Almanac Fiction: Swifty Taylor and the Errant Husband (Episode 1)

 

In the depths of a Williamstown winter, when that inhospitable sou-wester blows in across the Esplanade, I suspect that I am not the only local who spends too much time dreaming of warmer climes. And there I was, feet splayed on my desk, chair reclining back on its hind legs, half-finished sudoku on my lap, eyelids suggesting that they would soon need to be propped up with matchsticks to remain open, when my inertness was chased away by a knock on the office door.

 

I sat up and grasped at an untidy pile of documents, making a pretence of studying them. “Come in,” I called. The door was flung open, and in strode a woman whom I had seen around the traps but didn’t really know. She was years younger than me, but her countenance carried a fierce determination. Like a chess grandmaster playing with the white pieces, she spat out her opening gambit before my voice could climb out of my throat to greet her. “Swifty Taylor, my name is Emma McDonald, and I want to retain your services. My husband Max is a no-good, despicable, deceitful cheat of a man. I want to divorce him, but I need to prove he has been cheating on me.”

 

 

My first instinct was to say that I don’t usually get involved in domestic disputes, but I wanted to hear a little more before I closed this show down. “Is that it?” I asked. She explained that she and Max had a pre-nup that he had persuaded her to sign when she was young, gullible, and in love. But things had quickly soured after a year or two of matrimonial bliss when she began suspecting him of playing away from home. He became more aloof just as his interstate business trips were becoming more frequent. “What does your husband do for a crust?” I inquired. “He is a merchant banker, and he’s done very well for himself. You might think I was foolish to sign that pre-nup, but at least I made sure there was an ‘out’ clause…that if he cheated on me the pre-nup would be rendered null and void.”

 

I was intrigued, but still hesitant to weigh into the tangled web of a broken marriage. I shook my head slowly. “Emma, this isn’t my thing. There are lawyers who specialise in this sort of stuff.” She stood quietly, considering her next move. Currently, it looked to be a stalemate, but she had a surprising move up her sleeve. The sound of a massive wad of cash hitting the desk broke the silence. “I’m not totally stupid,” she remarked. “For years, I’ve been squirreling away a stash for a rainy day. And right now it is pouring, Swifty. Consider this a down-payment.”

 

 

“Where is he now?” I asked. Sensing that I was weakening, she replied “In far north Queensland, Port Douglas to be precise. He says he’s at a business meeting, but I just know that he is up to no good! I will arrange for your flights and accommodation; all you need to do is bring me proof.” Her queen, bishops, and rooks were all going in for the kill. I looked over to the corner where my old electric strip heater was fighting gamely against the numerous draughts infiltrating the room. The blinds were open, but the room was dim, because outside it was so overcast that I’d soon need to be turning on a light if I wanted to complete that sudoku.

 

Could I really decline a trip to the tropics, not to mention some desperately needed cash? Cash that now sat silently on the desk, simultaneously mocking me and anticipating my next move. “OK, I’ll take a look. But I can’t make you any promises. However, they do tell me that Port Douglas isn’t so bad at this time of year.” Her face immediately brightened, and in doing so it lost much of the sternness that had up until that point been its dominant feature. “I’ve heard good things about you and your methods, Swifty. I’m thrilled that you can assist me.”

 

I allowed my mind to get ahead of itself by conjuring up visions of palm trees, humid air, golden sun, and turquoise waters. The conditions might even call for a pina colada or two rather than a Jameson. But I pulled myself together by reminding myself that, on the flipside, FNQ is populated by crocodiles, taipans, and jellyfish that pack a real sting. I saw Emma to the door. And as I ushered her out into the frigid hallway I could have sworn that I heard her murmur “Checkmate”.

 

 

You can read more from Smokie HERE

 

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About Darren Dawson

Always North.

Comments

  1. Karl Dubravs Karl Dubravs says

    It’s ‘Always North’ for you Swifty! I’m on board and looking forward to joining you in your work trip to FNQ.
    BTW – I knew an Emma McDonald a few (make that 10) years ago when I lived & worked in Canberra.

  2. Colin Ritchie says

    Setting the scene nicely Smoke, I’m on board for the trip!

  3. How’s the old B&W photos! Ha! Magnificent.

  4. Checkmate; oh dear, it sounds ominous Smokie.

    So ominous you’ve reeled me in hook, line, and sinker.

    I’ll await Swifty’s travails. The mind boggles.

    Glen!

  5. Peter Clark says

    Great start Smokie.

  6. Barry Nicholls says

    It’s good to see the great man back!

  7. Mickey Randall says

    If Swifty’s going to FNQ I hope he has a pair of white shoes. Brilliant. Looking forward to how this unfolds.

  8. Welcome back Swifty and judging by the photos I reckon you’ve got a number one draft choice !

  9. Thank you all for your supportive comments.
    I am glad that you are along for the ride.
    We shall see where this all takes Swifty.
    Cheers

  10. My brother’s got a blues band gig up north in July. Cooktown, I think. Not too far from Port Douglas. Looking forward to Swifty – who loves his music, I’ve heard – making time amidst his many responsibilities to Ms McDonald to check out the band and write a very favourable review for Almanac Music. I can provide a cash incentive.

  11. matt watson says

    Tell Swifty to be crocwise in Croc Country!

  12. Luke Reynolds says

    Fantastic to see Swifty back, look forward to seeing where this heads!

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