Dear Diary,
Oh my! Oh my! Jack, a bathing costume – be still my beating heart! As he arose out of the sea at Queenscliff – dear heaven I nearly had a fit of the vapours – what a delight for the eyes; broad shoulders, a hint of chest hair, narrow hips gorgeous muscular thighs and arms and my imagination as to what could be under the modesty flap ... one day, dear diary, one day.
We were in Queenscliff to stay with an old friend of Aunt P's, Hilly McNaster but when we got there ... well apparently her staff had left and all she had was a sweet young man named Kip – I think he caught Jane's eye.
Now, to Hilly; odd, a bit scatty I thought, at first, then – well she seemed almost tipsy most of the time – and she was; it transpired that though it was supposed to be a Temperance household she was hiding bottles of the most awful rot gut rum around the house, honestly, dear diary, that stuff could strip paint! I'm sure the plant I tipped half a bottle into in the dining room shuddered!
I started out with a case of theft – Hilly's son, Gerald – full of his own self importance – had had some ancient coins stolen and claimed that the one the sergeant – an odious, completely useless copper – had after it was found on the shoreline was his most prized doubloon but he wouldn't give it back because Gerald had no proof it was his.
As I say, it started out as a case of theft, though I did ask Jack to help, he knows his coins, and ended up as a triple murder! THREE! I ask you, Aunt P said it was excessive even for me, as if I arrange these things for my own amusement!
Jack and I went over the evidence in my room! Oh the scandal if Aunt P knew! He read the inscription on the watch I found on the body of the fishmonger (murder no. 1) and I couldn't help but tease him as he read 'my darling' and 'golden anniversary'.
We went to the pier late that night/early the following morning – it was dark and I wasn't coming home from a club, so wrong – he smelt me coming, smelt, not heard, my perfume – tee hee! We ended up making our getaway by dropping into the water at the edge of the sand. It sounded worse than it was, we were very wet but Mr B, who has come to see to the household and train up young Kip, was able to clean Jack's suit and you would never have known he had been paddling fully dressed – should have brought his bathers with him – swoon – he does look heavenly in them. Back to the story, the Johnson's, Hilly's staff, were washed up on the shore, wrapped in tarpaulins. Long story short, they were found by two fishermen/rum smugglers and thrown into the drink when the tide should have taken them out to sea. Sounds like the kind of story me and darling Janey might have made up when we sailed our bathtub ship ... Hilly had paid them off (the Johnsons) when they tried and failed to get her off the rum, with Gerald's coin collection – he found out, found them, killed them, the coins fell through the jetty – and the doubloon he wanted back from the copper had been stolen from Melbourne university museum. He was a wrong 'un, big headed and not a very good flirt.
Aunt P has stayed on to help Hilly through the social minefield, she can be such a kind woman – sometimes and I do love her.
Wonder when I can get Jack back in those bathers – sigh!