Life Goes On by Tayell, Frank (large ebook reader txt) 📗

“It’s primarily for entertaining, not for living,” Bianca said. “I won’t say whom he was entertaining, but he was happy if I stayed away.”

“What a ratbag,” Elaina said.

“Oh, he’s not all bad.”

“Your husband is Cam, and the son’s Ron, yes?” Tess asked as she got out of the car.

“Cameron Constantine Clague,” Bianca said. “My husband is the fifth, and my son is the sixth. He made it clear what our child’s name would be on our first date.”

“Strewth, Bee, and you still went out on a second?” Elaina asked.

“I was young. He was rich,” Bianca said wistfully. “I thought I was in love.”

It was a small house on a large plot. Cubist in design, with a box hedge to provide privacy, but with a new, almost-complete, wood fence behind. Through the gaps, on what had been lawn, were a quartet of camper vans. On the roof of one was a night-time sentry.

“Police!” Tess called up to the guard. “We’re looking for Cameron Clague.” Deliberately ignoring the shouted query from the sentry, Tess inspected the neighbouring properties. It was a suburb of large gardens, thick hedges, and tall fences, but was already losing its air of affluence. Every garden, front, side, and back, had gained a vehicle or two. Not for transport, but overspill accommodation for the surge in refugees. But missing here, and common elsewhere, were community checkpoints and local roadblocks. Each of these houses had become an island unto itself.

“Lights,” Bianca said.

They’d come on in the house, a bright searchlight glow, from which a separate beam detached itself and came over to the gate.

“Who’s there?” a man growled.

“Cam, it’s Bee.”

“Bianca? What do you want?”

“To talk,” Bianca said. “Can I speak to Ronnie?”

“It’s all right, Diego,” Cameron said. “It’s only my ex-wife.”

“Who’s there with you?” Bianca asked.

“I hired some new staff,” Cameron said. “You know my motto, expand or die.”

“Can you open the gate?” Bianca asked.

“Wouldn’t be safe, would it?” Cameron said. “Got to think of other people, don’t we, Bianca?”

“Well, can you call Ronnie, ask him to come down?” Bianca asked.

“Not at this time of night,” Cameron said. “Why are you here?”

“To speak to my son, Cam!” Bianca said. “My unit’s leaving Canberra for a while. I don’t know when I’ll be back.”

“Your unit? So you still think you’re a soldier, do you? You picked your team, so you better play on until the whistle.” On the other side of the wall, the light went out.

“Cam?” Bianca said. “Cam!”

He didn’t reply, letting his feet do the talking as they squeaked across the driveway and back to the house.

“I’ve got some chains in the truck,” Elaina said. “We could pull down the gate.”

“That wouldn’t help,” Bianca said.

“It’d make you feel better,” Elaina said.

“No, I don’t think it would,” Bianca said.

“Well, tell him how you helped stop the coup,” Elaina said. “Tell him you’re working for the government.”

“Oh, he’d love to hear that,” Bianca said. “He’d switch to champagne and roses if he thought I could get him a meeting with Mr Owen. But that’s not what I want.”

“Window, upstairs,” Tess said.

In the upper corner of the house, a flashlight shone through a closed window of a dark room.

Bianca raised a hand. “Love you, Ronnie!” she called.

The torch blinked on, off, on off.

Bianca waved. “I love you,” she whispered. “Let’s go.”

Wordlessly, they got into the car, and drove back to the airport.

15th March

Chapter 5 - The Taste of a Dollar

Perth, Australia

“Good morning, Commissioner,” Teegan Toppley said.

“Can’t be,” Tess said, reluctantly opening an eye. “It’s still bat-dark outside.”

“It’s two a.m. Truly the best part of the morning, when the police are asleep,” Teegan said. “Thus it grated against every grain of my soul to wake you, but our plane is almost ready to leave.”

Tess pulled herself up. “Two whole hours of sleep? Luxury. You’re still in uniform. Couldn’t you find any civilian clothes?”

“Suits are being pieced together out of the emergency uniforms the air-stewards left behind. But I’m not joining the goodwill tour. I’m coming with you.”

“You are? Why?” Tess asked.

“For the same reason Dan Blaze is pushing the deputy prime minister’s wheelchair,” Toppley said. “I am a recognisable figure, universally known to have been sentenced to a term in prison. I can’t be seen to now be in government.”

“Working for the government,” Tess said. “But that’s a fair point.”

Anna Dodson, Leo Smilovitz, Bruce Hawker, and Mick Dodson were waiting downstairs.

“I feel like I’m late for a funeral,” Tess said.

“A court martial,” Colonel Hawker said. “Not yours,” he added, handing her a mug of coffee.

“Your pilot’s drunk, Tess,” Mick said. “It’ll be a day before he’s sober enough to drive, but he’ll never fly again if I have my way.”

“Where are the other pilots?” Tess said. “There were dozens here a few days ago.”

“Idle hands still need feeding,” Mick said. “Rule-twelve, that is.”

“It’s at least number fifty-three,” Tess said.

“Rule-nine-million-and-twelve by my count,” Anna said. “Ms Nguyen allocated the pilots to the driving pool. We thought that was a good way of ensuring we always knew where they were. Except, now, half are driving trucks and buses filled with buckets of flour, individually wrapped eggs, and beer-bottles of milk to the refugee camps in the east. The other half are ferrying generators and every empty tanker truck we could find to fill up at the refinery. But since yours is a one-way flight, I’m going to start my inspection in Perth, and we’ll all fly there together.”

“Don’t say one-way,” Tess said. “Where’s the rest of my team?”

“Swapping the cargo,” Hawker said. “We’ve got a supply of M4-carbines and ammunition for the Army Rangers, in case any are without,