Seasons Before the Wind: Owe it to the Wind

By Colin Belk

Tauranga, NZ - it is the 1990's - just before the turn of the century - Financier Neil Hunter is warned of a global slow down by a trusted friend. He does not believe it but a feeling deep down inside changes his point of view.

On the other

• Language: English
• Publisher: URLink Print & Media, LLC
• Release date: Jun 1, 2023
• ISBN: 9781684864492

Colin Belk

Colin Belk has written two books - 'Strip the Willow' and 'Heads I win Tails you Lose' this is his third book. Colin lives in Katikati New Zealand, the Southern gateway to the Coromandel and Northern gateway to the Bay of Plenty. Colin works for Mainfreight, a world leader in Transport. He has a passion for art and writing.

Book preview

Seasons

Before

the Wind

Owe it to the Wind

COLIN BELK

Seasons Before the Wind

Copyright © 2023 by Colin Belk. All rights reserved.

No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any way by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording or otherwise without the prior permission of the author except as provided by USA copyright law.

The opinions expressed by the author are not necessarily those of URLink Print and Media.

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Published in the United States of America

Library of Congress Control Number: 2023910837

ISBN 978-1-68486-444-7 (Paperback)

ISBN 978-1-68486-449-2 (Digital)

05.06.23

Contents

One

Two

Three

Four

Five

Six

Seven

Eight

Nine

Ten

Eleven

Twelve

Thirteen

Fourteen

Fifteen

Sixteen

Seventeen

Eighteen

Nineteen

Twenty

Twenty One

Twenty Two

Twenty Three

Twenty Four

Twenty Five

Twenty Six

Twenty Seven

Twenty Eight

Twenty Nine

Thirty

Thirty-One

Thirty-Two

Thirty-Three

Thirty-Four

Thirty-Five

Thirty-Six

Thirty-Seven

Thirty-Eight

Thirty-Nine

Forty

Forty-One

Forty-Two

Forty-Three

Forty-Four

Forty-Five

Forty-Six

Forty-Seven

Forty-Eight

Forty-Nine

Fifty

Fifty One

Fifty Two

Fifty Three

Fifty Four

Fifty Five

Fifty Six

Fifty Seven

Fifty Eight

Fifty Nine

Sixty

Sixty One

Sixty Two

Sixty Three

Sixty Four

Sixty Five

Sixty Six

Sixty Seven

Sixty Eight

Sixty Nine

Seasons before the wind

Four Women

1 holds a fortune

1 wants to make a fortune

1 holds a dream

1 is out for revenge

And

Four Men all out for revenge

And

One Man they are all after

Seasons before the wind

Chapter

ONE

Cecile Michelle de Muir stood statue like looking at her boyfriend.

He was about to leave her standing high and dry.

A coiled shock of disbelief belted her briefly locking her shoulders and knees, sending pins and needles at once to numb her fingers.

For a moment, she held her breath as the thought entered her head he doesn’t love me anymore.

She had lost her virginity to him on their first date. On that hot, humid night, she was wet, willing, and just as eager for him to do it to her. She wore a singlet top and a short mini skirt when they went out. His hand found the bottom of her skirt and the inside of her legs, the edge of her panties and the wet moist pussy they contained. He deprived her of her only protection from his advances, her cotton panties and she found herself impaled on the size of him. Pain edged with surprise, willing him to do it to her. Easy at first then slightly harder meeting every thrust with the downward buck of her own hips. The pleasure, intense, far greater than the pain, the feeling of his hands on her now naked breasts. The size of his cock, wonderful, oh so tight, bouncing hard off it as she landed on each thrust again and again. He suddenly came sending her to heaven on earth. She gripped him with a spanner tight grip that held them locked together for an age then it was over. She got off him short of breath, her hair stuck to her sweaty face, dripping sticky liquid, she quickly realised what had just happened. Nine months proved her suspicions correct when Emma entered their bewildering world of love and lust and steamy car windows. That had been almost three years ago. Now he was leaving her for this latest bit of skirt standing beside him in their lounge room.

I am nearly twenty-one, Cecile thought, and already past my use by date.

To think she had backed a loser was too unbearable to think about right now. Instead, she stood there numb and sick to the stomach watching him carry each piece out to the Ford and dump it into the boot while still locked in a state of shock not able to remove her eyes from him or to speak.

Minutes ago, things were perfect. Then he showed up with her and now he was leaving. The other girl stood by the open front door watching Cecile and her three-year-old daughter Emma, who stood clinging to Cecile’s legs in the middle of the lounge.

‘We’re buying a car,’ the girl finally said, breaking the spell that had locked Cecile’s eyes to Jimmy.

Cecile stared at the girl nearly her own age, a stunning honey blond with a long mane of golden hair and more than an adequate bust. She wore a revealing top and rather short mini skirt – maybe seventeen, no older. Cecile thought how can I compete with her. A bitter taste of lemons, not yet ripe washed through her mouth making her fight back the dry sensation it brought on.

‘How much is that costing you?’ Cecile replied, feeling like the other girl held a noose around her neck and was pulling it tight for her own amusement. Her words sounding croaky in her own ears. When the girl gave a false grin and looked away without answering, Cecile continued.

‘He hasn’t got any money so you must be buying it?’

She didn’t reply so Cecile pushed her.

‘He has no backbone.’

‘He loves me,’ she finally answered.

‘He loves himself – you’re just an accessory. He’ll be thinking of food and rugby while you’re still gooey inside.’

‘Well, we’re buying a car.’

‘Lucky you – he hasn’t got any money, how much are you paying for it?’

Silence.

‘Look, don’t waste your life with him. You will find out too late that he is a loser. He’ll be fat and forty and he will have muddied his feet all over your life.’

Jimmy returned for another load.

‘Yeah, we’re getting a Ford Falcon – a neat one, and her brother’s say I’m pretty good – they’re giving me a job doing car stuff with them cool guys.’

Cecile’s eyes shot to Jimmy’s for only a moment before returning to the other girls eyes, looking for that tell-tale change. It came quickly in the form of a narrow shadow followed by a nasty frown that cleared quicker than expected and she wondered, what lies has he told this girl?

‘What about us Jimmy?’ Cecile felt the fear in her voice turn to anger.

How could he just say goodbye to three years just like that?

Jimmy strode towards her in a threatening manner, placing his face in front of hers

‘There is no us! – not anymore.’

Cecile waved him past least he forget what he is about, ‘so who is she Jimmy? Is she the one you’ve been screwing around behind my back?’

Jimmy stopped and looked at her angrily.

‘What about your degree? You haven’t looked at a book or attended a lecture in weeks, do you intend finishing that?’

Jimmy walked away while her words boiled up inside him.

She could not admit yet that she might have to consider a future without him.

He stopped and turned around to look at Cecile again.

‘Bugger the bloody degree! – there is no money to be made mucking around with that shit.’ He reached over to the books stacked in the corner of the lounge and pushed them over. Cecile retreated towards the other girl and the front door. The other girl retreated out the front door onto the lawn but remained where she could observe. Jimmy kicked at the stack of engineering textbooks – stopped and picked one up. He strode back across the lounge towards Cecile waving the textbook in her face.

I hope he doesn’t intend hitting me with that. Cecile thought.

He did not stop until he had her pinned up against the wall. He extended his arm and placed a hand on the wall to one side of her head, blocking her with his body and face. Cecile stood, pinned there, unable to move away from him.

‘And you! – you can forget about becoming a doctor too.’ Jimmy threw the textbook away. His face still remained close to hers. His huge eyes disturbed her. What is he taking?

‘Jimmy – you have changed so much, why are you like this?’

‘I have not changed at all, I just woke up and smelt the real world – and this is not it.’

‘Yes, you have changed – you got hit on the head at work in August, remember? That knocked you out and that concussion playing rugby last…’

‘Bull! – Jimmy cut her short. ‘You and me is over Cecile that is all – over.’

‘What about Emma? Don’t you care about your own daughter?’

‘Nope – I don’t think she’s mine… I hear rumours that you was screwing other boys. Besides, she doesn’t even look like me.’

Cecile’s angry eyes turned ice cold as they meet Jimmy’s. Anger burned in her heart.

‘You really are a bastard now aren’t you Jimmy?’

‘Maybe, but I know one thing Cecile. You will never become a doctor now that I am not here to support you while you bugger around with it for the next six years. Here, I will give you a kiss goodbye.’

Cecile turned her face away and his lips landed on the base of her neck. He pulled back confused by her actions.

Anger tore a jagged edge to Cecile’s words, ‘I will become a doctor Jimmy, with or without you!’

‘No you won’t – you’re flipping hopeless… you’re just a bloody dreamer.’

‘What do you want me to say then Jimmy… that you are a winner? This isn’t a game.’ Cecile lowered her voice further.

‘Yes Jimmy – I will become a doctor… that’s my dream to keep, not yours to take away.’

Undecided, Jimmy looked confused.

‘This isn’t Rugby Jimmy… Emma and I are your family. You can’t just give up and walk off like that… Just leave us standing high and dry while you walk away with blondie here… no regrets?’

He stared at her for a long time. For a tiny moment, he saw her as he had when he first met her, that beautiful rebellious girl with her face tilted in desire, lips parted, and the anger smouldering away in her eyes. Don’t leave her you bloody fool, his heart shouted out, let’s try that again. But the look past oh too quickly.

‘You don’t care.’ Cecile took the opportunity his indecision allowed her. She patted his chest with the palms of both hands. In effect pushing him away from her then spoke again in a soft even voice rubbed raw with boiling anger.

‘Well I guess you best be on your way with your new friends then Jimmy. Don’t let us hold you back you brave man.’

‘Fuck you.’

‘Never again Jimmy.’

‘Up yours bitch.’ Jimmy backed off her and went to get the last of his stuff from the bedroom.

‘I’ll be seeing you.’ Jimmy brushed past her and went out the front door, out to the lawn where his new girlfriend stood watching from a safe distance. The blond girl flashed Cecile a winner’s smile. Tears started to roll down Cecile’s cheeks as she watched Jimmy get in the front passenger seat of the saloon car and the blond open the back door and get into the Falcon. The driver backed away, drove down the Terrace towards Fraser Street, turned north and disappeared into the early morning traffic.

‘Goodbye Jimmy.’

Cecile sank to the floor beside the open front door sobbing blinding tears of anger, fear, hurt and despair. Feeling as if he had ripped out her heart and walked away while it lay there still beating on the floor beside her. When she finally calmed down enough for the tears to clear and she could see again, Emma sat on the floor in front of her quietly watching her mother, her own face stained with tears of confusion. Cecile sat for a while wondering if her baby understood what was going on. She wiped the last of the tears onto her sleeve. Her body still shook as the last sobs subsided away. Emma stood and walked over to her mother and hugged her head.

‘It’s alright mummy, we don’t have to go to play centre if you don’t want to.’

Cecile put her arm around her daughter’s waist and hugged her only lasting, really precious possession.

‘It’s alright Emma – we will be going to play centre.’ Cecile kissed Emma on the cheek trying just as much to reassure herself as her daughter… Feeling this totally rejected was not good. Suddenly everything was so uncertain.

‘Courage,’ Cecile told herself, not really believing she had any.

Chapter

TWO

Cecile walked slowly along Hampton Terrace and crossed over busy Fraser Street at the pedestrian crossing in front of the strip of grubby shops then turned south to Kesteven Avenue and entered the Merivale Community Centre Building on the corner of Kesteven Avenue and Fraser Street. Emma burst in ahead of her mother thrilled by the idea of a morning filled with fun activities. The breakfast ordeal forgotten now. Cecile followed her daughter in and searched the faces of the other mothers looking for an island of peace and calm in a sea of chaos. When her eyes landed on Sonja Barry sitting within a tight group of other mothers laughing and talking she breathed a sigh of relief, still it was a good thirty minutes before Sonja noticed her and came over.

‘Mind if I join you?’ Sonja asked as she sat down beside Cecile.

‘You look like you just shot the Pope, that is if you don’t mind me saying so? Sonja quickly added when she saw the hurt look in Cecile’s eyes. That look close to tears.

‘Hey… what’s up?’ Sonja reached round, brushed hair back out of Cecile’s eyes, and hugged her warmly. ‘Hey, it’s alright girl.’

At thirty Sonja had a mob of kids of her own – five at last count. The latest two were her three-year-old twins Jackson and his sister Prue making all the noise amongst the children on the playroom floor. She knew all about family trouble and this smelt like a bad dose of something unforgivable. Cecile looked at Sonja – that big-hearted Maori woman with more love that anyone she had ever known. Sonja, whose smiling eyes and laughter lined face, drew others to her huge reservoir of love like a magnet.

‘Jimmy left me this morning. He has been missing for a week and a half. Then he suddenly shows up this morning, walks through the front door at breakfast time like nothing has happened, along with his new girlfriend I might add and dumps the news on me, packs his things up and leaves.’

‘Oh shit you poor bitch, ‘Sonja laughed, ‘my language, sorry.’ She put her hand to her mouth looking this way then that hoping no one else heard.

‘Cheeky bugger –bringing his new fling to the set too – so what did you do?’

‘Me? I felt like I had just had a red-hot poke shoved up my arse. I stood there like a dumb puppet and watched him clean the place out of all he wanted while his dim friend told me they were buying a new Falcon.’

Sonja rolled her eyes. Prue came running over with Emma to show what they had just made out of play dough. Sonja had no idea what she was being shown but encouraged the girls to continue all the same. When they had left she turned to Cecile.

‘So Jimmy had been missing for a week and a half, what brought that on, did you see any of this coming?’

Cecile nodded.

‘Jimmy’s such a fun loving talkative kind of guy, always hugging me and talking about our future. What we would do, where we would go, what we would see. But he was hit on the head at work in August when he was doing some kind of on the job training. They were testing a new logging rig when a wire rope broke and a hook swung up and hit Jimmy on the head. The hook split open his helmet like an egg shell and knocked him unconscious.’

‘Go on,’ Sonja encouraged.

‘The hospital kept him over two nights for observation but released him saying he was alright to return to work. He came home without a word spoken and remained quiet all evening. When I asked him if he was all right, he just nodded or said yes. He returned to work against my advice and remained distant and mostly silent from that time on. Then when Greerton played Mount Maunganui the big game of the season, Jimmy just had to play. He played on the side of the scrum. In the second half, he was the ball carrier when he hit heads with another guy while running at full speed. Both of them landed in a heap on the ground and lay there out to it. When Jimmy got up, he wandered around like he was in La La land… After that, he became really moody and cantankerous. He kept staying out and not attending lectures. One night he came home really late. He had a long blond hair stuck to his polar fleece right here.’ Cecile touched her right shoulder. ‘His polar fleece was dark blue… so it stuck out. I knew it was not mine so I asked him whose it was. Well he just lost it, he got up and snatched the polar fleece from me and walked out the front door into the darkness. That was a week and a half ago. Well this morning, he arrives with her – blondie – this girl maybe seventeen, takes all his stuff, and tells me we are over and he had the Gaul to say that Emma is not his daughter. That I had been sleeping round so I must have got pregnant not to him… no not to him but to some other boy.’ Cecile wiped tears from her eyes looking forlorn at her friend and confidant.

‘You poor thing, no wonder you have been crying. He sounds pretty screwed up. I would say your Jimmy has go a dose of amnesia. What about you though, have you got anywhere you can go?’

‘No, Cecile shook her head.

‘What about your mum and dad, can they take you in?’

‘No… I could not stand my mother’s constant I told you so – besides she has enough with dad. He sort of drinks a bit.’

‘Is he an alcoholic?’

‘No… well yes… he can be at times… he is harmless though, just more of a schist-err than anything. That’s great, here I am condemning my own father and look at me – my life is all up the jack-see.’

‘Well girl, you have some issues that we need to work through. But I know about these things and I think we need to get you sorted with social welfare. They will try to boot you out of your place and send you back to your parents but if you do not want to go, we need a plan to get you some money so you don’t starve. Come round to my house after and let me call social welfare for you. They know not to mess with me. I can set up a meeting and go with you so they don’t try to pull a fast one on you they are real cunning like that. Is Jimmy named as Emma’s father?’

Cecile looked at Sonja – no he isn’t.’

"Okay, big problem, they’re going to want to know the father’s name so they can cane his sorry arse for the money.’

‘No can do, sorry, Jimmy believes that he is not Emma’s father so that is how he shell have it.’

Concern clouded Sonja’s bright face.

‘Okay Cecile – your decision but not one I would make.’

It had gone 3pm when Cecile walked along Fraser Street again and turned into Hampton Terrace towards home. The sun sat low on the horizon casting long shadows in front of her and Emma as they walked along, Sonja had given her plenty to think about. Cecile was deep in thought, not really taking that much notice of her surroundings. When they came near to their own gateway she looked up to check the traffic before crossing the Terrace. It was then that she saw the bright orange Falcon with shiny wheels parked in her driveway with a large furniture trailer attached. She stopped walking in panic. Jimmy came out the front door along with another person carrying a piece of furniture. Cecile stood there in shock – I know most of the furniture is his but this is going too far – he is leaving me with nothing – don’t I have any rights? Cecile started to move. The girl saw her coming; she got out of the car and yelled a warning. The boys quickly threw the last piece into the furniture trailer, shut the doors, climbed into the car and started the engine. Cecile ran across the Terrace in front of the car as it pulled out of the driveway. Emma followed her mother, she was in the middle of the road when the big car came out of the driveway and turned towards her. Cecile could not stop them. She turned to watch the car leave. It was at that moment she spotted Emma standing in the middle of the road in the path of the car. Cecile’s heart was in her mouth. ‘No Emma!’ Cecile ran back in front of the car. ‘Oh lord please no,’ she grabbed Emma and just made it past the driver’s side fender as the car flew off down the Terrace towards Fraser Street. The car had to stop at the intersection and wait for a gap in the traffic. Cecile saw her chance. She picked up a large stone and ran along the Terrace towards the car to give herself a better angle. She took careful aim and threw the rock at the back of the car with all the force she could muster and scored a direct hit. The stone bounced off the boot lid gouging the flash paint down to bare metal and smashed the back window.

‘Take that you bastard,’ Cecile said short of breathe but satisfied with her efforts. It’s payback time.

The Falcon suddenly backed up with trailer snaking away behind it. Jimmy got out of the driver’s seat.

‘Oh no!’ Cecile scooped up Emma who was crying and ran for it. She ran to her place, down the concrete path to the gate beside the house, fumbled with the catch, it was stuck. Normally she would be scared of spiders but this was different – no time for spiders, a bigger threat was gaining on her. She looked over her shoulder. Jimmy was at the edge of the property coming down the lawn at full speed.

‘Oh please! – Come on stupid gate – open for goodness sake.’ Cecile gave it an almighty shove and it finally relented, opening on tight rusty hinges. Cecile went through and banged it shut knowing that would make it even harder to open again and ran down the back lawn before looking back, Jimmy was at the gate. He could not open it – he jumped over. Cecile was frightened now; she climbed through a hole in the wire fence and followed a rough path down into the bush in the gully below. When she was around the first bend and out of his view, she stepped off the path and back tracked up to the neighbours place and climbed back through a hole in their fence to their back yard. She crouched down breathing hard hoping she had got away. But, her heart sank – to her amazement Jimmy stood in front of her. She stood up.

‘You leave me alone Jimmy.’

Jimmy seized Cecile with his fist full of knotted hair pulling her towards him – his anger at boiling point. ‘You wrecked my car Cecile.’ He pulled harder on her hair making Cecile stand on her toes. Cecile’s head turned by his fist at an angry angle – caught for the moment in pain.

‘Now you know how I feel Jimmy!’ She said defiantly.

He shook her by the hair.

‘You are gonna pay for that – give me your bag.’

‘No! – Jimmy… stop it, you are hurting me.’

Jimmy reached for her bag without releasing his painful hold on her hair.

‘Come on, give it to me.’

‘No! – Jimmy please.’

Mrs Watson saw what was going on from her kitchen window and went to the back door.

‘Hey! You stop that right now – don’t make me come down there or else.’

Jimmy just ignored her and fought Cecile for her bag while Emma stood crying beside her mother. Jimmy did not see Mrs. Watson coming but he felt it when she boxed his ear. Her big hand caught the side of his face with enough force to leave an angry red mark where it landed making him let Cecile go.

‘Take that - you mean little sod.’ Mrs. Watson said through gritted teeth to over six foot tall Jimmy. He turned away and staggered drunkenly back towards the hole in the fence. They both watched Jimmy go. Cecile wondered if the blow had further damaged his delicate mental state. Would she ever again see the Jimmy she once knew and loved? Who is he now? Cecile wondered for the hundredth time. I thought I knew but now I do not. Mrs. Watson turned her attention to Cecile.

‘Are you alright love?’

Cecile nodded while rubbing the pain from the back of her head.

‘Yes I am okay now… if you hadn’t come along who knows what he might have done?’ She felt like she was missing a tuft of hair, pulled from her head by the roots.

‘When you raise seven boys you get to know how to handle them alright,’ Mrs. Watson said proudly.

Cecile looked up at the big woman with concern, thinking that she would not want to get on the wrong side of her; she would just as likely knock you into the middle of next week with one blow. Cecile thanked her again before going home. Jimmy, the car and the trailer had gone, along with the contents of the house. What was left lay on the floor. There was not much of that, Jimmy had taken everything even the blankets off the bed and the food from the cupboards. Their mattress lay on the floor in the bedroom where it had been left. She had stopped them before they had a chance to take it too but the bed it used to lay on was gone. Grim faced she went to Emma’s room expecting that bed had been taken too but Emma’s bed had not been touched. However, all her books and toys had gone, in fact everything was gone except Emma’s bed. You bastards Cecile thought. She went back to her bedroom to see if her money tin was still in her top draw of her dresser but stopped short, the dresser was gone as well, along with everything in it, even her clothes, even her computer that sat on top of the dresser. The computer held all her files and research work. She checked the wardrobe. All the hanging clothes were gone, even her shoes. She looked up on the shelf in the wardrobe remembering the blankets that she had washed and stashed there. To her joy, the raiders had overlooked them, they were still there.

‘Thank goodness for small mercies.’ Cecile breathed a little easier. At least she would not completely freeze tonight. However, without food or any money, things were very grim indeed.

What to do? What should I do? – Carry on I suppose. Cecile began to cry but stifled the tears before they took real hold. They were not going to help and crying would just upset Emma even further.

‘Where are my toys mummy?’ Emma said behind her.

Cecile turned and crouched down to her daughter.

‘They are all gone love but don’t worry we will get you some more.’

That night, Cecile lay awake knowing that she would have to walk into town tomorrow to meet with Social Welfare. Sonja could not come with her so she was on her own. She lay awake spooked by every noise that came from outside. Around midnight a car stopped nearby somewhere up on the Terrace and sat there with its engine running in the darkness. She climbed out of bed, went to the window, and watched it. The car lights were on but there was no movement around it. After ten minutes, she saw two figures come running towards it out of the darkness, get in and drive off quickly. She decided someone had either been burgled or dealt to further along the Terrace. Shivering she climbed back into bed scared and cold.

Chapter

THREE

‘Hey, where is that hot guy?’

‘Which guy?’

Hail Strom just realised that she had said it aloud and tried to cover up her mistake.

‘The one, who was sitting over there with the long hair,’ Hail pointed with her racket.

‘Oh him – he’s gone – always leaves early,’ Clarry said moving over to sit beside her hoping to talk up his chances. He began to speak but she was lost in thought. Hail decided she would watch that new guy with the long hair next Thursday so he could not leave without her noticing. She took her racket and went down to the badminton courts leaving Clarry talking to himself. Her circle of friends included Clarry who was the club captain. It had been fun but now it had become too much of the same old boring stuff. Always the same players, always the same silly small talk. After a year and a half, it was time for a change. She scooped the shuttlecock off the floor with her new racket, flicked it into the air and with a flick of her wrist sent it over the net to start the warm up volley while all the eyes of those seated were on her young body, drinking in her fine figure in short mini and singlet top. Her wild waves of light brown hair, long slender arms and legs, the perfect girl next door. She had insisted on dressing that way in spite of what others thought, which was at first frowned upon by other women in the club but she was a woman and liked to dress like one. Not hide as others did behind all manner of men’s styles of clothing. When they found they could not stop her from dressing that way the other women in the club slowly started to dress the same way and the men were forced to dress in whites by their wives and girlfriends who couldn’t see change complete until the men were driven to it as well.

Now that a week had already gone by since her decision to check out that new guy. Hail wanted to watch him play so she could see if he was any good. But all his games were scheduled to play at the same time as her own. It had already gone past nine thirty pm and this was the first chance she had all evening to just sit and watch him playing down on the court in front of her. She confirmed her original belief. This guy was hot.

The shuttlecock flew past Antoine’s shoulder at light speed. He turned running hard, reaching it at the back of the court just as the shuttlecock had lost all its speed and had started to fall towards the floor. He belted it with all his might back in the direction it came from while still running away from the net. The return shot sent the shuttlecock back over his shoulder, back over the net at a good speed. The opposition was waiting and replied with a lazy shot that would just cleared the net. Beating the girl, his partner, it fell towards the floor.

‘Never give up,’ Antoine chanted to himself and ran for it, lunged forward, he smacked the shuttlecock back upwards in a scoop shot just before it hit the floor sending it back over the net in a lazy loop, setting it up for a perfect smash hit. Sweating hard, Antoine reached a stop at the net, brushed hair from his face, his eyes still on the flight of the shuttlecock. The opposition jumped and swung using the full extent of the right arm and shoulder to connect racket with shuttlecock sending it back again over the net with startling speed. It shot past Antoine with a whistling zing. The girl, his partner, swung at it behind him but her timing was out. Antoine turned and ran after it reaching the shuttlecock at the end of the court. Placed his boot firmly on the floor stopping forward motion, turned and swung wildly, smashing the shuttlecock back towards the net. The shuttlecock flew towards the net at low altitude, grazed the top line and just tumbled over. A lazy loop shot returned the shuttlecock to Antoine with rare advantage. Forgetting the girl his partner, he ran for it to smash it back with a well-directed shot. She got to it first and butchered the shot with a limp wristed swing that drove the shuttlecock into floor. Antoine groaned. It was game over.

‘Sorry.’ She said with conviction for her own lack of dexterity and skill while hugging her racket for protection, seeing the frustration in his eyes. Antoine just nodded at her and shook hands with the opposition team. Players for the next match invaded the court started practice shots driving them from the court. Antoine picked up his jacket, sleeved his racket and headed for the exit door. It was ten pm, time to start the walk home in the cold thinking about how her inexperience had cost the match. He had to have a better partner. The next round of matches started. No one noticed he had gone. He always left early. It did not matter to him if there were three more rounds to play, it would be gone eleven before he got home.

‘Hey where is that guy?’ Hail noticed he had already slipped out again on her.

‘Gone I think someone said.

Darn, I missed him again Hail thought standing up. She grabbed her racket and bag, headed for the door and ran to her car. Unlocking it, she threw her bag on the back seat, climbed in and started the engine. It was cold; the windows were covered in a light frost. She turned on the wipers to clear it and drove out of the carpark towards 11th Avenue.

Darn… which way… which way? She did not know which way he would have gone. Instinct took over. She turned right into Devonport Road at the round a bout and headed towards the city remembering someone saying that he lived in town. She drove over the high ground past Tenth and Ninth Avenues and slowed down when the road dropped down again to the same level as the park. If he was walking across Memorial Park he would meet up with the road, again… right about…here? She noticed the racket, the long hair and outline of his face in the glow of a street lamp.

‘Get in and I will give you a ride home.’

He looked confused and was about to refuse until he saw the beauty who played with the inner circle. That ring of confidence that seems impenetrable to new members and outsiders like himself. He was a rank outsider at the best of times. A little, shy around a beautiful woman. He knew he would have to battle his shyness to take part in a conversation with her.

‘Alright, yes I will,’ Antoine walked round the car and got in beside her. She smiled at him.

‘Thanks – it is a little cold out there.’

‘Hi, I’m Hail,’ she held out her hand.

‘That I know… everyone knows the name of the prettiest girl,’ he blushed having said it.

She laughed knowing that fact well… ‘And you are?’

‘Me?’ Antoine raised his hand to take hers and shook it. ‘I am Antoine de Muir.’

‘Antoine? Nice name – you leave so early… I wanted to talk to you.’ She still held his hand.

He looked surprised. ‘Usually no one bothers to talk to me.’

She let his hand go.

That was the trouble with being a loner. It did not make you unhappy but what it did do was prevent you from developing conversation skills especially with women. Listening had become his strong suite but his conversation was at best average. People did not know what to say to him and he was not a talker himself that inspired others to join in a conversation with him.

‘Where do you live?’

‘Down town amongst the shops, drive on and I will show you where to stop.’

‘Okay, she smiled at him, a little nervous now. She indicated and pulled away from the curb.

‘You are a really good player, why do you leave so early?’

‘I’m not really that good, I like to play but I don’t really care that much for the game or the way they hook you into competitions. I just want to go there, have a bash and not be dragged into things that do not concern me. That would make me lose interest real quick.’

She nodded thinking he is not the competitive type.

‘What do you do Antoine?’ She shot a glance at him when he did not answer. He looked confused.

‘For a living I mean.’

‘Oh…I am an artist.’

‘Really… what kind or work do you do?’

‘I paint landscapes mainly and create forms from all manner of products.’

‘True… would you show me your work?’

‘Sure you can see it if you want.’

‘Which way are we going?’

‘Stay on Devonport Road, go through the traffic lights at Elizabeth Street and then start to slow down and I will tell you when to stop.’

The Mercedes Benz climbed the hill and levelled out past Arundel Street and started to enter the city centre, crossed Elizabeth Street and slowed down amongst the fashionable down town shops. It was ten thirty pm; young people wandered the streets walking home. Loud music seemed to follow them out of the city from the busy bars and clubs down on the waterfront.

‘Right, begin to slow down… and… stop here. This is where I get out. Thank you for the ride.’

‘Wait – do you live here? Where?’

Antoine ducked his head to see better and pointed past her towards the Teasley Building on the right hand side of the road.

‘Behind that building there, see up on top there where it says Teasley Building and next door Teasley Garage 1932. My place is behind them.’

‘Really! I have never noticed that façade before. Can you show me?’

‘Ah… yes I can… better not leave your car here though… drive round the back and park.’

‘Okay show me?

‘Drive down to the Strand and turn right at the round a bout and drive slowly along and I will show you where to turn.’

‘Okay, here goes. She checked the mirror. A taxi flew past. Hail indicated, pulled out and drove down onto the Strand and turned right at the round a bout onto the Strand Extension and drove towards the railway bridge that crossed the harbour.

‘Right, turn here.’ Antoine pointed towards a steep driveway.

Hail swallowed nervously, swung the wheel and gave the gas pedal a solid kick. The Mercedes responded climbing the rise easily.

Antoine pointed towards a park space. Hail turned the car into it and stopped the engine.

‘Here we are.’ Antoine got out and fished through his pockets for a key. He opened the door and turned on a light. Hail got out of her car, locked it, and realised in her haste to get away that she had put on her coat but had forgotten to put on her track pants. Well too late now. She patted down her short skirt and followed him. He held the door open for her. She stepped inside a very large well-lit room. It felt warm after being outside despite its size. Oil paintings stood on easels in neat ordered lines out into the room, row upon row of them waiting to be examined. She stepped down two steps into the room feeling like Aladdin.

‘Look at all these paintings!’ Hardly believing her own eyes, she walked closer to study each one. Then realised she was forgetting her manners, she looked back over her shoulder at him. Antoine seemed unconcerned about her dashing off like a little kid; he was hanging up his coat and putting away his racket. She turned back to the paintings. Stunning images of the Tauranga Harbour, some period ones from the early 1920’s and 30’s others from the 1950’s and 60’s. Brilliant sunrises and sunsets. Paintings of early shipping and the rugged coast painted from up on the Coromandel Peninsular all captioned and priced. She moved slowly past each one trying to decide which one she liked best. Each one captured her in a different way. The light on the water, mist on a mountaintop, large rolling clouds, and falling rain all seemed alive and so real. Antoine walked over to a kitchen area. Stepped up two steps and into a cube shaped kitchen that took up the North West corner of the sixty foot by forty-foot room and turned on the kitchen light.

‘I am going to make a cup of tea would you like one?’

She stared at him. ‘Yes I would like one, thank you.’ She watched him for a moment. He seemed occupied with what he was doing and happy to let her continue to look. Hail went back to the paintings deciding there were too many to pick just one. She loved them all. Hail moved along the rows looking briefly at each one wondering where such talent came from. Are you born with it, or is it earned through practice, errors, mistakes and watching others to learn? She just knew that he had it. The jug came slowly to the boil a low whistle built sharply to an angry shriek. She looked over at him. He unplugged the kettle and poured hot water into mugs. Hail continued to look, moving to a working space set up with many brushes, paint, easel, glass pallet and bottles of liquin. That is when she saw it, an open Penthouse magazine. Odd she thought. She bent down and picked it up. A beautiful girl gazed out of the pages at her. The problem was she didn’t have a stitch of clothing on. Her face was stunning, hair the colour of autumn leaves, long slender neck, and full bust and trim tummy, then just he hint of hair forming between her legs. All the shapes correct from her sharp edged shoulders to the curve of her breasts to the smooth curve of her hips, plenty without excess, the true dream. She shot a quick glance at him over her shoulder then back to the magazine. He was getting the milk from the fridge.

‘Do you take milk or sugar?’ Antoine called out.

‘No milk or sugar – just as it comes,’ she replied without turning to look at him.

Hail found herself turning the page wanting to see more but was afraid to look. It made her heart beat faster like running a short distance fast while holding your breath. She wanted to see the rest of the girl that gazed out at her from the pages. The next three pages offered up more to look at than the first. Her full bust and her pussy neatly shaved for the viewer’s pleasure shocked her. Making her feel light headed as if someone had made her hold her breath far too long. She could hear him step down from the kitchen and walk towards her. What to do, should she bring up the dirty book? Too late, he came up behind her and she still held the open Penthouse in her hands. Confront him she decided and turned round to face Antoine. She looked up at him puzzled by what she had found.

‘What is this all about then? This isn’t landscape.’

‘Oh…’ he blushed. ‘Sorry about that.’

He handed her a mug of steaming hot tea and took the magazine from her.

‘Women aren’t supposed to see that. I forgot it was there and… well, wasn’t expecting… never really get visitors… sorry.’

‘Why do you have it for? Don’t you know what a girl looks like?’

‘Yes I know what a girl looks like, but not enough to draw one from memory. Look, take this pencil.’ Antoine reached over, picked one up along with a sheet of paper, and handed them to Hail. She took the offering but looked confused. He was standing too close. Suddenly she did not know about him and really wanted to leave but played along least he get upset.

‘Right, draw a naked man.’

‘I cannot draw.’

‘Just try.’

‘Okay.’ Hail sat on a stool placed the sheet of paper on a board and attempted to draw a naked man. She felt nervous with him watching. The result was not a stick man. But a fair attempt at drawing the male anatomy from memory. However, the head was too small. One shoulder came out larger than the other did. The arms were too short. The torso made him look as if he suffered from anorexia; the page ran out before she could draw any legs. Hail sat back studying her attempt.

‘Not bad for a first attempt. It just shows you that what you remember is not what people look like. And it is the same for me. I do not know what a girl looks like naked so when I am faced with a commission to paint a nude without so much as seeing what I must paint, then it becomes a problem. I cannot go to a vast stored knowledge in my head for a subject matter I know little about and draw, paint, and produce a stunning image my client expects without a model and models… well I know of none here. And the cost of hiring one would exceed the price I would be paid. So I went to a friend of mine to ask for some help and he let me look through his magazines. And I … well … I just kept it longer than I should.’

Hail picked up her tea while studying him. Deciding what she should do. Accept his explanation or not? He could see she was not convinced so he walked over to a large canvas and lifted a cotton sheet. A stunning image of a woman looking back over her left shoulder looked out at the viewer. Inviting them to look at her. Her lips were parted and her hair framed her face, tumbling over her shoulders, falling down her back to a point just past her shoulder blades, the painting continued down her bare back to end at her tail bone and then fade away to bare canvas. Antoine had picked up the beauty of her face. He seemed to draw a look from the very essence of the model and convey it onto canvas without giving it the time to evaporate. That come on look in her eyes. The long luscious hair tumbling over her beautifully sculptured shoulders to finish just past her shoulder blades and her bareback continued on to her tailbone before it faded to nothing. Next, he showed Hail the photos he had to work from, a woman looked defiantly out at the camera, her hair was up in most of the photos. In only one had she let it down. She wore a red blouse buttoned up to the neck. Her brooding looks were not what Antoine had portrayed onto canvas. Instead of her burning anger, he had captured a warm sensuous woman. Hail was impressed. Antoine reached over to a second canvas and lifted up the cotton sheet that protected it. This one was a painting of the head and shoulders of the same woman looking down. Her hair framed her face and fell off her shoulders drawing you in. Making you look towards her eyes, but her eyes looked away from you down towards the floor making the viewer follow her neck down to her full bust. Ample cleavage held closed by the leading edge of her dress. The painting faded away at that point to bare canvas.

‘Wow,’ was all Hail could muster. The painter had performed magic with his choice of colours and a few masterly brush strokes giving the edge of her dress a painterly look.

‘That is incredible… how do you do that?’

‘Do what?’

‘Make someone so dull look like… well like that.’ Hail waved her hand from the photos towards the canvas.

‘With the aid of the Pent…’ he blushed.

‘Penthouse magazine – right… now I see.’ This guy seriously needs a girlfriend Hail thought while nodding her head. She sat there drinking her tea and studied him while he spoke.

‘I’m glad you like them. I just hope she does.’ Antoine pointed to the photos. ‘I should know by Saturday if she does or she doesn’t.’

Hail picked up the concern in his voice. ‘Is that so important?’

Antoine nodded, breathing deep. ‘Yes it is… if she doesn’t like them and decides not to buy them then I am finished. I have not sold a thing for over two months now and this commission is the maker or the breaker. If she buys these, I can pay the mortgage on Monday and live for another month. If she does not, I am finished. The bank will foreclose on the mortgage and I will have nothing but a back pack and a camera to my name.’ he looked a little grim but smiled bravely. Hail sat there silent, waiting for him to continue.

‘That is my last two canvases. I have no more. I really do not know what happened to the market. It was going well. I would easily sell two or three paintings a month then poof, all gone. By July nothing, not one customer, just lookers. I held on by selling some photos and personal belongings. Then this woman comes in and wants nude paintings of herself to give to her husband. I asked her to strip so I could take some photos but she refused saying to make it up. They were going to be her parting gift to him. I did not know whether she was serious or not but I was so desperate that I agreed.’

‘Did you get a deposit?’

Antoine shook his head. ‘No.’

She nodded. Foolish.

He stared at her for a moment. Let out a sigh. ‘By Saturday I will know.’ He sat silent beside her and sipped his tea.

Hail was warming to him and decided to test him to see which way he would react. She put down her mug, ‘you could always do a nude painting of me. I would pose for you.’ She smiled a warm devious smile.

Antoine looked at her with concern, ‘what naked?’

She nodded smiling.

Antoine frowned. ‘What would your boyfriend say – he would come looking for me so he could knock my block off.’

Hail laughed. ‘It would be my gift to him. Should he play up, I will give the painting to him so he can see what he has just lost.’

Antoine frowned confused.

Hail laughed, ‘I don’t currently have a boyfriend.’

‘What… you don’t?’ Antoine suddenly became more interested.

Hail shook her head. ‘No I don’t.’

Antoine’s jaw dropped open with surprise.

‘Okay… so long as I don’t get my face rearranged by some crazy boyfriend.’

Hail patted his shoulder and smiled. ‘Don’t worry, you won’t.’

‘What about me, do I stand a chance with Miss Hail, seeing that I am just a penniless painter with no prospects beyond tomorrow?’

Hail laughed again. ‘We can find out now can’t we? Do you really live here?’

‘Yes.’ Antoine nodded.

‘Where do you sleep?’

Antoine pointed up to a mezzanine floor above the kitchen and dining area. ‘Up there.’

Hail looked up to where he was pointing. ‘How novel, can I have a look?’

Antoine nodded still sipping his tea. ‘Yes go ahead.’

‘How do you get up there?’

‘Over there up that ladder.’ Antoine pointed to the corner of the kitchen where a ladder went straight up. ‘Just be careful, don’t fall.’

‘Yikes.’ Hail gulped. ‘Don’t look up my dress.’

Antoine smiled now. ‘Would I do that?’

‘Yes.’

‘I will try not to.’

‘Men.’ Hail rolled her eyes in jest.

Antoine watched her climb the ladder to the top and look around. Hail found she had to hang on tight to the ladder, which went straight up leaving no room for error. She finally made it. The double bed was neatly made; there was a bathroom and toilet in a separate room and a skylight window looked out above rooftops and down the harbour. Twinkling lights peppered the darkness making it look like a magical scene from a fairy tale. She looked over at the bed again and spotted a teddy bear. She picked it up and smiled sweetly at it. Held it near her face and smelt it. It felt warm and cosy.

‘And who are you?’ She said to the bear not expecting an answer. She put the bear back on the