As Luck Would Have It
short story
by Stephen Collicoat
'May I join you?'
I glanced up. The man standing at our table was tall, tanned and aged
in his early sixties. He was dressed in a faded blue T-shirt, jeans and
loafers. Despite his casual clothes, he looked rich.
Now, I'm not a social type. As Luise says, I'm the last person you'd
take on a sea cruise, but I'm not unreasonable. You can't join 53 couples
for a cruise above Australia, visiting Timor, Flores and Arnhem Land
without expecting others to join your table. To explore exotic locations
without dirt and discomfort, a soft adventure group tour makes sense,
so even prickly individuals like myself try to fit in.
'Of course,' Luise responded. 'Please sit down.' Like me, she's a
private person, but she's also part of a group of 23 married or single women
with whom she enjoys long luncheons every few months. The nearest I
have to friends are one or two of these women or nodding acquaintance with
some of the husbands.
The stranger sat down and offered his hand. 'Paul Hudson.'
'Stephen Girton.'
'Not Steve?'
'He prefers Stephen,' Luise said firmly. 'Some men are Stephen, others
are Steve. I'm Luise, his wife.'
'Pleased to meet you both.' he stared at me. 'We've met before.'
'No.'
'Are you sure? You look familiar and I've a good memory for faces.'
'No. I'd remember you,' I smiled.
'That's odd. Perhaps you look like someone else.'
'Probably. There's a lot who like me.'
'I don't think so,' he decided. He shook his head. 'Sorry. I get a bit
obsessed. It'll come.'
'It won't,' I predicted. 'We've never met.'
'Is this your first cruise?' Luise asked.
Paul smiled. It was a boyish, open smile. I sense this was a man many
would feel flattered to know. Normally, I hardly notice people.
Sometimes, I might go down to the village for a newspaper and meet one of
Luise's friends. Later, if I mention the meeting, she'll ask me how her
friend looked, what she was wearing, what was she carrying and so on. I
can't tell her a thing. Not a single detail, even if my life depended on
it.
'You're hopeless!' Luise would laugh. 'I can never understand how a man
who wrote for a living can be so disinterested in others. Perhaps it's
a male thing.'
She has a point, but it's a little unfair. I'm selectively observant. I
was, for instance, closing watching Paul Hudson while disguising my
interest.
'So what made you sign up for the cruise?' Paul asked Luise, signaling
the wine waiter.
'Stephen and I felt we were getting in a rut. We traveled, but it was
to all the usual spots: Singapore, Bali, Italy, France, So we agreed for
Stephen's 62nd. birthday, we'd stretch ourselves. Try something quite
different.'
Paul turned to me. 'Congratulations on your birthday. When is it?'
'Oh, a few days yet,' I answered vaguely. I hate the fuss strangers
make over birthdays. 'What made you come?'
'Much the same as you guys. A search for soft adventure. Step out of my
comfort zone. All the cliches. For the last six years, I've tried to
visit one challenging place every six months. Have you been to Mynamar?
If you like Asia in your face, this would appeal to you.'
And so we chatted through dinner. Luise found that Paul was currently
single, having amicably separated from his wife of 20 years, that he had
three children, one from a previous marriage and that he lived at
Paynesville, a village on Victoria's southern coast. He was vague, as many
older men are, about his work, but I gathered he was semi-retired,
holding several non-executive directorships in private companies. I told
him, in turn, I was now fully retired, but had been a journalist rising to
become Editor of 'The Adelaide Advertiser' seven years before
retirement. He gave a slight start when he heard my former trade, but relaxed
when I went on to recount my party piece - the tale of an unexpected
visit by the paper's owner, Rupert Murdoch.
'What a wonderful night,' Luise sighed as our laughter died. It was
drawing toward the end of our meal. We were dining in an open-air
restaurant on the upper deck. It had been a hot, dry day in Darwin: the port
shimmering as we weighed anchor. The great red sun had hung languidly
above the horizon as though too tired to go to bed. With dusk however and
in the open sea, a light breeze had sprung up and the air was now
fresh, sweet and balmy. Three tables away, a party of four had ordered Moet
to celebrate their first night at sea and I savored the delicious
chocolate scent of champagne as the cork was drawn and the foaming wine
filled each crystal flute.
Luise returned to her theme. 'Isn't it marvelous to be alive?' she
enthused. 'We're so fortunate to be here. Stephen, I'm so glad we made the
effort. One always worries about the house, whether the pets are happy
and so on, but then you come back and find everything's the same; even
the news a week, fortnight or month after you left is almost a repeat.
Most of the time your family and friends weren't even aware you were
traveling. Getting older, you fret about all sorts of silly things. You
worry if you've packed too much or too little or the wrong things. If
you're going to sleep well, what the food's like, whether you'll like the
people you meet, terrorism, bird flu, malaria, typhoid, engine failure
- you name it - but generally everything's fine. Anyway, what's the
alternative? Sit around, too scared to venture out, waiting to die?'
'Do your parents travel?' Paul asked idly.
'No,' Luise said. 'Stephen's parents were the same. Total ''stick in
the muds''. Stephen's mother might have liked to travel, but her husband
was hopeless. Once we invited them to stay with us in a rented house at
Sorrento. Stephen's mother was ready to go, coat on, clutching her
handbag, really excited at having a break, but his dad threw a wobbly.'
'He sulked in his shed and refused to come out,' I explained.
'So did you go anyway?'
'Well Luise and I did, but my mother refused to come. Said if she
didn't feed him while she was away, who would? She was terribly
disappointed.'
'And of course nobody suggested that the selfish old bastard could feed
himself,' Luise added tartly. 'Women of that generation were
brainwashed into the idea of service.'
'He was growing senile,' I shrugged. 'Mum was scared he'd leave the gas
cooker alight.'
'Or burn down the house from spite,' Luise suggested. 'He had a mean
streak.'
'Hopefully, not a family trait,' I said irritably, finishing my coffee.
I felt, not for the first time, that Luise was too trusting. Who was
Paul Hudson that he should be privy to family secrets?
Perhaps sensing my mood, Luise continued placatingly, 'Anyway, it's
fantastic we were all here on an exciting adventure. Just think of it.
Soon we'll be at West Timor, off-limits to tourists for years, then Komoda
Island in Indonesia to see those scary dragons, on to Dili and so on,
returning via Arnhem Land where we'll be shown aboriginal rock paintings
fifty thousand years old. This isn't a week at Christmastime,
sweltering in some miserable camp with countless others. This is living. I wish
that just once my parents could have done something like this. My Dad
was unlike Stephen's. He loved the thought of travel. That's what Mum
and Dad always planned. A plump nest egg that would pay for some overseas
trips. Maybe nothing as grand as this, but certainly Asia. Dad went to
Macao when he was a teenager and he never forgot how wonderful it was.
He always promised Mum he'd take her there'
'Maybe he still can,' Paul suggested.
'I'm afraid not. They're dead now. Just when they reached the stage
when Dad retired and they were looking forward to living off their money,
a terrible thing happened...'
'Damn!' I cried as I swept my half-full glass across the table. The red
wine splashed across the linen tablecloth, splashing onto Paul. 'I'm so
sorry,' I apologized, springing up. 'I must be tired. That was clumsy.'
'Not a problem,' Paul assured me, dabbing at his T-shirt. 'It's sure to
soak out. It wouldn't matter with this old rag anyway. A few drops of
Hermitage gives it character.'
In minutes, the setting was cleared, a fresh tablecloth was laid and we
finished our meal with a refill of coffee and liqueurs.
'So what did you think of Paul?' Luise asked when we reached our
stateroom and undressed for bed.
'Pleasant enough,' I replied non-commitally.
'Do you like him?'
'I don't know. I'm sure plenty would. He's charming.'
'But you don't like charm?'
'I mistrust it,' I admitted. 'It's like a mask. You wonder what lies
beneath.'
'Perhaps just a charming man. You always look for the hair in the egg.'
'Maybe.'
Later in bed, Luise surprised me by asking, 'Why did you spill the
wine?'
'You know why. I was clumsy. It happens.'
'I don't believe that. The glass was nowhere near your hand. You had to
stretch to knock it over. Paul didn't see it, but I did.'
'That's silly,' I protested. 'Why would I do that?'
'As a diversion. For some reason, you wanted to change the subject.
What was the problem? I was talking about my parents. You never seemed
uncomfortable with that subject before.'
'I was clumsy,' I repeated.
Luise usually has the last word. This was no exception. 'Whatever you
say,' she yawned. 'Maybe next time you should try a different tack. We
could devise a set of signals. Wink broadly. Scratch your left ear lobe.
A fit of coughing. Beat a tattoo in Morse code with your bread stick.
Even kick me lightly under the table, though I wouldn't advise that. We
have to work this out. It's messy and expensive if everytime I say
something you don't like, you fling yourself on the wine. Some of our
dinner guests wear more expensive gear than Paul's raggedy old T-shirt and
jeans.'
Discretion is the secret of every happy marriage. Long ago, I learnt to
hold my tongue. 'Goodnight, dear,' I kissed Luise lightly, feeling both
amused and impressed by my clever partner.
So time passed with each day bringing excitement and fun: boarding the
Zodiac rafts, wading ashore on tropic islands and our first sight of
Komodo dragons ('They hamstring their prey to leave them alive but
helpless, so they can come back to tear of mouthfuls of flesh,' the guide
explained. 'Sounds like my ex-wife,' one of the party remarked dryly.)
There were the markets of Dili, remnants of the 500-year old Portuguese
colonial heritage, giggling children and their friendly, gracious
parents. All too soon, the boat turned, circling back toward Arnhem Land.
We sent time with Paul. He was wary with me but clearly liked Luise and
she enjoyed his company. Sometimes, I would be quietly observing him
and he would catch my eye, quickly smiling before he turned away.
One of the pleasures of growing old is that I no longer try to force
the pace. I accept things happen at their own pace. Fate having brought
Paul and I together seemed in no hurry to reveal its plans.
It was therefore with a sense of inevitability that late one night
having left Luise asleep in our stateroom, I dressed and climbed on deck to
find Paul standing by himself, leaning on the rail as he smoked a
cigar.
He smiled ruefully as though expecting me.
'Like one?' he offered his cigar case.
I was tempted but refused.
We stood together leaning on the rail watching the silver wave curl
away from the bow. Beyond the faint lights of the boat, sky and sea merged
in the black night.
After several minutes silence, he quietly spoke.
'When did you first know?'
'From the moment I saw you.'
'Never a doubt?'
'Not the slightest.'
'How? I thought I was safe. Different name. I look different.'
'Yes. I can't tell you exactly what it was. Of course, there are some
things you can't change, such as your height, but with you it was just
there. Instantly.'
'I guess you must have studied me in the past.'
'Yes. No fan has ever watched his hero on film, studied every gesture
or listened to his voice than I.'
'Once I might have felt flattered. Of course, I always knew there was a
risk in coming back, but it seemed remote. Finally, I decided I
couldn't stay away.'
I believed him. There seemed a fitting irony that a man who damaged the
lives of so many would love his country.
'So, have we met before? I always felt you were familiar.'
'No. I was going to attend one of your seminars once. Go undercover and
expose the fraud, but something came up and I was unable to go. I could
have sent one of my journos but I thought I'd do a better job. Pity.
The story might have warned off some punters. By the time I finally
cleared my plate, you were in receivership.'
'But this is more than a newspaperman looking for a good story, or even
a crusading journalist isn't it? I sense your interest is personal.
That you really hate me.'
'Yes, I do. I always hoped that somehow we'd meet. I even sensed it
might happen. As luck would have it, we have.'
'If you never invested in one of my wealth programs, what's your beef?'
'My parents in law invested with you and you wiped them out.'
'I didn't wipe anyone out. The market did. If you want someone to
blame, why not look at my backers: the fund managers, the bankers. Can't you
see that if they just held their nerve, everyone, including Luise's
parents would be rolling in cash today?'
'No. They died of ill-health years ago. The stress of dying in poverty
just made it worse.'
'Well, I'm sorry, but I think you're being unfair. Nobody forced anyone
to attend my seminars. I didn't twist arms. People were eager to sign
those contracts. Be honest. Every investor expected exceptional returns
- much more than they could get from shares or term deposits. I was
upfront about the risks. High returns only come from serious risk. These
were highly leveraged property deals.'
'As I recall your line was, ''Do you accept the risk of wealth?'' '
Paul smirked. 'Great appeal, wasn't it? So, I put a spin on it. Is
that a crime? Was I supposed to stress that using the leverage of other
people's money can work both ways? Do you expect me to dwell on the
nasties like unlimited liability and still run my business? Wasn't it your
job on the newspapers and the government to warn people about the
dangers? I'm a businessman, not a nursemaid and my investors were intelligent
adults, not children.'
'Spare me,' I interrupted. 'I know all your arguments. I've read
everything you've ever written including the tripe you wrote in those manuals
that accompanied the seminars. I thought it was rubbish then and
nothing's changed my mind.'
'You needn't be unpleasant,' Paul protested mildly. 'I thought we could
have a civilized conversation. Address your concerns.'
He sighed. 'It's disappointing. Nothing I say will make any difference.
In your mind, Luise's parents are sad victims and I'm some sort of
devil.'
'I can't blame them not seeing through you. After all, you fooled
financial journalists, bankers and fund managers for a long time. I'll admit
that Beth and Jim were greedy and stupid investors.'
'Well, hooray!' Paul sneered. 'But I resent your implication that I'm a
conman. Can't you see I was selling was hope? People used to call me
the magician. What they forgot was magic only works as long as you
believe. Just like a fairy tale. The moment you doubt, the gold vanishes. To
the end, I kept warning my backers and investors to stay focused. When
things were getting tight, I poured bucketfuls of my own money into the
scheme. Pump priming. But it was like a run on a bank. Some wimps
couldn't stand the pressure and sold out taking 10 cents in the dollar, the
papers picked up on it and soon we had a panic. Fate is a woman. She
demands that she's wooed by a hero - a brave, resourceful individual. She
despises wimps. If everyone had held on a little longer, we'd all be
rich and I'd be named in the Honor's List, dining with the Prime Minister
at the Lodge instead of sneaking back into Australia with a dodgy
passport.'
'Beth and Jim were naive, but they were also honest, decent people.'
'It's only money. You lose it. You make it again.'
'Not at their age. And it's more than money. You destroyed their hope
and trust and I loath you doing that.'
'I gave them something valuable. I showed them there's a world far
beyond the mundane. It's not some shabby con. It's a real place. I once
lived there. I will again. It's a place for special people.' He took a
last draw on his cigar and flung it into the dark. The lighted butt flared
like a comet's tail as it disappeared. He looked at me critically.
'It's not a world for you.'
'You're right,' I agreed. 'I'm happy with all I have.'
'But I'm not,' Paul added passionately. 'I could have stayed overseas.
I had enough to live on.'
'Millions, I heard.'
'Oh that's some nonsense from the liquidators, together with a smuggled
art collection, the Ferrari, the Roller and who knows what else. I
roared with laughter when I read that report in London. I came back, partly
because I love Australia but also because I'm determined to show my
scheme can work. My failure last time was in the timing, but now the
timing's right. I'm a man of vision. Of course, I want to be rich again, but
I also want everyone - all the Beth's and Jim's of this world - to swim
in the river of gold. I know you distrust me, but you're a very
cautious person anyway. If you're big enough to put aside your prejudices,
you'd see I'm really a good man. I have feelings. I'm not the monster that
you people in the press portray. I'd like nothing better for all the
little folk like Luise's parents to bless the day they trusted me and let
me make them rich. Believe me, I won't rest until I've turned all this
around for them.'
Fortunately, I've only met a few conmen in my life, but the best were
all like Paul: they held an absolute conviction in what they told
others. 'Come on,' he coaxed me. 'I like you. I'd really like Luise and yourself
to remain friends.'
'Do you really think she'd be friends with the man who financially
ruined her parents?'
'Why not? She's a clever woman. I'm sure she'd understand if I could
only explain. What's the point of being bitter? Come on. Let's put the
past behind us' He paused doubtfully, 'You're not going to tell the
authorities about me? Get me arrested?'
'No. I'll never tell anyone, including Luise about this conversation.'
'If you think that's best. Well, with that in mind, I'm glad we cleared
the air. Will you shake on it?'
I took his hand.
The next morning, the travelling clock alarm rang at 5 am.
Luise stretched luxuriously. 'What a wonderful sleep,' she sighed. 'I
didn't stir all night. How did you go?'
'Went out like a light. My head hardly hit the pillow.'
'Marvelous,' she agreed and getting out of bed, went to shower.
'Unusual that Paul isn't at breakfast,' she remarked later. 'He's
normally an early riser. I wonder if he's feeling well?'
'Probably just slept in. I'm sure he's fine.'
'Yes, he looked great yesterday.' She consulted our itinerary.'Are you
going on this morning's tour?'
'Definitely.'
Before we boarded the Zodiac, Luise worried. 'Paul better put on his
skates if he's coming. Perhaps you should knock on his door. Make sure
he's O.K.'
'You worry too much,' I said airily. 'He'll come when it suits him.'
