cheeks flushed red at the
compliment. She’d never heard someone say anything so nice before.
She decided to shelve the words in her mind. If she wanted to she
could recall the words whenever she felt the need.
Wade took one last tour of the lower deck
before walking back up the stairs. For the first time since he
bought the yacht, he forgot to glance at the barometer. If he did,
alarm bells would’ve rung in his mind to alert him of the danger
forming further out at sea.
The two motored back to shore in the small
dingy. Wade tied the tiny craft to the wharf. In less than a minute
he brought the motorbike to life.
While Anneli wrapped her arms tight around
Wade’s waist, he navigated the bike towards the only mountain which
overlooked Darwin. Almost the entire length of the long poles
strapped to the side of the motor bike trailed behind them.
The two riders failed to see the storm clouds
ahead of cyclone Tracy blinking out the stars a few dozen at a
time.
Eight hours remained before she hit land.
Wade expertly followed the double line in the
middle of the road as he navigated the thirteen dry bends to the
top of the mountain. He parked next to a miner’s hut in the middle
of the plateau. The area of flat ground looked no larger than an
average house block. He unstrapped the long rigid canvas bag from
the side of the motorbike, placed it on the ground and helped
Anneli off the bike. Immediately she turned in slow circles,
admiring the view.
“Darwin looks splendored from this height,”
she said. “The view of the street lights takes your breath
away.”
“Six hundred feet above Darwin certainly has
a grand view. Where you’re standing is almost the perfect place to
watch the sun rise.”
“Almost,” echoed Anneli, sounding
puzzled.
“There’s a plateau the size of a car on the
small rise directly behind you. To me it’s the perfect view. The
grass is a mirror image of the seventeenth green at the Flinders
private golf club. Before you see the view, please allow me to give
you a free guided tour of the hut.”
Wade didn’t wait for a reply. He walked over,
opening the door.
Anneli stepped to the threshold, looking
inside.
“You can go in, I won’t bite.”
“I know you won’t. I’m concerned whoever owns
this place will find us inside. He might even call the police.”
Wade chuckled mischievously. “I promise I
won’t prosecute.”
“You?” questioned Anneli turning her head to
look at him.
“Not many people know I own this mansion. The
land around here belongs to me too. Once you step inside the hut,
I’ll be able to prove it.”
Wade sidestepped to the corner of the hut. He
stooped under a ‘lean-to’ made of tin, hovered over a small
generator and flicked the start button. The machine coughed a few
times before sinking into a noisy rhythm. In the center of the hut
a single light globe slowly brightened.
Wade coaxed Anneli to enter. He walked her to
the adjacent wall where she stood gob-smacked. Hanging off the wall
she saw a photo of Wade standing in front of Charlotte. She turned
to face Wade who held for hand firmly. She stared at him through
protruding eyes.
“So it is true, what you said about owning
this hut?” she whispered.
Wade puffed out his chest, his lazy luring
smile enveloping his face. “Yes. I want everyone to believe I’m a
humble man so I don’t spread it around I actually bought this
place.”
Anneli giggled. “I’m sorry to announce you
resemble a proud man in the photo.”
“It happened to be a happy occasion. I took
possession of Charlotte and this place on the same day. The local
constable volunteered to take the photo.”
The guided tour of the single room miner’s
hut lasted no more than five minutes. In one corner Anneli saw a
small brick fire place. Cobwebs hung from every corner, nook and
cranny of the hut. In their hay day the exposed wooden beams could
have been a talking piece. Anneli felt saddened at seeing deep
fissures in the dry
compliment. She’d never heard someone say anything so nice before.
She decided to shelve the words in her mind. If she wanted to she
could recall the words whenever she felt the need.
Wade took one last tour of the lower deck
before walking back up the stairs. For the first time since he
bought the yacht, he forgot to glance at the barometer. If he did,
alarm bells would’ve rung in his mind to alert him of the danger
forming further out at sea.
The two motored back to shore in the small
dingy. Wade tied the tiny craft to the wharf. In less than a minute
he brought the motorbike to life.
While Anneli wrapped her arms tight around
Wade’s waist, he navigated the bike towards the only mountain which
overlooked Darwin. Almost the entire length of the long poles
strapped to the side of the motor bike trailed behind them.
The two riders failed to see the storm clouds
ahead of cyclone Tracy blinking out the stars a few dozen at a
time.
Eight hours remained before she hit land.
Wade expertly followed the double line in the
middle of the road as he navigated the thirteen dry bends to the
top of the mountain. He parked next to a miner’s hut in the middle
of the plateau. The area of flat ground looked no larger than an
average house block. He unstrapped the long rigid canvas bag from
the side of the motorbike, placed it on the ground and helped
Anneli off the bike. Immediately she turned in slow circles,
admiring the view.
“Darwin looks splendored from this height,”
she said. “The view of the street lights takes your breath
away.”
“Six hundred feet above Darwin certainly has
a grand view. Where you’re standing is almost the perfect place to
watch the sun rise.”
“Almost,” echoed Anneli, sounding
puzzled.
“There’s a plateau the size of a car on the
small rise directly behind you. To me it’s the perfect view. The
grass is a mirror image of the seventeenth green at the Flinders
private golf club. Before you see the view, please allow me to give
you a free guided tour of the hut.”
Wade didn’t wait for a reply. He walked over,
opening the door.
Anneli stepped to the threshold, looking
inside.
“You can go in, I won’t bite.”
“I know you won’t. I’m concerned whoever owns
this place will find us inside. He might even call the police.”
Wade chuckled mischievously. “I promise I
won’t prosecute.”
“You?” questioned Anneli turning her head to
look at him.
“Not many people know I own this mansion. The
land around here belongs to me too. Once you step inside the hut,
I’ll be able to prove it.”
Wade sidestepped to the corner of the hut. He
stooped under a ‘lean-to’ made of tin, hovered over a small
generator and flicked the start button. The machine coughed a few
times before sinking into a noisy rhythm. In the center of the hut
a single light globe slowly brightened.
Wade coaxed Anneli to enter. He walked her to
the adjacent wall where she stood gob-smacked. Hanging off the wall
she saw a photo of Wade standing in front of Charlotte. She turned
to face Wade who held for hand firmly. She stared at him through
protruding eyes.
“So it is true, what you said about owning
this hut?” she whispered.
Wade puffed out his chest, his lazy luring
smile enveloping his face. “Yes. I want everyone to believe I’m a
humble man so I don’t spread it around I actually bought this
place.”
Anneli giggled. “I’m sorry to announce you
resemble a proud man in the photo.”
“It happened to be a happy occasion. I took
possession of Charlotte and this place on the same day. The local
constable volunteered to take the photo.”
The guided tour of the single room miner’s
hut lasted no more than five minutes. In one corner Anneli saw a
small brick fire place. Cobwebs hung from every corner, nook and
cranny of the hut. In their hay day the exposed wooden beams could
have been a talking piece. Anneli felt saddened at seeing deep
fissures in the dry
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