good vs evil

Friday Crime–The Culvert (26)

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The Trouble with Dee

Monday, May 3, 2022
12:30pm
Adelaide Police HQ

Dee

Dee’s eyes crinkled as she chuckled under her mask. She slipped it to her chin and pecked at her chicken salad with croutons from the local supermarket. She had been tempted to treat herself to donuts (gluten and dairy free) from the market but resisted the urge. Must watch her weight; don’t want to end up like her high school nemesis Lillie. Boy, had she let herself go! Can’t understand how that husband of hers, Jimmy still fawns after her. Like a puppy dog, he was. Pity that enquiry went nowhere.

‘Anyway, got the Renard,’ she purred, then sipped her cappuccino. ‘By the way, Dan, there’s this no-fuss café near the bus stop that does the best. And so friendly. You should treat yourself.’

*[Photo 1: Donuts © L.M. Kling 2025]


‘Might do.’ Dan sniffed. ‘So, what happened?’

‘As you know, I had that interview with Francis Renard. You know, the Milo accident investigation?’

Dan nodded and cleared his throat.

‘You, okay?’

‘Yeah, fine. Just an allergy.’

‘Yeah, well,’ Dee replaced her mask and continued, ‘I followed up on Renard’s alibi. Says he was at a party the night in question. Now, I’ve got a feeling, just a hunch, mind you, that he’s not telling the truth.’

‘You have evidence?’

‘Not yet, but I’m working on it.’ Dee flicked through some files on the case which she had opened on her computer screen. ‘Did I mention I knew Lillie back then at high school? And Milo. What a sad character he was. So…so…thick. Kept hanging around us, wanting to be friends. Remember that?’

Dan snorted. ‘Frankly, I have no recollection of Milo. Was he in our year?’

‘Nah, should’ve been but had failed…I think he was part of the “special class”,’ Dee said, ‘Strange though, I have this vague memory of him hanging around with Renard and von Erikson. Saw them down at Glenelg in that bowling place.’

‘Bowling?’

‘Yeah, bowling. You know, ten-pin bowling? Remember Bayside Bowls? Opposite Colley Reserve. I used to bowl competition you see, and one day, around the time that Mr. Edwards went missing, there they were. Bowling. Not competition, just down the end having a social game.’

‘Did they look like they were enjoying themselves?’

‘Well, yeah, not actually … I was concentrating on my game.’ Remembering she had been trying to catch Renard’s eye with no success. ‘But I did notice at one stage, there was an almighty thud, then Renard and the von E guy laughing out loud. And I remember at that moment, Milo bawling his eyes out and then stomping out of the centre.’

*[Photo 2: Perhaps, the bowling ball in question; perhaps not © L.M. Kling 2017]


The fact that this Milo character had walked off with the loaned shoes from the Centre, had disturbed Dee at the time, but it was her turn to bowl and her team “Top Spin” were depending on her for a much-awaited win against the opposing team, the “Cool Cats”.

They didn’t. Win, that is.

In her final stride, her focus slipped. To her right Renard hurled a ball at pin-breaking speed down the lane. He literally smashed the pins, leaving a 7—10 split, the tenth pin wobbling and broken. Her effort deviated at the last length to the far left and collected a mere three pins.

‘Interesting,’ Dan said rousing her out of her reverie, ‘follow that up. Perhaps Lillie has some comments about this Milo character that’ll be useful. Would you mind giving her a bell?’

‘No worries,’ Dee said with a smile. She was in a good mood today.

She didn’t mention the second part to her interview with Francis Renard. The somewhat informal part, when, after questioning Renard on his relationship with Lillie, he’d fumbled and bumbled his reply. His face all flushed he’d snapped, “It’s none of your business”, and it was long past by the time they, Dee and him, had hooked up.

Dee smiled again, and whispered, ‘Gotcha, Renard. I know you’re lying and I’m going to do whatever it takes to prove it. What’s more you weren’t at my party. I have that on record in my diary, so there. Gotchya!’

*[Painting photo 3: The kombi — where Renard was the night in question © L.M. Kling 2015]


She then lifted the receiver of the office land line, punched in Lillie Edwards’ mobile phone number and waited for her to answer. She mused how small Adelaide was, particularly in church circles.
The line clicked and a commanding female voice spoke, ‘Good morning, this is Lillie Edwards speaking, how can I help you?’

‘Good afternoon, Ms. Edwards,’ Dee naturally had the overwhelming urge to correct this woman, ‘it’s Detective Dee Berry from the Adelaide Police…’

‘I’m busy, I can’t talk to you at the moment,’ Lillie snapped.

‘Perhaps we could set up a time when we could …’

‘I don’t know, I’m juggling a million and one things—look, haven’t I already spoken to you guys? About that Milo case—I’ve told you everything I know.’

‘About that, I just have a few follow up questions,’ Dee said with a sigh.

‘Look, officer, I really don’t have the time,’ Lillie snipped. ‘I’ve said all I can on the matter, and I feel like I’m being harassed by you guys.’

‘Just half an hour? Could I send you an email with the questions?’

‘No. I know my rights and if you people call me again, I’m going to escalate my complaint that I filed. Got it?’

With a firm clack of the phone call ending, Lillie cut the conversation.

Dee studied her receiver, puzzled. ‘Well, that was a bit of an over-reaction.’

She wondered if Lillie remembered who she was from way back in high school and was taking revenge on her.

Dee shook her head and replaced the receiver in the cradle. ‘Nah, surely not.’

That time she met Lillie in church, while she recognised her, Dee was sure Lillie had a blank look as if she was just another person.

However, the cogs of Dee’s overactive brain began to click over. She remembered Fifi. That girl who trapped Lillie’s brother into marrying her. Pregnant, she was. Sven had to do the right thing, he did. Too young, and the inevitable happened. Separation after a couple of years. Thinking about Fifi, caused Dee to fill with pride. I never tricked a fella into marrying me. Not even Francis Renard, tempting though he was. Come to think of it, marriage and men in general passed her by. Here she was, near sixty and married to her career.

Dee gazed over at her partner in fighting crime, Dan. Not bad shape. Did she have a second chance with him? He’s single, right? Sort of. He did mention a woman called Jemima from time to time. Part indigenous so the rumours said.

She smiled and remembered him saying Jemima was up in Central Australia looking after her elderly mother.

*[Photo 4: Desert Park, Alice Springs © L.M. Kling 2021]

Maybe I have a chance, she thought.

Dan looked up from his desk and waved. ‘How did you go with Ms. Edwards?’

Dee primped her fading strawberry-blonde curls. ‘She got all defensive. I think she’s hiding something, the way she over-reacted.’

Her object of hope didn’t seem fazed. ‘That’s okay. There’s more than one way to skin a cat, so to speak. I think her former sister-in-law, Fifi Edwards might be a bit more amenable. They were best friends in their youth. Lived next door. I’ll send you the number and you can try her.’

‘Right,’ Dee nodded. ‘I’ll get in touch with Fifi, then.’

After all, back then, Dee had lived just around the corner from those two. She had hung out with Fifi when Lillie wasn’t around. They had become particularly close while Lillie was on a working-holiday in Tasmania.

As she picked up the phone handle from its cradle, finger poised to dial, Dan signalled to her. ‘Hold on, Dee, on second thoughts, I’ll make the contact with Fifi.’

‘Why?’

‘I have another matter I need to discuss with her.’

‘What? I can handle it.’

‘I just think it’s better if I maintain contact with her at this time,’ Dan replied while shuffling papers on his desk. ‘I mean, she might get spooked if too many different people see her.’

‘Why? What’s this other issue anyway.’ Dee was most indignant that Dan would take away her opportunity to catch up with her old friend.

‘Remember the body found up Mt. Lofty way?’

‘Yes.’

‘Well, turns out that the boots are Percy Edwards’s. Which means most likely that the body belongs to Percy Edwards. Fifi Edwards’s father has been missing for over four decades.’

‘Fancy that!’ Dee drummed her desk. ‘Just as we start the Milo accident hit and run investigation; Mr. Percy Edwards turns up.’

‘Yeah, I know. Strange how the universe works,’ Dan said.

‘Hmm,’ Dee paused, ‘You don’t think they’re connected?’

‘Could be, Dee.’ Dan leaned back on his seat and twiddled his thumbs. ‘Stranger things have happened.’

Dee jumped up. ‘I’m off for a coffee, you want one?’

*[Photo 5 and feature: Time for Coffee © L.M. Kling 2024]


‘Yeah, why not?’ Dan patted his tummy. ‘And could you get me a couple of those delicious donuts from the market? There’s a good girl.’

Dee pouted under her mask. So, condescending! Oh, well, be kind to the man; I might catch him yet. ‘Yeah, will do, what flavours?’

‘Just cinnamon and sugar. Oh, and a skinny cappuccino while you’re at it.’

‘I’ll be back,’ Dee said and strode out the door. She had Fifi’s number on her mobile phone, so she intended to call her. While I’m out getting coffee and donuts, I’ll have conversation with my old friend Fifi, off the record, she mused.

© Tessa Trudinger 2025

***

Sometimes characters spring from real life,
Sometimes real life is stranger than fiction.
Sometimes real life is just real life.
Check out my travel memoirs,
And escape in time and space
To Central Australia.


Click on the links:

The T-Team with Mr. B: Central Australian Safari 1977


Trekking with the T-Team: Central Australian Safari 1981

Or for a greater escape into another world…
Check out my Sci-fi/ dystopian novel,
And click on the link:


The Lost World of the Wends

Friday Crime–The Culvert (25)

/ lmkling / Leave a comment

[Oops! I made a bit of a blue last time when sharing a chapter of The Culvert. A repeat of a previous chapter under the guise of a different chapter heading. How did that happen? It’s a mystery…No, actually, I confess, the chapter repeated itself in the manuscript. All fixed, so here’s the real, fair dinkum “Fallout” Chapter.]

Fallout

Norwood
Saturday, May 1, 2022
5 to 10:00pm

El


El gleaned from the afternoon that currently had turned into dinner and an excursion to an exclusive club restaurant in Kingswood, seated by an open fireplace, red wine in hand, that Lillie had loved her father. To her he was a kind man but had trouble holding down a job. She reckoned he deserted the family because he was ashamed that he couldn’t provide for them.

‘Just before he disappeared,’ Lillie said, showing an antique gold watch, ‘he received this watch and he said, “I’ve lost my job, and this watch is all I have to show for it.”’

‘Can I have a look?’ El asked.

Lillie took the watch from her wrist and handed it to El who studied it, turning it over in her hand. She recalled the watch Zoe was holding the other day after the discovery at Mt. Lofty.

*[Photo 1 and feature: The gold watch © L.M. Kling 2024]

An inscription on the back of the watch read: In appreciation. P.E.

For what? El wondered and said, ‘Interesting. Nice watch. Would be worth a few bob, I’d imagine.’

Lillie shrugged. ‘Yeah, it’s gold.’

‘Golden handshake, I guess,’ El remarked. Then without thinking glanced at Jimmy and asked, ‘Who’s P.E.?’ Lillie had consumed a few glasses of some red wine by then. Lillie’s choice. Madam being a connoisseur of red wine. She particularly recommended drops from the Clare Valley.

Jimmy squirmed in his seat, and mumbled, ‘My dad. His boss.’

‘Golden handshake?’ El said.

‘Hard times, had to lay off people,’ Lillie jumped in and with an edge to her voice. ‘Nothing personal, he reckoned. It broke him, though.’ She then gulped down her glass of red and poured another.

‘Is that why he left?’ El said.

‘You betchya!’ Lillie said followed by another skull of wine. She started to pour more Clare red into her glass.

Jimmy placed hand over the glass. ‘I think that’s enough, dear.’

‘Oh,’ Lillie glared at her husband, ‘I’ve only started, dear.’ She nudged his hand out of the way and completed the task of filling her glass. Then she offered the remainder of the bottle to El. ‘Want one?’

‘Why not?’ El replied. She shouldn’t, she knew she shouldn’t, but with this woman of status and force, resistance seemed pointless.

She watched Lillie fill her glass. I’ll just sip, she thought.

*[Photo 2: Enjoying a wine © L.M. Kling 2023]



Lillie, now slurring her words and swaying, launched into a diatribe; wrongs done to her and her hard life. Her mother, once Dad had gone, worked two jobs to send her to college. But poor Lillie suffered bullying from the rich kids. Did she mention her nemesis? Dee. Dee Berry. Oh, how she hated that Queen of bitches.

Jimmy nodded. ‘Oh, yes, Dee. Oh, my goodness!’ He turned to Lillie and gestured. ‘Tell her about the time she beat you up in the woodwork room.’

El covered her mouth as she tried her best to hide the smirk forming on her mouth. ‘Dee Berry? You went to school with Dee?’

‘Yeah, piece of work she was. Had it in for me from the moment we met eyes back in Year 8. We both liked the same guy—Danny. Danny Hooper.’

A snort escaped from El. Dan? That’s one for the books.

‘Did you know her?’ Jimmy asked.

El in a moment of awareness, cleared her throat. Don’t mention her association with the police force. ‘Ah, small world. Adelaide, you know.’

Jimmy narrowed his eyes at El. ‘What sort of work did you say you did?’

Ah, trick question. ‘Public service in human resources and management,’ El was quick to reply. She’d added the “resources” to give some distance to the management (aka policing part). Now to distract him. She took a sip of wine, then said, ‘Speaking of your father, what ever happened to him?’

Jimmy blanched and turned away. ‘I’d rather not talk about it.’

El bit her lip. ‘Oh, I’m sorry.’ From what she had gleaned from Dan’s notes, Percy Edwards was himself a piece of work. ‘I understand.’ She decided not to mention the body in the freezer, even though she knew Percy was most likely the body they’d discovered under the culvert bridge on route up Mt. Lofty. She figured by this time, Dan or Dee had informed Jimmy of the discovery.

Meanwhile, Lillie was on a roll with the alcohol. She poured another drink, lost count of how many, and drawled, ‘Oh, my, Dee hasn’t changed. She’s plaguing me again. What is it with that woman?’

‘Yeah, no stopping that woman.’ Jimmy bobbed his head up and down. ‘She’s a copper now.’

‘Suits her, but why does she have to drag up the past and bother me?’

‘Why?’ El asked. ‘What’s she done?’

‘Aw, my brother hit a kangaroo way back in 1981, and now they think he’s killed somebody,’ Lillie said. ‘Hell, who do they think they are? Sven wouldn’t hurt a fly.’

*[Photo 3: This Kangaroo was not harmed in this episode © L.M. Kling 2021]

Jimmy patted his wife on the hand. ‘They’re just doing their job, Honey.’

‘Yeah but takes Dee to start bugging me again.’ A cloud fell over Lillie’s expression. ‘I tell you, if that Constable Berry calls me again, I’m going to sue for harassment.’

From there the conversation meandered from current trends in politics, bitcoin (and the Edwards’ massive profits) to conspiracy theories and Lillie’s passion for pro-life. No mention of her early travels to Tasmania and adopting out her baby there.

She smiled and considered the extended time with the couple, a most productive time. She checked her watch. My goodness! 10pm!

Lillie slapped her on the back. A friendly pat that with her level of inebriation had been a slap rather than a pat. ‘I really l-l-like you, El. I feel l-l-like I’ve known you forever.’

‘Yeah, likewise,’ El replied. She realised that, although she’d warned Francis she’d be out on reconnaissance with team Edwards this night, he’d be starting to get worried. She also realised she, herself had too much to drink to drive home.

El glanced at her phone to phone for a taxi.

‘Hey, El, dear, come tomorrow and we’ll get some serious painting done.’

El nodded. ‘Sounds like a plan, but um, I need to…’

Her phone pinged. A message from Francis. Where are you?

At the “Fireside” in Kingswood. Pick me up? Over the limit. El returned.

Francis: Ok, be there soon.

El assumed that Francis would text her from the car when he arrived, and she would make her escape. She would learn never to make assumptions.

*[Photo 4: Time is ticking, German Cake Shop Hahndorf © L.M. Kling 2023]


Twenty minutes later, with Lillie praising the glory of not-so-local celebrity politician, Ivan T Rumf, a slim blonde in a grey jogging suit, stepped through entrance door to the lounge.

Jimmy jumped up. ‘Zoe! Fancy meeting you here.’

Lillie continued extolling the wonders of Ivan T Rumf’s financial wizardry. Barely noticed Zoe’s presence, until…

Zoe refused the offer to join them for a glass of the good stuff and being converted to the cult of Ivan T Rumf. El assessed from Zoe’s sour expression as she waited, that she was not a fan of the money mogul.

That sour expression and lack of enthusiasm for Lillie’s current pet topic, got Lillie’s attention. She looked Zoe up and down. And narrowed her eyes. She rose with hands on hips and snapped, ‘Who do you think you are, Madam?’

Zoe stepped back and holding up her hand, tried to diffuse the situation. ‘I’m sorry, I’ve just come to collect my friend.’

‘Come now, Honey, it’s okay to have a different opinion.’ Jimmy tapped Lillie’s knee. Then to El and Zoe, ‘It’s the alcohol talking; she won’t remember a thing in the morning.’

Zoe and El glanced at each other. El rose, shrugged on her coat, lifted her handbag, and prepared to leave.

‘Hey, El, my friend, what do you think?’ Lillie tugged El’s coat sleeve.

Jimmy leaned back and smiled. ‘Hey, you know, just looking at you two. I mean, Zoe my Tassie friend, and Lillie, and I could swear you two are sisters.’

To say Lillie made a scene would be a gross understatement. Foot stamping. Fury flying. Abuse hurling. Colourful language not befitting of a prestigious college principal.


After making a hasty retreat out the establishment and into Renard’s car, El said breathlessly, ‘Sorry about that.’

‘What happened?’ Francis Renard asked.

‘She-she exploded,’ Zoe said. ‘What was all that about?’

‘Well, I’m glad I didn’t go in,’ Renard said. ‘How embarrassing for you.’

El sighed. ‘I think we have our answer, amongst other things.’

‘What do you mean?’ Zoe said.

‘If there’s any doubt, her over-reaction said it all,’ El replied.

Zoe scratched her forehead. ‘I don’t get it. You’re speaking in riddles.’

Renard huffed. ‘What the detective is trying to say, is that that crazy woman was your mother. Geez, I never knew she had a crazy side.’

El chuckled, ‘Ah, repression, does that to a person. Comes out sideways.’

‘Her?’ Zoe glanced behind her through the rear car window. ‘That woman who made a scene? Glad she gave me up…I can see the headlines now, “Judge’s birth mother is a nutcase.”’\

El raised her eyebrows. ‘Judge? You want to be a judge?’

‘Why, yeah. It’s all in my five-year plan; I was just taking leave after my mother died.’

*[Photo 5: Brighton Jetty Sunset © L.M. Kling 2025]

On the drive back to Brighton, Francis Renard sat in the driver’s seat, tall, his chest puffed out. A grin split his face, and he said, ‘My daughter, a judge. My daughter a judge.’

And El contemplated. Perhaps I could return to work as a detective. Despite the fallout, she had enjoyed her foray into covert investigation. For her, Lillie’s outburst had been the highlight.

However, she was a tad concerned how she’d manage retrieving her car from the Norwood address the next day.

© Tessa Trudinger 2025
*Feature Photo: The gold antique watch © L.M. Kling 2024

Sometimes characters spring from real life,
Sometimes real life is stranger than fiction.
Sometimes real life is just real life.
Check out my travel memoirs,
And escape in time and space
To Central Australia.

Click on the links:

The T-Team with Mr. B: Central Australian Safari 1977


Trekking with the T-Team: Central Australian Safari 1981

Or for a greater escape into another world…
Check out my Sci-fi/ dystopian novel,
And click on the link:


The Lost World of the Wends

Friday Crime–The Culvert (24a)

/ lmkling / Leave a comment

Fallout

Norwood
Saturday, May 1, 2022
1:00 to 10:00pm

El

When the football hammered on her favourite station, El switched to her USB drive and cheerful strains of Vivaldi swung into action. Nothing like this energetic Italian composer to get El into the mood for painting. Today, Lillie Edwards awaited another Saturday portraiture session.

El sighed as she replayed a rather awkward conversation with Dan. He so much wanted her to return to the force. El had put off the inevitable as long as possible. The longer she was away from the pressure of policing, the longer she enjoyed the luxury of sleeping in, and spending each day as she pleased, the less she was inclined to return to the drudgery of work. After all, she loved painting. Why spend days, weeks, months years behind a desk drowning in paperwork? Why waste time running multiple steps behind chasing criminals? Then, why spend all her hours again behind a desk researching, building up a case, just to watch the guilty slip through her virtual fingertips when at court, a clever defence lawyer convinces a jury to find them innocent?

With painting, she witnessed pleasant results in a few hours of dibbing and daubing while listening to her favourite podcast. Admittedly, lately, a certain crime story podcast was her go to of the month. Somehow, listening to crime stories proved more therapeutic than being involved in actual crime solving. Or so she told herself…

*[Painting 1: Somerton Beach Sunset (watercolour) © L.M. Kling 2017]

‘Would you consider returning to the force, El?’ Dan asked, desperation in his voice. ‘There’s nothing to stop you, now.’

‘I’ll think about it, and get back to you,’ El replied. The thought of returning to work, fighting the peak hour morning traffic, battling to find a park, and the daily grind of managing unruly people, set El’s teeth on edge.

That conversation happened on Tuesday.

Friday, Dan called again. He had asked, what was her decision.

While gazing out at the rolling waves from her wall to ceiling window, and still dressed in her dressing gown, El said, ‘I’m sorry, Dan, I’m not ready to come back.’

‘But why?’

‘I need more time.’ Just couldn’t break it to him that she really didn’t feel like ever returning. ‘The stress of the last couple of years has taken its toll.’

‘Oh, please reconsider, El.’ Dan’s voice softened to a whisper. ‘Just between you and me, Dee is driving me crazy. With her bean-counting.’

‘And her paranoia, no doubt.’ El snipped. ‘Look, it’s people like her that make the job an issue for me.’

‘But what about the challenge, the thrill of solving a case?’

‘Hmm, only to see it all fall apart and dissolve in court. And people like Dee who with their darn bean counting miss the whole point and give the defence lawyers a win on a silver platter.’ El shook her head. ‘Nah, I’m done.’

‘What? I thought you said you just needed more time.’ Dan sounded hurt.

‘Oh, I mean, for now. But if I decide not to return, I may still consider being a private detective. Be my own boss and bypass Dee and her cronies.’

‘Oh…but…’

‘Face it, Dan, I’ve had it up to here with the government and how they’ve treated us.’

‘But we need more…’ Dan sounded sad.

‘I know.’ El shifted in her seat on the lounge chair. Guilty. ‘Downward spiral. Less workers. More work for those left. Crime goes up. But-er-I’m pretty fragile at the moment. I can’t take the pressure.’

Renard chuckled in the background. ‘Can’t blame ya, they have treated public servants poorly. I’d quit too, if I was you.’

El turned and glared at Renard who pretended to concentrate on the newspaper crossword. She placed her finger on her mouth. ‘Shh!’

‘And you think I don’t have problems, El?’ Dan snapped. ‘You know, I’d much rather be an outback cop, on the coalface, than having to put up with all this cr—I mean politics here in the city. I mean, with all the demands put on me, I don’t have a life. It’s just work, and sleep. Hell, and then I can’t sleep because this cold case has got under my skin.’

*[Painting 2: Mt. Giles Through Ormiston Gorge (acrylic) © L.M. Kling 2016]

‘Is it personal, Dan?’

‘Hell, yeah, it’s personal.’ Dan’s tone had a sense of urgency. ‘I mean, I remember Jimmy and Lillie Edwards from youth group. I remember when Lillie’s father Jan disappeared. And then, a year later, Percy, Jimmy’s father vanished. So strange. So strange.’

‘Perhaps, then, you are too involved,’ El said with a sniff, ‘you need to step back from it. perspective, remember. After all, just a thought, who says they didn’t run off together?’

‘Yeah, yeah, but something about the whole case doesn’t sit right. I can’t rest until I…’

‘Sounds like a rabbit hole, Dan.’

‘Well, let’s just say, Dee’s already dived in and buried herself in it. And so, I have to go along and pull her out.’ Heavy breathing. ‘That’s why I wanted you to consider coming back. Helping. I mean, you came to me with the cold case. You asked me. The least you could do is…’

‘I know. I know. I regret that. Moment of weakness.’ El clenched her fists. Be strong. Resist temptation. ‘Sorry, Dan, no can do. I’ve reconsidered and I’ve got to put my mental health first, or I’ll be no use to anyone.’

‘Not even now we’ve found a body?’ Dan urged. ‘Not even a little bit curious?’

‘No, Dan.’

‘Please, can’t you just find some time to do some digging. In an unofficial capacity, perhaps? Please?’

Renard swayed his head while filling in a crossword clue. ‘He’s desperate.’

‘You know that’s not…’

‘If you could just…I mean, I have a family…I’m so busy, Leo, my son has gone rogue. I think he has a girlfriend but…I don’t know where he is half the time. And I haven’t seen my girlfriend Jemima and our daughter Bella in weeks.’

El sighed. Nothing like a guilt trip to make her give in. ‘Alright, I’ll see what I can…’

‘Thank you! Thank you! I’ll send the details of discovery your way. Thank you.’

*[Painting 3 and Feature: Desert Park, Alice Springs (pastel) © L.M. Kling 2025]

El pulled up in the wide driveway of the Edwards’ mansion. Just what she didn’t need, another hidden agenda behind the portrait session in honour of Lillie Edwards. Somehow, she envisioned the rabbit hole of the Edwards-Von Erikson cold case drawing her into its vortex too.

She giggled. Perhaps there was something in that idea that Percy and Jan had run off together. Then again, perhaps things turned sour, and Jan, in disguise, had given Percy the “heave-ho”. A variation on that famous cold case back in the ‘70’s of the body in the freezer.

El smiled and nodded while alighting from the car. Yes, she might start with that story and see if she sensed a reaction from Lillie.

Lillie, wearing a flowing, rainbow-coloured poncho, welcomed El into her mansion.

‘Sorry about the clutter, El,’ Lillie waved a hand at the stacks of books and piles of papers, tableaus ready to dance on what was intended to be a ballroom floor. ‘Every holidays, I intend to tackle that lot, but…’
While skirting the newspaper piles at the edge of the open hallway, Lillie led El to the spare bedroom come art studio. Freshly brewed coffee percolated its aroma, filling the room. Lillie glided over to the table holding the coffee and a silver standing tray with a pyramid of cupcakes laden with icing. El mused, pink icing with cupcake. Would she scrape off the icing and eat the cake? Risk offending her portrait muse and host who had gone to all that trouble, slaving the whole morning buying those cupcakes from the local bakery?

‘Coffee? Cupcake?’ Lillie’s shrill voice shook El out of her sugar-frosted nightmare.

El politely smiled and said, ‘I’ll have some coffee, but, um, I’ll need to pass on the cake. My sugar levels were a bit up, so I need to…’

‘But they are gluten-free.’

Before El could make another lame excuse, a cake appeared on a Noritake plate graced with delicate grey leaves and accompanied by a matching cup and saucer filled with coffee and cream.

‘I thought we could have some afternoon tea before you get down to painting,’ Lillie said while biting into her icing with cupcake. Gluten-free. ‘I’m sure that’s how that famous artist on the ABC does it.’

‘Get to know the subject—I mean, person he’s painting, you mean?’ El said, then sipped her coffee. ‘So, in that vein, let me ask about your childhood. Where did you grow up?’

*[Painting 4: One Day in the Barossa (acrylic) © L.M. Kling 2018]

From that question, more followed with the answers. No painting that afternoon, only more coffee, more cake, then biscuits which were brought in by Lillie’s husband, Jimmy—interesting—and finally, to keep the conversation flowing, some white wine, a Moscato, from MacLaren Vale. By the time the wine appeared, Jimmy had joined the party and El mused that this was the most successful informal interview she’d ever performed.


© Lee-Anne Marie Kling 2025

***

Sometimes characters spring from real life,
Sometimes real life is stranger than fiction.
Sometimes real life is just real life.
Check out my travel memoirs,
And escape in time and space
To Central Australia.

Click on the links:


The T-Team with Mr. B: Central Australian Safari 1977


Trekking with the T-Team: Central Australian Safari 1981

Or for a greater escape into another world…
Check out my Sci-fi/ dystopian novel,


And click on the link:


The Lost World of the Wends

Fifth Friday Flashback

/ lmkling / Leave a comment

School’s back this week. And all the parents of school-aged children breathe a sigh of relief as their little and not-so-little treasures return to the classroom. So glad that for me, that season has passed.

Even so, a fitting tribute to the time I once was a teacher…

School Daze: Teacher Training

Feature Photo: Classroom, Hermannsburg © C.D. Trudinger circa 1955

Friday Crime–The Culvert 23b

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The Boy Next Door

Lillie

My first memory of the verboten was the kitchen floor. Every Saturday afternoon, the kitchen floor took on the status of holy floor. Floor that has been washed with the sacred waters of floor cleaner and left untrodden to dry.

‘Don’t walk over the floor!’ Mum would yell after she had cleansed the linoleum floor. I looked with longing at the floor red with the gold and silver flecks in it. Inevitably I committed the sin of trespass on the holy floor of the kitchen and tracked a trail of my tell-tale footprints.

‘I told you not to walk on the floor!’ Mum would growl and smack me on the bottom.
But I had a good reason to walk on the sacred wet linoleum. It’s because Mum would excommunicate me into the backyard of boredom, so that she could get the cleaning done. And it’s because after she had shrouded the floor with water and soap, I would have to pee. The only way to the toilet of relief, was through the kitchen over the sacred floor.

[Photo 1: One solution; toilets in the backyard repurposed © L.M. Kling 2020]

As I grew up, the kitchen was barricaded during floor-cleaning sessions. Out of desperation, curiosity and loneliness in the backyard on Saturday afternoons, I became acquainted with the family next door. More particularly, the verboten made a gradual shift from kitchen floor to the boy and girl next door. I mean, really, Mum with her sacred floor business, brought the grief upon herself. If she had washed the floor during the week and not made such an issue of it on Saturday afternoons, I may never ventured next door. Their loo was available because their Mum washed the floor during the week, if she washed the floor at all under all the rubble of clothing from a large and uncontrollable rabble of children.

Jimmy proved attractive to me because of my parent’s opposition. Fifi, his sister, Jimmy and I were childhood friends. According to my parents, especially Mum, they were not good enough. I was told not to play with them. So, play with Fifi and Jimmy I did, and their multitude of brothers and sisters. We would romp through the jungle of their backyard of unmown lawn. The weeds were as high as us children. The family were working class and faking their Christian faith, my father would say. He still accepted a position at Mr. Edwards’s factory, but…And later, once Dad was gone, she was only too happy to accept Percy Edwards’s help.

My mother had her eye on the well-to do family, the Hoopers, around the corner whose two sons were progressing towards careers into law and medicine.

Mum would say, “The kids next door will never amount to anything.”

When Jimmy took me for a dinky ride on his bike and we returned home after dark, I was grounded. I hated being grounded. By the end of the week, I vowed not to play with Jimmy again. He was a bad influence. However, Saturday and the sacred floor rolled around again, and so did Jimmy on his Dragstar bike.

[Photo 2: Riding at sunset in Darlington © L.M. Kling 1998]

‘Come on! No one’s goin’ to know! Just one ride!’ he said.

The sun shone, the sky blue and my parents were out. We were off, pedalling down the gravel driveway where we nearly collided with my returning parents in their FJ Holden.

I had a choice, I could suffer another week’s grounding or have the indignity of a smack of the ruler across my hand. I took the ruler option and learnt to be more devious in the future. There are many ways to cross a wet kitchen floor without being caught. There were means and ways of continuing my friendship with Jimmy and Fifi without catching the ire of my parents. But then after their father deserted them, the enormous family moved.

I wonder what ever happened to that man.

Perhaps life would have been different if he’d hung around. Not that they missed old Mr. Edwards. Life seemed to improve for Jimmy and his family after he’d gone.

And despite, or should I say, in spite of my mother’s protestations, I ended up marrying Jimmy Edwards. I guess in my mother’s estimation, Jimmy being a musician didn’t amount to much, but me, I’m successful. Principal of a prestigious school, how good is that.

Shame mum’s not around to see that. Although, she would definitely be turning in her grave if she knew I’m still married Jim.

Now, those Hooper boys from around the corner…one of them was Dan, I remember. I wonder what happened to him. Did he become the lawyer my mother always said he was going to grow up to be?

[Photo 3: Sparkling, anyone? © L.M. Kling 2023]

El

El paused; painting brush poised in above the canvas. ‘Oh, Dan? Dan Hooper?’

Lillie raised an eyebrow. ‘You know him?’

El cleared her throat. Better not say too much or she’ll start to suspect. Change the subject. ‘Actually, I knew his brother, Al.’

‘Oh, yes, Al, the younger one. Bit weedy and pimply as I remember. So, did he become a doctor?’

El nodded. ‘He did…a psychiatrist, I think. But it was a long time ago and I think he had some crisis in his life and had a career change.’

Lillie snorted. ‘A mid-life crisis?’

‘You could say that.’

‘So, what career did he change to?’

‘Um…’ El bit her lip and dabbed the nose of Lillie’s painted image. ‘Teaching, I think.’
‘Haven’t heard of any Al Hooper in my domain.’

El smudged Lillie’s painted mouth. Oops! ‘I think he didn’t stay that long in teaching before he went into working for the secret service, ASIO, or something like that…’ El mumbled.

‘I’ll have to look him up,’ Lillie said breezily.

‘Good luck,’ El muttered.

‘What did you say?’

‘Nothing, but, um, I don’t think he’s got a digital profile, being in the secret service or whatever it is.’
‘Oh, you really don’t know; do you dear?’

El shrugged and wiped her mistake with her thumb. ‘So, tell me more about this Old Mr. Edwards. What was he like?’

At that moment, Jimmy reappeared in the studio. He held a tray with three flutes of sparkling wine.

‘Sparkling, anyone?’ he said.

© Tessa Trudinger 2025
*Feature Photo: Backyard © L.M. Kling 2021

***

Sometimes characters spring from real life,
Sometimes real life is stranger than fiction.
Sometimes real life is just real life.
Check out my travel memoirs,
And escape in time and space
To Central Australia.


Click on the links:


The T-Team with Mr. B: Central Australian Safari 1977


Trekking with the T-Team: Central Australian Safari 1981

Or for a greater escape into another world…
Check out my Sci-fi/ dystopian novel,


And click on the link:


The Lost World of the Wends

Friday Crime–The Culvert (23a)

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Cupcakes

Norwood
Saturday, May 1, 2022
1:00 to 5:00pm

El

When the football hammered on her favourite station, El switched to her USB drive and cheerful strains of Vivaldi swung into action. Nothing like this energetic Italian composer to get El into the mood of painting. Today, Lillie Edwards awaited another Saturday portraiture session.

El sighed as she replayed an awkward conversation with Dan. He so much wanted her to return to the force. El had put off the inevitable as long as possible. The longer she was away from the pressure of policing, the more she enjoyed the luxury of sleeping in, and spending each day as she pleased, the less she was inclined to return to the drudgery of work. She loved painting. Why spend days, weeks, months years behind a desk drowning in paperwork? Why waste time running multiple steps behind chasing criminals? Then, why spend all her hours again behind a desk researching, building up a case, just to watch the guilty slip through her virtual fingertips when at court, a clever defense lawyer convinces a jury to find them innocent?

With painting, she witnessed pleasant results in a few hours of dibbing and daubing while listening to her favourite podcast. Admittedly, lately, a certain crime story podcast was her go to of the month. Somehow, listening to crime stories proved more therapeutic than being involved in actual crime solving. Or so she told herself…

‘Would you consider returning to the force, El?’ Dan asked, desperation in his voice. ‘There’s nothing to stop you, now.’

‘I’ll think about it, and get back to you,’ El replied. The thought of returning to work, fighting the peak hour morning traffic, battling to find a park, and the daily grind of managing unruly people, set El’s teeth on edge.


That conversation happened on Tuesday.

Friday, Dan called again. He had asked, what was her decision.

[Photo 1: Beach view and sailing boats Somerton Beach © L.M. Kling 2025]


While gazing out at the rolling waves from her floor to ceiling window, and still dressed in her dressing gown, El said, ‘I’m sorry, Dan, I’m not ready to come back.’

‘But why?’

‘I need more time.’ Just couldn’t break it to him that she really didn’t feel like ever returning. ‘The stress of the last couple of years has taken its toll.’

‘Oh, please reconsider, El.’ Dan’s voice softened to a whisper. ‘Just between you and me, Dee is driving me crazy. With her bean-counting.’

‘And her paranoia, no doubt.’ El snipped. ‘Look, it’s people like her that make the job an issue for me.’
‘But what about the challenge, the thrill of solving a case?’

‘Hmm, only to see it all fall apart and dissolve in court. And people like Dee who with their darn bean counting miss the whole point and give the defense lawyers a win on a silver platter.’ El shook her head.

‘Nah, I’m done.’

‘What? I thought you said you just needed more time.’ Dan sounded hurt.

‘Oh, I mean, for now. But if I decide not to return, I may still consider being a private detective. Be my own boss and bypass Dee and her cronies.’

‘Oh…but…’

‘Face it, Dan, I’ve had it up to here with the government and how they’ve treated us.’

‘But we need more…’ Dan sounded sad.

‘I know.’ El shifted in her seat on the lounge chair. Guilty. ‘Downward spiral. Less workers. More work for those left. Crime goes up. But-er-I’m pretty fragile at the moment. I can’t take the pressure.’

Renard chuckled in the background. ‘Can’t blame ya; they have treated public servants poorly. I’d quit too if I was you.’

El turned and glared at Renard who pretended to concentrate on the Advertiser crossword. She placed her finger on her mouth. ‘Shh!’

‘And you think I don’t have problems, El?’ Dan snapped. ‘You know, I’d much rather be an outback cop, on the coalface, than having to put up with all this cr—I mean politics here in the city. I mean, with all the demands put on me, I don’t have a life. It’s just work, and sleep. Hell, and then I can’t sleep because this cold case has got under my skin.’

‘Is it personal, Dan?’

‘Hell, yeah, it’s personal.’ Dan’s tone had a sense of urgency. ‘I mean, I remember Jimmy and Lillie Edwards from youth group. I remember when Lillie’s father Jan disappeared. And then, a year later, Percy, Jimmy’s father vanished. So strange. So strange.’

‘Perhaps, then, you are too involved,’ El said with a sniff, ‘you need to step back from it. perspective, remember. Just a thought, who says they didn’t run off together?’

‘Yeah, yeah, but something about the whole case doesn’t sit right. I can’t rest until I…’

‘Sounds like a rabbit hole, Dan.’

‘Well, let’s just say, Dee’s already dived in and buried herself in it. And so, I must go along and pull her out.’ Heavy breathing. ‘That’s why I wanted you to consider coming back. Helping. I mean, you came to me with the cold case. You asked me. The least you could do is…’

‘I know. I know. I regret that. Moment of weakness.’ El clenched her fists. Be strong. Resist temptation. ‘Sorry, Dan, no can do. I’ve reconsidered and I’ve got to put my mental health first, or I’ll be no use to anyone.’

‘Not even now we’ve found a body?’ Dan urged. ‘Not even a little bit curious?’

‘No, Dan.’

‘Please, can’t you just find time to do some digging. In an unofficial capacity, perhaps? Please?’
Renard swayed his head while filling in a crossword clue. ‘He’s desperate.’

‘You know that’s not…’

‘If you could just…I mean, I have a family…I’m so busy, Leo, my son has gone rogue. I think he has a girlfriend but…I don’t know where he is half the time. And I haven’t seen my girlfriend Jemima and our daughter Bella in weeks.’

El sighed. Nothing like a guilt trip to make her give in. ‘Alright, I’ll see what I can…’

‘Thank you! Thank you! I’ll send the details of discovery your way. Thank you.’

*[Photo 2: Another kind of portrait session, at Marion Art Group © L.M. Kling 2024]

El pulled up in the wide driveway of the Edwards’ mansion. Just what she didn’t need, another hidden agenda behind the portrait session in honour of Lillie Edwards. Somehow, she envisioned the rabbit hole of the Edwards-von Erikson cold case drawing her into its vortex too.

She giggled. There was something in that idea that Percy and Jan had run off together. Then again, perhaps things turned sour, and Jan had given Percy the “heave-ho”. A variation on that famous cold case back in the ‘70’s of the body in the freezer.

El smiled and nodded while alighting from the car. Yes, she might start with that story and see if she sensed a reaction from Lillie.

Lillie, wearing a flowing, rainbow-coloured poncho, welcomed El into her mansion.

‘Sorry about the clutter, El,’ Lillie waved a hand at the stacks of books and piles of papers, tableaus ready to dance on what was intended to be the dining room table and floor. ‘Every holiday, I intend to tackle that lot, but…’

While skirting the newspaper piles at the edge of the open hallway, Lillie led El to the spare bedroom come art studio. Freshly brewed coffee percolated its aroma, filling the room. Lillie glided over to the table holding the coffee and a silver standing tray with a pyramid of cupcakes laden with icing. El mused, pink icing with cupcake. Would she scrape off the icing and eat the cake? Risk offending her portrait muse and host who had gone to all that trouble, slaving the whole morning buying those cupcakes from the local bakery?

[Photo 3 and feature: Cupcakes at Tealicious © L.M. Kling 2024]


‘Coffee? Cupcake?’ Lillie’s shrill voice shook El out of her sugar-frosted nightmare.

El bared her teeth in a polite smile and said, ‘I’ll have coffee, but, um, I’ll need to pass on the cake. My sugar levels were a bit up, so I need to…’

‘But they are gluten-free.’

Before El could make another excuse, a cake appeared on a Noritake plate which was graced with delicate grey leaves and accompanied by a matching cup and saucer filled with coffee and cream.

‘I thought we could have some afternoon tea before you get down to painting,’ Lillie said while biting into her icing with cupcake. Gluten-free. ‘I’m sure that’s how that famous artist on the ABC does it.’

‘Get to know the muse—I mean, person he’s painting, you mean?’ El said, then sipped her coffee. ‘So, in that vein, let me ask about your childhood. Where did you grow up?’

From that question, more followed with the answers. No painting that afternoon, only more coffee, more cake, then biscuits which were brought in by Lillie’s husband, Jimmy—interesting—and finally, to keep the conversation flowing, some white wine, a Moscato, from McLaren Vale. By the time the wine appeared, Jimmy had joined the party and El mused that this was the most successful informal interview she’d ever performed.

Something about Jimmy Edwards caused disquiet in El.

However, Lillie’s story about their history—Jimmy the boy next door, allayed El’s concerns…

© Tessa Trudinger 2025

Feature Photo: Cupcakes from Tealicious, Willunga © L.M. Kling 2024

***

Sometimes characters spring from real life,
Sometimes real life is stranger than fiction.
Sometimes real life is just real life.
Check out my travel memoirs,
And escape in time and space
To Central Australia.

Click on the links:


The T-Team with Mr. B: Central Australian Safari 1977


Trekking with the T-Team: Central Australian Safari 1981

Or for a greater escape into another world…
Check out my Sci-fi/ dystopian novel,
And click on the link:


The Lost World of the Wends

Friday Crime–The Culvert (22)

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Choices and Consequences

Brighton Beach
Tuesday April 27, 2022
10am

El

El plodded along the shore towards Seacliff Beach. Dan’s request had been troubling her all morning. ‘Darn! I was just beginning to enjoy my freedom,’ she muttered, ‘and now this.’

The crisp clear morning, blue skies dotted with cottonwool clouds, seagulls wheeling over the aqua waves and the sand crunching beneath her pounding feet, annoyed Eloise Delaney. How could she enjoy this brilliant day if she had to go back to work? Maybe after a few months of leisure she might get bored and want to return to the hamster wheel of police work and no play, but at the moment, she wasn’t bored.

Her phone vibrated in her pocket.

*[Photo 1: Towards Seacliff Beach © L.M. Kling 2017]


El stopped, gazed at the sea, the morning sun sparkling on the waves, dug the device out of her pocket and spoke, ‘Hey there Sven. What’s up?’

‘I was just thinking, why don’t we organise another get together for Zoe and Francis?’

‘Why? Can’t they organise their own social life? They are both adults.’

‘Yeah, but, actually, I was thinking, I could invite Tiffy, my niece to come along.’

‘Tiffy,’ El sniffed, ‘good luck with that.’

‘I dunno, it’s worth a try,’ Sven said, ‘we don’t have to say anything, but we could see if they look alike and have similar…I mean, they’d be half-sisters.’

‘I can’t see it happening. Nah, only way is to get Tiffy to do a DNA test and that’s not going to happen. Besides, won’t Tiffy think it’s a bit strange you wanting her to meet Zoe?’

‘Uh…well…’

‘I mean, from what I understand about Tiffy, is that she rarely turns up to family gatherings. So, how are you going to get her to meet Zoe at say a park or coffee shop? Huh?’

‘Er, um, she does tend to show up if there’s something in it for her,’ Sven replied.

‘So, you reckon, then, that Tiffy might come if you tell her that Zoe is her long-lost sister and that she’s a lawyer?’ El said.

‘Oh, er…she might. That’s a good angle.’

Tramping in like an elephant where mice fear to tread. El shook her head. ‘Could get awkward, Sven. As for your sister, you might be opening a can of worms.’

‘Yeah, but, but the truth must come out. There’s been too many lies and cover ups.’ Sven’s voice raised an octave. ‘Francis, he’s upset. You know that Lillie, my sister, never said anything. Went skulking off to Tasmania and had her baby. Gave her away and came back home. Like nothing happened. Who does that?’

‘Lots of people,’ El said with a sigh. ‘In my line of work, people do things, not very nice things. Darn awful things, actually. You know kill people and bury their bodies and then carry on with life, as if nothing ever happened. Happens more than you think.’

On the other end of the phone a pause. Then, ‘Right, well, I better get going.’ Sven ended the call with a click.

El stared at her mobile phone, confused. Why didn’t he suggest Zoe meeting up with his son? she wondered. If Lillie were Zoe’s mother, they’d be cousins, after all.

*[Painting 1: The Lone Seagull © L.M. Kling 2016]


Adelaide Police HQ
Tuesday April 27, 2022
10am

Dan

Detective Dan Hooper leaned back on his chair and grinned at his Crispy Crème donut. Caramel frosting. Mmm! He deserved it. All that hard work collecting evidence from within the dusty bowels of the station archives and frosty interviews with long-forgotten witnesses had paid off.

The boss had approved the reopening of the cold case; the one involving a certain Mr. Percy Edwards and his partner in some dodgy business, Jan von Erikson. The two “mispas”, had to be related.

Dan nodded and took a bite out of the caramel donut. His sugar levels and cholesterol would have to take a back seat—maybe in Mr. E’s blue Ford Fairmont station wagon—while Dan enjoyed this moment of triumph.

After the second bite, he raised a finger and summoned Dee to his desk.

Dee raced over, police issue I-pad in hand, eyes twinkling above her mask while glancing at the remaining three Crispy Crème donuts waiting in the box to be consumed.


*[Photo 2 and feature: Crispy Crème Donuts © L.M. Kling 2024]

Dan noted that Dee paid particular attention to the strawberry iced donut. He spoke, ‘We have permission to proceed, Dee. The new evidence in this cold case of the missing Edwards and von Erikson case has piqued the chief’s interest.’

‘Well, you did come across that body,’ Dee said glancing at the strawberry donut.
Dan picked up the box and held it towards Dee. ‘Take one.’

‘Aw, I know I shouldn’t,’ Dee’s hand, with a mind of its own pounced on the strawberry frosted donut. ‘But you’ve twisted my arm.’

Dee dropped her mask below her chin and the pink donut disappeared into her small mouth.
‘Your first task, Dee, is to contact a fellow by the name of Jim Edwards.’

‘Jim? Jim Edwards?’ Dee, still wearing her mask as a chin-guard, grinned like the cat that had licked all the cream. ‘He’s married to Lillie. Didn’t you know?’

‘Well, Dee, you really are the source of all gossip and information. I would’ve never…’ Dan sat up and drummed his fingers on the desk. ‘That’s one out of the box. The case has just risen to a whole new level.’
‘If you say so, Dan,’ Dee replied, more interested in the second caramel donut beckoning her from the box.

Dan pushed the donut container towards Dee. ‘Go on, I need to watch my weight.’

Dee didn’t need much persuasion. She plucked up the cake and that vanished in three bites.

Dan picked up the last donut and examined its chocolate icing. ‘Dee, would you contact Jim Edwards and arrange an interview, please?’

Dee stood, strapped the mask back over her mouth, and said, ‘I’m onto it, Dan. I have this feeling in my gutters; there’s more to Lillie Edwards than meets the eye.’

Dan frowned. ‘Try to keep an objective view, Dee.’

‘I will,’ Dee replied and hurried off to her desk.

*[Photo 3: Weight Watchers for my Cat © L.M. Kling (nee Trudinger)circa 1978]

Dan settled his elbows on his own desk, and while savouring the chocolate donut, scrolled through the “millions” of emails that plagued his computer.

One caught his attention. “File of complaint—harassment”. He read further. He hit the desk. ‘The swine!’
‘What?’ Dee called.

‘Lillie, she’s filed a complaint.’

‘See,’ Dee returned, ‘I told you she’s trouble. Like I said about her; you wouldn’t file a complaint unless you had something to hide.’

‘I’m starting to get that same gut feeling, Dee.’ Dan ground his teeth. ‘She’s hiding something. Definitely hiding something.’

‘Told ya, Dan, I’m not Adelaide’s most famous gossip for nothink. I get these guttural feelings and I have ta run with them. You’ll see, I’m right. I’m always right.’

‘We’ll see about that,’ Dan said with a chuckle.

He spent the rest of the morning printing photos of people related to this cold case and sticking them onto a Perspex storyboard.


© Tessa Trudinger 2024
Feature Photo: Crispy Crème Donuts © L.M. Kling 2024

Sometimes characters spring from real life,
Sometimes real life is stranger than fiction.
Sometimes real life is just real life.
Check out my travel memoirs,
And escape in time and space
To Central Australia.


Click on the links:


The T-Team with Mr. B: Central Australian Safari 1977


Trekking with the T-Team: Central Australian Safari 1981

Or for a greater escape into another world…

Check out my Sci-fi/ dystopian novel,
And click on the link:

The Lost World of the Wends

Friday Crime–The Culvert (21)

/ lmkling / Leave a comment

The Boots


Tuesday April 26, 2022
10am

El

Before picking up her phone to arrange another portrait session with Lillie, El, paused. She reflected on the previous day.

*[Photo 1: First Falls Waterfall Gully © L.M. Kling 1996]

After the discovery, Dan had instructed her to make her way back to the car park.


‘I’ve called Renard and asked them to wait for you,’ he said.


‘What about you? We all came together, so, how will you get home?’ El asked.


‘Don’t worry about me. We’ll be here for hours yet—maybe all night,’ Dan replied. ‘I’ll get one of the team to give me a lift.’


El nodded and then trekked down the hill, then the steep steps of the gully. From the first lookout, the vehicles in the car park appeared so small, like toys. People like ants crawled around them.


I wonder how many of those “ants” know of the body? she thought. I hope no journalists got wind of the situation and are lurking down there with their lumpy film equipment and hundreds of onlookers.
One thing she had learnt from her years on the force was that news like this, the finding of human remains, seemed to bring journalists out from behind their computers. As if they could sniff out a breaking story. Or was there a leak? Someone on the force mentioning it on Titter or Myface?


‘Wouldn’t put it past Dee,’ El said.


She had caught Dee out, mobile in the palm of her hand, scrolling. Then there were the Dee-spamming episodes. El had made the mistake of joining Myface, for a start, and then in a moment of insanity, accepting Dee as a friend. In a blink of a screenshot, inane and blatantly silly posts flooded her email and Myface page. Dee, of course. “Find out what sort of lover you are—do this survey”, “Upload your selfie and find out what you’d look like when 80”, “Stop pigs being persecuted—copy and paste this article and send to 10 friends” … And the list, the scrolling was endless. All Dee. Only Dee.

*[Photo 2: Spam! Spam! Spam! And more Spam © Readers Digest circa 2017]

‘Doesn’t Dee have a life?’ El said shaking her head at the bottom of the steps.


El passed the kiosk, still shaking her head while mulling over her mistake with Myface. She’d ceased using social media. She had a life, even while on leave. When some suspect character stole her profile and pretended to be her, El erased all her social media platforms.


‘Hey! El!’ Renard called.


El spotted the father and daughter pair on the alfresco deck of the kiosk.


Renard waved his hand which clutched a mint-with-choc-chips-flavoured gelato. ‘Up here, El. Come join us and have an ice cream.’


El trotted up the steps to the kiosk and after purchasing a latte-flavoured gelato, joined Renard and Zoe.
By this time Renard and Zoe had devoured their treat and sat with El at the metal dining suite, watching her lick her ice cream.


‘Well,’ Renard said, ‘that was a turn up for the books. Fancy finding a body…’


‘Shh!’ El said, ‘you don’t know who’s listening.’ She observed Zoe play with a watch, and then slip it into her pocket. Just the way she held the watch caused El to assume that the watch didn’t belong to her. Besides the watch looked old and rusty.


She was about to ask Zoe about her “find” when a van with a television logo crawled along the road below.


Instead, El nudged Renard. ‘We better get going before they start snooping around.’


El, Renard and Zoe made a quiet and unobserved exit from Waterfall Gully before the journalists became aware of their presence and connection to the “Breaking News”.

*[Photo 3: An Old Watch © L.M. Kling 2024]

Next morning, as the news chimed triumphant, “Human remains have been found…” El dialled Lillie’s number. While waiting for Lillie to answer, El registered that the exact location of the human remains was still a mystery to the public.

Tuesday April 26, 2022
10am

Dan

In the informal interview room, Dan gestured to a comfortable chair to the side of the low coffee table. Fifi perched herself on the edge of the seat offered and kneaded a ball of tissues in her palm. Every so often, she dabbed her eyes with the tissues.

*[Photo 4: Old Boots © L.M. Kling 2024]

‘Now, Fifi,’ Dan placed on the table a plastic bag that held the mud-caked leather boots, ‘do these look familiar?’


Fifi nodded. ‘My father had a pair like those. He wore them when he went camping…and hiking.’
Dan looked at his voice recorder and said, ‘Fifi Edwards confirms that the boots possibly belong to her father, Percy Edwards.’


‘Why did it take you people so long to find the body?’ Fifi glared at Dan. ‘We told you guys forty years ago that he was down there. And you did nothing.’


‘Forty-two,’ Dan said with a brief cough. ‘I’m sorry for the pain and hardship you and your family have been through, not knowing what happened to your father. I can’t make judgements, but as you can imagine, it was a different time and policing…’


‘But we told you!’ Fifi thumped the table. ‘How hard would it have been for a detective back then to just listen and take us seriously?’

We have no record of anyone coming in and making a statement.’


‘Probably thought we were just kids and were just wasting their time.’


‘So, you and your friends came into the station and spoke to someone?’


Fifi sighed. ‘Well, actually, we got my friend Lillie to come in and make a statement. She said she did, and I believed her; she was that sort of girl. Solid. Trustworthy. I mean, now, look at her. She’s a principal of one of the most prestigious colleges in Adelaide.’


‘And your sister-in-law.’


‘Who would know better?’ Fifi continued, ‘I’ve known her since we were kids. We were neighbours. Best friends since kindy.’


‘Best friends, eh?’


‘Oh, well, these days not so much, I must admit,’ Fifi said. ‘She’s always busy with her work. No life outside of teaching, and now she’s a principal, the task is all-consuming.’


‘Hmm,’ Dan uttered, but thought, Just the sort of person not to be trustworthy. After all, if Zoe is her daughter, then Lillie would have been in the initial stages of pregnancy. Perhaps she had other things on her mind when her friends instructed her to go and report their finding. Did she get distracted and forget? Did she turn up at the police station and have to wait too long? Was she afraid her secret would become known if she reported the discovery of remains? What was her secret? Pregnancy? Or something more sinister?

*[Photo 5: Hiking Buddies © C.D. Trudinger circa 1970]


Detective Hooper leaned back, laced his hands and rested them on his taut belly. ‘What can you tell me about the day your father went missing, Fifi?’


Fifi shrugged. ‘He went to work and never came home.’


‘Then, how come he was wearing hiking boots?’


‘I don’t know, I was just a kid. ‘sides, Mum ‘n I went to town that day. Had to get a new pair of school shoes. I remember ‘cos I was angry. Really peed off. My friend Lillie and her brother, Sven and my brother Jimmy, were going for a hike up in the hills and Mum said I couldn’t go. Not fair!’


‘And your dad, as far as you know, went to work.’ Dan leaned forward. ‘And what sort of work did your dad do?’


‘He was a businessman.’


‘What sort of business?’


Fifi shrugged. ‘I dunno. Cars, I think. Holdens up at Elizabeth, I think.’


‘I see…’ Dan mused. Always remember him into Fords.


‘So, on that particular day, January 1978, your dad drove off in his…’ Dan looked up from notetaking.

‘What car did your family own?’


‘Um…a station wagon…blue…’


‘What make and model?’


‘Gawd! I can’t remember. Those cars, they’re all the same. And Dad had so many of them. I mean, we’re talking fifty years ago.’


‘Forty-four, Fifi,’ Dan said, remembering that at the time, the family had a Ford Falcon, XA Fairmont station wagon. And she was correct, it was blue. He mused how the family looked a sight all piled into the wagon rolling up the church driveway to swell the numbers of the congregation on Sundays. Mr. E (Edwards) big noting himself after the service, Sunday best brown suit—look at me! I’m from Somerton. Look at me! The latest model car! Look at me! Look at what a good father I am! All these children I have! I’m a good Christian. I’m fruitful and multiplying. Look at my wife! She’s the most beautiful lady here! Dan’s dad called her a “trophy wife”.


‘Yeah, you’re right.’ Fifi lifted her bag from the floor and rose from her chair. ‘I don’t think there’s much more I can tell you, sir.’


‘Thank you, for your help, Fifi.’ Dan also stood. ‘If there are any developments, we’ll be in touch. And if you can remember anything else, let us know.’

[Photo 6: The Opposition to Ford: Proud owner of a Holden Monaro reborn © L.M. Kling (nee Trudinger) circa 1982]

When Fifi had gone, Dan reflected. His mum had once said when Mr. Edwards had gone, Mrs. Edwards came to life, became her own vibrant person. Before, she had no personality, she really was just a “thing”, a trophy. But once her husband had left, she was filled with verve and energy. Then there was no stopping Mrs. Edwards.


He thought about Lillie. At college, a pretty, but dull kind of girl; the sort who melted into the background. Studious, he reckoned. And now, according to Dee, all class and power, running a fancy-wancy college in the Eastern suburbs.


Dan chuckled, ‘It’s like Lillie took over where Mr. Edwards left off.’

© Tessa Trudinger 2024
*Feature Photo: Boots © L.M. Kling 2024

***

Sometimes characters spring from real life,
Sometimes real life is stranger than fiction.
Sometimes real life is just real life.
Check out my travel memoirs,
And escape in time and space
To Central Australia.


Click on the links:


The T-Team with Mr. B: Central Australian Safari 1977


Trekking with the T-Team: Central Australian Safari 1981

Or for a greater escape into another world…
Check out my Sci-fi/ dystopian novel,


And click on the link:


The Lost World of the Wends

Friday Crime–The Culvert (20)

/ lmkling / Leave a comment

Lofty

Anzac Day, Monday April 25, 2022
10am — 3pm
Mt. Lofty

Dan

While old diggers swilled down beer in RSL clubs around the nation, Dan led an intrepid group of friends up the steep steps of Waterfall Gully. A perfect day for a hike, he considered. And to do some snooping for El’s requested cold case being the mystery of the missing men, Jan von Erikson and Percy Edwards.
First, he’d invited El to join him. He was confident that El could sense ghosts and point him in the right direction to find “souvenirs”. But then, El’s partner, Francis Renard asked to join the expedition, followed swiftly with a request that his newly found daughter Zoe Thomas come along too. Sven had then wanted to join the party. But at the last minute, he bowed out as he had a catch-up tutorial for students who had failed their first assignment.

Dan stopped at the viewing stand and, after glancing at the waterfall trickling a meagre offering of water down its cliffs, he watched his troupe of followers crawl up the steps. He chuckled remembering the times he’d taken his family on this same route up to Adelaide’s iconic mountain. While the children would be bounding up the steps and slopes like deer, Kate, his ex would be huffing, wheezing, and complaining. Inevitably, Dan would coax Kate, his wife at that time, saying, “Just five more minutes, and then five more minutes.” Then, just as inevitably, they’d reach the old ruin halfway to the summit, and there Dan and the kids inevitably leave “Mum” to rest and recover there while they completed the mission to the top.


*[Photo 1: First Falls Waterfall Gully © L.M. Kling 1984]


No huffing, puffing and wheezing with this lot, though. All of them seemed to be at the peak of their fitness, even 65-year-old Renard. Renard boasted that he jogged up and down Mt. Lofty at least once or twice a month. Zoe his daughter as proof of nature over nurture, also boasted of her adventures in Tasmania: Traversing the Central Highlands from Cradle Mountain to Lake St. Clair, climbing Mt. Hartz and Frenchman’s Cap. And of course, El had kept up her fitness running, jogging and bike riding along the track from her home in Brighton to Hallett Cove.


He did think of asking Jemima, but she hadn’t been answering his calls lately. What was the current term of that? Oh, yes, he remembered, “Ghosting”. Rather fitting for today’s walk, he mused with a pang of sadness.


Dan waited and sighed. ‘What’s taking them so long?’


El strode up to Dan. ‘Sorry about that, Zoe has to stop every few minutes to take photos.’


‘What? Of this? We’ve hardly started,’ Dan said, ‘the rate we’re going we’ll be hiking back in the dark.’


El looked at her watch. ‘It’s only ten o’clock, plenty of time.’


Renard and his daughter joined them at the vantage point.

*[Photo 2: View from top of the Falls © L.M. Kling 1986]


Zoe spent precious minutes framing her scenes and snapping shots using her Nikon camera with a formidable zoom lens attached to it. She kept muttering, ‘You said it’s a waterfall, but where’s the water?’


‘It’s been a bit dry over summer,’ El said, ‘it’s the driest state on the driest continent.’


‘Antarctica is actually.’


‘Spoken like a true lawyer,’ El laughed.


‘It’s important to have your facts right,’ Zoe returned while photographing the waterfall with minimal amounts of water dribbling down it.


‘That’s enough, girls,’ Renard said, ‘let’s enjoy the hike. Besides, Dan’s getting a bit toey; he wants to get to the top.’


‘And, how long does it take to get to the above-mentioned top?’ Zoe asked.


‘Erm, takes me only about an hour, on a slow day,’ Renard said, his chest puffed out in pride.


‘Well, then, what’s the rush? We’ll be up ‘n down in no time.’ Zoe looked at El. ‘Oh, unless El’s not up for it.’


‘Oh, I am,’ El snipped, ‘and if Dan is so desperate to summit, why don’t we make it a race? See who can reach the top first?’


Dan slung his backpack over his shoulder and pouted, ‘No need to rush. I was hoping we’d enjoy the hike. Maybe have lunch at the ruins.’


‘Nup, not good enough, mate,’ Renard jogged on the spot, ‘nup, I say race.’


‘We get to the top, and on the way down, we can have lunch,’ Zoe said rubbing her hands together. ‘Come on Dad, let’s do it.’


The foursome bounded up the steps to the Second Falls, but soon after, Zoe and her father disappeared into the scrub leaving Dan and his former crime-fighting partner sauntering behind.


While batting liquorice bushes just past the Second Falls, Dan glanced at El who had kept pace with him. Renard and his daughter had, in their quest to be “first”, become absorbed in the distant heights of the Mt. Lofty trail.


Dan asked, ‘Sense anything?’


El glanced around her taking in the dense grasses near the creek with just a trickle of water. ‘Actually, no. Should I? Is there something about Zoe that we should know?’


Dan shrugged. Perhaps it’s better if such things like ghosts of murder victims haunting the Mt. Lofty trail should come naturally. After all, it was El, who after talking to Fifi suspected that her father met his end here. She did say they found human remains…


*[Photo 3: A stop at the Ruins © C.D. Trudinger circa 1965]


‘Where did Fifi say the remains were, El?’


El sat down on the ruin wall. ‘She didn’t. Just that they found them near a drain or mine entrance.’


Dan placed his hands on hips. ‘Great! No sense of what direction the body could be?’


‘No, but, logically, since they were up here in the height of summer, on a thirty-eight-degree day…after reaching the summit, Fifi was desperate for a drink. Almost fainting. They managed to get a lime cordial from the kiosk. But let’s just say, the lime cordial didn’t stay down her for long. Anyway, after a rest, Fifi reckoned they begin the climb down. She mentioned they had a rest around here at the ruins. She was feeling better and went looking for water. That’s when she came upon the remains. Under some bridge, she reckoned.’


‘Bridge? What bridge? In all my years exploring, hiking around here, I’ve never come across a bridge.’


‘Maybe it looked like a bridge but I s’pose it could have been some sort of drain or mine entrance.’


‘Could be. Perhaps what would be called a culvert. So, on that premise, she’d be looking in a gully where a tributary might be.’ Dan pointed at a nearby dip in the hillside. ‘I reckon if we follow that little gully there, we might find something. Or at least you may sense something.’


‘Worth a try,’ El chuckled, ‘I can imagine Renard and Zoe patting themselves on the back and treating themselves to cappuccinos at the top now.’


*[Photo 4: View from Lofty summit © C.D. Trudinger circa 1965]


‘I wonder when they’ll be looking around and saying, “Where’s Dan and El?”’


‘Renard will probably say that I “piked out” and am out of form since I’m on holidays.’


As they began stepping down into the gully, Dan sighed, ‘Oh, I wish you’d come back, El, I really don’t get on with Dee.’


‘What’s wrong with Dee?’ El laughed.


‘She’s so…so…’


‘Paranoid?’


‘Yes.’


‘Has to do everything by the book?’


‘Yes.’


Boots thumping on the ground made Dan and El stop.


El gasped, ‘I sensed that!’


‘So did I.’


Zoe burst through the wattle bushes. With eyes wide like a cat in fright she exclaimed, ‘You’ll never guess what we found.’


‘What?’ Dan asked.


‘A koala?’ El said with a nervous laugh.


‘No! Come!’ Zoe gestured. ‘Dad’s keeping guard. Says you’ll know exactly…’


‘Who?’


They tramped over the slimy creek bed and slippery rocks. Reeds and acacia bushes whipped their bodies as they thrashed their way through the scrub.


‘What possessed you to go down here?’ Dan asked.


‘I had to pee,’ Zoe said. ‘Then I sort of got lost. Lucky, I had a signal on my phone. Didn’t fancy…But I was wandering down this creek and I got curious…it looked so…familiar.’


‘What?’


‘Who would’ve thought I’d be on a hike with Detective Dan and just like those murder mystery shows, I’d come across…how strange!’


Renard met them as they approached a wattle bush. ‘It’s this way,’ he said pointing to a clump of blackberry bushes.


After navigating the prickles of those particularly thorny scourges that had invaded the native bushland, the group stood around a slimy puddle. What appeared to be a leathery cowhide draped the entrance to a drain as if it were a welcome mat. In the mouth of the cave, an upturned skull sprouted a sprig of native lilies.


Dan squatted by the leather. ‘It’s a ribcage,’ he said.


El hunched over and stepped into the cave.


‘Don’t go too far, love,’ Renard said, ‘it could be a disused mine.’


‘It’s not,’ El sang in return, ‘it’s a drain. See all the water trickling out of it?’


Zoe looked on and with arms folded, said, ‘This place is giving me the creeps.’


‘Now, that’s the sort of thing that El would normally say,’ Dan said, then poked his head into the drain. ‘Sense anything El?’


‘Like what?’ El snorted. ‘A ghost?’

*[Photo 5 and Feature: Kangaroo Carcass, Brachina Gorge © L.M. Kling 1999]


Something shiny caught Dan’s attention. He reached over to a tuft of grass by the drain’s edge and parted the leaves to reveal a silver chain. He reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out a pair of gloves, then a plastic bag.


El looked around at Dan. ‘You came prepared?’


‘You never know,’ Dan replied and bagged the chain with a cross pendant. He then smiled at Zoe. ‘Now, I was going to use my phone, but as you have such a quality camera, Zoe, would you mind taking some photos for me?’


Zoe stared at the “evidence”. She turned pale. Then she patted her camera bag and shook her head. ‘Sorry, I-I can’t…this is creeping me out.’


She backed away from the remains, then turned and ran, disappearing through the bushes.


‘Wait…Zoe…don’t…’ Renard called as he chased her.


Dan sighed, ‘Too much for the aspiring lawyer, I guess.’


‘And we are too used to scenes such as this,’ El said.


Dan lifted the phone to his ear and called in the forensic team, then the coroner. He hoped that there was enough DNA on the remains to identify the victim.

*[Photo 6: Boat on Macquarie Harbour, Strahan, Tasmania © L.M. Kling 2016

Zoe


As the lawyer scrambled down the slope, her mind raced to a disturbing conversation she’d had at the hotel in Strahan four months ago. The week before Christmas, and one of the old locals had approached her. A fisherman who owned a fancy yacht and by her estimation had imbibed way too much.
He sidled up to her at the bar and talked to her as if he knew her. Kept calling her Lillie.


“I dare you!” he repeated in his drunken drawl. “I dare you to hike up Mt. Lofty and find that geezer. He’s up there under the bridge, ya know. I dare you to find ‘im, Lilly.”


“It’s his fault, ya know. Ya ol’ man. He made me do it.” The fisherman then patted Zoe’s arm. “Nah, you’re a good girl, Lilly. You’d never rat on ya ol’ man.”


Zoe massaged the mud-encrusted watch in her pocket. Up until that moment, she had thought the fisherman’s words were the ravings of a drunk man.

© Tessa Trudinger 2024
Feature Photo: Kangaroo Carcass Brachina Gorge ©L.M. Kling 1999

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Friday Crime–The Culvert (19)

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A Portrait of True Love

Saturday, April 23, 2022, 4-5 pm
Norwood to Brighton

El

El giggled as she dodged and weaved around slow-moving and stationary traffic on Unley Road. Just can’t win, she thought. Drive in the left lane, and cars parked on the side make her swing into the right-hand lane. Stick to the right and you get some geezer that must turn right and wait for on-coming traffic. So, you’re stuck. Swing to the left. Even on a Saturday.


In her head, she reflected on the portraiture session with Lillie Edwards. The larger-than-life figure, in more ways than the obvious, kept Eloise entertained with her stories of her family and misadventures. No mention of Tasmania, however. Nor a little bundle she may have left there. But that was to be expected.
Lillie did moan about her fraught relationship with her young adult daughter, Tiffy, however. So, on the drive home, El, in her usual way of making sense of events, imagined those events running in a movie reel—especially the tale of Tiffy’s antics on the most recent Australia Day.

*[Photo 1: Australia Day—Most often celebrated with a BBQ © L.M. Kling 2017]


Australia Day, and the last vestiges of a less-than-perfect summer holiday wilt in the sweltering heat in the foothills of Adelaide. A blowfly beats against the window, in time to the droning of the radio, doom and gloom, global warming, and politics. Nine in the morning and thirty-four degrees Celsius—already!
Tiffy sits at the kitchen table. She’s the sitting-dead, the zombie of no sleep after a hot night, with no gully breeze. Sticky and sweaty, after tossing and turning with Mum’s chainsaw of snoring filling the house.


El laughed, ‘Bet Lillie does snore.’


Mum enters the family room and Tiffy recoils. ‘Ugh! Mum! How could you!’
‘It’s our family day, dear. I’m wearing my lucky golf shorts.’
‘Those legs should not be seen in public! Oh! How embarrassing!’ She covers her eyes shielding against the assault of Mum’s white legs under cotton tartan shorts. At least she wears a white T-shirt; better than nothing. Matches the legs, she guesses.


Dad drifts into the family room. He’s looking at the polished cedar floorboards while tying up his waist-length hair in a ponytail. He wears his trademark blue jeans and white t-shirt with a logo of some rusty metal band. That’s Dad. He’s a musician.


‘Something odd about the man,’ El spoke while passing the shopping centre near the “Dead Centre”, as she called the cemetery. ‘Can’t put my finger on it, though. But I sense it. He’s hiding something.’ She glanced at the blue-grey structure. Do I go in? I need more Oolong tea. They have the best…nah, I’ll wait.

Catching up with Fifi at Bathsheba’s next week. I’ll get it then.’


On with the reverie…


Tiffy looks to Dad. ‘Dad, why do we have to play golf? Why can’t we just have a barbecue by the beach like my friends?’


‘Because this is what Mum wants to do,’ Dad says. ‘We’re having a family day together before Mum gets all busy with work, and you get all busy with Uni.’
‘But, Dad, we always play golf. And it’s not family-building, it’s soul destroying.’
‘We’re doing this for Mum.’
‘That’s right, Tiffy.’ Mum strides down the hallway and lifts her red bag of golf clubs. ‘Ready?’
Dad and Tiffy follow Mum to the four-wheel drive all-terrain vehicle. The only terrain that vehicle has seen is the city, oh, and the only rough terrain, potholes.
‘The person who invented golf should be clubbed,’ Tiffy mutters.
‘Tiffy!’ Dad says. ‘Mum loves golf. We play golf on Australia Day because we love Mum, okay?’
Tiffy sighs. ‘Okay.’

*[Photo 2: Australia Day: Celebrate with a BBQ, watching the cricket, or at the beach © M.E. Trudinger 2010]


‘Well, if I were Tiffy, that would be my stance,’ El said heading west to her beachside abode. She passed one of her old work places on Sturt Road and sighed with a sense of relief from the constant pressure of understaffing and increasing crime. However, a tinge of regret and longing to be in the thick of the action, solving crime, crept in.

She continued her imagining…

‘What a way to ruin a pleasant walk!’ Tiffy grumbles as she hunts for that elusive white ball in the bushes. Rolling green hills all manicured, a gentle breeze rustles the leaves of the gum trees either side. Her ball has a thing for the trees and bushes. She heads for them every time she hits the ball. And if there’s a sandbank, her ball plops in it like a magnet. And don’t get her started on the artificial lake.
Dad and Mum wait at the next tee ushering ahead multiple groups of golfers.
Tiffy’s ball doesn’t like the green and flies past it. She’s chopping away at the bushes near Mum and Dad.
Mum smiles at her and says, ‘Are you having a bad day, Tiffy?’
Understatement of the year. She swings at the pesky white ball.
‘Remember to keep your eye on the ball,’ Mum says.
Tiffy fixes her gaze on Mum and pokes her tongue at her.

Another shopping centre closer to home beckoned, but El turned at the Burger joint corner and drove ever west beach wards.

*[Photo 3: Brighton Beach Jetty © L.M. Kling 2010]

El sniggered as the reel of her over-active mind continued…
It gets worse.
Tiffy straggles to the tenth after twenty shots. Mum and Dad sit on a bench sipping cans of lemonade.
‘Well done! You’ve finally made it halfway,’ Mum says.
Her daughter stares at her. The cheek! Now she’s got white zinc cream over her nose and cheeks. ‘You look stupid, Mum. Like a clown.’


*[Photo 4: Festival Clown © L.M. Kling circa 1993]


‘You look sunburnt, dear,’ Mum offers the sunscreen, ‘come and put some on. There’s a pet.’
Tiffy glances at her reddening arms. ‘Can I stop now?’
‘You may not,’ Mum says. ‘We’re only halfway. Now, come and I’ll put your sunscreen on. You don’t want to get skin cancer.’
‘I won’t if I stop.’
‘Come now, Tiff, it’s our family day,’ Dad says.
‘Oh, alright.’
Mum pastes her daughter with sunscreen. ‘Where’s your hat? Have you lost it? You need your hat.’ She finishes covering her with a bottle full of sunscreen and offers Tiffy her tartan beret. ‘Here, you can wear mine.’
Daughter jumps away. ‘No! Ee-ew!’
‘Come on!’ Mum thrusts her hat in her face.
‘No!’ Tiffy says. ‘I’m not wearing any hat! It gives me hat hair.’
Mum shakes her head, replaces the beret on her bleached bob before placing her ball on the tee. As she stands, legs apart, eyes on the ball, the wooden club raised ready to strike, Tiffy watches her mum’s behind, not a pretty sight.


*[Photo 5: The flag and green so far away, Poatina © L.M. Kling 2010]


Mum turns slowly, her eyes narrowing at her. ‘Would you please stand back? You’re casting a shadow. Don’t you know that it’s against golfing etiquette to cast a shadow?’
Tiffy steps aside. ‘No, I seemed to have missed that one.’
Mum swings her club back. She stops again. She rotates her body and glares at Tiffy. ‘You’re still casting a shadow.’
‘This isn’t the Australian Open and you’re not the “Shark”. Have I missed the television crews?’
‘Don’t be sarcastic,’ Mum says. She’s acting like a shark.
‘Sorry!’ Tiffy says with a bite of sarcasm and then retreats behind a nearby Morton Bay Fig tree.

*[Photo 6: Morton Bay fig Tree, Glengowrie © L.M. Kling 2022]



Mum arches back her polished wood, then stops a third time. She marches over to Tiffy and snarls, ‘You are in my line of vision. Take that smirk off your face!’
Dad shakes his head while tossing his golf ball in the air and catching it.
‘It’s not for a sheep station,’ Tiffy says and then edges further around the thick trunk.
Mum stomps her foot and rants. ‘Now, that’s just ridiculous! Over-reacting! You haven’t changed. You always over-react. Grow up, girl!’
Tiffy slinks over to Dad and stands next to him. ‘Am I in your way, now, Mum?’
Mum shakes her club at Tiffy. ‘I’m warning you.’
Dad tosses the ball higher in the air and says, ‘Ladies, calm down.’
Mum puffs, lowers the club and strolls back to the tee. She swings.
‘She’s not in a happy place, Dad,’ Tiffy says, ‘she can’t be enjoying this family day. Next Australia Day we’re having a barbecue. And we’re using her golf sticks for firewood.’
Mum looks up. The club having shaved the top of the ball, causing it to dribble a few centimetres from the tee. Mum’s fuming.
Tiffy sniggers and then says, ‘Good shot!’
Mum points at the ball. ‘Pick it up! Pick it up, child!’
Dad hides his mouth and giggles.
‘What’s your problem, Mum? I’m the one losing here.’
‘Oh, stop being a bad sport and pick up my ball!’
‘Don’t tell me what to do.’ Tiffy strides up to the ball. ‘I’m not one of your students.’
‘Do it!’
‘Get a life!’ Tiffy says and then grinds the ball into the recently watered earth.
Dad claps.
Mum sways her head and clicks her tongue. ‘You have seriously lost it, Miss.’ Then she places another ball on the tee. ‘Oh, well, I was just practising, considering the circumstances.’ She swings and lobs the ball into the air. Shading her eyes, she watches the ball land on the green.
‘That’s cheating!’ Tiffy says.
‘It’s just a game,’ Dad says with a shrug.
‘Mum’s psycho,’ Tiffy says taking her place at the tee.
A crowd has banked up behind the family. Tiffy chips the silly white ball and watches it hook into the thick of the pine forest. Mum and Dad head down the fairway and Tiffy commences her next ball-hunting expedition.

*[Photo 7: Pine forest, Fleurieu Peninsula © L.M. Kling 2004]


El sits in the car while waiting for the garage roller door to oblige. The Edwards’ movie in her head continues…

Tiffy catches up with her parents on the eleventh. She’s given up forcing the ball in the hole.
Mum holds a pencil over a yellow card. ‘Score?’
‘Twenty,’ she fibs.
Mum says, ‘I don’t believe you.’
‘Thirty, then.’
‘Oh, come on!’ Her beret flops over her left eye. She looks ridiculous.
Tiffy waves. ‘Whatever!’
The Edwards family reach the circle of smooth green grass. Mum races up to the flag and lifts it. She grins at the sound of a satisfying plop. She stands still, her eyes fixed on the hole. Then she raises her arms and dances a jig on the spot. ‘I did it! I did it!’
‘Is she okay?’ Tiffy asks Dad.
‘Hole in one, Tiffy. Hole in one.’
Tiffy gazes at Mum performing a River Dance, trampling over the green in her tartan shorts and white legs. She still looks ridiculous. How embarrassing, there’s an audience gathering, watching her performance. Now she’s hopping and clapping away from them.


*[Photo 8: The Goal on the Green, Poatina, Tasmania © L.M. Kling 2010]


Tiffy sighs. ‘Just my luck! Now she’ll be gloating for the rest of the game.’
‘It has been her day,’ Dad says. He waves at Mum. ‘Well done, dear.’
‘She’s demented,’ Tiffy turns to Dad. ‘I don’t know how you put up with her.’
Dad pulls out a handkerchief and wipes his eyes. ‘It’s called love, Tiff. You put up with the good, the bad and the ugly.’
‘I say you’re putting up with ugly most of the time.’
‘Your mum’s been through heaps. She had it tough growing up. That’s what love is about. You don’t throw it away, just because it’s not perfect all the time. I mean, none of us are perfect.’
‘But Mum?’
‘You’ll see,’ Dad says and then he taps his daughter’s back. ‘Come on, it’s our family day. Better get on. I reckon Mum’s danced her way to the thirteenth already.’


*[Photo 9: Had enough of golf © L.M. Kling circa 1984]

El chuckled as she stepped through the garage door into her home. ‘Not exactly the way Lillie related her experience of achieving a hole-in-one, but I think my version is more amusing.’
‘What was that?’ Renard called from the kitchen.
‘Hey, Francis, dear, did you know that your old girlfriend got a hole-in-one?’
‘No, my dear,’ Renard slung a tea towel over his shoulder, ‘did you know that Sven was interviewed by the police the other day?’
‘Well, I’ll be,’ El replied and hugged her Renard, ‘Lillie made no mention of that during our portrait session.’

© Tessa Trudinger 2024
*Feature Photo: Stumped by the trees of the Golf course, Poatina Tasmania © L.M. Kling 2010]

Sometimes characters spring from real life,
Sometimes real life is stranger than fiction.
Sometimes real life is just real life.
Check out my travel memoirs,
And escape in time and space
To Central Australia.
Click on the links:


The T-Team with Mr. B: Central Australian Safari 1977


Trekking with the T-Team: Central Australian Safari 1981

Or for a greater escape into another world…
Check out my Sci-fi/ dystopian novel,
And click on the link:


The Lost World of the Wends