Dudes Down Under (6 page)

“
Oh, Skeet, um, what about sharks? I’ve heard that white-pointer sharks are common in these waters.” Kylie Andrews sounded worried.

“
Well now, Miss Andrews, ya won’t have to worry about sharks. The bloody Crocs ate ‘em all.”

The room erupted in laughter. Skeet was in his element and the guests loved it, and him.

“
All right, Didi me darlin’, it’s all yours.”

“
Thanks, Skeet. Morning, folks. I am the leisure and pleasure coordinator. If I had said that to an Australian audience, we would have had x-rated remarks flooding the room. You Americans are a well-mannered bunch. We’ll have to rectify that.”

They laughed on cue and a couple tried out the new idea. Didi was relieved. They all appeared to have a good sense of humor and, even better, seemed interested in the Aussie Encounter games she had organized.

“
First up, folks, I am gonna take it easy. You lot haven’t had a chance to even wet your feet yet and the time difference can catch up with you. Tomorrow we are gonna have a couple of different things happening, bearing in mind these are all things you have free choice in joining. First up, we’ll have a tug-o-war. Two teams: male guests versus our staff. Next up, mixed teams male and female, our staff versus guests. Act three, ladies versus ladies. Act four, all members from each winning side have a play off. Catch? Of course there is. The tug of war will be held either side of a large, deep, mud pool - croc-free, of course. I’ll be taking team members' names this evening after the welcome to our world Bar-B-Q which, as always, is guest choice. We will have the normal delicious Bar-B-Q fare, plus some purely Aussie dishes that I just know you will love to try. The Bar-B-Q commences at six-thirty p.m. We will be holding a dance to a great local band afterwards. No finish time. It’s a typical Australian do. It ends when it ends, or at sun-up, whichever comes first. Questions so far? Yes, Miss Sheridan?”

“
Um, like, what’s this tug of whatever thingy?”

“
Wow! How many of you don’t know what a tug-of-war is?”

Four people raised their hands.

“
Well, I’ll have to give you a little demonstration. I need a couple of volunteers. Anyone?”

The dreamy Tristan Jones and equally luscious Jack Starr came on stage, both smiling like teenage boys.

“
Okay, you two, do ya know how it’s done?”

“
Yep, sure do,” said Tristan.

“
Uh-huh, no problem,” said Jack.

“
Skeet, fetch me a rope, please, mate.”

Skeet bought a long thick piece of rope to the stage.

“
For the people watching, these two guys are each gonna take hold of one end of the rope. Um ... er … I’ll lay down here and pretend I’m the mud puddle.”

“
Not a good idea, Didi, ma’am. We both might want to fall in!”

Didi’s face turned a wonderful shade of red as she managed a squeak. “Oh, oh my! A girl can dream, I suppose.” Turning her mind reluctantly back to her job, she continued, “The object of the exercise is one team to pull the other team into the mud-puddle. Guys, go for it. Try not to land on me too hard. Go!”

The two superstars started pulling. Soon enthusiastic members of the audience joined them. Didi scuttled reluctantly out of the way. Tristan Jones was directly followed in a tight clinch by his ex-wife who didn’t have the rules quite right as she was hanging onto his waist, or close by, instead of the rope.

“
Hey, Lucy, take a look at this. Whoo-hoo, mate. This is gonna get real interestin’. Seems like them girls got a whole other form of tugging in mind.”

“
Skeet, you are dreadful but, yeah, now that could get very interesting, very interesting indeed.”

Lucy watched as the women began teaming up on either side. The current wives of two of the men didn’t seem overly concerned, at least not on the surface. Lucy thought it would be illuminating to be a fly on the wall when these partners were again in private.

Didi could see this was getting out of hand - well, sort of. “Okay, everyone’s got the idea. Too hard a surface to play here, folks. Skeet will be waiting outside the Swamp bar tomorrow arvo. He’ll show you where we will be playing the real deal. I would love to see you all participate. I think it will be fun. So, five-thirty P.M. tomorrow, folks. I hope to see you then.”

Chapter 5

Lana Peters hurried to catch up with Kylie Andrews. “Hey, girlfriend, wait up! What the hell was that in there? You gotta get a grip, girl, and I don’t mean the kind of grip you were getting. I thought you and Tristan were over all that divorce stuff,” Lana said.

Kylie Andrews was clearly not in a mood to be discreet. “I am going to get him back, Lana, whatever it takes.”

“
Aww, c’mon now, be sensible. He has well and truly moved on, girl. Dammit, Kylie, you’ve seen him with those kids. He’s happy, very happy. Can’t you see that?”

“
He’s infatuated with that plastic piece of garbage. I am going to get him back, you mark my words, Lana. You heard it here first.”

Kylie Andrews flounced off, flinging her heavy shoulder-length hair back from her flushed face.

“
That doesn’t sound too promising, does it?”

Lana turned around and gave Vanessa Dayton a grin. “Phew, girl, I’m so pleased you and, er, Tony are so civilized about your bust-up.
 
You and Karen get along together well, huh?”

“
Karen? Oh … yes, of course, Karen. She seems so young. Yes we seem to be able to maintain a cordial relationship, thus far.”

Lana Peters caught the edge of ice in Vanessa Dayton’s voice but decided that it was, after all, her manner; she always appeared elegant and unruffled on the surface. Oh yes indeed, this little holiday down under was already proving to be well worth the money.

Lucy and Didi, together with Doc and Skeet, were sitting chatting after everyone had left the Grand Ballroom.

“
Doc, you might need to hang around during the tug-o-war tomorrow. I’m thinking it could get mighty bloody interestin' - or  just bloody. You get my drift, mate?” said Skeet seriously.

“
Well, Skeet ol’ pal, that’s what I’m paid for. A bit of testosterone hanging around, hey, mate?”

“
You can call it any bloody thing ya like, mate. I reckon it’s just full on back-biting females with green eyes and long claws. Should be lots of fun. I’m lookin' forward to hosin’ em down after the games.” Skeet had a dreamy wet t-shirt look in his eyes.

“
Whadya reckon, Didi? Gonna be a bit heated, yeah?”

“
Hmmm? Oh sorry, Skeet, did you say somethin’?”

“
Where’s your head at, Didi? Well now, every damned female in this place seems to have a bit of that hot-flush stuff happenin’. Maybe Doc here can give ya somethin’ for it!”

Didi grinned good-naturedly at her friends. “Hey, you lot, a girl can dream, can’t she?”

“
Speaking of dreamland, has anyone spotted Ginny since this morning?” Lucy asked.

Skeet shook his head, as did Doc. Didi shrugged her shoulders. “You worry too much about Ginny, Luce. She’s a big girl. Besides, she’s not due to start work till late tonight, is she?”

“
No, you’re right, Didi. I guess I do worry about her. She’s been so sheltered, you know. These folks live in the fast lane, the fastest lane. I just don’t want her getting herself into any trouble, that’s all.”

Skeet put his arm loosely around Lucy’s shoulders, “Well, chooky, she’s gotta learn to be a big girl sometime, ain’t she?”

“
Yeah, Skeet. I’ll try not to worry, all right?”

“
Gotcha, chooky, and that Pope fella’s gonna try not to be Catholic as well.” Skeet grinned and took off at a good pace before Lucy could slug him.

She was a little weary; perhaps a swim and a sauna would help her relax. The tug-of-war tomorrow might end up being more war than tug.

*   *  *

The guests had split off in a multitude of directions after Orientation, many of them wearing the recommended sun hats and Gothic sunscreen. For those guests who did not wish to explore on foot, solar powered buggies were available, two to each bungalow. These little things were whisper-quiet and had a bright canopy overhead with the bungalow number clearly visible on top to make it identifiable from the air. They had a top speed of twenty miles-per-hour, more than adequate to get out of the way of anything dangerous.

The twilight of day one ushered in a glittering overhead spectacle of stars. Many guests availed themselves of an outdoor dinner in one of the many small intimate restaurants scattered throughout the complex.

The guests had a multitude of choices of how they could spend their first full night in paradise. Most chose to explore, dine and then walk along the long palm-fringed stretches of beach. Croc patrols were on duty 24/7. The screened outdoor movie enclosure attracted a few - mostly the guests' staff members - all able to enjoy the same luxury as their employers at no expense to themselves. They were a happy group of campers, noisy and appreciative of the comfortable deck chairs and full waiter service with selections of drinks in the ice-tubs alongside each deck chair.

Lucy returned to her bungalow and fixed herself a Sundowner. She kicked off her shoes, pulled her long hair loose and wandered out to the large balcony that afforded her the most spectacular views of her island home. She wondered what was going on behind the closed doors of the bungalows scattered around the complex.

*  *  *

Lana Peters sat with her legs stretched out in front of her, sipping chilled champagne and looking up at the night sky. She made a note to herself to ask Skeet to point out the Southern Cross. It felt a little strange not to look up and see the northern hemisphere’s ceiling above her.

She was lonely, dammit. However, no one could compete with her drive, her need to be in control. Just once she would like to meet a man who could help her relax, who could talk to her comfortably as an equal, and not just see dollar signs when he looked into her eyes.

She had already decided her young male companion should return Stateside. His youth, and the fact that she had paid him to accompany her, bothered her now. She didn’t want complications in her life, so it had seemed a wise decision at that time. Now, however, he simply made her feel older, and more alone than ever.

Chapter 6

Kylie Andrews was drunk, very, very drunk. She sat at the wheel of her buggy, facing the lagoon.

“
I don’t care. You hearing me, God? I don’t care no more. I don’t love him, I just hate her.” She was screaming the words aloud, ranting at the sky. “She’s got to pay, God. Yeah, she has got to pay.

Tony Brown was walking along the edge of the lagoon, enjoying a cigarette out of sight of anyone that knew that smoking was against his stringent belief system. He heard someone cry out. He didn’t recognize the voice but the sadness in it drew him. He was surprised to find Kylie slumped against the steering wheel of her little buggy, crying.

Oh, hell. What do I do now? I can’t just leave her here like this. What if one of the crocodiles gets her? Shit! I do not need this. Poor little thing. She just hasn’t got what it takes to move on. Not like Vanessa.

Vanessa had acted as if his betrayal with Karen had been a mere inconvenience. She was an iceberg. It made his head spin with how fast she had accepted the situation, called her lawyers, and left.

Dammit, I can’t leave Kylie here
. “Kylie. Kylie honey. C’mon … easy girl. Shove over and let me take you back to your bungalow. Kylie? It’s me, it’s Tony. C’mon, hon, you gotta get back to your bungalow before anyone else sees you out here like this.”

Kylie heard the voice. It sounded worried. Nothing to worry about; she was just a little tipsy, was all. The thought was rapidly followed by her hanging across the seat in the buggy and vomiting all over Tony and his nice designer-made pants.

“
Sooorry,” she managed before throwing up again. Then she passed out cold.

“
Shit! Ugghh, I stink! Dammit, Kylie, wake up! Oh dammit, now what the hell am I supposed to do with you?”

He looked around him hoping to see someone - anyone - that could give him a hand. Nobody in sight. Shit!

The lights of another bungalow glimmered through the trees. It didn’t appear to be too far away. He would need help. He didn’t even know what bungalow Kylie was in. The last thing he needed was for anyone to see him in this state. He looked down at his stinking pants. He wanted to take them off. They felt utterly disgusting. He’d have to see who was in the bungalow first.

He headed off in the direction of the lights and came to it quickly. Someone was sitting in the dark on the balcony having a cigarette.

“
Hello, up there,” he called. “Can you give me a hand with something?”