Morning Tea Near Mitchelton, Page 2

CHAPTER 2

  BRISSY

  ‘Queensland: Beautiful one day… perfect the next? – Huh!’ Brian snorted with displeasure! ‘What a load o’ crap!’

  The two ladies beside him in the lift immediately commenced to prattle to one another in some odd language he didn’t understand, containing, he guessed, certain references to him equating to ‘Bighead’, ‘Dickhead’, or something like that, judging by the negative looks they were giving him.

  Then he became aware of a delightfully feminine perfume wafting his way from just behind him. He turned to see a very pretty young girl standing there. ‘Small, slender, trim and exceedingly attractive with it.’ Not that he was taking particular notice, but… ‘She has the most exquisite lightly tanned, soft skin; such a cute button nose and soft lips that scream “Kiss me”.’

  Brian was shocked back to reality by the disappointing realisation she was looking at him with utter disdain. He gave her a rather weak, fleeting, perhaps a tad too leery sort of smile; the best he could do at such an early hour. ‘Sorry,’ he said, ‘I was just expressing my disappointment at the… the crap….’ He nodded down at the discarded cigarette packet, gum-wrapper etc on the floor of the lift.

  ‘Dropped by some overbearing, self-opinionated tourist, like yourself perhaps?’ she responded.

  ‘Oh!’ he thought, somewhat deflated. ‘That’s a bit unfair!’

  But, before he could think up some marvellously clever or outrageously witty retort, the lift-door opened. So, making a bold now-or-never decision of the sort that could only be made by a young man who thought he had the world in his pocket, he said, ‘Look, sorry and all that, darl. But if it’s not too rude an assumption, I’d say that you an’ me both, are in desperate need of a caffeine top up? Now am I right or am I right - eh?’

  He gave her one of his extra-broad smiles – ‘Guaranteed to melt butter, and on a good day’, he thought, ‘One that causes innocent young girls to swoon at my feet!’ – provided his luck was running as red-hot as a supercharged Holden V-8!

  She looked at him searchingly before deciding he was not so bad looking, probably harmless and nodded her agreement, with a warm half-smile that raised his spirits a bit more. ‘We’re in there, mate!’ he thought. ‘Come on then,’ he prompted; rubbing his hands excitedly and leading the way in to the coffee shop, then over to a secluded booth. ‘Oh… how lucky can you get,’ he thought. Then, pulling a clownish sort of face, he said ‘These ‘passion pits’ can sometimes be hard to find, you know…’

  ‘Oh, really? A regular user, are you?’

  ‘Me? Oh, no. No, but I think you sometimes have to book these intimate booths up to two or three days ahead. Well, maybe even more at night, I guess, but maybe not so much, in the mornings.’ Flexing his lips, he thought, ‘Calm down, mate! Your mouth’s off an’ running way ahead of ya…’

  It was still a bit early. They were not all that busy in the coffee shop and service was accordingly satisfyingly swift, which was good It gave him something to do with his hands… like endlessly spooning the froth on his coffee and now that they were sitting so very close together, he was able to sneak a closer look at her. He was thinking ‘She’s about my age, twenty or so, I reckon… and her pink dress is kinda pretty… and excitingly low and loose. She’s absolutely oozing sex appeal, but she’s not pushy with it! She’s holding back a bit… demurely and refined like. Obviously waiting for me to take the lead, like the classy birds tend to do… ’

  After a further stirring of his coffee, while desperately trying to exert some control over his wandering eyeballs, he said: ‘I’m… I’m Brian, by the way.’ She nodded, but said nothing. So he continued, ‘I… er, I don’t know your name, darl - but I’d… I’d sure like to. That’s, that’s if you don’t mind, Miss… er… mm… Ms.’ He grabbed his lower lip and shook it. ‘Sorry about that.’

  Amused by his obvious nervousness and warming to him a bit more now, she freely volunteered that her name was Mary and she came from Melbourne.

  ‘Mary… Mary from Melbourne? Oh, great! That’s nice,’ he said. ‘I really like Melbourne. Yeah and I really like ‘Mary’ for a name too. Two out of two… ain’t bad – right?’

  ‘Oh, I suppose so,’ she said. ‘Being such a confident, well travelled young man, you’re about to tell me you know Melbourne pretty well?’

  ‘Me? Me – know Melbourne? Why, yeah! Yeah, of course I do. I know it like the back of my hand,’ he said, while thinking: ‘Jeepers! ‘What on earth do I know about Melbourne? I’ve only been there once…’

  He spooned his coffee again. ‘Let me see, Melbourne, shopping capital of Australia, with a claim to over a 1000 pubs and clubs. Not that I’ve been in ‘em all, mind! No… no, I wouldn’t want you to think that! I’m almost sure I’ve missed one or two. But, being young and virile, there’s still plenty of time – right?’

  She smiled. ‘Now that’s encouraging,’ he thought.

  ‘Not to mention the umpity-ump number of cafés and restaurants… and so on,’ he continued. ‘In fact, they do say, good coffee and great food are two of the really big things Melbourne is remembered for. Those fantastic cake shops you have down at St. Kilda. Hah! Everybody, who’s ever been there, would certainly remember them, right?’ Mary nodded in agreement.

  ‘Oh, and the big chocolate éclairs they have down there, eh?’ He held up his hands to demonstrate… “Ohhh, some of ‘em almost two-feet long! Wow-wee!’

  Mary covered her face to suppress a laugh. ‘Almost that, yes,’ she managed to say.

  ‘Of course,’ he went on, ‘one always knows how to dress in Melbourne, right? Whatever time of the year, raincoat and gumboots!’

  As soon as he’d made that remark he regretted it for fear of giving offence, as he could see no immediate enjoyment of the joke in her face. As the seconds began to tick by he wished a big hole would open up and swallow him; but to his surprise, after what seemed like an age, she managed a bit of a grin. One that slowly

  spread from ear-to-ear; which then cast serious doubt in his mind about her really being from Melbourne. He’d half expected to get his face slapped!

  ‘What about you, then?’ Mary enquired. ‘What circus do you belong too? You can’t be from Melbourne too, surely?’

  ‘Me? Oh, er…no, no. I’m from Sydney. Yeah, a great place to live is Sydney. I can’t wait to get back there! The de-facto capital of Australia is dear old Sydney. Well, that is the financial capital, anyway. Sydney Harbour is absolutely gorgeous, especially at night. Then there’s the Opera House, know that, do you?’

  ‘Yes, of course.’

  ‘Oh, good, good. That’s great; but did you know, it’s where they do the best opera-ations known to medical science…?’

  ‘You fool!’ Mary laughed, punching him on his arm. ‘I guess you’ll be happy to get back there then, where you have somebody waiting, I suppose?’

  ‘Waiting? Oh, waiting, yeah… ‘course, quite a queue, actually. There being lots and lots of beautiful, absolutely fantastic, young women down there. They’re all missing me, something awful!’

  ‘Oh, the poor things…’

  ‘Hey! I don’t suppose you’d happen to know Sydney yourself, do you?’ he asked, nervously, thinking: ‘I hope not…’

  His slight unease caused her to think, just momentarily, that maybe he wasn’t really from Sydney; about which she knew very little.

  ‘Hmmm…, yes… a bit. Isn’t that the place where the boys like to drink their whiskey – ‘on the rocks’?’ she teased.

  ‘On the rocks? Oh, that’s a good one! How did you know that?’ Brian queried in mock disdain. ‘That’s supposed to be a closely guarded New South Wales state secret!’ He sneaked a quick look around and leaning forward, he whispered ‘You could go to jail…’ he said, ‘if they ever found out you leaked that, up here!’

  They laughed together. The conversation continued in a light and humorous vein. Ma
ry said she was doing a grand tour of Brisbane, different tours each day. He told her he was doing pretty much the same thing. At one point he asked her, somewhat foolishly, perhaps - where she was going that morning. She retrieved a handful of brochures from her bag and started into a dialogue about the Brisbane City Hall, the official residence for the Lord Mayor of Brisbane, or so she said. She went on and on about it being a heritage listed building and “an interesting example of English neo-classical architecture….”

  ‘Oh, yeah… well’ he interrupted. ‘Fascinating stuff. Great! You really must go up the clock tower! There’s an observation platform up there so they tell me, with excellent panoramic views of the city and all that. It’s quite fantastic, so they say.’

  ‘I will! Thank you! I do hope there are not too many steps,’ she said, looking down at her lightly clad feet.

  ‘Oh… neat little ankles and dainty pink-painted toenails, wrapped in ‘stingy bits’ on high-heel soles – so very sexy! I love ‘em! I love ‘em! I love everything about her…’

  ‘No, no. No worries, he said. ‘You’ll be right in them, perfectly sensible footwear. Anyway, there’s a lift, so I hear. But don’t forget to wave to us poor peasants wandering the streets down below.’

  ‘I will,’ she said. ‘I’ll certainly wave if I see you Brian, down there or anywhere else.’

  ‘Good! Good, that would be great,’ he said, ‘cause… I’m going to keep a special look out for you too… today, tomorrow and all the other days of the week.’

  ‘What are you doing today, then?’ she asked.

  ‘Me? Oh, I’ve got such a fun filled day, I wouldn’t want to bore you with it.’

  But Mary was gathering up her things now and already beginning to make her excuses, something about the need to rush off and catch some tour or other. Suddenly, she was gone! All too quickly gone, just like that - before he could get her full name, or her number! Not to mention what side of the bed she liked to sleep on…

  He was left, sadly, with the reality that her departure spoilt what had been a very promising day and; since he had now missed his tour, his plans were in complete disarray.

  He was annoyed with himself for letting her slip away like that, leaving him feeling deflated and somewhat devoid of energy. He filled in the day aimlessly wandering in and out of the city shops and grabbing some take-away lunch in the Queen Street Mall, thronged with happy back-packers and other general tourists. He began to think of himself, as being maybe the loneliest traveller in the city and it was not a happy thought! Then he spent the late afternoon and evening on a bus tour of the city hot spots. Looking back on the day, he realised that he had felt very much alone as he moved on through the city, relentlessly scanning the crowd for a glimpse of ‘Mary from Melbourne’, without success. The day ended with his personal spirits running, he thought, ‘lower than a goanna’s belly.’

  The following day, Day 2 in the city for him, Brian spent the morning at the Botanical Gardens. According to the guide: “The city's oldest park, originally planted by convicts in 1825 with food crops to feed the prison colony. These gardens include ancient trees, rainforest glades and exotic species. They run the full length of Alice Street, bordered by Parliament House on the one side and the Brisbane River's northern banks on the other. They provide a lush green haven for city workers and visitors…”

  ‘Bully for them,’ he thought.

  At the end of the tour, he listened to a short talk given on the delights and mysteries of the propagation of various tropical and sub-tropical plant species. The main species of special interest to him though, the one which absolutely dominated his thoughts, failed to get a mention. He came away with his biological interests completely unaddressed and his basic needs totally unfulfilled. From there, Brian wandered down to the Brisbane River and hopped on to one of the big ‘City Cat’ catamaran fast-ferries for an impromptu afternoon cruise. It did lift his spirits a bit, as he stood at the rail next to what his eyes told him were some ‘very warm and interesting, if not exciting, possibilities.’ That is, if he could only get Mary off his mind; which, try as

  much as he liked, he just couldn’t! He was surprised to find himself spending so much time staring relentlessly at the crowded shore, rather than at the delights closer to hand.

  The next day, Day 3, promised to be a bit more exciting after he found he could easily book himself online for a climb up and across the top of the old Story Bridge, ‘One of only three such climbs in the whole world,’ or so they reckoned! They did morning climbs, day climbs and night climbs too; but as he was finding the mornings to be the most difficult time to find a little excitement, that’s the climb he had chosen.

  He got a taxi down to the Kangaroo Point check-in, where he joined a mixed group of climbers, young and old. They were told the climb was likely to be about two and a half hours long and they would have to submit to a blood alcohol test (he kept his fingers crossed for that one). Brian found the preliminary safety demonstration rather interesting and some of the ‘don’t-dos’ a bit amusing. Then properly suited and equipped with safety lines, ‘Like flipping mountain climbers,’ he thought, they bravely set off in small groups on the long, slow, climb into the sky.

  They paused eventually at the three-metre wide viewing platform, at the apex of the climb about halfway across the bridge; to savour and enjoy the full 360 degree view of the city and the river. There he was amazed and delighted to find that one of the shapeless bundles ahead of him, was in fact his newfound friend from two days ago, his very own ‘Mary from Melbourne’.

  Brian could not believe his good luck! ‘This... has to be my day!’ he thought.

  As a nearby climber, prattled on about the wonderful view, he could not help but answer: ‘How bloody right you are, mate! The best view ever! You don’t know just how much I’ve waited for this moment!’ He meant every word of it too.

  He began to gravitate towards Mary. With almost perfect timing too, as a spate of short, sharp, windy gusts together with a bit of light rain; suddenly fell upon them.

  Excitedly determined to capitalise on any opportunity to make close contact with Mary, he waited for the next blow to come, then seizing the opportunity he boldly moved in, reached out and clasped her in his arms in a strong, if over-protective, manner!

  Taken by surprise, particularly so when she realised whom it was holding her, Mary didn’t know whether to laugh or scream! She did neither and instead she allowed herself to sink softly, silently, and warmly, into his arms; as the other climbers looked on in amusement that bordered on disbelief!

  Left to their own devices they would probably have stayed happily locked together like that for some time; but eventually they were gently, but firmly, ushered along to join the others for the long, slow, climb downwards.

  Those sudden little bursts of wind and rain, though infrequent, were surprisingly noisy and Brian and Mary completed their descent with very little to say to one another. When they got back to ground level and had divested themselves of their protective gear and had their cameras, mobile phones and other personal baggage all safely restored to them, Brian spoke up.

  ‘Look, Mary’ he said. ‘Before we go, I’ve a confession to make.’

  ‘A confession…’ she teased. ‘Really? Oh, how dramatic!’

  ‘Yeah, well… I just want to say I’m sorry if, if I invaded your privacy, up there. I want you to know, you see, it wasn’t my intention to do what I did. It just sort of… well, happened. I couldn’t help myself, really – honest!’

  ‘Oh, you mean grasping my bottom with both hands like that, in a grossly over-enthusiastic and over-familiar manner? Holding me far longer than could ever be justified as being necessary, or reasonable in the circumstances? Is that what you mean?’

  ‘Yeah… yeah, that’s sort of what I mean. But it was absolutely necessary, in the circumstances… according to my reckoning, on the grounds of safety! I thought it was getting all too
dangerous, you see. What with that strong wind getting up like that and the rain. Why, your life could have been at risk, if you’d fallen, right?’

  ‘Oh, yes. Of course’ she replied, dramatically.

  ‘But… but, I freely confess, I also enjoyed it; immensely too!’

  ‘Really!’

  ‘Yes. Shame on me! I’m sorry, if it caused you any offence, I really am. But, as I say, I couldn’t help rushing to your aid – right?’

  ‘Well, yes, I see what you mean, alright.’

  ‘You do?’ ‘Gosh I’m winning here,’ he thought.

  ‘I might as well make a confession, I enjoyed it too. Every single minute of it, while it lasted!’ Mary said.

  ‘You did?’ ‘This is going well - I could be on a winner here,’ he thought.

  ‘Yes, only I’m not afraid to say so, nor am I the least bit sorry!’ She kissed him on the cheek; then turned picked up her bag and made off as if to leave with the crowd.

  ‘Mary! Mary, please don’t go. Please…’

  ‘Why?’ she asked, turning to face him. ‘Do you think a quick fumble means we’re somehow, hereafter and for evermore, officially ‘a couple’ - joined at the hip, ‘til death us do part?’

  ‘Yeah well, I know it sounds daft but, yes. Yes - something like that. No. No, what I…I really meant is, I’d like it to be something like that.’

  Mary didn’t reply immediately. She gave the impression of being deep in thought. ‘Look,’ she said. ‘Do you know a pub called The Elephant and Wheelbarrow?’

  ‘The Elephant and Wheelbarrow’? Why, yeah! Yeah, of course I do. Go there all the time,’ Brian lied, confidently. ‘It’s my job, you see. Part-time, of course.’

  ‘Job?’ Mary queried.

  ‘Well, yeah. I feed the elephant and I oils the wheelbarrow’

  Laughingly, Mary said, ‘I don’t know if you’re completely daft.. or just a natural clown.’

  ‘You could have fun finding out,’ Brian suggested.

  ‘Yes, perhaps… see you there tonight then, about eight. Ok? Bye…’ She blew him a kiss - and was gone!

  Left on his ownsome – again! Brian walked the city of Brisbane for the rest of that day, as if he was walking on air - and the day couldn’t go quickly enough!

  Even the delights of the Roma Street Parklands, billed as ‘the world's largest sub-tropical garden in the heart of a city; 16 hectares of green space in the centre of Queensland's capital, Brisbane’, couldn’t keep his mind off Mary. His eyes were almost worn out from searching for her amongst the crowds, over every hectare, every square metre.

  That evening, having no idea where The Elephant and Wheelbarrow was, Brian took the easy option and hailed a Black and White cab. He learned from the driver that the Elephant and Wheelbarrow was a British-themed venue in Wickham Street, Fortitude Valley; with live entertainment, great pub food, function rooms and even some backpacker accommodation. The dress was smart casual. The driver looked him up and down and gave him a reassuring nod, saying, ‘You’ll be right, mate!’ That gave his confidence a bit of a boost! Knowing that he had arrived with plenty of time to spare, helped too.

  As he entered, he caught sight of himself in a mirror. ‘You’re the absolute goods, mate!’ he thought, ‘How could any girl resist ya!’ He really was looking his absolute best in new, dark-grey, trousers; and a fancy, white, silk shirt. Moreover, his person was emanating a fantastic new male perfume. ‘That cost me an arm and a leg, but it’s absolutely guaranteed to attract the birds and maybe ‘the birds and the bees’ an’ all, if I should be so lucky!’

  Mary had arrived early as well and was not hard to find either, as she was already the centre of attention in the main bar, with half-a-dozen young studs vying for the opportunity to impress her with their charm and wit.

  Immediately grasping the fact that bold action was necessary in this sort of situation, if he was to have any hope of achieving anything here, Brian pushed through the throng and walked straight up to her. ‘Excuse me, Madam,’ he said. ‘There’s a phone call for you. If you wouldn’t mind coming this way, please…’

  The young men stood aside and Mary demurely followed him. He was more than pleased and surprised when, immediately after they left the bar, she stopped and kissed him on the cheek!

  ‘You’re early,’ was all she said – but, with a warm, radiant, smile...

  ‘Necessary!’ he said.

  ‘Necessary?’ she queried.

  ‘Absolutely,’ he affirmed. ‘Because I’m taking you somewhere else. Somewhere more… intimate - more suitable for the occasion.

  ‘Oh…’ she said, with interest.

  ‘First, I must ask: Do you like Greek food?’

  ‘Greek? Mmmm… yes. Yes, of course.’

  ‘Then you shall have the best! Pray, come with me, Madam’ he said, leading her by the hand to the exit.

  Brian hailed a cab, which delivered them quickly and safely to the Mythos Greek Restaurant, at New Farm. There they were extremely lucky in getting a good table fairly quickly, in such a busy restaurant.

  Brian ordered some garlic bread and asked for the wine menu. Somewhat undecided on a choice of wines, he left his finger hovering between the red and white house-wines, just long enough for the waiter to suggest ‘Perhaps, one of each, Sir: A red and a white?’ To save face, he could but agree.

  ‘How did ‘Mary from Melbourne’s’ day go yesterday?’ he asked.

  ‘Oh, good,’ she replied. ‘I shopped in Fortitude Valley, taking in James Street and the fabulous Emporium – known for the best-of-the-best in contemporary designer fashion and creative accessories.’

  ‘Oh, yeah. Yeah, how…how very nice…’ Brian mumbled.

  ‘If you get the chance on a Saturday morning, you could go to the outdoor Valley Markets and find vintage treasures or trinkets. Stop for a coffee and a mouth-watering pastry at Freestyle Tout in the Emporium, truly a dessert haven.’

  ‘Ah - hah! Now that sounds more like me!’ Brian happily confided.

  ‘Right. Well, what did you do, then?’

  ‘I… er, headed to the Queen Street Mall, there are… oh, hundreds of shops there. Some with arcades and department stores too and the new Queens Plaza; Tiffany & Co and Louis Vuitton! Whew! I thought of you all the time. A great day! You would have loved it!’

  ‘I’m sure I would, I wish I had, now…’

  ‘If you had, I would have bought you a beautiful tiara from Tiffany’s. But I couldn’t get one with you not being there, of course, what with not knowing your correct size - you understand? They say size isn’t everything, but it is if you don’t want your tiara falling down over your eyes, right?’

  ‘Oh…yes. Yes, of course, you’re so right. But, what about a nice vanity-case or something, from Louis Vuitton?’

  ‘Ah! Well, funny you should say that… ‘cause I was tempted, really tempted. But I’m smart enough, you see,’ tapping the side of his nose in a knowing way; ‘to know ladies can be pretty fussy about patterns and colours and the like. There’s really no way I would ever get it right. So, I decided to leave it until another day… There’s always another day, right?’

  ‘Yes, of course. You never know…’

  ‘Exactly! The Brisbane Arcade is another place not to be missed. Gorgeous jewellery, high end designer fashion and accessories and a very romantic café, Room with Roses. Then, then… there’s – wait for it, Chocolates To Die For!’

  ‘Ohhh, I really should have come with you’!

  ‘Oh, I do wish you had. I felt a right ‘strawberry’ wandering around the shops on my own.’

  ‘Never mind,’ she said, stretching out her ‘tiny, delicate, beautiful fingers’ to touch his warm hand. ‘Another day…eh?’

  It was then that they served the Moussaka. It looked wonderful! Fantastic!

  Mary, who had not eaten Greek for a long time, was so excited, so thrilled and she enjoyed her Moussaka so much,
she cheekily ordered a second helping!

  ‘They obviously don’t feed you very well in Melbourne, do they?’ he quipped.

  ‘I don’t always pig-out like this, but it’s been such a wonderful evening,’ she said to Brian, ‘I just wanted the meal to never end…’

  ‘It’s probably because you’re not used to enjoying such good company,’ he quipped, again. ‘You must come up from Melbourne more often. I’m thinking of running some short tours.’

  ‘Short tours? What sort of short tours?’

  ‘Short tours for beautiful young women. You know, for young women who are going short of, of anything…’

  ‘Dream on! Dream on… Now, about Melbourne. I feel I really must, make a little confession.’

  ‘Again?’ he asked, with an amused smile. ‘Another confession? Wouldn’t you like me to take you to a church, you know, so you can do it properly?’

  ‘Well, yes - I mean, no! Look! I don’t actually come from Melbourne.’

  ‘I didn’t think you did,’ he said, smartly.

  ‘And why not?’ she said, rather surprised.

  ‘Because, if you did, you would have been more bold… more assertive, all along. Melbourne matrons are well known for that.’

  ‘Are they?’

  ‘Yes! They are made of strong stuff, very much so. If you were from Melbourne, you would have demanded they bring you two helpings of moussaka, on a silver platter straight up – with sparklers an’ all!’

  ‘Go on, really?’

  ‘Of course! Though I doubt if you would have been so ravenously hungry in the first place! Melbournian’s, you see, are usually well fed - very well fed. In fact, I’ve been told, in strict confidence, mind - it was especially for well-fed Melbourne matrons … that the jumbo jet was first invented!’

  ‘Oh, you…!’ Mary couldn’t help giggling.

  ‘No, no, you’re from here… Brissy, aren’t you? Well, Queensland, anyway’

  ‘How’d you know that?’

  ‘‘Cause I’m a journalist! We professional journalists are very clever at ‘reading’ people. Know what I mean? One look and we know it all!’

  ‘Oh, yes. Well, we travel agents are quite smart at that too! I reckon you’re not from Sydney, now are you?’

  ‘Hey! You sure about that?’

  ‘Yes! You’re from Brissy as well,’ she said.

  ‘How’d you guess that?’ he said, thinking; ‘Oh, she’s getting a bit squiffy already…’

  ‘From your boyish grin! she said. ‘You’re so young and foolish. No mother worth her salt…’ she said, waving her finger at him, ‘would let you go as far, far… far from home as Sydney to Brisbane; not on your little ownsome!’

  ‘No?’ he queried.

  ‘No! I’d bet a cup of coffee,’ she said, ‘that you’ve got the deep tanned rippling muscles of a Queensland board-rider hidden under this silly shirt.’ She reached out and ran her hand up and down his arm. She closed her eyes. ‘Oh, come to think of it, I’d love to check that out sometime.’

  ‘Oh, well…that could be arranged,’ he said, seductively. ‘I’m definitely on a winner here,’ he was thinking – quickly topping up her glass.

  ‘Oh, more wine? Should I?’ she asked.

  ‘Got to, I’m afraid. Old Greek custom. All… all bottles, red and white… must be empty, when they come to clear the tables. Otherwise, you see, the poor old wine waiter is made to row… row… row all the way back home to Greekland; to get better wine! It’s in his workplace agreement.’

  ‘We, we can‘t have that on our conscious…tsk… tsk…’

  ‘Is your conscious…tsk… tsk, really that big?’

  ‘Of course!’

  ‘So’s mine. So let’s drink up!’ Brian encouraged. ‘I’ll get you some coffee later.’

  ‘Good. I’d like that.’

  ‘Now, tell me why you have been touring the city this week?’ Brian queried.

  ‘I was on the Brisbane tour,’ Mary said, ‘because next week, I start work in this new job of mine at a trivial agency.’

  ‘Trivial…?’

  ‘I mean a travel… travel agency in Brisbane. I thought, know your own town first!’

  ‘Good on yer! Same here, well not exactly the same,’ said Brian. ‘I work for the Courier Mail, you see. I’ve just taken over certain important duties covering the travel section. So we have something in common. As you say, know your own town first!’ They clicked their glasses of house white and drank, in agreement.

  ‘Is a good knowledge of Bris… Bris…’

  ‘Brissy…’

  ‘Brissy… a “we-quirement” of the job, then?’ she asked.

  ‘Oh, no. No not a “we-quirement”, not exactly. But I’m pushing this idea, see, that a lot of people in Brisbane - far too many people really, don’t know their own town! They don’t and I admit to being one of them! So I’m planning to write a series of articles to encourage people – ‘my weaders… readers’, he beamed - to get off their bums and get out there; looking at Brisbane, investigating the Gold Coast, exploring the Sunshine Coast, searching the hinterland - the lot… or as much as they can! There’s just so much to see, you know. I want them to see what we are usually all too busy to see, what’s under our very own noses!’

  ‘Good on you, Brian! Here’s to you… and your weaders! She toasted. I’m fed up with just racing from here to there and seeing nothing in between, too. It’s been a really good week for me. I’ve seen a lot and learnt a lot about dear old Brissy - Parliament House, Kangawoo Point, China Town, Tweasury Casino – and all the uza… uza stuff.’

  ‘Good on yer, girl!’

  ‘Have you seen enough, enough of Brissy, now?’ she asked.

  ‘Me? No! No way! I don’t think anyone can ever have enough of Brissy. I’m going to go on seeing it and writing about it, forever! With you, if you’ll let me?’

  ‘Hmmm… that’s an idea. It… it could be exciting,’ she said with interest.

  ‘Right! Very romantic too!’

  ‘Romantic twoo?’

  ‘Oh, yes. Very romantic, Mary, dear Mary. We could decorate the main wall of our bedroom, with all your old travel brochures of Brisbane and South East Queensland…’

  ‘And paste up all your old press-cuttings and pwictures on the others…’

  ‘Yeah! Come on,’ he said, raising his glass. ‘Here’s to Brissy-wizzy!’ ‘She’s got me doing it now.’

  ‘Brissy-wizzy, Cheers!’ they exclaimed, clinking their glasses.

  ‘And to seeing it all… together, together.’ Mary added with a seductive smile.

  ‘You betcha!’ exclaimed Brian.

  They lovingly clinked their glasses together, and cheered again: ‘Here’s to good old BRISSY-WIZZY!’

  ‘Just, just… one other th…thing,’ mumbled Brian. ‘Import… important agreements like this, need to be… legally blinding.’

  ‘Blinding?’ Mary giggled.

  ‘To be legally binding, such agreements… must be properly sealed – you know.’

  ‘How, wow, wow.’

  ‘How wow… wow?’

  ‘Yes. How…how wow, you going to do that?’ Mary asked.

  ‘Easy cheesy, the good old fashioned way, to seal something as important… as this,’ said Brian, leaning over the table and gently pulling her to him; to give her his best-ever, long, lingering, loving kiss.