eighteen years old and had seen a lot more of life than the others, especially Jack Riordan.
Amy suggested they take a walk half way through the dance. Jack wasn’t so sure about that. His mother was in town and had arranged to pick him up when the dance finished. What if she came early to chat with friends and watch the dancing? She would notice he was missing and there would be serious questions to answer.
Helen always knew when Jack was lying. Nonetheless, they slipped out into the warm summer night. The heat of the day had ebbed away, leaving a gentle cool breeze coming off the river. Amy took Jack by the hand. At her touch, he felt a fizz of excitement surge through his groin. They soon reached the riverbank where there was a gentle descent to a small beach popular with the local fishermen and well screened from the street by a thicket of wild sunflowers.
For a moment, Jack hesitated, but Amy moved up to him and gently kissed his mouth. She pressed close to him and he could feel her softness along the length of his body. Her soft breasts pushed against him. He could feel her erect nipples and realised with a thrill that she wore no bra. She kissed him harder, hungrily, her tongue exploring his mouth. He replied in kind as they slipped to the soft grass.
She leaned over him, pulling down the straps of her dress, exposing her breasts to his eager lips. As he took her in his mouth, she began to moan softly. Her hands raced over his body unfastening his clothing, stroking his chest and stomach, moving ever nearer to his throbbing groin. He could feel his erection threatening to burst through his trousers. So did Amy; in one swift motion, she stood up and stepped out of her dress, revealing her smooth stomach and a pair of tiny white panties. She discarded these with one hand then she tugged his pants down below his knees with the other. For a moment, she stood proud and tall in the soft moonlight then knelt down beside him and began to stroke him. He ran his hand up her legs to her soft inner thighs; she moaned again and spread her legs. Jack found the mound of tawny gold hair and the warm, wet, slippery folds of her sex. She gasped loudly and rolled to straddle him. For a moment, he felt himself push at her, then plunge into her sweet warmth.
Amy rode him, grinding against him until he came in a great rush. Amy was crying out, “Oh, God. Oh, yes, Ooooo…yes!” He could feel her contracting around him as her orgasm took control. Afterwards, they lay together. He could feel her sticky wetness against his thigh. She looked tenderly at him. “That was your first time, wasn’t it?” she said, with a secret smile. “Never mind, it happens to us all eventually. You were good for a first timer. I’ll have to teach you all I know.”
She stood up and ran down to the water, slipping in until only her shoulders showed. “Come on in,” she said. “The water is nice and we need to clean up.” Jack joined her in the wonderfully cool water and began to wash himself down. Amy swam over to him and put her arms around his neck. She began to rub herself against him and he felt his erection stirring. Amy began to kiss him again; she ran a hand down his body and took his penis in it, stroking it gently until it was rock-hard. She slipped down a little further, then, placing her arms around his neck again, she locked her legs around his waist and took him inside her. This time it was slower and not so urgent for Jack. Amy came in a murmuring rush of words. “Oh, I need, I want, Oh, God, I want it.” She came to a shuddering climax.
As they walked back to the school dance hall, Jack looked for the first time at his watch. “Shit,” he said. “I’m half an hour late. Mum will kill me!”
Amy smiled. “Why don’t you blame me?” she replied. “Anyway I want to meet your mother.”
“Not now. She’ll guess what we’ve been doing.”
Amy, undeterred, followed Jack to the car where Helen stood waiting. “Where have you been, Jack? You should have been here long ago. Dad will be waiting for us. And who is this?” said Helen, looking Amy up and down.
“Hello, Mrs. Riordan,” said Amy with a knowing smile. “It’s so nice to meet you. Jack and I have hit it off really well. I’m Amy O’Neil. My Dad is relieving manager at the National Bank. I believe you have your account there.”
Helen said, “Nice to meet you, Amy, now we must be on our way. Can I give you a lift?”
“No, thanks,” she replied, “It’s only a short way. Goodnight, Jack, thanks for the walk.” She gave him a prim handshake, turned on her heel and walked away.
Helen looked at Jack suspiciously. “What have you been up to, my boy?” she asked. “That girl is a bit too saucy for her own good. I’d watch that one if I was you.”
For the rest of the summer, Jack and Amy took every chance to meet and make love. She gently taught him things he hadn’t believed possible, teaching him all he needed to know to pleasure her. The things she could do with her lovely body knew no bounds. As February approached, Jack prepared for his last year at school. He drove into town for one last visit to Amy.
“Let’s make this one special,” she said; and she did. Jack said he couldn’t wait for the school holidays to come. “I won’t be here,” said Amy. “Dad’s being transferred back to Brisbane.”
“I can come to Brisbane, if I have to,” said Jack. “I can get the train.”
“I don’t think so, honey,” said Amy. “I guess it’s all over now. It was fun while it lasted, but all good things end. At least you’ll know all the right moves when the next girl comes around.” She gave him a chaste kiss on the cheek, and with a cheery wave, walked away.
Jack never saw her again.
San Diego, California, USA—1963
Captain John Ernshaw, master of the SS Golden Ray, stood on the bridge wing and surveyed San Diego harbour. This was a busy place, filled with the blaring horns of tugboats and the bustle of cross-bay traffic. Over there were the Marine Base and Naval Air Station, and several troopships lay alongside. Recently, there had been an increase in activity at both establishments.
Ernshaw was a spare man with iron-grey hair and a military bearing. The four gold rings on his jacket sleeves showed the tarnish of many years at sea. On his left breast, he wore the blue and white ribbon of the Distinguished Service Cross along with a row of service ribbons, prominent amongst them the Atlantic Star. The DSC had been awarded for gallantry in 1941, when he had driven off a U-boat pack, sinking one and ramming a second, resulting in a large number of prisoners and most of the boat’s codebooks being hauled aboard.
John Ernshaw was a humble man and credited his destroyer HMS Cutlass and its crew with the award as much as himself. If asked about the decoration, he usually said it was for a ‘bit of a muddle in the North Sea.’ They gave it to the wrong chap and couldn’t take it back.”
SS Golden Ray was a passenger cargo ship of around twenty-thousand tons displacement, driven by two oil-fired steam turbines capable of a cruising speed of eighteen knots. It was being fitted with stabilisers. A smooth ship in most weather conditions, she could accommodate eight passengers. There was not much call for berths right now: bigger and faster aircraft had taken much of the international passenger traffic. This is why the Captain was waiting for his five passengers with great curiosity. It was unusual for five members of the one family to travel together.
Captain Ernshaw had received a phone call from the ship’s agents a week ago. The passengers were arriving by train today. There was notification that one of the passengers m
ay need some special medical attention, and they provided details to Golden Ray’s surgeon, along with a list of medications required on board for the voyage. His information was that two of the passengers were attractive young women and that his crew was to be on its best behaviour. Ernshaw grunted at that. If any of his Jolly Jack Tars took liberties he would keelhaul them, and they knew it.
* * * *
The objects of Captain Ernshaw’s curiosity had been planning for a couple of months by the time he received his phone call. Jimmy and Marci had talked their respective heads off after he had recovered from his devastating visit to the hospital. “Marci,” Jimmy had said, “we have to face this head on and make the most of what we have while we still can. I have a few ideas, myself, but you have to decide first what you want to do. You have to face the prospect of being tied to an invalid for a few years, and following me like that girl in the Bible. You know, ‘Whither thou goest, so doth I’ or something like that. I have some unusual requests to put to you all, and I don’t want you to be tied down.”
“You mean Ruth,” said Marci, “and if you think I would abandon you, you haven’t learnt much in the last eighteen years.” He gazed into those brown eyes again. His heart swelled with love. He felt very humble in her presence, and, for the umpteenth time, thanked God for bringing her into his life.
“Okay,” he said, “this is what I want to do. Firstly, I would like to show you and the kids a little more of our great country. I am sure that the experience will be better than any school education, at least in the short term. Then I would like to take them on a voyage to a foreign country, again for the experience. Perhaps we could even live abroad for a short time. Secondly, I want to keep my condition from the children. I don’t want to spoil this experience by having them all weepy and sad.”
“I think Susan knows,” replied Marci, “She has said nothing but she sometimes looks at you in a wistful way. I think she senses that the younger two do not need this burden right now. I will do whatever you want, my love, to see you enjoy your last years. There will be plenty of time to mourn when you are gone.”
The family conferences that followed were long and convoluted. Finally, the prospect of a year away from school was too tempting for Sarah and James Junior. Susan had graduated from Las Lunas High and was planning for college. She thought it would be good to have a year off study, especially if travel was involved. They decided they would like to see the Mountain States, the Grand Canyon, Yellowstone Park, California and the Pacific coast. Jimmy wanted to return to his roots in Montana to see the country of his youth, and pay his last respects to his long dead parents. Moreover, he had a private trip planned to Washington, to visit Arlington and some of his shipmates who had already departed this world. Marci was pleased with the progress they had made. She had come to like the idea of getting the kids out of school for a while, especially Sarah, whose attachments to her beaus were beginning to look dangerous to her.
Jimmy had to tell Bob Phillips what had happened and what he was proposing to do. Bob and the Directors were genuinely sympathetic, and offered him as much help as he needed. They gave him a generous severance payment. Jimmy had not been to his office since that fateful day at the hospital. Now he returned one last time to tidy up his affairs. Margaret greeted him, tears in her eyes. He told her of his plans, but admitted he was unsure of the overseas destination.
The Master Sergeant did not hesitate. “Australia,” she said with some authority. “I was there during the war. It is a lovely place with a relaxed attitude to life. I saw some of their soldiers in New Guinea. They were the bravest men I ever saw, tough and self-reliant. They didn’t like U.S. officers much, though.” Jimmy was sympathetic; he and the other seamen hadn’t liked officers much either.
A week or so later, he was invited by a friend to attend a Rotary Club dinner and was surprised to find two visiting Australian Rotarians there. They proved to be friendly and garrulous and Jimmy took a liking to them immediately. He asked about where to go in Australia.
“Brisbane, mate; fair dinkum, it’s the best city in the world. Best beer, too.”
“Bloody oath, mate,” said his compatriot. You can’t go wrong with Brissie.”
Therefore, the Baker family—after a long last look at their country—entrained for San Diego to begin the adventure of their lives.
* * * *
There was activity on the wharf below. Captain Ernshaw looked down and saw a taxi come to a halt near the gangway. The cabbie began to haul a seemingly endless array of luggage onto the dock. He called to his Second Officer, “Peter, take a couple of our chaps down and help our guests embark. Smack it about now.”
The Second Officer departed at the double, and soon the passengers and their luggage were aboard. Ernshaw noticed the last to board was the father of the family. He paused at the head of the gangway and snapped a smart salute to the quarterdeck and the Red Ensign on the taffrail.
Hmm, thought the Captain, an old seafarer for company. Should be jolly interesting.
In the passenger accommodation, the Bakers sorted themselves into their allocated cabins. With eight cabins, there was room for all, and more to spare. Jimmy and Marci took the larger stateroom, while the three others each occupied a single berth. James Junior could not believe he had a separate bathroom. How wonderful it would be—no more trawling through the endless female clutter of powders, potions, lipsticks, hair dryers, curlers and other things, the purpose of which he could only imagine. A knock on the cabin door interrupted Jimmy and Marci. Jimmy opened it to a smart looking seaman.
“Beggin’ yer pardon, sir. Skipper says oop to smokin’ room for drinks afore dinner.” Jimmy thanked him. On his last ship, it was Jimmy running such errands. How about that?
The Captain was courtesy personified. He greeted his passengers and soon they were settled into comfortable chairs. Ernshaw looked at Jimmy. “You were a sailor?”
“Yes sir,” said Jimmy, “I spent most of the war on convoy escort duty in the Atlantic.”
“By Jove,” said Ernshaw, “so did I. We must get together and talk over old times. Now we must not bore the others with old war stories. Let me tell you about our voyage. We’ll be stopping over in Hawaii, Fiji, and Auckland before we finally dock in Brisbane. It will take about eight weeks, so relax, and enjoy the cruise. You will have about three days shore time in each port while we load and provision. I believe you have been ill, Mr. Baker. I hope the salt air will return you to good health. Well, duty calls. Anything you need, just ask one of the crew. Our Second Officer, Peter Lewis, will be directly responsible for your comfort. Make sure he complies, yes?”
The Bakers went in for their first meal of the voyage. “Dad,” said James Junior, looking at the silver service, “were the meals like this in the Navy?”
Jimmy smiled at his family. “Only for the Admirals,” he said.
Meanwhile, a small item buried in the newspapers reported the deaths of three U.S. military advisors in a small country in Indochina. Most people did not see it. Those who did thought nothing of it.
Goondiwindi, Queensland, Australia—1963
Helen Riordan had been worrying about her children to no avail. With the departure of Amy O’Neil, Helen had breathed a sigh of relief. Her contacts in the bank had informed her that Amy and her family were gone for good. She had been convinced that Jack had been doing more than kissing Amy, but as the weeks went by, her worries faded away.
She had discovered that Denni was determined to go to Queensland University in Brisbane to study science, and had convinced Paddy of the value of this move. “She’ll have to live in one of the Colleges,” he said, “I’ll not have her sharing a house or flat with a pack of deadbeats.”
Paddy had taken umbrage at what he called dirty unshaven lefties who adorned the front pages of the papers recently. “How come they can spend all day doing that sort of thing? Shouldn’t they be studying?” The student unrest that had first emerged in Europe and then America was beginnin
g to stir in Australia. He didn’t want his daughter mixing with pot smoking hippies, as the papers described them.
They made no decision about Jack. Paddy wanted him home as soon as possible, and while he was ready to talk about further education, he was adamant that his son was not going to the army. “Not even as a General,” he would say. One of his drinking mates, a veteran of World War Two and Korea, joked with him that Jack was too smart to be a General. Paddy’s normal good humour deserted him. “Oh, shut your bloody trap, Alf. I don’t want to talk about any army, not even the bloody Salvation Army!” This was not an isolated incident. Helen had noticed Paddy was more often than not in a bad mood. She put it down to the pressure of the children’s future and the lack of recent rain. Then he began to complain of indigestion, refusing to eat Helen’s famous lamb curry, a special favourite of his. Finally, Helen confronted him over his health. “Paddy, I’ve made an appointment with Dr. Thomas for you on Tuesday to sort out this indigestion thing. I think it’s time to do so,” she said.
“Don’t be bloody silly, woman,” he said. “There’s nothing wrong with me that a couple of inches of bloody rain won’t fix. Anyway, I think I’m busy on Tuesday.”
Nevertheless, Helen prevailed, as he had known she would, and the next Tuesday found them in Doctor Thomas’ surgery. Thomas listened to Helen’s description of the symptoms then took some blood for testing. He listened to Paddy’s heart, but noticed no irregularities. Finally, he said, “I think you may have a stomach ulcer. Drink plenty of milk, avoid spicy foods and take this medication. I’ll have your test results soon and we can review the situation then.”
Paddy hated milk. “I was weaned more than fifty bloody years ago. Does he think I am a bloody baby?”
