Christmas in Canberra

by Nicole Taylor

  Chris laughed. “Yeah, right.” He snapped shut the file. “See you there, then.” And he walked off purposefully.

  Louise turned to Vera, who had heard this short conversation. “Vera – you have to come to the happy hour with me.”

  “I didn’t know you went to those things, Louise,” Vera said. “I thought you avoided them like the plague!” Then Vera had a thought. “Or is this all part of your ‘getting to know Chris Hardy’ scheme?”

  “Oh, maybe. I normally don’t go simply because I don’t have a group to go with, and therefore I don’t have anyone to look out for me if I drink too much and start to get silly.”

  “Sensible girl. So, you want me to come along to be your minder, do you?”

  “Not just that. It would be nice to have a drink on a Friday night. We could go and have dinner in Civic afterwards.”

  Vera shook her head. “I can do the drink, but I have to be somewhere at seven o’clock.”

  “That’s plenty of time.”

  “I suppose it is,” Vera considered. “Okay – why not?”

  “Thanks, Vera.”

  “You have to invite me to the wedding, though.”

  “Ha ha.”

  “Let me just make a phone call, then we’ll go.” Vera was dialing the number as she spoke.

  Louise thought she might make a call, too. She called Jane. “Hi,” she said when Jane answered. “Will you be at home tonight?”

  “Yes,” said Jane.

  “I thought I might drop by.”

  “Oh. Could you bring some pies with you?”

  “Sure. How many?”

  “Six should do it. And could you pick up Marie on the way? Sam was going to get her but if you are coming anyway, you might as well do it.

  “No drama. See you at about seven then.”

  “Fine.”

  Louise hung up the phone and found Vera doing the same.

  “Synchronised telephoning!” said Vera. “We could start our own Olympic event!”

  The bar room at the Worker’s Club was abuzz with the happy hour chat of Tax Office employees when Vera and Louise arrived at 5.30. Stacey and George were drinking with a group of their fellow under-graduates, and Chris Hardy was sitting with Leonie Eaton, her husband and Chris’s good mate, Mark Eaton, and another guy from Audit, who was known only as ‘Barney’.

  “Vera,” Louise stopped Vera as they approached the bar, “is that guy’s name really Barney?” He was short and fair-haired. It seemed too ridiculous that he should actually look like Barney Rubble from ‘The Flintstones’ and have the same first name.

  Vera laughed. “No – of course it isn’t. But he always hangs around with Chris, and together they look like Fred and Barney. It’s a joke!”

  “That is hilarious,” admitted Louise. “Doesn’t he mind?”

  “He is an auditor for the Tax Office, Lou. I think he is more worried about having his car blown up by an irate taxpayer than what his workplace nickname.” Vera turned to the barman who was asking her what she wanted. “Two white wines, thanks,” she said. When they were handed to her, she gave one to Louise, who tried to hand her some money.

  “Put that away. You can get the next round.”

  They sipped their drinks and were pleased to see Leonie waving them over to her table. They immediately went over and allowed Mark to find them a couple of chairs.

  “Thank you, guys,” said Vera. Louise envied her confidence. She was a bit in awe of Leonie, and could never have spoken to her as an equal the way Vera so easily did. “You have rescued us. We were feeling a bit stranded up there at the bar.”

  “That’s what I thought,” said Leonie. She turned to Chris. “You aren’t really having a wet T-shirt competition, are you?” Chris smiled, shrugged and took refuge in his beer. “Because if you are, I am going to have to write you up for sexual harassment; creating a hostile social environment in a workplace situation and –” here she was interrupted by Chris. Leonie was a level higher than both Chris and her husband, and could do as she threatened. Louise was almost sure Leonie was joking but listened attentively just in case.

  “Keep your shirt on, Leonie,” said Chris. “And don’t knock it until you’ve tried it. Here -” and he indicated the stage where the curtain was being raised, revealing half a dozen wet T-shirts hanging on a clothes line.

  A loud groan and even louder laughter accompanied the clapping and whistling that followed. Louise laughed with everyone else at the table, and made eye contact with Chris, who winked at her.

  Chapter 5

  Louise parked her car on the sloping road outside Jane’s house, pulling hard on the hand brake. She noticed James’s car parked behind Sam’s utility truck on the steep driveway, and thought how trusting he was.

  “No way I’d park behind anyone on that slope!” she said to Marie, who was unbuckling her seatbelt. “Remember when Michael left the handbrake off, and his new Commodore rolled down the drive and into a car parked on the opposite side of the road?”

  Marie laughed. “Michael wasn’t too worried,” she reminded Louise. “It was a work car. He didn’t have to pay for it.”

  The sisters climbed the driveway, and then the stairs, to Jane’s front door. They rang the doorbell, and entered when someone called out “Come in”.

  Jane’s two children, Jeremy and Emily, rushed out to meet Aunty Marie who had, as usual, brought them each a small gift. They said hello to Aunty Louise, but didn’t expect her to have anything for them. Louise marveled at the way Marie not only remembered to bring the kids something every time she visited Jane, but knew what to get them. Louise had no idea what little kids liked, and no interest in finding out. She loved her niece and nephew and always got them something worthwhile at Christmas and on their birthdays, but beyond that, Louise was not a hands-on aunty. That was Marie’s territory and Louise was happy to have no such expectations placed on her.

  “Hi there,” Jane said, as she lifted a batch of spinach and cheese triangles out of the oven. “Did you bring the pies?”

  “Yep – sure did!” Louise handed Jane a paper bag full of almost hot meat pies.

  “How much do I owe you?” asked Jane, straight-faced.

  “Don’t worry about it,” said Louise, surprised at the question. The pies were a meagre contribution to the food Jane always provided. Louise was suddenly aware that she ate at Jane’s too often; and only brought food with her when asked. She also realised that she never brought wine with her, either. “Ouch,” she thought.

  “Look, I’ll be back in a minute. I’ve forgotten something.” Louise hastily made her way to the door but was stopped by James.

  “Lulu, are you going to the shop?” he asked. When she nodded, he asked “Can I come?”

  “Sure, Bud. Let’s go.”

  As they buckled their seat belts, James spoke. “I wanted to grab you alone. Remember I wanted to talk to you about something?”

  “Yes. What is it?”

  James sighed. “I just need some advice. You know how Michael wants to open his own printing business?”

  Louise had heard about this many times. It had been a dream of Michael’s ever since he had started his apprenticeship, about ten years ago. “Yes,” she said.

  “Well, Dick Kelly, the guy who runs the leasing company that all the printers lease their equipment through, offered him a four colour Heidelberg printer for a really good price. Second hand.”

  Louise had heard Michael speak of Dick Kelly. It was difficult for a printer to get a business going on his own because the printing presses were prohibitively expensive, and the machines were being constantly updated due to the inclusion of computerized functions and better features. No sooner had the printer made the first year’s payments on a 5 year lease than his press was outdated and useless. No one wanted the old technology when there were plenty of new printing presses being operated in the bigger printshops.

  But a four colour Heidelberg was the Rolls Royce of printing presses and it would b
e unheard of to require a better product than the finished print from one of these machines. To print every colour of the rainbow, just four colours were required, hence the name. And the Heidleberg printed on any paper quality. Louise understood why Michael was tempted.

  But she was curious. “So, why did Dick Kelly want to sell it?”

  “Well, it’s a default case. Reece Jones had leased it new and couldn’t make the payments.”

  It was a familiar tale. Canberra was still a small city, with fewer than 200,000 people, and each industry was like a private club. Every printer knew every other printer; what sort of presses they operated; where they got their work; and how successful they were. Instead of forming a group and organizing a bit of healthy collusion and price fixing, so that everyone made a profit and no one went broke, each printer tried to out-bid his competitors. This resulted in printing jobs being under-quoted and often a printer made a loss, just to stop another printer getting the client. But the clients were fickle, too, and regularly played different print-shops off against one another. Given the enormous capital costs and the dog-eat-dog climate of the local industry, Louise had been relieved that Michael was unable to fund the investment required to start his own operation. He was much better off being the well-paid manager of a large printing company than the sole proprietor of a backyard print shop beleaguered by debt.

  “So,” Louise was thinking out loud, “Reece goes broke, Dick repossesses the press and offers it to Michael. Let’s see – that machine was worth $400,000 new, two years ago. Reece has been working it since then. If the life of the machine is calculated in units of output and –“ Louise started calculating the depreciated value of the press.

  But James stopped her. “No, no. That’s not the problem.” James paused, clearly uncomfortable. “Michael went for it – he signed the lease.”

  “Lease?” Louise was confused. They had now arrived at the shops and Louise had parked the car. She turned to James as she unfastened her seatbelt. “Why would Michael lease a second-hand machine when he can just as easily lease a new one?”

  James sighed in frustration. “Well, Michael couldn’t lease a new one because he has a bad credit rating, doesn’t he?” James looked down, and continued to explain. “He could only lease a second hand one – it was all Dick would offer him.”

  “Good old Dick.”

  “And the only way he would even let Michael have a lease on this machine was if someone went guarantor for him.”

  Louise looked closely at James. “James – tell me you didn’t go guarantor for Michael.

  “No,” said James.

  “Thank God,” said Louise, relieved.

  “We signed a partnership agreement –”

  “You did what?”

  James was defending himself now. “Michael said it was better if we became partners, because then he wouldn’t need a guarantor and I would be able to share in the profits he made from the Heidelberg.”

  “James!” Louise was visibly upset. “You signed a partnership agreement with Michael? Did you read it first?” She asked the question before she could stop herself.

  James shot a look of anger and pain at her. “What do you think?” he asked bitterly.

  “Oh, Bud, what were you thinking?”

  “I was thinking I could help my brother and I might even make some money too,” James explained.

  “Well, hello – are we talking about Michael Keats here? Have you ever heard of anyone making any money from going into business with Michael? I’ve heard of plenty of people kissing large sums of money good-bye that way, but never have I heard of anyone making any money – not even Michael himself!” Louise stopped her tirade and tried to calm down. “So, let me guess. Now you are liable for the debt on the press, because Michael has defaulted on the lease, too, and he has no money.”

  “That’s what Michael and Dick say,” agreed James, almost relieved to know that at least Louise understood the facts. “But I only signed a partnership agreement – I didn’t sign the lease agreement.” James turned to her, hoping that this information was going to redeem him in Louise’s eyes.

  “It doesn’t matter, Bud,” Louise said quietly. “Each and every partner is liable for the debts of the partnership. All the partnership agreement really does is stipulate each partner’s percentage share of the profit – if there is a profit.”

  “So, by signing the partnership agreement, I might as well have signed the lease?”

  “That’s right.”

  “Fuck.”

  “I wish you had asked my advice before you signed the partnership agreement, James.”

  James shook his head.

  Louise got out of the car. “I’ll be back in a minute. I just have to get some wine for dinner.” She closed the door and walked into the shop, leaving James to follow her or not.

  The crisp night air was medicinal and Louise entered the store with a slightly clearer head. She counselled herself not to get emotionally involved in her brother’s problem. That wouldn’t help her – or James – at all.

  The store was very brightly lit and held an enormous assortment of various alcoholic beverages. Louise chose a bottle of Seaview Brut champagne, her favourite; then, remembering that Jane preferred Asti Spumante, made the exchange. “It’s going to take a bit of practice, but I can be thoughtful, too,” she smiled to herself.

  When she got to the register, James was chatting to Christy who worked there. Christy was a bit younger than James, very pretty and quite overweight. Louise noticed how her eyes sparkled as she joked with James. Christy blushed as Louise approached, and Louise noticed that James was standing up straight and looking very pleased. Had they not been late for dinner, Louise would have tried to prolong the shopping trip for their benefit.

  “Sorry to break things up, kids,” Louise joked, “but we have to get going. They might be needing this up at the fort.” And she held the bottle up for them to see.

  Christy sold the wine to Louise and wrapped it in a paper bag. “Thanks,” she said to Louise in a small voice. “Bye, James,” she smiled at him.

  “Catch you later, Christy,” James waved as he held the shop door open for Louise.

  When they were in the car, Louise commented “She’s nice.”

  “Yeah,” he agreed.

  “And she seems to like you.”

  “What’s not to like?”

  Louise rolled her eyes and drove away while James laughed at her.

  When they got out of the car at Jane’s, James turned to Louise and said “Don’t tell anyone about the partnership thing – not even Mum.”

  “Why not?” Louise wondered what difference it could possibly make. Perhaps their parents could help.

  “Just don’t, okay?’ James was quite definite. “I need time to sort it out and I don’t want anyone else to get involved.”

  Louise worried that there was more to this than he had confided in her, but didn’t want to ruin the evening.

  “Okay,” she agreed.

  When Louise showed Jane her purchase, Jane was non-committal in her response. She raised her eyebrows in recognition of her favourite wine and said “Put it over there – on the bench.” Jane obeyed, only to find another bottle of the same wine already there. “Too little, too late,” she thought, as she set her contribution down.

  Marie called to Louise from across the room. “Hey, Louise – get me a drink, too, while you are there.

  Louise turned to Jane. “Do you want one?”

  “Yeah – why not?” Jane answered, a little stiffly, Louise thought. “Bring it to the table, would you? Dinner’s ready.”

  They all sat down at the large formal dining table in the next room. Jane and Sam sat at either end, each with a child at the corner adjacent to them. Marie, James and Louise sat in the available spaces and the meal began.

  “We can’t have a late night tonight,” warned Jane. “I have to be up early tomorrow morning.”

  “Why?” asked Louise. Tomorrow was Sa
turday, and Jane normally slept quite late on the weekends.

  “I’m helping Roxanne choose some plants for her garden,” answered Jane. “We are going out to the Pialligo nursery, to see if they have what she wants.”

  “Oh.” Louise had no idea what to say to that. Gardening, like children, were subjects beyond her ken.

  “Nothing that could possibly interest you, Louise,” Jane wore a hard smile. “Anyway, what are you doing here? I thought you’d be out with your single friends.”

  “Just felt like giving it a miss tonight,” said Louise. “You can’t show up every Friday – it takes away the mystery!”

  “Does it? I wouldn’t know,” said Jane.

  “Well, you haven’t missed much,” Louise was purposefully ignoring the unfriendly overtones of her sister’s comments, hoping to shift her attitude and engage her in a proper chat. “You were fortunate enough to find your husband early on, so you were spared all of this “single scene” carry-on.”

  “What about me?” Marie was bored with the conversation. “I’m single too.”

  “I meant to ask you,” Jane spoke in a lighter tone to Marie. “Has Tim Cotter called you?”

  Tim Cotter was a professional basketball player for the Canberra Canons. Michael and Roxanne were avid Cannons fans and both played basketball competitively. Michael had befriended Tim and introduced him to the extended family. Marie was smitten with him, but so far had made little progress romantically.

  “No,” Marie answered glumly. “I’m going to give him till tomorrow afternoon to call me, and then I’m going to call him.”

  “Don’t bother,” said Jane between mouthfuls. “He is throwing a BBQ tomorrow, starting at 3pm. He asked me to invite you.”

  “Me, too?” asked Louise.

  Jane shrugged. “Roxanne and Michael will be there.”

  “So?” asked Louise. “I don’t care.”

  “Huh!” said Jane. “You mightn’t, but Roxanne will.”

  “Why?”

  “Because,” said Jane in an exasperated tone, “she doesn’t like you.”