Morning. The tv is blaring, the cat is mewling and the sun is high through the grimy kitchen window. Fridge and Desiree are stretched out in a tangle on the couch. Her toes are wriggling in his face and finally he wakes up with a start, blinks into the blinding sun through the grimy high window, pulls a face at Desiree’s pretty painted toes, then swats them away in rather ungentlemanly fashion.
The morning tv news is shrill with stories of a string of mysterious bushfires along the Newell and Sturt highways. Police believe they may be linked to the two so-called “Covid Bandits” who dumped a poor battered girl, the only daughter of a Mosman real estate tycoon, in the middle of a country road and then sped away. The Chinese embassy has been contacted to confirm or deny rumours one of the so-called “Covid Bandits” is a former Chinese operative gone rogue. Moonlight Casino has confirmed that there was an incident involving a young boy and an older man in their VIP lounge a month ago but declined to give further details as the matter is ongoing.
Fridge: Hey cat! (Struggles to untangle himself from Desiree’s long legs. Her phone keeps pipping every minute or so. He picks it up off the table, glances at it, glances at the tv, then gives up on both.)
As Fridge is fiddling with the coffee maker he glances out the kitchen window and notices a number of police cars with flashing lights parked all over the place both sides of the street. A constable is unravelling a scroll of blue tape across the street right outside his house. Fridge’s phone rings on the glass coffee table right by Desiree’s head, causing her to neigh like a pit pony. He manages to stub a toe rushing over to answer it.
Larry: How you travelling mate?
Fridge: (Sensing more bad news) Fit as a fiddle Larry. Everything OK?
Larry: Slow mate. Got a crew coming over to delouse your car this morning. Just leave it unlocked. They won’t take long.
Fridge: Yeah, you might wanna call a rain check on that mate. I’ve got a whole lot of cops taping off the street right outside. Just woke up, so no idea what it’s about...
Larry: Just woke up? It’s past eleven mate! You been in fucking iso too long. Fuck me, you’re like a magnet for flies.
Fridge: (Wincing at his phone). Is that even a thing, Larry?
Larry: You sound like shit...you sure you’re right to go back to work?
Fridge: Yeah...sampled a bit of Stavros’ ouzo, that’s all....alot of Stavros’ ouzo. (Glances over at a snoring Desiree making all sorts of weird faces in her sleep).
Larry: Well good on you, mate....Stavros will be dancing his fucking Zorba the Greek thing somewhere.....sorry about my little display the other day...I hope Mel -
Fridge: Mel loves you Larry....
Larry: She’s a good kid...
Fridge: Don’t I know it....
Larry: She better? You know Derek’s in a bad way...
Fridge: Shit...on the cards though wasn’t it...You OK mate?
Larry: Take a silver bullet to kill me, Fridge. So I cancel the delousing thing, you reckon?
Fridge: (Walking over to the kitchen window and taking another look. There seem to be more police cars now, as well as a forensic van and his favourite detective making straight for his door). Yeah, getting pretty frantic here mate. Sorry.
Larry: Never a dull moment with you, is there? You know your girlfriend’s gone missing? The Seppo? Reckon she might have been kidnapped...
Fridge: Always a pleasure Larry. (Hangs up)
Fridge just manages to get the coffee maker working before there is a soft tap tap on the door. The cat jumps down off the kitchen counter and follows him to the door as though there may be a delicious meal waiting the other side.
Female Officer: Sorry to bother you, Mr Coolley. I assume you are past your mandated quarantine.
Fridge: Yeah, worse luck. Always a pleasure Barbara. I guess you want to come in?
Female Officer: Not necessary, thank you Mr Coolley. There’s been an incident -
Fridge: Yeah, I guessed that -
Female Officer: Can I ask did you see or hear anything out of the ordinary last night?
Fridge: Yeah, I think you may want to come in. This could take a while....
Officer dutifully follows Fridge into the kitchen where Desiree has managed to rouse herself to something resembling an upright position. She is most definitely not a morning person, and it takes the otherwise eagle-eyed detective a minute or two to make the connection.
Female Officer: Oh.....Oh....my apologies.....
Fridge: Turning out to be quite a morning for you Barbara.....
Female Officer: (Sounding more than a little peeved) Ms Turner, there are quite a few people out looking for you.
Desiree: (All croaky and nest-haired and angry with the last of the ouzo still pulsing through her veins). Yeah...and who the fuck are you?
Fridge: Des, this is -
Desiree: (Squinting through her less angry eye) Yeah, yeah I know who she is now. Sorry....I got some bad news last night and....I promise I’ll call Donovan, let him know where I am. Donovan’s my tour manager. Just this fucking world, sometimes! You know?!
Female Officer: (Managing a facial shrug of such finesse that Fridge appears to have fallen in love on the spot). We have an unexplained death three doors down. Occurred some time between midnight and four am....
Fridge: Sid?
Female Officer: (Flipping over her pages). Aloysius Bernard Page.
Desiree: Fridge? That him?
Fridge: (Looking like the ground is about to open up under him). Yeah kiddo....coffee brewing...help yourself....you right Barbara?
Female Officer: Sorry, Ms Turner...have you met the deceased?
Desiree: Yeah, he barged in here yesterday. About lunch time. Called Fridge all sorts of names.
Female Officer: Really......Yes....well, I’ve been made aware of your history with the deceased....
Fridge: (Giving Desiree a look that could range from anything from put the cat out to you just burnt down the house). You see why I asked you to come in? I need a strong coffee and then I’m going to tell you everything - we - Desiree and I - saw and heard last night. Not much of it makes sense. Have you had a close look yet at that house out back?
Female Officer: (Vaguely following his gesture). You mean the abandoned weatherboard adjacent to your property? Yes, well that’s part of the crime scene...
Fridge: Part?
Female Officer: This was a particularly vicious attack, Mr Coolley.
Fridge: Jesus.....Am I about to get read my rights? You look like you’re building up to reading someone their rights...
Female Officer: (The faintest trace of a smile). Don’t joke, Mr Coolley. Please, for your sake. You say the deceased had an argument with you yesterday. You have a - history - with the deceased.
Desiree: He’s been with me the last two days. Never left my sight, except for the can....
Female Officer: Yes, thank you Ms Turner. I’ll be getting to you shortly.
Fridge: Last night - last two nights actually - we heard some really weird sounds coming from that house.
Desiree: Really fucking weird....
Fridge: (Waving a hand at her). Yeah, well there’s definitely someone living there. Been there about a month. I see the curtains lifting. Weird stuff. Just feels weird. Sorry, I’m saying weird a lot....
Desiree: (Sipping her coffee, checking her phone). The cat...don’t forget about the cat...
Fridge: Yeah, well the cat turned up with blood all over it.....look (Coaxes Barbara over to the back alcove) see, you can just make out its paw prints....went nuts last night....it’s Sid’s cat.....I knew him as Sid....that’s what he made me call him...
Female Officer: (Her impatience fast evaporating) Yes, I know Mr Coolley....I have been through your file......I’ll get forensics in to look at those prints...
Fridge: I know you’re looking at your prime suspect, Barbara, but I was here with her the whole time...we were drunk sure...but we were playing chess most of the time...until she got the news about her friends in New York....(Looks over at Desiree who has just remembered the bad news from last night). Look, I’m just trying to tell you what we heard, a little of what we saw....
Female Officer: (Nodding in Desiree’s direction). I understand....my apologies and sincerest condolences, Ms Turner. I have many happy memories of New York. Would you object to a complete sweep of your house, Mr Coolley?
Fridge: Sure, you need me to sign something? Go your hardest. As long as that chimp of yours doesn’t badger my guest here...
Female Officer: Oh, no he’s in hospital on a ventilator....Sorry, that sounded harsh....thank you Mr Coolley....just sign here........
Desiree: Clears you for any damage, yeah?
Female Officer: Oh no, quite the contrary....
Desiree: (Vaguely disapproving) Man, you Aussies are so fucking civilised.....
Barbara glances archly at Desiree as she goes to the door and gestures to some constables. Pretty soon a whole team of forensic people are filing in and Fridge, Desiree and Barbara are filing out onto the verandah.
Female Officer: This shouldn’t take more than an hour or so. Four at the most. Best you have somewhere else to stay tonight. They are very thorough. Haven’t you somewhere you need to be, Ms Turner?
Desiree: (Casting Fridge a pained inquisitive glance). Um...not right now....Fridge?
Fridge: Relax kiddo. Just call Donovan. (Watches the forensics team file in, winces at the bumps and scrapes, decides to shrug it off, rubs Desiree’s shoulder a couple of clumsy times.) OK, we’ll start with the tangibles and work back...we heard some weird noises....alot of weird noises...coming from that house back there....then the cat came in all covered in blood.....
Female Officer: Yes? And when was that?
Fridge: (Suddenly at a loss, looks over at Desiree gazing blank-faced into her phone). Christ, when was that? Iso has me all at sixes and sevens....Des?....Des?!
Desiree: (Gazing up from her phone, teary-eyed and non-plussed). Sorry? What?
Fridge: The cat....when did the cat show up all covered in blood....
Desiree: Oh, I don’t know......midnight?.....you tell her about that place out back, Fridge?
Fridge: Yeah, thanks kiddo....(Shrugs at Barbara like the kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar). That place has been weird for a few weeks now. My kid’s boyfriend Nathan reckoned he saw something a few weeks back. Something’s not right about that place....you’re not buying any of this are you....
Female Officer: Mr Coolley, this is very early stages....but I’m afraid you are at this stage very much a person of interest. And you, Ms Turner, I’m afraid....
Desiree: Yes, I know, better not go anywhere....
A sleek black Mercedes parks a discreet distance from the police tape. Robert steps out. Looks around with a vaguely puzzled mostly disinterested expression. Waves at Fridge. Squints at the rangy apparition by Fridge’s side.
Fridge: Breeeeeath..... kiddo....
Desiree: Go to hell...
Female Officer: I have explained matters to Mr McFarlane. You might be more comfortable at his place for now. Otherwise you would be standing around outside, I’m afraid. You are, of course, perfectly within your rights to stay as long as you observe social distancing. We will, of course, need to completely scrub your house once we have completed our forensics in accordance...
Fridge: Yes, with the Public Health Act 2020....All very - official...thanks Barbara.....Hey Robert...save the hug for happier times I guess....you know Desiree....
Robert: Patrick. Sergeant. Deirdre....
Fridge: Yes, well I think you can drop the pretence now, mate.....Desiree and I need a place to stay...where’s Mel?
Robert: Sorry....oh sorry....I thought you had her....(Waits for a moment while the “joke” sinks in). Oh no, sorry....had you....ha ha ha....she’s at mine. Putting poor Nathan through the ringer....ha!
Fridge: (Not sure what to make of this particular performance.) Yeah, well....mate......if you don’t think it’s too much.....we can always....
Robert: Nonsense, Patrick....
The matter is decided then. Robert is of the class of Australian who decides matters. We would be nowhere and everywhere without them. Desiree looks up from her phone like someone being herded onto an alien ship.
Desiree: Sorry, darling, where are we going? I still gotta call Donovan. Oh, hey Robert! Well, just a polite warning, sugar.....I don’t get that coffee to go I’m gonna really lose my shit.......
Fridge: (Holds back as Robert coaxes a somewhat reluctant Desiree toward his car.) Here are the keys, Barbara. I’ll just fix my guest a coffee for the road. I’m still holding you to that drink, by the way. You know, once you’ve crossed me off your list.
Female Officer: (A smile playing at the corners of her mouth). Yes, well that may be quite a wait, I’m afraid. Mr McFarlane is under strict instructions not to allow you more than 20 metres from his house. The same conditions will apply to you here until we have managed to eliminate you from our enquiries. As it stands -
Fridge: Yeah, yeah, I get it....(The coffee made, there’s nothing for it but to follow Robert and Desiree to the car.) Oh, and when you’re done could you leave some food out for the cat? All there under the sink...
Female Officer: By all means.
Cut to Fridge squeezed into the back of Robert’s tiny two-door sports while Desiree and Robert attempt harmonies to some Beatles song on the radio. Fridge watches on with an admixture of intrigue and horror. It really is a sickening display, but fortunately it is only a short drive from Fridge’s place to Robert’s spacious bungalow perched on a cliff overlooking the Georges River. Desiree gasps at the iron gates that swing open at the push of a button on Robert’s sleek dashboard, the sweeping horseshoe drive, the faux-hacienda architecture. Fridge appears more incredulous at each new squeal of surprise and delight.
Robert: (Springing out of the car like a teenager trying to impress his prom date). Welcome to Casa McFarlane.
Desiree: Wow, Robert, it’s wonderful...
Robert: Wait til you see the view....am I right Patrick?
Fridge: (Struggling to extricate himself). You’re not wrong, Robert. The Georges in all its glory.....
Desiree: (Gazing from one to the other all pie-eyed and open-mouthed). Georges?
Robert: It is a river, my dear....Patrick enjoys being cryptic.....
Desiree: I didn’t realise Sydney had rivers.....
Fridge: Oh, we got rivers, sugar....not exactly the Mississipi, but......
Robert: (Casting Fridge a sharp quizzical look). Shall we?
They enter the house with a wide-eyed gasping Desiree looking as bemused and ecstatic as a prisoner freed from solitary. Fridge trails behind and watches as Robert places a hand on her back and rubs a few times in round slow circles, gestures to the broad south-facing windows and the view of the gorge. Desiree skips over and lets out a tiny squeal that really seems to play on Fridge’s nerves.
Desiree: Oh Robert, I never imagined! Have you lived here long?
Robert: (Looking like a kitten with the proverbial saucer of milk). Seven years. The magic number. Was thinking of selling a while back. Someone made a pretty generous offer, but I just couldn’t bring myself....
Desiree: Oh, no how could you even....oh, and a pool.....
Fridge: (Sucking the morning from his teeth) Where are the kids?
Robert: (Struggling to peel his eyes away from Desiree). Um....down at the river I think.....not sure.....
Fridge: I might go for a reccy....
Robert: Yep, you do that. But, oh...no more than
Fridge: Yep...twenty metres.....
Robert: (Giving Fridge another vaguely puzzled look) I thought we could have a barbecue on the patio....
Fridge: Sounds great.....(Fridge slides open the heavy glass door with an angry grunt, crosses the patio and lawn and follows a steep winding path down into the gorge. Halfway down he stops and takes in a deep lungful of air and the stunning view out over the river. He calls out coo-ee a couple of times but there’s no response, just a tiny outboard wending its slow way down the river far below. He settles down on a lip of rock and swings his feet out over the gorge. It seems to be a place he is familiar with and he looks happy for the first time in a long time. After a while his phone rings, he looks at the number, gazes up at the empty blue sky with a deep sigh and then answers. It is, of course, Angela.)
Angie: (Propped up on a forest of pillows and cushions on some plush hotel bed while a fan whirrs overhead.) Hey stranger!
Fridge: (Sighing and looking out over the view with an expression sapped of all emotion). How’s five star quarantine?
Angie: (Rubbing down the creases on the duvee nervously). You’re still angry....
Fridge: This’ll be our last talk for a while, Ange, so make it count.....
Angie: Fridge, I don’t know what to say. I would have explained it all to you...
Fridge: Yeah, but you had a flight booked for Bali....
Angie: Fridge, that’s not.....I planned this months ago....
Fridge: The trip? Or shafting me?
Angie: Fridge, you’ve really got hold of the wrong end of this......
Fridge: (Makes a fake buzzer sound). Sorry, time’s up I’m afraid. Game over. I’m leaving it with the bank now Ange. They can sort it out. I’m sure Robert’s good for a bit of sage advice, but don’t count on him being in your corner...
Angie: (Getting all pouty. She really is the most loathsome self-absorbed, pampered woman). Yeah, or my mum for that matter...
Fridge: Your mum? Oh, I wouldn’t worry about Deborah, kiddo! She’ll be cheering you on from the stands...
Angie: (Still pouting). Yeah, don’t bet on it...
Fridge: (Having had enough of her whiny self-pitying act). We’re done Angie. Gotta go. I’ll start moving your stuff to Robert’s on the weekend. Been a swell ride. (Hangs up, looks out over the water, takes in a deep lungful of air and then exhales.) FAAAAAAAAAAARK!!!
Cut to Fridge sitting alone nursing a drink, what looks like a straight scotch, in Robert’s vast sunken living room while a couple, presumably Melody and Nathan, go at it hammer and tongs behind a closed door in the far right corner. Fridge seems oblivious to the sounds lost deep in his own dark thoughts. The front door bell rings. Fridge gets up slowly to answer it. Stood there is a handsome silver-haired woman in her late-60‘s with a vaguely wry expression on her face that seems to have made itself permanently at home.
Fridge: Deborah! This is an unexpected surprise. (Gestures her in with a theatric sweep of the hand).
Deborah: (Proferring a heavily powdered cheek on which he dutifully plants a playful peck). Oh, do stop playing up to me Patrick! You know very well that was a tautology.... Why do you always feel the need? I am not your mother.
Fridge: Not sure where Robert is, sorry Deb. And the kids are off....somewhere.....
Deborah: (With a startled look at the sounds emanating from the far room). Actually, Patrick, it is you I came to see. Oh, stop looking at me like that....We can have a civilised conversation just the two of us, surely.... Robert told me you were here, and I think we should sit down somewhere quiet and talk before all this goes any further.
Fridge: (Looking momentarily at a loss, all the wry playfulness suddenly leached out of him. The sounds seem to have died away in the corner room and they can both hear laughter and talking now.) Um...yeah...by all means....maybe through here....(Deborah follows him into a tiny room with a small table and four chairs. He pulls the French shutters tightly shut and invites her to sit down, then seems to remember himself). God, sorry Deborah where are my manners? G&T and go easy on the ice....
Deborah: (Making a rather cursory inspection of the time glinting on her wrist and then nodding approvingly). You remember? Yes, that would be nice, thank you Patrick...
Cut to Fridge mixing drinks like an old pro at Robert’s wonderfully arrayed butler’s helper. He turns at the sound of the door finally opening in the far corner to see a rather dishevelled Desiree emerging followed by a red-faced and grinning Robert. Fridge goes back to fixing Deborah’s drink, pours another rather tall one for himself, and then disappears back to Deborah without a word.
Deborah: (Accepting the drink like one practiced at it). Thank you Patrick, you are a gentleman when all is said and done....despite your antics.....(Her relaxed demeanour evaporates at the sight of Fridge raising a glass full of whisky).
Fridge: Cheers Deborah.....don’t concern yourself.....just.....
Deborah: I gather you’ve been speaking to Angela then....
Fridge: Oh, you mean.....has your daughter turned me back to drink? Your daughter got me off it, remember? (Holding up the glass to the light and studying the spectrum of light breaking through it. Robert no doubt stocks only the best single malt) Yes, well, I have just got off the phone to your daughter as it happens...but please don’t lay this at her feet. The poor girl’s got enough on her plate.....
There is a soft tap at the door. It is Desiree. She pokes her head in, takes in the taut atmosphere at a glance and quickly retreats with an apologetic wave.
Deborah: Friend of yours?
Fridge: A friend of Melody’s....
Deborah: (Not completely convinced) Oh, why do you let her persist with that ridiculous name! Melody Song! Honestly! I thought you of all people had more sense. Her name is Rebecca and that’s what she will remain. Rebecca was my mother’s name....
Fridge: I’m not her father, Deborah...
Deborah: Oh, of course you are! You were a piddling little wreck before you met that girl....and look at you now....
Fridge: Deborah, this is my first of many tonight....
Deborah: Oh, psstttt! You know exactly what I mean. I do wish you’d stop playing up to me Patrick.....My daughter -
Fridge: Now we’re getting to the nub of the matter....You could have saved yourself the trip, Deb. I understand, you’re her mother......I’m just some....soon to be drunken nobody.....
Deborah: Oh, Christ boy! Why won’t you ever let me finish! You always think you know what I think of you but you never let me say it! You have let that girl of mine.....oh, I can’t look at you while you’re nursing that drink like that....take a bloody sip will you and stop playing up to me. I came here to tell you I am going to do everything in my power to help you. I don’t know how much help I can be. I have to protect my daughter.....you understand.....but.....
Fridge: I’m not about to press charges, Deborah.....
Deborah: Oh, do shutup and listen to me Patrick! Are you like this with all the women in your life? This is....I have been contacted by the bank and told in no uncertain terms that I am party to a fraud.....I just signed a piece of paper presented to me by my daughter.....witness, she said, to the fact that I had seen you sign....I wasn’t comfortable without you there....but I trusted....my daughter....(Fridge reaches out to touch her hand but she pulls it away instinctively).....Robert.....
Fridge: (Obviously a little hurt by her refusal to be touched). Yes, we mustn’t forget about saint Robert.....
Deborah: Oh, do give it a rest with your Robert this and Robert that, Patrick! He has been a very good friend to you. You’re just the worst kind of stick in the mud sometimes....he respects you...admires you......oh, why are you looking at me like that? Are you drunk already? It’s barely past two!
Fridge: Robert tells me you’ve been in hospital?
Deborah: (Taking a long loud sip through the ice, wincing at the abundance of it but still sipping away happily and greedily). I was in ICU for a week.....you managed to....avoid the worst of it....Robert tells me....
Fridge: I wish I’d known, Deb....
Deborah: (Looking a little uneasy, although not entirely uncomfortable). Well, you know now, and here we are both alive and well....
Fridge: I told Angie we’re done, Deb....
Deborah: And good for you, Patrick! (Pats him gently on the knee). Angela is my daughter, Patrick, but she will never be my friend. And nor should she be yours. You could do better.
Fridge: (Pie-eyed at what he is hearing). I’m sorry?
Deborah: You heard me. Stop playing the oaf, Patrick. You are better than that. You....look, it will be no surprise to you to hear that I didn’t rate you much when I first met you...didn’t rate you at all as a matter of fact. You were drunk most of the time...you had that lazy eye, which seems to have righted itself now, thank God, and that irritating chip on your shoulder.....that stupid walk....
Fridge: Yes, yes....thanks Deb....I remember.....hazily.....it was a stye, actually.....I gave it a name one winter....lazy Pete.....
Deborah: Anyway....to her undying credit....my daughter....for all her many faults....saw something in you that neither you or I saw at the time. Would you say that’s a fair assessment?
Fridge: (Tapping his glass gently against Deborah’s). Fair enough as far as it goes....
Deborah: So, we have her to thank for that at least....
Fridge: (The whisky is really starting to kick in). Yeah...I guess....sorry, what’s the point?
Deborah: The point, Lazy Pete, is that I have watched that granddaughter of mine go from a skinny nervous shy pimply monosyllabic little wastrel of a thing to the woman I sit at home with my sherry and cheese and watch on television. Now, Robert would like to take the credit...and of course he bought all the studio time and all those fancy gizmos...but I know, Patrick....and I can see you’re about to take another sip and play up to me again....
Fridge: (Takes a healthy sip, smacks his lips). I think I love you mum....
Deborah: God, you’re insufferable.....I was building to a point and now it’s disappeared entirely....
Fridge: Polish that off and I’ll get us another. (Taps her glass). Don’t worry, I got your point Deb. I appreciate the chat.
Deborah: You’re not very comfortable with compliments, are you Patrick?
Fridge: No mum.
Deborah: God, you’re insufferable! I don’t know what my daughter ever saw in you...
Fridge: Yeah you do. (Snatches at her suddenly empty glass with a playfully raised eyebrow)
Deborah: Oh, go on...I gather there’s food?
As Fridge parts the French doors with the two empty glasses in his hooked finger, he glances back briefly at Deborah with that feigned spellbound look of someone spying a puppy in the pet shop window. She sees the look and waves it away playfully whispering OAF! under her breath. When he pulls the doors shut beind him she lets go a deep sigh as though the weight of the world had been lifted. And then a tear rolls and then a sob so deep it almost lifts the furniture off the floor.
Cut to Robert’s patio, the barbecue sizzling, the drinks pouring, Melody and Nathan over in a corner practising harmonies together. Desiree sat nursing a drink on her own watching the scene play out. Fridge is at the door watching Deborah escorted to a taxi by two uniformed policemen, walks back through the grand sun-kissed living room. He slumps down on the plush sofa for a moment nursing what remains of Deborah’s G&T. Robert spies him from the patio and gestures to Mel to take over while he goes in to check on his friend.
Desiree: (Glancing in at the two of them hugging there like a couple of shipwrecks). If I had that I’d never leave home....
Mel: (After a few double takes that almost threaten to put her neck out). Desi! That’s my dad you’re talking about.....
Desiree: (Chortling into her drink. On the border of that nasty unhappy weepy drunk of American pop divas the world over, swept up in world pandemics, suddenly powerless and apparently abandoned). I meant what they got, silly.....look at the two of them.
Mel: (Laying a gentle hand on her shoulder). I was sorry to hear about your friends.....
Desiree: (Letting go a deep, slightly hollow sigh). Thanks sugar, but they weren’t really my friends....not like those two in there....man, Aussie guys like to touch each other, don’t they? I just got people I knock around with, dance with, you know how it is.....
Nathan: (Holding up something charred and wheezing on the end of a tong). Snags are almost ready....
Desiree: (Shaking the blues out of her head). You know I don’t really think I’ve thanked you yet, sugar....events kinda got away from me I guess....(waving her finger around in the cooling autumn air)....you guys are so cool....yeah cheers....I didn’t get it at first....maybe it was the accents, I don’t know......Donovan was a fan......nagged and nagged and nagged......but I resisted for a long time......you’re just so........(juts out her lower jaw chewing the air for the marrow of a word).....straight up.....no hook no gimmick.....anyway.....(gesturing drunkenly over her shoulder)....your dad.....that dad.....the paunchy kinda ugly one......
Melody: Des!
Desiree: Oh sugar, you know I don’t mean it.....he’s the loveliest kindest man.....we played chess....I won.....lots....he’s really really bad at chess.....I mean really....dumb......just doesn’t get it.....so I got bored and picked through his records and got yours out and....well we danced and danced and danced!
Melody: (Squeaking and jumping up and down with glee). Eeeee!
Desiree: Got me hook line and sinker, sugar! You’ve got an old soul....(looking Nathan up and down, not entirely convinced but trying)....you two....you ever heard of Fats Waller?
Nathan: Blueberry Hill?
Desiree: Nice try, sugar.....but no.....
Robert: (Appearing suddenly, looking sheepish). Yes, well that’s me let off with a warning. Lost count of the visitors, sorry! All good now. You’re nan wanted to say goodbye.
Desiree: Man, you Aussies are so fucking civilised! You know what would have happened back home if the cops had turned up at someone’s door like that and told them they had too many in their own damn house? (Makes a bang bang bang motion with her hand. She may not be entirely sober or happy with the world at this stage).
Robert: Yes...well....perhaps that’s why we have a hundred dead rather than a hundred thousand....food anyone? Nate, you and Mel have done wonders I see...
Cut to a long festive table full of wine and love, salad and charred meat. Cockatoos wheel around cutting the autumn air with their primeval expletives.
Melody: Here’s to us, first of all.
Cheers cheers cheers all round the table.
Robert: Delicious Nathan...
Melody: Yeah,...thanks dad....Nathan just poked it with a fork.....soooo.....after what I imagine has been a long long long few months for our friend Desiree here....
Desiree: Deirdre....
Melody: Deirdre here....ummm....ooh shit.....(Fans herself theatrically) I promised myself I wouldn’t do this....but you were just so cool, you know? To take a chance on us like that...and I hope we didn’t disappoint.......and all your friends way over on the other side of the world....going through that....
Robert: Beccy....
Fridge: Mel.....
Desiree: Sugar.....you’re not gonna bring my friends back....I’m just thanking my lucky stars I’m here and not there...(Takes a healthy sip of her wine) Sorry, that sounds awfully callous...but you’ve all been beautiful......I guess I’m back where I started in a way...you know, like relying on the kindness of strangers and all....you get the reference right?
Nathan: Mark Twain? You’ll never be a stranger here, Des...
Desiree: Close enough, Nate....and thanks sugar....you’re a brick....
Robert: (Finally rousing himself to his feet). To the kindness of strangers! And it was Tennessee Williams, Nathan....
Desiree: (Glancing over at Melody behind a cupped hand). You ever notice how guys always have to tell you things?
Mel: (Breathless with the shared revelation). Yes!
Desiree puts down her glass and stares at the table for a long time, a couple of fat tears rolling down her cheeks. Everyone else puts down their glasses and waits for whatever will come next. The food goes a little colder but not by too much. The cockatoos bring everyone to their senses.
Fridge: (Getting a little gingerly to his feet). Here’s to Stavros!
The whole table raise their glasses and cry Stavros! Stavros!
And New York!
New York! New York!
Desiree lets go a few deep sobs and then wipes a sweet smile back onto her face. The room turns from mourning to eating. Finally Nathan checks his phone.
Nathan: Sorry guys I hate to be the party pooper, but Mel if we wanna make the funeral, I guess we better wolf this down and start setting up.
Melody glances at him with her default irritation but it soon warms. It always does. She will not be her mother’s daughter for much longer.
Desiree: Look, I didn’t know your friend Stavros, and I barely know you guys....except for him....(squinting over at Fridge through her half-full glass and fingers of bling).....but I gotta tell you I’ve never been that fucking sick in my life, man....and I lived in India for a year...but.....this......getting through this with you fucking dickhead Aussie motherfucking morons.....
Boo boo boo get off ya fucking seppo, etc etc....
Robert: (Once again struggling to get to his feet but failing). I think what Desiree means to say -
Melody: Yeah, maybe stay off your feet for a while dad. We’re gonna to set up in the corner now, so no more banging around....this is for Stavros, don’t forget....and Luke.... Desiree? If you feel like joining us....I know you didn’t know Stavros......
Desiree: Yeah, well sugar if you’re gonna ruin a Greek funeral with one of mine I may as well ride the sevenths....I grew up in Memphis....Nathan, sorry honey, but you just look pretty and play.....just Melody and me....OK honey?.....you stick to the dominant, Mel, and I’ll ride off.....
Melody and Nathan wander off humming prettily to each other as Desiree proffers her glass for a top up.
Fridge: It’s been quite a ride, kiddo...(Waits until Nathan and Melody are well out of earshot and Robert is well within it). Maybe not quite the ride you and Robert took....
Desiree throws down his hand in feigned disgust. Robert tosses down a napkin, picks it up again, wipes his handsome chin, punches Fridge square and hard on the shoulder.
Desiree: Dude! You are such a fucking arsehole......
Robert: (Laughing himself to a blanched face that even has Fridge looking a little concerned). Patrick, you really have a way.....God, what a life! So...you were close to Stavros?
Fridge: (Giving Robert the most intense glare yet in this entire tragically unwatched series) Your Christmas lamb guy, Robert.....Stavros?.....Eldest son the name of one of the Apostles?.......the only one that wasn’t a tradesman? Your daughter’s first boyfriend......
Robert: (Suddenly and suitably crestfallen) Luke.......(Gazes down the empty table, shakes something out of himself). Oh my dear man......Stavros......he was such a robust man........
Fridge: (Raises his glass to the shining world). Yep, this thing’s got a great sense of fucking irony! To absent friends......
Desiree: (Giving him a soft peck on the cheek) Absent friends.
Cut to. Greek Orthodox Church. Largely empty mid pandemic. A large screen in the background stands blank until all the due rites are done for dear Stavros to the Church’s satisfaction, and then the screen lights up and Melody Song starts singing one of Desiree’s more mournful country and western numbers.
Cut to a mad flurry of torches and flashing lights around an old derelict weatherboard. I think we all know which particular weatherboard this is. A swarm of heavily armed police are pointing their guns and torches into the dark depths of the house’s foundations. Melody Song is still singing angelically in the background. A frantic torch catches the hideous snarling face of something or someone deep in the dank ancient dark wielding what looks like a blood-soaked scimitar.
Police Officer on his two-way: Suspect located. Armed. Over. Female. Indeterminate age.
Cut to. A country highway and our two “Covid Bandits” handcuffed and being roughly escorted into the back of a waiting police van. The camera rises up above the tree line to take in the scene of furious fire activity off in the distance where helicopters buzz like bees dropping their payloads of water. Melody Song’s angelic voice slowly drifts off into the ether.
The End
Goodbye and good luck
© Justin Lowe 2020
