So what could I do but intensify my learning of German, to become a fluent and competent partner? I was doing ok too, for a dumb ex-cop. A teacher of Arabic came across from Austria for a few days at a time to teach her but she took over the German instruction of her husband. She was lovely; so patient, a born teacher. But it was difficult because we caressed a lot.
Soon, I overheard the Arabic bloke telling her he could teach her no more. Her further instruction should be by reading—the Quran for preference. This all brought me back to my assignment in Brisbane to develop harmonious relations with the Muslims, so we discussed that.
Tessa was disturbed by what she read in the Quran and shared my private belief that there was little room for Christians and Muslims to reach compromise. But we had to try.
And then events overtook us and we both had mixed feelings.
Tess had been making arrangements for us to go to Australia for a time, with David standing in as regent. He’d changed quite a lot, now that we’d cleaned up the administration of the Principality.
He was almost anxious to relieve Tessa, which puzzled me. He’d relinquished the throne, remember?
And then all was revealed.
His wife, Eva, was expecting a baby, and should David be the ruler, the child would become first in line. If not, then not. It seems a sort of rivalry had developed but not on Tessa’s part. She was glowing.
‘Would you mind if I handed over the throne to David, darling? Since we’ve been married and reunited, all I want is to be with you and enjoy life with you. Especially now. I don’t want to be a ruler. We could move between here and Australia and really enjoy each other. Would you mind?’
Her green eyes were anxious. I held her and said, ‘Deep down, Tessadonna, it’s what I hoped would happen eventually but I was willing to be with you whatever came about. Let David have it. I think it might be just what he needs.’
David couldn’t believe his luck. Gerhardt and his Judge did all the necessaries and here we were, at another coronation, smaller this time because he’d already been crowned once and coronation ceremonies were beginning to lose their novelty value. Hardly anyone stood in the street to welcome the new ruler.
Gerhardt, totally out of order but with a new confidence from his marriage to Sophie, drew me aside and suggested that Tessa and I should return frequently. The Wilbadens were still around and David had nowhere near the affection of the people that Tess and I had. I never told Tess.
We’d been packing and when the coronation feast was completed, Gerhardt and Sophie drove us to Vienna airport and we were Australia-bound. She was excited.
‘Australia is the country I love, darling, but Bassenburg will always be my loved birthplace.’
Then she snuggled in, meaning she had some news for me. A baby? Nope!
‘I hope you don’t mind but I took the liberty of contacting Gloria Stenlake of the Department of Foreign Affairs. Do you remember her?’
Oh, yes, I thought. I well remember Glorious Gloria and that wonderful night of love. Before Tessadonna, of course! But how did Tessa know her?
I asked.
‘She’s Gloria Blackburn now. When I was wrenched back to Bassenburg, after the snakebite, she accompanied us, to ensure I was ok. We talked of you.’
Whoops, there!
‘We need to have something useful to do in Australia, darling, so I asked her if she had anything for us. She got quite excited. She can get you a position in the Federal Police, at inspector level, if you pass all the tests, and I can be a translator in their monitoring section where they hack into unfriendlies. We’ll be in the same building and we’ll nearly be together except when we’re on different shifts. I can put up with that, if you can. I know I wanted no more Policeman but I’d rather that than a bored husband. It’s what you are, and I’ve always known that. Now, handsome, what do you think?’ She sat back very satisfied with herself.
I had reservations. The way things with the Jihadists were developing I would rather have my wife well away from any likely conflict. But she should be safe in a translation section, deep in the heart of the Federal Police Headquarters, she said. And my job would carry some interest and, perhaps, some excitement. Yep! It all had possibilities.
‘You’ve done well, little princess. Sounds good and we have our apartment again near our work. Not too much separation, I hope. We still have work to do in the bedroom.’
‘Perhaps a little separation might be what we need, Poppa? I’m so glad you approve. I’ve worried about this, and about you. Now, we can settle into our new home. And our first holiday far out, deep in the bush, please?’
****
I passed all the tests ok and was assigned to community relations, which was exactly the same job as I’d been doing for the Queensland Police before. I was unimpressed but gave it my best shot. Tessa was thrilled with her new job, her first ever, translating, and at last putting her skills to work. The shift thing didn’t intrude much and, often, we took our lunch to the nearby parklands, and were close, even if for just 30 minutes or so.
Yeah! It was all ok.
I renewed acquaintance with the Imam Al Hariq with whom I’d had dealings before my departure for Bassenburg du Mont. He welcomed me back happily and we began our discussions about Islam and Christianity in Australia, and Brisbane in particular. I had a gun but was careful never to wear it near any of these talks. Sometimes I did, if another assignment was the next call, but it was well concealed, especially from Tess.
I told him that it bothered me that Islam seemed not to offer any concessions to Infidels. You either believed in the Prophet, that is, were converted, or you had no place in their world. There was no means of living in harmony. This was not only my thinking, it was Tessa’s too and it bothered her.
He said, ‘We do not threaten those who do not threaten us. You are a kafir but one who faces reality. The caliphate is going to take over Australia. I don’t want it to, but it’s going to happen and then there will be a big war. You keep watch and you expect us to behave in certain ways. But you, Inspector Corrigan, are given a gun to use against criminals and Muslims, not Christians….’
‘….I would use it against anyone who does wrong, if I have to, sir. But it’s rarely happened.’
‘How can we see it otherwise when you move against our youth who merely want to go overseas to help in the fight against their ISIS enemies, and others. They are threatened with prison if they try to return to the country of their birth. They have not done anything against the Australian people. I once had the same belief that your government now has, but no longer. Too many of our young men are being killed or imprisoned in this country and even moderates like me are changing our stance. You need big changes, my friend, for your laudable goals to be reached. I want to control our fiery ones but they are fast leaving our control.’
I said, ‘Would you know if there were a big danger—a bomber? Would you warn us? Even if it meant that he might have to be killed to save other lives?’
He thought for a very long time. ‘We have some among us and we watch them all the time, I think just as your Police are doing. I hope you are better than us, so we don’t have to betray them.’
The Imam and I parted on that indecisive note. Really, I’d got nowhere. But I had to keep trying. Oh, for a simple murder to work on!
One day, visiting him, I was confronted by an angry young Muslim who began to spout the philosophies of his religion, with burning eyes and a threatening demeanour. He hated the Federal Police and was almost in my face. I could feel his spittle landing. The Imam tried to intervene but Sarat Harim pushed him away. I moved to protect the old man and Sarat lifted a fist. These young Muslims seemed to be permanently near hysteria.
This was not the way to go, so I just stood, staring into his glaring bloodshot eyes, but ready. Then he suddenly turned and walked out to the back of the Mosque.
The Imam was shaken. He said, ‘There is the most dangerous of all. He was waiting for you. He is bey
ond control. He has nothing but hate in his soul. Beware of him. Keep your home address secret, do not let your wife walk out of your house alone and be so very careful when moving around your home area. He will kill you.’
Great! What had my darling got us into?
That night I told her of the event, trying not to frighten her, but my princess was made of stern stuff and showed no fear.
‘Can you get me a gun, sir knight? You have one. Why not me? I can shoot. You’ve seen me.’
‘A rifle, out in the bush at a fleeing dingo, and you missed. Forget it, Annie Oakley!’
She held me tight. ‘Ah! But you got Mr. Dingo.’
‘I won’t always be there, my sweet!’
But we were both careful and watchful around the house, me particularly so, because I knew what he looked like and I knew what to watch for.
****
I continued my tour of mosques and, I think, was making some friends and, perhaps, confidants. I was called into the resident psychiatrist at Police headquarters and warned about getting too friendly and then, perhaps, identifying with them. I assured him of my objectivity.
That raised two things---I was being watched, and I was settling amongst them, as was my brief.
The friendliest Mosque that I found was close to the Federal Police Headquarters. Perhaps that’s why it was friendly---right under the eye of the enemy. But I enjoyed my visits there, like today.
I’d had a pleasant time with the Imam and a few of the elders, drinking coffee, and was heading back to headquarters, peace in my heart.
My mobile phone rang and it was a distressed Al Hariq.
‘Stay away from your headquarters, Bart! Sarat is bombed up and has a Police uniform.’
He was very excited, hysterical. ‘He is suicide bomber to take lots of Federal Police with him. I can’t get through. Warn everyone and protect yourself. He crazy and unstoppable.’
I cut him off and tried to call the Headquarters but they’d perhaps had some sort of warning too. They were apparently in blackout.
I started to run, skipping through the traffic. Tessa was all I could think of.
I reached the headquarters and flashed my Police pass and headed for the elevators. Tessa was on the fifth floor but the lifts seemed to have been shut down. I headed for the fire stairs, shouting to the security at the front desk, ‘Bomber in the building! Sound an alarm!’
They stared at me, stunned. Where did they get these dopes?
I was clearing the stairs two at a time and then three at a time and I was doing it well.
Tessa!!!!
I pushed open the fire stairs door and there he was, in a uniform, beardless but recognisable. He was standing in the corridor outside the doors to Tessa’s workplace. He turned to me in surprise.
I shouted, ‘Tessa!!! Get down! Hit the floor, darling!’
He was reaching inside his jacket and he faced the doors and moved towards them. I had my pistol out and shot him in the head. I saw the red splash and then a blast of fiery air hit me and lifted me off my feet.
25.
I was blinded.
A lot of times, as traumatic events are happening, the victim doesn’t remember anything, as with the car smash with the Cubans. I didn’t remember anything except running for the Police car.
But I swear that I saw my shot hit the Jihadist bomber and felt the gust of hot air lifting me off my feet. I was told that that was the blast of his bomb and that it moved me, at velocity, to thud back-first against the fire stairs door, which had already slammed shut behind me. It was a strong blast because the doors to Tessa’s section were bomb-proof. I’d copped the reflected blast but ironically, he’d shielded me from most of the shrapnel and the force in his single small bomb. It was surmised that he had a small shrapnel bomb because he intended to be among people. He was planning to be amongst the eavesdroppers, of which Tessa was one. My appearance forced his hand.
How he knew where to go, and where he got the uniform were all subjects of a big inquiry. But Tessa and I were not part of it.
I was slightly scorched—minor burns--- and had huge bruises on my back and arms, and my head had been knocked about.
But the main injury was that I was blinded.
We didn’t know that for quite a while, Tessa and I!
I had bandages on so, naturally, couldn’t see. But I suspected. I didn’t say anything to Tess. I just lay there absorbing the pain, despite the drugs, and let Tessa kiss me and whisper to me how much she loved me. I really couldn’t respond, although I was responding in my mind.
Then came the Day of the Removal of the Bandages. There were medical staff but Tessa, in charge, requested that only she should be present with the necessary doctors. No spectators. Dennis had visited, and departed.
They slowly unwrapped my eyes. I opened my eyes---and just darkness. No, not darkness, just a sort of blankness. Nothing was out there.
I said, ‘Sorry, Tessadonna!’ and she put her head gently on my chest. She felt so good.
The Princess took over and she began to cross-examine the doctors, hard. She was Her Royal Highness again. They responded courteously and frankly.
They’d do tests but at present had no idea what had caused it. The concussion, obviously, but scans had shown no damage in my head.
‘Time, Mrs. Corrigan. He needs time!’
‘I’ve got plenty of that,’ I said. ‘But I’m not encouraged by you blokes. I will see again. I guarantee it. But it will be me and my wife fighting this one. May we be alone, please?’
Then Tessa got up on the bed with me, her head on my shoulder and said, ‘Now, hear this, my darling. You will see again! You will! But now, it’s not Barton and Tessa. It’s BartonTessa—one person fighting this and living the life ahead. You haff…have, bugger it, HAVE been my stone before. Now I will be your stone, never moving from you.’
‘I think that’s rock, darling, not stone.’
She reared up, I think, and said, ‘Oh, you beautiful, beautiful person. You’re smiling… in all of this?’
‘They can only do to us what we let them do to us, Your Royal Highness. Try to get us home together as soon as possible, please. They don’t let you make love in this place.’
She leaned close, beautifully warm and sweet and said, ‘I’ll take you home and we’ll be together, always. It will be another honeymoon. I’ll be with you constantly and I’m going to learn from others how you can work with all of this and then I’m going to teach you. You have always been my life and now, you will be every second of my life. I’ll take you home tomorrow, darling.’
****
We went home to our unit and Tessa was in charge—boy! Was she in charge?
My lessons on living a self-sustaining life began almost immediately. No time for reflection on my bad luck; no time for self-pity; no spoon-feeding. Find your own way! I had this big stick and I had to find my own way around the apartment, tapping and feeling. I knew I was safe because she was with me in an instant if a hazardous situation loomed.
At times we went to the Blind Institute where we both received instruction on our particular roles in this situation.
From the apartment, down to the parklands and, after a while she sent me off to negotiate on my own—short walks and then long walks. I knew she was watching over me but it was still a bit testing.
Then came the great day when I left her sitting on a park bench, did a circuit of the big central lake, and arrived back to her. Once, in a big open space, I couldn’t find a marker, and she called, ‘Left, darling, and then ahead,’ and I found my way. A fair way away I could pick up her perfume and judged when I was near. I stopped and extended my arms with a big grin and I was enveloped in her arms.
‘That was a glory to see,’ said a lady nearby.
The dinner table, while perhaps the simplest, had the most hazards. Tessa insisted on serving red wine, despite all the dangers. I expressed some concern about this and all the damage that I’d cause if I knocked the glass
over.
‘Well then, darling,’ she said, very reasonably, ‘don’t knock it over!’
Professor Bostock had issued an invitation for me to attend lunch with him at his club. Women were not permitted so I was on my own, except for his unskilled supervision.
He was waiting when Tess dropped me off outside his club with a ‘Go, get ‘em, my Barton’. I felt alone. It was the first time without her.
Things went well. We had an excellent waitress and she cared for me as Tessa would have. When I was in doubt as to the correct implement she gently put it in my hand and then guided my hands to the plate. Without permission, she changed the red wine for white, chastising the Professor for his decision in that regard, although that was Tessa’s decision, not his. The young-sounding waitress was wonderful!
Tess collected me and demanded a full run-down on the event. I didn’t mention the wine.
Tessa and I worked out hard in the big gym in our block of units and my physical condition improved quickly. Then came the great day when she announced that all my bruising had healed.
‘No longer the blue and yellow man, sweetheart. And I had big plans to put you in a sideshow,’ said the unsympathetic highness.
And then she eased her restrictions on visitors. She’d worried over that, keeping all but the most favoured away. And, like drafting cattle through the gate into the stock-yard, she now allowed a few through at a time.
I enjoyed the visits and, while my wife mostly left us alone to talk, I knew she was always near, watching.
One day, I went out to our big balcony, overlooking the parklands, sat in the warm sun and just enjoyed the moment. My thoughts drifted to the time when the plump girl had flattened me into the mud, out in the bush, and I had come to love her. What had happened there? She was plump, with bad teeth but wonderful green eyes, rich honey-blonde hair, wonderful complexion and she was a person ready for love. And I was there.
The outer girl didn’t really count. It was the inner one with whom I fell in love, deeply. We’d had a wonderful marriage and love affair and now it was coming to me, sitting on the balcony, what an exceptional girl I had found and made mine.
The Princess and the Cop Page 17
