Life in all its Quirkiness - Short Stories

By Christine Hand

This eclectic mix of short stories for adults brings out the author's penchant for the whimsy. From fantasy to creative non-fiction, you will travel the world with the characters.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Amaryllis Publications
• Release date: Nov 13, 2022
• ISBN: 9798201484873

Christine Hand

Christine Hand is a Brisbane-based academic who has travelled and worked in many parts of the world. She enjoys writing short stories, pottering in the garden and spending time with her cats.

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What Others Say About Life in All its Quirkiness

‘Loved it!

Dive into this thought provoking collection of short stories that'll leave you thinking well after the final page.

‘Life in all its Quirkiness by Christine Hand is a lovely collection of short stories and essay pieces set in various locations around the world. Each is lovingly crafted to leave the reader with a few more questions than answers at the end of each one.

As with most short story collections, this can be read cover to cover or can be dipped into like a tasty bag of assorted boiled sweets (candies, for those of you across the pond).

Most of these don’t follow the traditional format of what I’d recognise as a short story. You know, one with a beginning, a middle and a bit of a twist in the tail. Some do, but most are more like a snapshot in the middle of a longer tale.

Don’t get me wrong, this format works nicely and gives the reader pause for thought about what possibly went before and where the characters in each one will ultimately end up.

With nineteen finely constructed stories there will be something for everyone among them. Not all of them will strike a chord with everybody but you’re sure to find more than a few that hit the mark.

Packed with interesting characters from France, Australia, Fiji and other exotic locations, the stories are full of rich location details that give a glimpse into places some of us will never visit.

Stories range from fairly down to earth romance, via importing holy water from France, to vegetation that takes its own stance on reducing global warming.

A staged battle for Ithaca Creek between school children gives one girl the boost to her self-esteem that she needs to make friends.

Can a clone be so perfect it fools its creator?  Should a farmer flee the north in the midst of the Vietnam war? Can a Fijian villager fall in love with an Australian aid worker? All of these questions and many more are answered between the covers of this intriguing collection.’ 

Kevin Cannon, Reviewer for Reedsy

'C hristine creates characters that spring off the page, form solidly in your mind's eye and capture you until the end. They draw you into their vividly formed world and then whisk you away on their adventures - always surprising, always intriguing and certainly full of life.'

'Mrs Tina Strachan, Ecologist

PART I

ON RELIGION

CATHOLIC BAGGAGE

Their paths crossed on most days; she would be returning home after her shift at the hospital and he would be heading off to the pub for a drink before supper with his family. She was young and single..., well, divorced, after a short marriage that had lasted less than two years. And with no children in tow, it was as good as being single. He was older than her father, as she would later find out, and a much-loved grandfather, as well. He came from an unpretentious working-class English background, and she, from a working-class Sri Lankan background. For her, life was a theatre, a pretence of being upper middle-class or better. This was a trait that she had acquired from her mother, who yearned for far greater things than her husband could ever deliver. Mrs de Kretser’s eternal demands and lectures to her husband and children had made their mark on their brood in subtle ways. Tanya, now living in Kingston-upon-Thames, was endowed with the same feelings of greatness that defined her mother. Like her mother, she was materialistic, and insisted on having anything and everything that classified itself as a luxury item. Appearances had to be maintained. Tanya spent a small fortune on elocution lessons, makeup, and cosmetic surgery.

Initially, it was a simple greeting between the two, the hello, the Good Evening; it soon progressed to a cursory question or comment on the weather or how the day had been. John was six feet two, a strapping, well-built bloke, tidily dressed in good quality clothing, comprising tie, waistcoat, and jacket, and a felt hat that kept his greying hair in place. He was very much tradition-bound. Tanya was dark-skinned, petite and attractive; her long silky-black hair was done up in a bun and tucked inside her nurse’s cap when she was on duty. She wore the traditional nurse’s uniform of the seventies, with the cape tied around her neck and draping over her shoulders. It was a good shield against the wind and cold, she maintained. John had met no one from Sri Lanka before. He was interested in finding out about life in a former British colony. After some initial dithering, she agreed to meet him at the pub for a drink, and that’s how it all started. They both enjoyed the drink and each other’s company. Before long, they were meeting routinely, two to three times a week in the pub.

One day, Tanya invited John to a meal in her flat. They were getting on like a house on fire and emotions were rising high. Tanya was eager to please John. He seemed such a decent sort, so unlike her ex; besides, she was getting very fond of him. He reciprocated and was getting equally fond of her. John arrived with a bunch of red roses; it was a flattering gesture and soon they were in an embrace before the candlelit dinner could commence. Dinner every Thursday with Tanya became a ritual, and Tanya loved having this older man in her life. Perhaps her ex had been too young to make her feel secure.

Three months flew by. The candlelit dinner was well under way that Thursday when the doorbell rang. Tanya was surprised. She never had friends drop in during the week. She excused herself from John and went to open the door. A woman in her mid-thirties stood facing her. There was a threatening look on her face as she brushed past Tanya and walked straight through the hall into the flat. All hell broke loose as she vented her tirade of anger on John. This was John’s eldest daughter. His children had stalked him to see where he disappeared to each Thursday evening. They had watched for several weeks, seen the silhouette of John and Tanya eating through the window. The family had vowed solidarity with their mother and gave their father no room for explanations.

There was little point in trying to make excuses, thought John. His wife filed for divorce proceedings and kicked him out of the family home. With nowhere to go, he made his way back to Tanya’s flat to discuss their future together. It was marriage by default and then Tanya was in the sticky predicament of telling her family that she had married a man who was older than her father. The telephone call to her parents to convey the message of her sudden marriage was embarrassing for both parties.

‘What do you mean, you’ve got married again? You’ve only just got divorced, you’ve broken the holy sacred sacrament of marriage, gone against your church, and now you say that you’ve got married again? What sort of Catholic are you? This is not how I brought you up, child.’

‘I know, Mum but I’m on my own here and I had no choice. I had to make a hard decision on my own. Papa’s such a kind man, you’ll really like him when you meet him...’

‘Did you just call him Papa? How old is this man and how have you got married without the consent of the church? Was it in some protestant joint?’

‘He’s only just turned sixty...’

Mrs de Kretser turned white. Why, this man was over thirty years older than her daughter! With a hand held tight to her bosom, she gasped and fell backward in a faint. Felix de Kretser quickly put his arm around Joyce, his wife, to pillow her head; he grasped the dangling telephone with the other.

‘Tanya, your mother has just fainted. I believe you have upset her far too much this time. Let me repeat your mother’s question to you. How old is this man you’ve married?’

‘Dad, I’m sorry I’m upsetting you and mum. Papa is sixty. I know he sounds like he’s too old for me, but life is very different over here and age does not have the same drawbacks as it does in Sri Lanka...’

‘So, I’m Dad and he’s Papa? Is that what I’m hearing? I need to attend to your mother. Let’s talk another time. I just hope to God that you haven’t made another big mistake in your life, Tanya.’

Tanya was far too upset to talk it through with John that evening, and he knew it was best to leave her alone for the moment. ‘Let’s go to the pub and have a drink, perhaps even a bite, to eat there. I don’t think you feel like cooking tonight.’

She was relieved. John was always so considerate. Soon her parents will come to understand that. They’d see how different he was from her ex. Decisions had to be made and she had made hers. They would come around eventually.

Two months later, Tanya and John were off to Sri Lanka. She would show them she’d not made a mistake this time. The first few days were awkward, but soon both Joyce and Felix, and Tanya’s siblings came to terms with Tanya having married someone older than their father. In private, of course, they made fun of Tanya’s Papa. And Joyce simply could not stop rebuking Tanya for having gone against the edicts of the Catholic church; this she did whenever John was not around. She was a devoted Catholic and expected all her offspring to be likewise.

Tanya knew her mother only too well and was prepared to appease her in whatever way possible. She had chosen the right draw card. Joyce was consoled with an invitation to her and Felix to visit the newlywed couple in England with the promise of that long-awaited pilgrimage to Lourdes; Joyce had waited a lifetime for this opportunity. It transposed her into the realm of miracles and all things divine and spiritual. The pilgrimage to Lourdes was one that was eternally talked about among the Catholic circle of acquaintances she had. She could already see herself describing every single detail of that pilgrimage to her friends on her return. How they would envy her? She replayed this scene time and time again. Each replay resulted in even greater surprise and wonderment expressed by her audience of friends. She still had to decide on whether she would include witnessing a lame man being cured, able to walk, or should it be a blind woman being able to see once again? Thankfully, there was plenty of time to refine those details. Joyce was already feeling superior as she prematurely placed herself on that pedestal that belonged only to those who had been there.

They gave Joyce and Felix a warm welcome upon their arrival in England. Tanya and John picked them up at Heathrow and drove them to their new flat, which had a spare room for the couple.

‘Good heavens, Tanya. Why have they got so many bags? Are they planning on staying here for six months?’ Whispered John to Tanya. It was a colossal amount of baggage, and John worried they might not get it all in the car.

‘Shush. Mum might hear you. It’s just the way Mum is. She just doesn’t understand the word moderation.’

‘So, she’s much the same as you?’ said John, only to receive a quick punch and rebuke from Tanya.

How fortunate that the car had a luggage rack on the top. Joyce was over the moon about Tanya’s new flat, so much nicer than the previous one. At least her daughter had good taste in furniture and had learnt to keep things tidy and spotless.

‘Give me a hand here, child. These are just a few things we got for your new life with John.’ Joyce always referred to her children as child. It served its purpose as long as none of the others were around. Six names were a bit much to get right all the time.

Practically, the entire contents of one suitcase contained presents for the newlyweds. It overwhelmed Tanya. The flat was hardly spacious. Where on earth was she going to store all these appliances and linens until she could get rid of them? A lot of the stuff had to simply go under the bed. They’d have to remain there until her parents had left. She would give what she could to friends, and what remained would go to the church jumble sale. John decided it was best to turn a blind eye and made himself busy brewing a pot of tea in the kitchen.

Between the two of them, they had taken enough time off so that one of them would always be at home over the six-week visit. Tanya had drawn up a list of places of interest. They were going to be busy days. Joyce talked non-stop. She had to update Tanya on what had happened back home since the last phone call of just four days ago. Incredibly, she had no trouble whatsoever in finding an unending series of events that could easily put to shame, the longest epic saga ever written. John was struggling to maintain his sanity. Felix had learnt over the years that claiming deafness had its usefulness. Even Tanya was feeling the strain of her mother’s eternal need to be heard.

As the day for that much discussed trip to Lourdes approached, Joyce’s excitement could not be contained. Bags were packed and unpacked so many times that Joyce lost herself in her multiple plans and the many bags allocated for this trip. The four travellers flew to Paris and took a connecting flight to the local airport in the Pyrenees. A short taxi trip got them to their hotel and finally they could set foot on that sanctified ground. John’s only interest was that of a true protestant tourist; miracles would not form part of his itinerary. Nevertheless, he was going to make the most of the sight-seeing and cuisine. He smiled ruefully to himself as he watched Joyce fall on a patch of ground and kiss it as many other Catholics appeared to be doing. And to his utmost disdain and surprise, Tanya followed suit. John was no fan of Catholics or their pagan behaviours, but now that he was married to Tanya, he had no option but to suffer in silence and accompany her to mass each Sunday.

It was midsummer, and the weather was incredibly warm, almost too warm for John. The de Kretsers were delighted with the bright sunshine, so similar to their homeland. It was a pleasant occasion to have lunch outdoors. Tourists flooded the streets and trade was brisk for all the little shops along the avenues and lanes. They sold all manner of things, from candles to souvenirs, empty jars of all sizes, prayer books, pamphlets, holy water, statuettes and endless paraphernalia that enthralled Joyce completely. Felix was concerned and had to enlist help from Tanya and John to get her away from reducing him to bankruptcy. They deftly guided her in the direction of the cathedral, Notre-Dame de Lourdes; not that these venues were free to enter either. It was the Grotto of Massabielle that soon became the draw card for Joyce and Tanya. Supposedly being the spot where a peasant girl had seen a vision of the Virgin Mary, the grotto drew massive crowds of pilgrims, many coming day-in, day-out to bathe and purify themselves in the waters that were deemed holy and curative.

Joyce and Tanya made countless visits to the grotto, prompting John to investigate their reasons for the frequency. The two would set off each morning, leaving the two men to amuse themselves. They would head first to one of the shops that sold plastic bottles. Joyce would buy several large plastic containers. The two women would then make their way to the grotto, where they filled the bottles with the hallowed water. They then lugged the filled containers back to the hotel room. John had no choice but to question the motive behind this and what they expected to do with so many gallons of holy water. He was beside himself when Tanya informed him that this was all going back with them to London and then onwards to