Mixed News - Monday 16 Feb.

The news I have today is mixed, but let’s begin with the positive. It rained here pretty steadily - ironically in the heaviest rain we’ve had since before Christmas - last Wednesday night and most of the day Thursday, and as such, the threat here has passed. My former boss is no longer missing. He’s alive with only his car (well, one of them) and a few changes of clothes.

A week ago I was preparing myself for no fewer than six funerals. I am ‘pleased’ to report that number has now halved, at least for the time being.

Now to some other news. Arson has been confirmed in the local fires (subsequent to which, an arrest has been made) and is suspected in the Marysville complex. Forensic chemists are as yet unable to investigate. And the Kinglake complex looks to have been an accident: powerlines over Mt Disappointment sheared off in the wind and sparked.

I won’t elaborate publicly on the arrest made here last Thursday. He's been charged with three offences (to date), was remanded into protective custody and transported back to Melbourne for his own safety. He’s facing court right now.

I’m quite fatigued by it all, now. It’s been unmitigated for nine days now and I am oh so very tired. I have to ask for complete strangers to PLEASE refrain from inundating me with PMs. If you want to help, donate to the Red Cross www.redcross.org.au, they have a secure online donation form.

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I crept in the back door on Friday night, in spite of being rostered off. It’s been a lonesome week. I have felt quite detached. I was yearning for some normalcy. Friday night. Its sights, sounds and smells. Amid the cacophony of sirens, the crackling of wood as it blazes, tears, sobs, anguished cries and the clamour of journalists as they mill about asking me for responses to questions I cannot or should not answer, I needed to be around people.


I kissed Jess the second she spotted me and wished her a happy twenty-first birthday, for what it was worth. A few of the regulars acknowledged me with a silent nod or a wink as I loitered in the threshold. I couldn’t help watching Rachel man the taps and smile. Last Friday evening suddenly feels like an age ago.

After a week where I dashed off and eloped with my coffee cup (and not for the first time) I am looking forward to being reunited with my three of my great loves: Rachel, my collection of Scotch whisky and my own pillow. And in that order. Jess’ hand brushed at Rachel’s hip before a finger gestured in my direction. She strode over purposefully before squeezing me a little too tightly. Her lips, full and sweet, delayed their leaving mine. Her fine hands on my hips, a thumb tucked into my belt. Her voice a low, husky whisper addressed me by my full name.

“No ‘rules’ tonight. You’ve earned every drink bought for you.” She petted my chest as she made to turn away, but she lingered. She’s never done that before. “Are you right here for a little while?”

“Yeah.”

John waved his empty glass at me with an impish smile. I took another pot from the tray and poured him a fresh one ... He took $9 out of his pocket, put $4 on the bar and gave me five.

"<Insert boss' name>?"

"OK. Got out with the 5-series and some clothes."

John nodded, suggesting he was pleased, but I could see his face beginning to twist into a grimace. "So - "

"The Morgan, Rolls and the 928 all gone."

He recoiled in pain, inhaling sharply.

I hadn't the heart to tell him of the $800 bottle of Scotch I bought with a handful of mates when we all graduated as a tontine.

To be continued .....

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