My thanks for this chapter go to:
1) Adam East, the writer of the 4 part Guide to Australian Rules Football [URL], for his invaluable reference material;
2) To my father for twenty years of winter Saturdays and Sundays watching first VLF, then AFL on the TV;
3) To my brother Michael, for mercifully not getting involved in the sport.
4) Carna Dockers! [URL here - what the hells!]
**The Southport Derby**
Football was starting to become a divisive issue at number 33. It had all started when Boris came home on extended leave, of course. He'd immediately been welcomed back by the West Bank club with open arms, as they'd been missing their best goal-scorer. Arthur is playing for Southport, so as a result, any discussion of football on the local scene turns somewhat personal. Fortunately, most of the household supports the Georgetown Eagles for the national competition, so that's one less thing to argue about. I'm about the only holdout there, but since I affect an absolute indifference to football (the only reason I'm going to the matches at all is family loyalty) nobody seems to have noticed.
Anyway, as a grand season opener, the local league decided to kick things off with a Southport Derby. The Demons versus the Warriors at the local oval. It's one of two derbies for the season, with the other happening as the grand season closer. Of course, the three men have been out training for this for ages, all doing their running together (Larry doesn't play for either team; he umpires). George apparently coaches the little league team for the Warriors, so he's been out running with them as well.
It was the first weekend in April. The weather was still reasonably warm, although the evenings were starting to get chilly and the breeze was brisk by mid-afternoon. I'd been asked to come along to the match by the whole household (mainly because if were were all there, we could all avoid three different re-tellings of the same match). This was apparently standard household policy for the Southport derbies. I could see it becoming standard policy on my part when the Northcote under-19s and under-15s teams played down here, too, simply so I could say to Neil and Keith "yes, I know". I was wearing a comfortable jumper and jeans, which meant that I was under-dressed, compared to a lot of the women there. Or possibly over-dressed. There seemed to be a lot of midriff tops, skimpy skirts and gooseflesh in evidence in the female part of the crowd. This apparently included Vicki, Dale, Sheryl and Keighleigh, who'd all agreed to come with me to the footy. I asked the obvious question.
"So, why are you lot all tarted up?"
"Well," Dale laughed, "there's all those spunky guys right there on the ground in front of us. We'd be fools if we didn't give them some kind of incentive to play well!"
"Yeah. And of course the spunkiest of the lot is that one!" said Sheryl, pointing a finger at a figure in black and red who was involved in the warm-up run around the ground. Arthur. Of course. I'd forgotten Sheryl's crush on him.
Meanwhile, Vicki was looking hotly at the opposite team. "I'll take... that one," she said, pointing her finger at one of the men in blue and white.
"That's my uncle Boris," I told her.
"You are *kidding*," she squealed. "You are *sooooo* lucky!"
"Okay, Sarah," Dale said. "Time for you to earn your keep. One introduction each, I think."
"There's three of you, two of them. Who's going to be missing out?" I grinned back.
"No, one introduction for each of us to each of them," Dale clarified.
"Sheesh, I dunno, bloody law students," I laughed at her. "Okay, you're all on. C'mon, I'll introduce you to the rest of the household. Well, almost all of them."
I led them over to where the others were and introduced everyone to everyone else. There was a slight distraction when the umpires ran onto the field and Dale went all weak at the knees.
"Ooh, who's the blond one?" she said, sounding somewhat awe-struck. I looked where she was pointing. Yup, thought so.
"That's Larry. He's the missing one of the household," I sighed. Mark gave me a funny look.
"I'll tell you later," I told him. "That's if you haven't guessed by then." I glanced over at my three friends, all of whom were directing languishing looks at the field and sighed again. Sam appeared to notice where my glance went and chuckled.
"So, Sarah, who's your pick as the spunkiest?" The question came from Vicki, who'd drawn herself out of her hormonally-induced coma to actually realise that I hadn't chosen a target for my attentions. I snorted. If I was honest, I was pretty much tied between Arthur and Boris, both of whom looked very, very nice indeed, although I'd rather have been burned at the stake than admit it. Larry was a bit thin for my liking and most of the other men on the field were a bit young for my taste. I decided to be purposefully vague.
"Too close to pick," I said. "How about you, Keighleigh?". Keighleigh seemed to be in a bit of a brown study. I waved a hand in front of her face. "Earth to Keighleigh, come in Keighleigh!"
She shook herself out of her bemusement. "Oh, sorry. I was just watching... Duck, was it?"
I looked over where she had been watching. Yup, there was Duck, who was acting as a runner for the Demons. Interesting, it appeared that Keighleigh had decided to fall for Duck in a big way. Which was very sweet, except that he had no idea that she was even vaguely interested in him. Knowing the way that computer types tend to be about things like noticing interactions with the opposite sex, I thought some advice might be in order. Then again, given that Keighleigh was a very aristocratic looking blonde lass, maybe she wouldn't appreciate it. Of course, on the gripping hand....
"Look, Keighleigh, I don't mean to pry, but..."
"You want to know how I feel about Duck? I like him. He's interesting, funny and good company. He doesn't treat me as though I were something special just because of who my father is, he listens to what I'm saying and he doesn't talk down to me either. I really like him. I just wish I knew how he felt about me."
"Hmm... well, judging from what he says in the car on the way home, he likes you, too," I told her. Her eyes lit up. "Hey, hey, I just said 'likes'. He also likes Sheryl, Maggie, Dale and Vicki, as well as Red, Stewie, Eric and Blue. He thinks of you as a friend, a mate, if you will. You're friendly to him, he's friendly to you. Duck's fairly uncomplicated that way, I've noticed. No bullshit."
"You've noticed that too? I think that was the first thing I liked about him," she said, smiling.
A cheer from around us - there'd been a goal scored, the first of the match. The Warriors and Boris was surrounded by team-mates patting him on the back. Vicki was jumping up and down and squealing "Go the Warriors". Another centre bounce; Dale was busy commenting on Larry's skill at doing the bounce.
Keighleigh and I looked at one another and laughed. "We're missing one," I murmured to her, just as Sheryl let loose a terrific yell of "Goooo Demons!" that was probably heard halfway to Georgetown. Well, probably not quite *that* far, but I was expecting a couple of questions from Mother about it tonight when she phoned from Northcote. The yell coincided with Arthur gaining possession of the ball in a ruck duel against the Warriors ruckman, who unfortunately was missing a crucial inch in height compared with my uncle. The Warriors defence were good, but not quite good enough and Arthur managed to pass the ball off to one of the Demons forwards, who scored a goal. One all, six points on the board for each team. Only about three minutes into the match, too.
I looked at the queue at the refreshments stand (a caravan wedged up on blocks). Not that big, but it would probably get worse fairly quickly. I looked over at Keighleigh. "How do you feel about doing a drinks run?" I asked her.
She nodded. "Sounds like a good idea. Shall we ask the rest of your housemates as well?"
"Yeah, why not. It'll give me something to do. I don't mind footy, but honestly, I'd rather watch the edited highlights in front of the telly." I shrugged. "Side effect of two younger brothers fanatically interested in the sport from the time they were old enough to get into Little League and of a mother who insists on family participation."
Keighleigh looked at me sympathetically and gave me a big smile. "I can quite understand that. I feel much the same way about equestrian events. Horses are all very nice, but standing around for three days while my sister evented gave me sore feet and chilblains." We both laughed together, then walked over to ask everyone what they wanted to drink.
"Okay, that's three Cokes, one without ice; one bottle of water; one white tea, sugars are in the container there; one black tea; two cappuccinos; two flat whites. That'll be twenty dollars, thanks."
I juggled out the money and started collecting the various cups. The woman behind the counter of the refreshments van noticed that we had ten drinks and four hands, and decided to come to our assistance.
"Here, lovey, use this," she told me, handing over a tray. Keighleigh and I both smiled at her.
"Thanks. We'll bring it straight back," I told her. She just smiled at us and helped to put the cups onto it, then threw on about six teaspoons and a dozen sugars. Once we had all of that sorted out, Keighleigh and I made our way back to our party, Keighleigh (being taller than I was) had taken possession of the tray, while I acted as icebreaker cum dredge, finding a path through the crowd that was gathering around the refreshment van.
"All I can say, Sarah, is thank goodness you had that notebook and pencil on hand", she told me as we slowly wandered back. "Otherwise we'd be getting complaints from everyone. I couldn't have kept that amount of information straight."
"Old girl Guide trick," I said. "Be prepared. Actually, it's something I picked up when I was at yet another sporting event with my family. I don't mind being the drinks runner for a large gathering, so I'd do the drinks for my family and any of the families of my brother's friends who wound up being anywhere near us. After the first time I stuffed up a large order, I started carrying the notebook and the pencil as a precaution. Entirely too practical, me."
We made our way back to where everyone else was sitting (or at least, Gus was sitting, most of the rest were standing, leaning over the fence and yelling at the top of their lungs). I took a look at the action on the field. Boris had the ball and was running flat out trying to get within range of the goal square, while Arthur was in full pursuit. Larry was keeping pace with the two of them, keeping an eye on the state of play, while George was running down the sidelines keeping up with the main action. Duck was running down the sidelines on the other side of the field. The action came to an abrupt end when Arthur tackled Boris, resulting in possession of the ball going to the Demons (one of their backs grabbed it). I was probably the only one who actually remained watching the action behind play, as Arthur helped Boris up and the two of them swapped a grin, a comment and a clasp of arms. Hmm... interesting. Another piece of information to add to the puzzle that was my two "uncles".
Anyway, after the fun had happened, everyone else in the group seemed to notice that Keighleigh and I had arrived with the drinks. We handed out refreshments to everyone. I took the tray back to the drinks stand and decided to grab a seat next to Gus. I took a look at the scoreboard. Demons, two goals; Warriors, one goal, two behinds. Looked like the Warriors were doing better on possessions, but the Demons had the accuracy. I made this comment within Vicki's hearing and nearly got deafened by her shriek of indignation. Vicki's a nice enough friend, but she does tend to live life at the extremes of her vocal cords. It gets a bit wearing when you're on the listening end. I turned away to drink in peace and noticed that Sam was looking at me, slightly curiously. I gave him a smile and started watching the game a little more closely.
I've never really had more than a passing interest in football, although I've learned a lot more about the game than I ever wanted to through living with Neil and Keith. Either way, I could tell from what I was seeing before me that there were maybe about a half dozen footballers on the ground who were "district" team quality. Then there were my two uncles, who quite frankly would have slotted nicely into the Georgetown Eagles without having to do more than change jerseys. It was a bit of a mystery to me what they were doing just playing in a couple of district league teams. Surely they must have been approached by talent scouts? Something more to consider, I suppose.
The first quarter ended with a score of six goals, five behinds (41 points total) to the Demons; five goals, six behinds (36 points) to the Warriors. The two teams changed ends and both of my uncles were off the ground onto the interchange bench. Of course, this was the signal for both Vicki and Sheryl to grab me and demand introductions, something which I declined to do.
"Not until after the game, okay?" I told them both. "They're still concentrating on the game and if you break that concentration, they'll probably both be angry. Is that the first impression you want to make?" Two heads shaken. Phew, I'd managed to fob them both off. I watched the game a bit further. With the absence of Arthur and Boris, the two teams still seemed to be fairly evenly matched. The Demons weren't winning the ruck duels quite as readily, the Warriors weren't kicking as many goals and the overall scoring rate slowed down a fair amount, but by the end of the second quarter, the Warriors were in the lead, seven goals twelve (54 points) to seven goals six (48 points) to the Demons.
Half time and everyone was hungry and thirsty again. Keighleigh and I volunteered to do the snack and drink run, scribbled down the orders in the notebook and headed up to the refreshments van. This time we were accompanied by Fred, who had his own "special" order that he had to place personally. We were going to join the queue, but Fred told us to follow him around to the back of the caravan. Shrugging, we did so; ordering for ten people entitled us to some kind of special treatment, after all. When we got there, Fred scrambled up the steps and knocked on the door. The door was answered by the woman who had served us earlier.
"Hullo Joy," Fred greeted her.
"Ah, Fred!," she cried, reaching down to give him a hug. "I was wondering when you'd turn up!"
"Well, I'm here now and after my usual," he told her, with a big smile. "Oh, and I'd like to introduce you to someone." He turned to me, gesturing for me to come forward. From the top step, he was just the right height to be able to put his arm around my shoulders. "This is Sarah, Arthur's niece. She's sharing the house with us this year while she studies at the university."
Joy looked at me and apparently recognised me. "Oh yes, the lass with the large drinks order. I should've guessed!" She extended a hand, which I took and shook. "Pleased to meet you. Are you going to be coming to the matches regularly?"
"I think so," I told her. "Not only are both Arthur and Boris my uncles, but my brothers are both on the Northcote sides. I think you'll be seeing a lot of me this year."
"And who's the other lass there?" Joy asked
I beckoned Keighleigh forward. "This is Keighleigh, she's a friend of mine from Uni. Neither of us are all that interested in football, so we volunteered to do the food and drinks runs."
Keighleigh shook hands with Joy and exchanged all the normal pleasantries.
"Well," Joy stated at the end of the introductions, "if you're both going to be regulars, with large orders, I'd say you'd be better off coming up to the back here, rather than waiting in the queue. I've no problems with it, but do try not to coincide with the rush times, like half time."
I was very pleased with this (waiting in queues has never been my favourite form of entertainment) and thanked Joy for the privilege she'd granted us. "Ah, that's no trouble, love," she said, waving the thanks off. "It's easier all round to give out large orders through the back door. Now, what can we do for you at this point?"
I pulled out the notebook from my bag, which got a grin from Joy.
"Ah, an organised lass! I'll have to see whether I can get you working here!" I grinned back and ripped off the sheet with the orders on it.
"Will this be easier for you?" I asked. A nod from Joy, who accepted the sheet and scanned it briefly.
"Hmm... some of these might take a bit of cooking. It'll be about five minutes. D'you mind waiting?"
Keighleigh and I both shook our heads. I actually appreciated the relative quiet behind the van, as I find myself rather sensitive to too much noise. Besides, this got me away from the rampant hormones of Sheryl, Vicki and Dale; as far as I was concerned, this was a Good Thing. Particularly in the cases of Sheryl and Vicki, both of whom were making me rather irritated with their very obvious drooling over my two uncles. Mainly, I have to admit, because I wanted to join them and couldn't. Or at least, not publicly.
I suppose this must have been showing on my face (I've never been particularly good at hiding my emotions) or maybe Keighleigh was just thinking along the same lines, for she asked me out of the blue, "Sarah, what's the actual relationship between yourself and your uncles? I mean, are they on your father's side, your mother's side, what's the story there?"
"I'm not actually sure, to be honest," I replied. "I mean, I'm reasonably sure that they're related to me through mother's side of the family, because she's the one who brought us to visit when we were younger. But I don't know for certain what the relationship is. I suppose it's one of those sort of fifth-cousin-twice-removed-by-marriage things. I've just always been told to call them 'uncle' because they're older than I am."
"Hmm. I thought as much," was the rather surprising reply. "You don't look all that much like them, to be honest. You've got a few similarities around the eyes and the cheekbones, but aside from that, there's not much family resemblance to be seen. I had to look really hard just to see that, too."
"That's true," said Fred, from where he was sitting at the top of the caravan steps. I'd forgotten he'd come around here with us; he's very good at fading into the background when he wants to. Must be a side-effect of being a librarian. "Actually, the main way that Sarah resembles either of them is in her behaviour."
"You what?" I queried. Not very coherently, I must admit.
"Your behaviour," Fred reiterated. "From the very start, you've treated myself, Mark, Pip and Sam like adults, rather than like children, which has been rather refreshing. Plus you've got a few characteristics in common with both of them. You're very responsible, very dutiful and very much focussed on getting the job done. You look after people and you try to take care of everything."
I blushed. "Oh, come *on*, that makes me sound like an angel," I said. "I'm not that bloody good."
"Well, no," Keighleigh agreed. "You're also pig-headedly stubborn, bad tempered and you swear like a trooper whenever anything goes wrong. But at the time when you're swearing, you're also figuring out how to fix whatever it is. I saw that the other day, when Duck's car broke down in the rain."
Fred laughed. "Now, that definitely sounds like both Arthur and Boris. Particularly Boris."
I blushed even more. Luckily, at that point I was saved any further blushes, by Joy opening up the door of the caravan and bringing out two trays with our orders on them. Food, drinks and one "meat pie floater".
"Oh good, you remembered!" said Fred, smiling up at Joy as he paid for the combined orders.
Keighleigh, meanwhile, was looking at the "floater" with something very much akin to barely-concealed horror. Oh yes, I'd forgotten. She hadn't seen one before. Lucky girl. I looked over at Fred.
"Okay, when did you get a taste for those?" I asked
"Oh, some years ago, when I was living in Melbourne," he replied. "They're actually quite nice, but Joy's the only person around here who'll make them for me."
"I'm not surprised," I commented dryly. "Most right-thinking people on this side of the continent tend to see them as aberrations against the true nature of the meat pie. You get to carry that one yourself, Fred."
He grinned at me and took the "floater" off the tray. We headed back to the rest of the group. Duck was leaning up against the fence near the rest of them, laughing with Sheryl about something. Vicki and Dale were talking with Mark and Pip, although from the looks on the faces of that little foursome, none of them were really enjoying it all that much. Gus was buried deep in his newspaper, but looked up at the smell of the food. I walked over to where he was sitting and handed him his meal and his second cup of tea.
"Thank you very much, Sarah dear. You're a good girl to do all of this for us all," he commented, as he took the lid off the cup. I grinned.
"Naah, it's just that I'm not that fond of football," I explained. "Doing the food and drink runs gives me something to do."
I got a smile from the old man, one that had a twinkle lying deep within it and seemed to imply that he knew my true reasons better than I did myself. Well, then again, maybe he did. It's not as though I'm the world's best liar, after all. I wandered over to where Mark and Pip were standing and offered them their food and drinks. Vicki and Dale had moved off to get their stuff from Keighleigh, who'd made a beeline to where Sheryl was standing.
"Thanks, Sarah," they both said, tucking into the pie, chips and gravy that they'd each ordered. I looked around for Sam, because I had a burger on my tray which looked like being his, as well as Keighleigh's hot dog. Obviously we'd got the wrong trays when Joy handed them over. Sam materialised at my elbow, or at least that's what it seemed like (although I'm sure that he'd actually been off at the Gents, dealling with the queue there). I handed him his food and drink, received a "thank you" from him and looked around to find Keighleigh.
I soon found her standing just behind Sheryl, who was still monopolising Duck. If looks had any power at all, Sheryl would have been stretched dead upon the ground, with several large knives in her back. As it was, I had to try my hardest not to burst out laughing at the sight. I would have thought by now that Keighleigh was aware of Sheryl's bad habit of flirting with just about anything male in range. Apparently not.
"Keighleigh, I think I've got your hot dog here," I called, from about five steps away. "D'you have my ham, cheese & tomato sandwich?"
That distracted all three of them long enough that I was able to cover the remaining distance and greet Duck. Keighleigh had enough time to regain her composure and smile as she swapped the hot dog for the sandwich. I grabbed her tray from her to take back with me. I asked Sheryl to accompany me, on the excuse that I needed to go to the loo and for that, I needed someone to hold the toilet door (I didn't know about the last, but going on the standard lock on most public conveniences, I was pretty sure it would be accurate). Sheryl agreed willingly; apparently she had to go as well. We went past the refreshments van, where I dropped off the trays at the front. Then we made our way to the loos. The length of the queue was enough that I'd had time to scoff my sandwich by the time that I got near the toilet block.
"Okay, Sarah, what are you up to?" Sheryl asked, just as soon as I'd got safely into a cubicle.
"Saving your life," I told her. "If you'd spoken to Duck for just three minutes more, I think Keighleigh would have tried to kill you."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean that Keighleigh likes Duck. Really likes Duck."
"Oh. Oh! Oh, I see."
"Yup, but no teasing her about it. Otherwise, I tell my uncle precisely how you feel about him. Got that?"
"Sarah, you are *evil*! Okay, I won't tease her. And I'll stop flirting with Duck so much. I don't want him in that way at all, you know."
"Yeah, I know. I know, you know, Duck knows, but Keighleigh can't quite believe it, especially when you keep flirting with him."
"Point taken, already! Now hurry up in there. I need to go too!"
When we came out, the third quarter was under way. Sheryl headed straight for the fences at high speed, to try and see whether Arthur was on interchange this quarter (he wasn't; I'd looked on the field for his number. He was chasing after the ball, which was in posession of the Warriors ruckman). I made my way back in a more leisurely fashion, winding up next to Sam.
"How're you liking the game, Sarah?" he asked me.
"It's pretty good. Looks like it's going to be close if things continue this way."
"The derbies usually are. Arthur and Boris always enjoy them."
"I'm not surprised. They're probably the best players on the field. I'm surprised they're not playing in the WAFL, or even in the Eagles squad. Is the local recruiter blind or something?"
Sam laughed. "No, he's not blind. That's him over there." He pointed out a tall, solid man, who was watching the game with binoculars and a sour expression. "He asks them about three or four times a season each, but they both say that they like it too much here."
"Even Boris? I thought he was with the army?"
"He is. He keeps coming back here on leave, though. The Warriors are looking forward to this season, because he's going to be here for all of it. Generally, they only get him for the few matches of his furloughs. From what George was saying earlier this week, I think they're hoping to get the championship cup for the first time in years."
"Hmm. Yeah, I know that Northcote has hopes for the cup in the Colts division. Keith was fairly enthusiastic about it. I think I'm going to be spending a lot of Saturdays here, to be honest."
"Fred was saying that Joy seemed fairly enthusiastic about having you on the refreshment stand crew."
"I thought she was joking. That's what it seemed like, anyway."
"No, if Joy's mentioned it, she's serious. You might want to think about it; after all, it'd give you something better to do than just doing food and drink runs for us."
I thought about this for a bit. A question came to mind. "Sam, who did the food and drink runs before I came along?"
"I did." He grinned at me. I laughed back.
"And you'd like your distraction back, I take it?"
"Well, if you don't mind, Miss Sarah." Would you believe, he actually seemed shy about it. I gave him a big smile, then stood up.
"I think it's about time for another drinks run, don't you? I've got the order from last time; shall we check whether everyone wants the same thing again?"
He grinned back at me.
We walked up to the refreshment stand slowly, after checking that everyone wanted another drink. Same as last time, so I didn't have to throw out my notepad page. Joy greeted us both at the back door.
"Hello Sam, nice to see you again. How's the garden doing?"
"Oh, it's doing fine, Joy. Getting some very nice cabbages this year. Lemons might be a bit of a problem, though. Too much salt spray from the wind this year, one of them's got rather badly burned."
"Hullo Joy," I said. She smiled at me. "I've got another drink order here and the money ready as well."
"Oh good. Let's have a look then; ah, same as last time. Won't be a tick, lovey."
Joy was as good as her word and quickly assembled the drinks on a tray.
"There you go."
"Thanks," I said. "Just out of interest, were you serious about what you said earlier? About wanting me to work here?"
"Oh yes. I could do with another set of hands and I could definitely do with another organised person; it'd give me a chance to have a cuppa of my own at times."
"Well, I'm going to have to be out here just about every weekend, it's looking like: on top of George, Arthur, Boris and Larry, I've got two brothers in the Northcote teams and my mother would have fits if I weren't here to watch the games. You've got a good view of the scoreboard there, so I should be fine."
Joy laughed, a big laugh full of happiness. "I'll let you in on a secret, lovey: my husband's the one who runs the scoreboard, so I have to be here every week, from go to whoa!"
"You don't like football either?"
"This type? Can't stand it. Not like the proper stuff."
"The proper stuff, as far as Joy is concerned, is Rugby," Sam dropped in. "Shall we take the drinks back before they get cold?"
"Oh, yeah. See you next week, Joy?"
"Yup. Be here around 9am and I'll show you how we open up, okay?"
I nodded my agreement and took the tray back with Sam leading the way. Then we both distributed the drinks and Sam took the tray back.
Without the distraction of another food or drinks run, I wound up watching the rest of the match with the gang. The game turned out really tight, with the Demons winning by 1 point over the Warriors. The final scoreline wound up being eleven goals, ten behinds (76 points total) to the Demons, ten goals, fifteen points (75 points total) to the Warriors. Sheryl was overjoyed, especially given that Arthur had scored what she termed to be the winning behind (it had happened about ten minutes into the third quarter and had evened up the scores at that time). Vicki was only marginally less happy and Dale was overjoyed about the quality of the umpiring (or so she said, anyway. I wasn't going to argue, it wasn't worth it). We all waited by the changeroom doors at the back of the stands and greeted Arthur, Larry and Boris when they all came out. As I'd promised earlier, I introduced each of my friends to the three of them. They got a polite "hello" from Larry, a friendly one from Arthur and a cheerful one from Boris. They also got invited over for dinner by Gus (it was Sam's turn to cook and he's a very good cook when it comes to stretching a meal a little further) as did Duck. Everyone accepted and we set off home.
***
"Now why did Gus do that?"
"It's a habit of his."
"What do you mean?"
"Think about it."
"Oh. Oh yes."
***
1) Adam East, the writer of the 4 part Guide to Australian Rules Football [URL], for his invaluable reference material;
2) To my father for twenty years of winter Saturdays and Sundays watching first VLF, then AFL on the TV;
3) To my brother Michael, for mercifully not getting involved in the sport.
4) Carna Dockers! [URL here - what the hells!]
**The Southport Derby**
Football was starting to become a divisive issue at number 33. It had all started when Boris came home on extended leave, of course. He'd immediately been welcomed back by the West Bank club with open arms, as they'd been missing their best goal-scorer. Arthur is playing for Southport, so as a result, any discussion of football on the local scene turns somewhat personal. Fortunately, most of the household supports the Georgetown Eagles for the national competition, so that's one less thing to argue about. I'm about the only holdout there, but since I affect an absolute indifference to football (the only reason I'm going to the matches at all is family loyalty) nobody seems to have noticed.
Anyway, as a grand season opener, the local league decided to kick things off with a Southport Derby. The Demons versus the Warriors at the local oval. It's one of two derbies for the season, with the other happening as the grand season closer. Of course, the three men have been out training for this for ages, all doing their running together (Larry doesn't play for either team; he umpires). George apparently coaches the little league team for the Warriors, so he's been out running with them as well.
It was the first weekend in April. The weather was still reasonably warm, although the evenings were starting to get chilly and the breeze was brisk by mid-afternoon. I'd been asked to come along to the match by the whole household (mainly because if were were all there, we could all avoid three different re-tellings of the same match). This was apparently standard household policy for the Southport derbies. I could see it becoming standard policy on my part when the Northcote under-19s and under-15s teams played down here, too, simply so I could say to Neil and Keith "yes, I know". I was wearing a comfortable jumper and jeans, which meant that I was under-dressed, compared to a lot of the women there. Or possibly over-dressed. There seemed to be a lot of midriff tops, skimpy skirts and gooseflesh in evidence in the female part of the crowd. This apparently included Vicki, Dale, Sheryl and Keighleigh, who'd all agreed to come with me to the footy. I asked the obvious question.
"So, why are you lot all tarted up?"
"Well," Dale laughed, "there's all those spunky guys right there on the ground in front of us. We'd be fools if we didn't give them some kind of incentive to play well!"
"Yeah. And of course the spunkiest of the lot is that one!" said Sheryl, pointing a finger at a figure in black and red who was involved in the warm-up run around the ground. Arthur. Of course. I'd forgotten Sheryl's crush on him.
Meanwhile, Vicki was looking hotly at the opposite team. "I'll take... that one," she said, pointing her finger at one of the men in blue and white.
"That's my uncle Boris," I told her.
"You are *kidding*," she squealed. "You are *sooooo* lucky!"
"Okay, Sarah," Dale said. "Time for you to earn your keep. One introduction each, I think."
"There's three of you, two of them. Who's going to be missing out?" I grinned back.
"No, one introduction for each of us to each of them," Dale clarified.
"Sheesh, I dunno, bloody law students," I laughed at her. "Okay, you're all on. C'mon, I'll introduce you to the rest of the household. Well, almost all of them."
I led them over to where the others were and introduced everyone to everyone else. There was a slight distraction when the umpires ran onto the field and Dale went all weak at the knees.
"Ooh, who's the blond one?" she said, sounding somewhat awe-struck. I looked where she was pointing. Yup, thought so.
"That's Larry. He's the missing one of the household," I sighed. Mark gave me a funny look.
"I'll tell you later," I told him. "That's if you haven't guessed by then." I glanced over at my three friends, all of whom were directing languishing looks at the field and sighed again. Sam appeared to notice where my glance went and chuckled.
"So, Sarah, who's your pick as the spunkiest?" The question came from Vicki, who'd drawn herself out of her hormonally-induced coma to actually realise that I hadn't chosen a target for my attentions. I snorted. If I was honest, I was pretty much tied between Arthur and Boris, both of whom looked very, very nice indeed, although I'd rather have been burned at the stake than admit it. Larry was a bit thin for my liking and most of the other men on the field were a bit young for my taste. I decided to be purposefully vague.
"Too close to pick," I said. "How about you, Keighleigh?". Keighleigh seemed to be in a bit of a brown study. I waved a hand in front of her face. "Earth to Keighleigh, come in Keighleigh!"
She shook herself out of her bemusement. "Oh, sorry. I was just watching... Duck, was it?"
I looked over where she had been watching. Yup, there was Duck, who was acting as a runner for the Demons. Interesting, it appeared that Keighleigh had decided to fall for Duck in a big way. Which was very sweet, except that he had no idea that she was even vaguely interested in him. Knowing the way that computer types tend to be about things like noticing interactions with the opposite sex, I thought some advice might be in order. Then again, given that Keighleigh was a very aristocratic looking blonde lass, maybe she wouldn't appreciate it. Of course, on the gripping hand....
"Look, Keighleigh, I don't mean to pry, but..."
"You want to know how I feel about Duck? I like him. He's interesting, funny and good company. He doesn't treat me as though I were something special just because of who my father is, he listens to what I'm saying and he doesn't talk down to me either. I really like him. I just wish I knew how he felt about me."
"Hmm... well, judging from what he says in the car on the way home, he likes you, too," I told her. Her eyes lit up. "Hey, hey, I just said 'likes'. He also likes Sheryl, Maggie, Dale and Vicki, as well as Red, Stewie, Eric and Blue. He thinks of you as a friend, a mate, if you will. You're friendly to him, he's friendly to you. Duck's fairly uncomplicated that way, I've noticed. No bullshit."
"You've noticed that too? I think that was the first thing I liked about him," she said, smiling.
A cheer from around us - there'd been a goal scored, the first of the match. The Warriors and Boris was surrounded by team-mates patting him on the back. Vicki was jumping up and down and squealing "Go the Warriors". Another centre bounce; Dale was busy commenting on Larry's skill at doing the bounce.
Keighleigh and I looked at one another and laughed. "We're missing one," I murmured to her, just as Sheryl let loose a terrific yell of "Goooo Demons!" that was probably heard halfway to Georgetown. Well, probably not quite *that* far, but I was expecting a couple of questions from Mother about it tonight when she phoned from Northcote. The yell coincided with Arthur gaining possession of the ball in a ruck duel against the Warriors ruckman, who unfortunately was missing a crucial inch in height compared with my uncle. The Warriors defence were good, but not quite good enough and Arthur managed to pass the ball off to one of the Demons forwards, who scored a goal. One all, six points on the board for each team. Only about three minutes into the match, too.
I looked at the queue at the refreshments stand (a caravan wedged up on blocks). Not that big, but it would probably get worse fairly quickly. I looked over at Keighleigh. "How do you feel about doing a drinks run?" I asked her.
She nodded. "Sounds like a good idea. Shall we ask the rest of your housemates as well?"
"Yeah, why not. It'll give me something to do. I don't mind footy, but honestly, I'd rather watch the edited highlights in front of the telly." I shrugged. "Side effect of two younger brothers fanatically interested in the sport from the time they were old enough to get into Little League and of a mother who insists on family participation."
Keighleigh looked at me sympathetically and gave me a big smile. "I can quite understand that. I feel much the same way about equestrian events. Horses are all very nice, but standing around for three days while my sister evented gave me sore feet and chilblains." We both laughed together, then walked over to ask everyone what they wanted to drink.
"Okay, that's three Cokes, one without ice; one bottle of water; one white tea, sugars are in the container there; one black tea; two cappuccinos; two flat whites. That'll be twenty dollars, thanks."
I juggled out the money and started collecting the various cups. The woman behind the counter of the refreshments van noticed that we had ten drinks and four hands, and decided to come to our assistance.
"Here, lovey, use this," she told me, handing over a tray. Keighleigh and I both smiled at her.
"Thanks. We'll bring it straight back," I told her. She just smiled at us and helped to put the cups onto it, then threw on about six teaspoons and a dozen sugars. Once we had all of that sorted out, Keighleigh and I made our way back to our party, Keighleigh (being taller than I was) had taken possession of the tray, while I acted as icebreaker cum dredge, finding a path through the crowd that was gathering around the refreshment van.
"All I can say, Sarah, is thank goodness you had that notebook and pencil on hand", she told me as we slowly wandered back. "Otherwise we'd be getting complaints from everyone. I couldn't have kept that amount of information straight."
"Old girl Guide trick," I said. "Be prepared. Actually, it's something I picked up when I was at yet another sporting event with my family. I don't mind being the drinks runner for a large gathering, so I'd do the drinks for my family and any of the families of my brother's friends who wound up being anywhere near us. After the first time I stuffed up a large order, I started carrying the notebook and the pencil as a precaution. Entirely too practical, me."
We made our way back to where everyone else was sitting (or at least, Gus was sitting, most of the rest were standing, leaning over the fence and yelling at the top of their lungs). I took a look at the action on the field. Boris had the ball and was running flat out trying to get within range of the goal square, while Arthur was in full pursuit. Larry was keeping pace with the two of them, keeping an eye on the state of play, while George was running down the sidelines keeping up with the main action. Duck was running down the sidelines on the other side of the field. The action came to an abrupt end when Arthur tackled Boris, resulting in possession of the ball going to the Demons (one of their backs grabbed it). I was probably the only one who actually remained watching the action behind play, as Arthur helped Boris up and the two of them swapped a grin, a comment and a clasp of arms. Hmm... interesting. Another piece of information to add to the puzzle that was my two "uncles".
Anyway, after the fun had happened, everyone else in the group seemed to notice that Keighleigh and I had arrived with the drinks. We handed out refreshments to everyone. I took the tray back to the drinks stand and decided to grab a seat next to Gus. I took a look at the scoreboard. Demons, two goals; Warriors, one goal, two behinds. Looked like the Warriors were doing better on possessions, but the Demons had the accuracy. I made this comment within Vicki's hearing and nearly got deafened by her shriek of indignation. Vicki's a nice enough friend, but she does tend to live life at the extremes of her vocal cords. It gets a bit wearing when you're on the listening end. I turned away to drink in peace and noticed that Sam was looking at me, slightly curiously. I gave him a smile and started watching the game a little more closely.
I've never really had more than a passing interest in football, although I've learned a lot more about the game than I ever wanted to through living with Neil and Keith. Either way, I could tell from what I was seeing before me that there were maybe about a half dozen footballers on the ground who were "district" team quality. Then there were my two uncles, who quite frankly would have slotted nicely into the Georgetown Eagles without having to do more than change jerseys. It was a bit of a mystery to me what they were doing just playing in a couple of district league teams. Surely they must have been approached by talent scouts? Something more to consider, I suppose.
The first quarter ended with a score of six goals, five behinds (41 points total) to the Demons; five goals, six behinds (36 points) to the Warriors. The two teams changed ends and both of my uncles were off the ground onto the interchange bench. Of course, this was the signal for both Vicki and Sheryl to grab me and demand introductions, something which I declined to do.
"Not until after the game, okay?" I told them both. "They're still concentrating on the game and if you break that concentration, they'll probably both be angry. Is that the first impression you want to make?" Two heads shaken. Phew, I'd managed to fob them both off. I watched the game a bit further. With the absence of Arthur and Boris, the two teams still seemed to be fairly evenly matched. The Demons weren't winning the ruck duels quite as readily, the Warriors weren't kicking as many goals and the overall scoring rate slowed down a fair amount, but by the end of the second quarter, the Warriors were in the lead, seven goals twelve (54 points) to seven goals six (48 points) to the Demons.
Half time and everyone was hungry and thirsty again. Keighleigh and I volunteered to do the snack and drink run, scribbled down the orders in the notebook and headed up to the refreshments van. This time we were accompanied by Fred, who had his own "special" order that he had to place personally. We were going to join the queue, but Fred told us to follow him around to the back of the caravan. Shrugging, we did so; ordering for ten people entitled us to some kind of special treatment, after all. When we got there, Fred scrambled up the steps and knocked on the door. The door was answered by the woman who had served us earlier.
"Hullo Joy," Fred greeted her.
"Ah, Fred!," she cried, reaching down to give him a hug. "I was wondering when you'd turn up!"
"Well, I'm here now and after my usual," he told her, with a big smile. "Oh, and I'd like to introduce you to someone." He turned to me, gesturing for me to come forward. From the top step, he was just the right height to be able to put his arm around my shoulders. "This is Sarah, Arthur's niece. She's sharing the house with us this year while she studies at the university."
Joy looked at me and apparently recognised me. "Oh yes, the lass with the large drinks order. I should've guessed!" She extended a hand, which I took and shook. "Pleased to meet you. Are you going to be coming to the matches regularly?"
"I think so," I told her. "Not only are both Arthur and Boris my uncles, but my brothers are both on the Northcote sides. I think you'll be seeing a lot of me this year."
"And who's the other lass there?" Joy asked
I beckoned Keighleigh forward. "This is Keighleigh, she's a friend of mine from Uni. Neither of us are all that interested in football, so we volunteered to do the food and drinks runs."
Keighleigh shook hands with Joy and exchanged all the normal pleasantries.
"Well," Joy stated at the end of the introductions, "if you're both going to be regulars, with large orders, I'd say you'd be better off coming up to the back here, rather than waiting in the queue. I've no problems with it, but do try not to coincide with the rush times, like half time."
I was very pleased with this (waiting in queues has never been my favourite form of entertainment) and thanked Joy for the privilege she'd granted us. "Ah, that's no trouble, love," she said, waving the thanks off. "It's easier all round to give out large orders through the back door. Now, what can we do for you at this point?"
I pulled out the notebook from my bag, which got a grin from Joy.
"Ah, an organised lass! I'll have to see whether I can get you working here!" I grinned back and ripped off the sheet with the orders on it.
"Will this be easier for you?" I asked. A nod from Joy, who accepted the sheet and scanned it briefly.
"Hmm... some of these might take a bit of cooking. It'll be about five minutes. D'you mind waiting?"
Keighleigh and I both shook our heads. I actually appreciated the relative quiet behind the van, as I find myself rather sensitive to too much noise. Besides, this got me away from the rampant hormones of Sheryl, Vicki and Dale; as far as I was concerned, this was a Good Thing. Particularly in the cases of Sheryl and Vicki, both of whom were making me rather irritated with their very obvious drooling over my two uncles. Mainly, I have to admit, because I wanted to join them and couldn't. Or at least, not publicly.
I suppose this must have been showing on my face (I've never been particularly good at hiding my emotions) or maybe Keighleigh was just thinking along the same lines, for she asked me out of the blue, "Sarah, what's the actual relationship between yourself and your uncles? I mean, are they on your father's side, your mother's side, what's the story there?"
"I'm not actually sure, to be honest," I replied. "I mean, I'm reasonably sure that they're related to me through mother's side of the family, because she's the one who brought us to visit when we were younger. But I don't know for certain what the relationship is. I suppose it's one of those sort of fifth-cousin-twice-removed-by-marriage things. I've just always been told to call them 'uncle' because they're older than I am."
"Hmm. I thought as much," was the rather surprising reply. "You don't look all that much like them, to be honest. You've got a few similarities around the eyes and the cheekbones, but aside from that, there's not much family resemblance to be seen. I had to look really hard just to see that, too."
"That's true," said Fred, from where he was sitting at the top of the caravan steps. I'd forgotten he'd come around here with us; he's very good at fading into the background when he wants to. Must be a side-effect of being a librarian. "Actually, the main way that Sarah resembles either of them is in her behaviour."
"You what?" I queried. Not very coherently, I must admit.
"Your behaviour," Fred reiterated. "From the very start, you've treated myself, Mark, Pip and Sam like adults, rather than like children, which has been rather refreshing. Plus you've got a few characteristics in common with both of them. You're very responsible, very dutiful and very much focussed on getting the job done. You look after people and you try to take care of everything."
I blushed. "Oh, come *on*, that makes me sound like an angel," I said. "I'm not that bloody good."
"Well, no," Keighleigh agreed. "You're also pig-headedly stubborn, bad tempered and you swear like a trooper whenever anything goes wrong. But at the time when you're swearing, you're also figuring out how to fix whatever it is. I saw that the other day, when Duck's car broke down in the rain."
Fred laughed. "Now, that definitely sounds like both Arthur and Boris. Particularly Boris."
I blushed even more. Luckily, at that point I was saved any further blushes, by Joy opening up the door of the caravan and bringing out two trays with our orders on them. Food, drinks and one "meat pie floater".
"Oh good, you remembered!" said Fred, smiling up at Joy as he paid for the combined orders.
Keighleigh, meanwhile, was looking at the "floater" with something very much akin to barely-concealed horror. Oh yes, I'd forgotten. She hadn't seen one before. Lucky girl. I looked over at Fred.
"Okay, when did you get a taste for those?" I asked
"Oh, some years ago, when I was living in Melbourne," he replied. "They're actually quite nice, but Joy's the only person around here who'll make them for me."
"I'm not surprised," I commented dryly. "Most right-thinking people on this side of the continent tend to see them as aberrations against the true nature of the meat pie. You get to carry that one yourself, Fred."
He grinned at me and took the "floater" off the tray. We headed back to the rest of the group. Duck was leaning up against the fence near the rest of them, laughing with Sheryl about something. Vicki and Dale were talking with Mark and Pip, although from the looks on the faces of that little foursome, none of them were really enjoying it all that much. Gus was buried deep in his newspaper, but looked up at the smell of the food. I walked over to where he was sitting and handed him his meal and his second cup of tea.
"Thank you very much, Sarah dear. You're a good girl to do all of this for us all," he commented, as he took the lid off the cup. I grinned.
"Naah, it's just that I'm not that fond of football," I explained. "Doing the food and drink runs gives me something to do."
I got a smile from the old man, one that had a twinkle lying deep within it and seemed to imply that he knew my true reasons better than I did myself. Well, then again, maybe he did. It's not as though I'm the world's best liar, after all. I wandered over to where Mark and Pip were standing and offered them their food and drinks. Vicki and Dale had moved off to get their stuff from Keighleigh, who'd made a beeline to where Sheryl was standing.
"Thanks, Sarah," they both said, tucking into the pie, chips and gravy that they'd each ordered. I looked around for Sam, because I had a burger on my tray which looked like being his, as well as Keighleigh's hot dog. Obviously we'd got the wrong trays when Joy handed them over. Sam materialised at my elbow, or at least that's what it seemed like (although I'm sure that he'd actually been off at the Gents, dealling with the queue there). I handed him his food and drink, received a "thank you" from him and looked around to find Keighleigh.
I soon found her standing just behind Sheryl, who was still monopolising Duck. If looks had any power at all, Sheryl would have been stretched dead upon the ground, with several large knives in her back. As it was, I had to try my hardest not to burst out laughing at the sight. I would have thought by now that Keighleigh was aware of Sheryl's bad habit of flirting with just about anything male in range. Apparently not.
"Keighleigh, I think I've got your hot dog here," I called, from about five steps away. "D'you have my ham, cheese & tomato sandwich?"
That distracted all three of them long enough that I was able to cover the remaining distance and greet Duck. Keighleigh had enough time to regain her composure and smile as she swapped the hot dog for the sandwich. I grabbed her tray from her to take back with me. I asked Sheryl to accompany me, on the excuse that I needed to go to the loo and for that, I needed someone to hold the toilet door (I didn't know about the last, but going on the standard lock on most public conveniences, I was pretty sure it would be accurate). Sheryl agreed willingly; apparently she had to go as well. We went past the refreshments van, where I dropped off the trays at the front. Then we made our way to the loos. The length of the queue was enough that I'd had time to scoff my sandwich by the time that I got near the toilet block.
"Okay, Sarah, what are you up to?" Sheryl asked, just as soon as I'd got safely into a cubicle.
"Saving your life," I told her. "If you'd spoken to Duck for just three minutes more, I think Keighleigh would have tried to kill you."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean that Keighleigh likes Duck. Really likes Duck."
"Oh. Oh! Oh, I see."
"Yup, but no teasing her about it. Otherwise, I tell my uncle precisely how you feel about him. Got that?"
"Sarah, you are *evil*! Okay, I won't tease her. And I'll stop flirting with Duck so much. I don't want him in that way at all, you know."
"Yeah, I know. I know, you know, Duck knows, but Keighleigh can't quite believe it, especially when you keep flirting with him."
"Point taken, already! Now hurry up in there. I need to go too!"
When we came out, the third quarter was under way. Sheryl headed straight for the fences at high speed, to try and see whether Arthur was on interchange this quarter (he wasn't; I'd looked on the field for his number. He was chasing after the ball, which was in posession of the Warriors ruckman). I made my way back in a more leisurely fashion, winding up next to Sam.
"How're you liking the game, Sarah?" he asked me.
"It's pretty good. Looks like it's going to be close if things continue this way."
"The derbies usually are. Arthur and Boris always enjoy them."
"I'm not surprised. They're probably the best players on the field. I'm surprised they're not playing in the WAFL, or even in the Eagles squad. Is the local recruiter blind or something?"
Sam laughed. "No, he's not blind. That's him over there." He pointed out a tall, solid man, who was watching the game with binoculars and a sour expression. "He asks them about three or four times a season each, but they both say that they like it too much here."
"Even Boris? I thought he was with the army?"
"He is. He keeps coming back here on leave, though. The Warriors are looking forward to this season, because he's going to be here for all of it. Generally, they only get him for the few matches of his furloughs. From what George was saying earlier this week, I think they're hoping to get the championship cup for the first time in years."
"Hmm. Yeah, I know that Northcote has hopes for the cup in the Colts division. Keith was fairly enthusiastic about it. I think I'm going to be spending a lot of Saturdays here, to be honest."
"Fred was saying that Joy seemed fairly enthusiastic about having you on the refreshment stand crew."
"I thought she was joking. That's what it seemed like, anyway."
"No, if Joy's mentioned it, she's serious. You might want to think about it; after all, it'd give you something better to do than just doing food and drink runs for us."
I thought about this for a bit. A question came to mind. "Sam, who did the food and drink runs before I came along?"
"I did." He grinned at me. I laughed back.
"And you'd like your distraction back, I take it?"
"Well, if you don't mind, Miss Sarah." Would you believe, he actually seemed shy about it. I gave him a big smile, then stood up.
"I think it's about time for another drinks run, don't you? I've got the order from last time; shall we check whether everyone wants the same thing again?"
He grinned back at me.
We walked up to the refreshment stand slowly, after checking that everyone wanted another drink. Same as last time, so I didn't have to throw out my notepad page. Joy greeted us both at the back door.
"Hello Sam, nice to see you again. How's the garden doing?"
"Oh, it's doing fine, Joy. Getting some very nice cabbages this year. Lemons might be a bit of a problem, though. Too much salt spray from the wind this year, one of them's got rather badly burned."
"Hullo Joy," I said. She smiled at me. "I've got another drink order here and the money ready as well."
"Oh good. Let's have a look then; ah, same as last time. Won't be a tick, lovey."
Joy was as good as her word and quickly assembled the drinks on a tray.
"There you go."
"Thanks," I said. "Just out of interest, were you serious about what you said earlier? About wanting me to work here?"
"Oh yes. I could do with another set of hands and I could definitely do with another organised person; it'd give me a chance to have a cuppa of my own at times."
"Well, I'm going to have to be out here just about every weekend, it's looking like: on top of George, Arthur, Boris and Larry, I've got two brothers in the Northcote teams and my mother would have fits if I weren't here to watch the games. You've got a good view of the scoreboard there, so I should be fine."
Joy laughed, a big laugh full of happiness. "I'll let you in on a secret, lovey: my husband's the one who runs the scoreboard, so I have to be here every week, from go to whoa!"
"You don't like football either?"
"This type? Can't stand it. Not like the proper stuff."
"The proper stuff, as far as Joy is concerned, is Rugby," Sam dropped in. "Shall we take the drinks back before they get cold?"
"Oh, yeah. See you next week, Joy?"
"Yup. Be here around 9am and I'll show you how we open up, okay?"
I nodded my agreement and took the tray back with Sam leading the way. Then we both distributed the drinks and Sam took the tray back.
Without the distraction of another food or drinks run, I wound up watching the rest of the match with the gang. The game turned out really tight, with the Demons winning by 1 point over the Warriors. The final scoreline wound up being eleven goals, ten behinds (76 points total) to the Demons, ten goals, fifteen points (75 points total) to the Warriors. Sheryl was overjoyed, especially given that Arthur had scored what she termed to be the winning behind (it had happened about ten minutes into the third quarter and had evened up the scores at that time). Vicki was only marginally less happy and Dale was overjoyed about the quality of the umpiring (or so she said, anyway. I wasn't going to argue, it wasn't worth it). We all waited by the changeroom doors at the back of the stands and greeted Arthur, Larry and Boris when they all came out. As I'd promised earlier, I introduced each of my friends to the three of them. They got a polite "hello" from Larry, a friendly one from Arthur and a cheerful one from Boris. They also got invited over for dinner by Gus (it was Sam's turn to cook and he's a very good cook when it comes to stretching a meal a little further) as did Duck. Everyone accepted and we set off home.
***
"Now why did Gus do that?"
"It's a habit of his."
"What do you mean?"
"Think about it."
"Oh. Oh yes."
***