A flight of fancy
January 1963
Christopher had never really got a long with his sister Alexandra. She was quite a bit older than he was so there was never a common ground. He always thought it a shame and often wondered if he had tried hard enough to bridge the gap himself. Easy to blame one party in a breakdown of family relationships. Harder to evaluate one's own actions and find them wanting.
The small note in the post, more of a telegram really, from her solicitor had arrived a week before to tell him of her passing. She had lived in Brisbane, Australia for as long as he could remember but he had never thought to go there himself. Now she was gone and her solicitor had asked him to attend the reading of her last will and testament. At sixty-eight he was hardly a geriatric but he felt it necessary to ask his son and daughter-in-law to accompany him. It was a long flight – over twenty-four hours of flying time with a two small stops in between.
"Dear God, Dad" Andrew moaned as he got back into the small seat in the QANTAS plane that had been their home for the best part of a day and a half. "Whatever possessed me to say yes to this?"
He wriggled and pressed his thumbs into his knotted back.
"Won't be long, now. This is the last leg."
"Thank God."
The four of them sat across one row of the plane, Andrew and Christopher on one side and Sam and their youngest child, Anthony who was still too young to be left at home on his own, sat on the other side of the aisle. The eight year old had slept for most of the journey but the adults couldn't bring themselves to do so, which might explain the overall grumpiness of the Foyle family.
"Dad?" Called Anthony across the centre aisle. Andrew tensed and drew in a breath. His father gave him a look that said 'have patience'.
"Yes, Anthony."
"Could you fly this plane?"
"Possibly, Son….it depends."
"On what?"
"What controls they use….and where it lands." Andrew gave his best answer and hoped that it would satisfy his son's curiosity.
Anthony looked up at his mother. "Mum" he whispered. Her strawberry blond hair, with just a hint of grey, fell down to cover her ear as she turned her head.
"Yes, Ant."
"I'm glad that Geoffrey and Rose aren't here."
"Are you? Why?" Her mouth curled with just a hint of amusement.
"Means I get Grampa all to myself for a loooooong time." He spread his hands wide to indicate the length and nearly took out his mother's eye.
"Grampa? Grampa?" the curios little boy said once again across the aisle.
"Don't shout across the aisle like that, Anthony. Come over here and talk to me. We've quite a while before we take off, I think."
The boy almost ran across and climbed up into his Grandfather's lap. "Will you help me find a kangaroo, Grampa? When we get to Australia?"
"I'll do my best. Can't promise anything, though."
Anthony, responding to his mother's call, climbed across his father's lap, ran back across the aisle and flopped his bottom back into the seat. Sam fixed both his and her seatbelts quite firmly then said "there we are, Anthony. Now we're ready to take off."
Christopher, impressed with Sam's management of the situation didn't notice how Andrew winced uncomfortably at the mention of the word 'take-off'. Sam did. She reached across and touched her husband's arm until he opened his eyes and looked over at her. "If you need it, I have more of those chewing sweets, darling. They helped last time, didn't they?"
He nodded. "They did. Thanks, Sam. I'll let you know." A sneaky smile reached his lips and he nodded to their overly active son. "Well done with the seatbelt, by the way. Good idea." She nodded back and smiled innocently as if she had no idea what he was talking about. Christopher couldn't help a chuckle.
ooOOoo
After almost thirty-six hours on and off planes, and being cooped up in a confined place, Christopher thought his whole body was going to cease up on him. Once the air hostess had given them the signal that it was time to exit, both Andrew and his father stood slowly. Andrew reached for his son's hand and told him sternly "now stay with us, Ant. Don't run off."
"Yes, Dad. I promise" the boy said but hopped from one foot to the other in obvious excitement.
"Stick with me, Anthony. Otherwise," his grandfather told him, "if I see a kangaroo, I won't be able to tell you."
"Yep."
"How's your head, Andrew?" Christopher asked his son with a hand on his shoulder.
"Terrible" his son replied, "but I'll survive."
"Good to hear."
Sam handed Anthony's hand to Christopher, who took it happily, and put an arm around her husband's waist. "Why don't you have a lie down when we get to the hotel, darling? We don't have to be anywhere until the morning. No rush."
"I think I might, Sam. Sorry, I'm being a bit of a grump…..don't mean to be."
"I know" she said and gave him a kiss on the cheek.
The walk across the tarmac and through the small airport seemed to free up Christopher's stiff joints but did nothing for the pain or tiredness he felt. Once they had collected their bags, they all peeled off many layers of extra clothing. Jackets and cardigans ended up back in their bags and Sam rolled up the long sleeves of her son's shirt.
"I don't think it's the heat" Sam said to her father-in-law, "It's the humidity."
"Mmmm, quite sticky" Christopher said.
"What was the name of the hotel, Dad?" Andrew asked, coming back in from the footpath. "I've got us a taxi but I don't know where we're going."
"Oh" Christopher said and fished out the paperwork from his pocket. "Regatta Hotel, Andrew. It's right on the Brisbane River. The driver might know it."
"Rightyo, Dad." He stepped back out again.
"Here," Christopher said to Sam, "let me help with those." He moved his own modest case to his right hand and picked up Sam's with the other. "Have we got everything, love?"
"Yes, I think so, Christopher. It will be marvelous to be able to relax when we get to the hotel."
"Can't disagree with that, Sam. Come on, we'll see how Andrew got on with the taxi." As Christopher took a step with his right leg, his knee clicked and creaked. His face crinkled and he placed his case on the floor to use his hand to rub up and down his aching joint. Young Anthony raced over to his Grampa's side and used his own hands to give the offending knee a rub.
"Better, Grampa?" he asked, looking hopeful.
"Much, lad. Thank you" Christopher told his grandson. "Come on, let's get to the taxi. Can't keep him waiting."
"You alright, Christopher?" Sam asked with a genuine look of compassion.
"I am, love. Come on."
After a somewhat uncomfortable journey, with Andrew in the front seat and Christopher, Anthony and Sam across the back, they made their way into the ground floor of the hotel. Andrew turned over his shoulder to take in the view. "Quite a beautiful river" he said.
"It is" the young man behind the desk said with a nod of agreement. "You'll get a better view from the floor above. Here, I'll help you with these."
"Thank you" Christopher said to the young man as he practically ran up and down the internal stairs with their bags.
"If you're up early enough, you'll see the boats go up and down. The University, just around the bend, uses the river for their rowing team."
"What time is dinner served?" Andrew asked the lad after all of their bags had been deposited into their respective rooms.
"Between six and seven thirty" the lad replied. "Chef will refuse to cook after that."
"Right" Christopher said with a surprised smile. He turned to speak to Andrew and Sam. "We've still got an hour or so before we have to head on down for dinner. I'll take the lad, give you and Sam a break. A rest will do you good."
"Thanks, Dad" Andrew told him as he stretched and tried to unknot his aching back and neck.
"Yes, thank you" Sam said with a grateful smile.
That smile alone was worth putting up with the pain in his knee for a bit longer.
"Can I go and sit on the balcony, Grampa?" Anthony asked rather excitedly.
"If you're careful, lad. And I think they call it a verandah."
Christopher was unpacking his back, keeping a covert eye on his grandson's activities while he did so.
"Can I sleep in here with you, Grampa? Staying with Mum and Dad is boring." He gave an over exaggerated bend of his knees as he said the word 'boring'. It made his grandfather smile.
"If it's alright with your mother, yes you can. Ask her first, though."
"Ace!" He continued his observations of the fast flowing river as he exclaimed.
Christopher came up behind his youngest grandson and placed his hands on the lad's shoulders. The cool breeze hit both of them in the face while they watched the river run by.
"Oh, look at that!" Christopher suddenly said.
"What, Grampa?"
"Look down by the river, beside the tallest gum tree."
"Which one's the gum tree, Grampa?"
"The one with the grey speckled trunk and thin leaves, Ant."
"Oh, okay." He said and pointed to the tree that he believed his grandfather spoke of. "That one?"
"Yes, that one. Look beside it. What do you see."
"Oh, wow, Grampa. I've only been in Australia for a little while and I've already seen a kangaroo!"
Christopher couldn't help but smile.