Gillian knew everyone had sources, just hadn’t met any of Eric’s. Eric looked at her and
pointed a finger. “You want a story? Good time of the year to visit Cairns.”
She blinked. “Your story.”
“Can’t do for a while. Going to cover the Regatta in Perth then back to Adelaide. Sniff it
out. Tell you what. If it makes an issue, I’ll sort out the expenses.”
“No. My story and I will handle it.” She didn’t even know why she said it. It just came
out. The meeting concluded and obtaining a rough idea where she could find this Peter,
they all walked outside and she parted company. There was still some serious music to
catch up on that night.
Next day and feeling very tired, she told the article Editor she was going north for a few
days to follow up something and got a lecture on it better be worth it, etc. She had
Hannah book an air ticket and hotel room and shuddered at the cost. The story better
make a bonus.
The following morning she was in the air and hours later touching down at Cairns
International Airport. Despite being June, the heat still hit her with a bang. She headed
for her hotel, which was impressive, and had a cold shower. Then after a cool drink, went
downstairs and took a taxi out to the newsagency at Home Hill, in the suburbs. In fact she
was feeling a bit of an idiot, for all she had was the name Peter and a big rambling
Queenslander house painted orange. The newsagent looked her over and evasively said
there were lots of orange houses and lots of Peters in the area. Then he relented and
suggested two blocks down the street and turn left. A Peter lived there and the place was
orange. Probably out fishing or at the Bowling Club.
She thanked him and walked the required distance, finding the place. It was indeed
rambling and some semblance of garden, but it just seemed to be missing something.
Indeed it was also missing it’s owner. She thought of leaving her phone number on the
front screen door, but decided to try the Bowling Club first. That was easy as there were
signs on street corners and she entered the air conditioned building where every one
seemed to be sitting and drinking. Silly of her to think they played bowls. Many were in
creams and similar shirts so she realised there had been games earlier. The bar man was
the best place to start and he pointed to an elderly man having a drink with two others.
The men saw her before he did, and they stopped talking. He looked around and she saw
strong eyes. Lines on his face could have been age but she felt these suggested something
deeper. “Peter?”
It seemed an eternity before he nodded. The face strained. “Yes.”
Gillian put out her hand. “Gillian Rush. I’ve come a long way to find you and I hoped we
could talk sometime. I don’t mean to intrude but maybe later today? “I’ll buy dinner.”
