Doomed Dynasty Pt. 07

The duo from The Bugle arrived, with the wedding photo. "Please excuse us for a couple of minutes," said Matt, closing the sitting room door on the reporter and photographer.

He went into the office where Courtney and Patricia were waiting anxiously.

Matt looked at the photocopy of Reece's wedding picture, with the bride closest to the camera.

"Isn't she beautiful," sighted Courtney. "How could they have got married without us being there?"

"She's a fine looking woman," replied Patricia, who wondered what that complexion would look like exposed to the Blenheim sun.

"Too skinny for my liking," commented Matt, truthfully. He read the caption story.

"It says she's Chase Ireland a famous Australian former champion swimmer and international model who has just announced her retirement. Her parents in Sydney are very wealthy and the parents of her husband are a very wealthy farming family from New Zealand. They met at a disco in Stockholm.

"I didn't know Reece had gone to Norway."

"Sweden," corrected Courtney, trying very hard not to burst out weeping again.

"Whatever. Perhaps he was in a cycling race over there. Come on, ladies. We've kept the Press waiting long enough. They have deadlines to meet."

* * *

The abruptness of Reece's marriage and how Courtney had been terribly upset about it, crying herself to sleep over the news, unsettled Matt. He could not understand why the little bugger could have done such a thing to his mother and grandmother.

It didn't bother Matt personally, though a proper wedding at a proper time would have allowed the families to establish a relationship. By why hurt women who seem to go all gaga over weddings?

Riding a farm-quad out to check grass growth, or rather the lack of it, on the farm allowed Matt to become introspective, which was something he rarely did.

It seemed that Reece had never quite measured up to expectations, thought Matt, and it was not all one-sided. As a baby Reece would never relax in his arms when he was distressed. But within a few moments in his mother's arms, hushed by her soothing sounds, he would fall asleep. As Reece grew, the distance between them widened. It was noticeable and everyone including himself had assumed it would stabilized normally in time. But it hadn't.

As Reece became a little older it became obvious that he hated being chased, and cried when left alone during the game Hide and Seek. He was fearful of water of deep water and became almost hysterically when placed him in a dinghy and it began to rock.

Jeeze, what a disappointment as a kid, thought Matt.

Before Reece turned five Matt realised that he would not have a son he could teach to box, wrestle and tackle hard in back lawn games of football. It hurt him deeply when Reece rejected horse riding, utterly destroying his dream of having a son beside him riding up country with their skis and camping gear on a pack horse. Instead, feeling hopelessness rather than seething malice, he watched his wimpy son being tutored in drawing by his artistic mother and learning to play elementary tunes on the piano under the affectionate guidance of his grandmother.

"A girl in boy's clothing." he once uttered in despair after one whisky too many.

Total humiliation came when he and Courtney went to the school late one afternoon to discuss Reece's progress with his teacher. Ionic Chambers had described their son's comprehension, his artwork and oral and written language as being well advanced for his age, but went on to say that he appeared to be poorly coordinated physically and unfortunately lacked enthusiasm for any physical activity in the playground or in structured activity whether it be medicine ball games or using sports apparatus.

He remembered cringing when thinking that Ionic may have given that assessment to her husband, Clive Chambers. Clive had been one of Matt's liveliest rugby mates, a front-rower who'd earned the nickname of 'Thumper'. Ionic had cheered Courtney by saying that Reece had excellent social-interaction skills and had many friends at school. But the axe fell again, when she added that when asked about his interest in sport generally, Reece had told her that he would much prefer to be in the library reading.

Stopping the farm quad, and looking down into the river valley, Matt smiled. After Ionic had said that he'd thought for a moment that perhaps Reece was not his son. But in his heart he knew that was an absurd notion, He knew that since their marriage Courtney would have been absolutely faithful to him because that was her character.

That evening he confided his frustrations to his mother. Initially she'd been shocked to hear the report.

"Let him be himself Matt. Let him be himself," she'd said.

He stormed out of the room, slamming the fly screen behind him.

A couple of nights later, when concern about Reece had eased, Patricia had told him that she remembered her own guardian, a brilliant pianist with a beautiful singing voice, being very upset. She despaired that Patricia was going to become engaged to Curtis who was bereft of any signs of cultural interests.

The three of them had chuckled about that but Patricia had to spoil that moment by adding, "I wonder what Courtney's parents thought about you when you began buzzing about their daughter?"

Matt started up the motor of the quad, and turned towards the gate in the fence line: "The problem with you, Reece, is there's too many of you mother's genes in you and none of the Curtis's toughness."

Patricia was home alone four nights later when Reece phoned. She congratulated her grandson and said Chase looked to be a very lovely young woman and asked when would he be returning with his new bride.

"Whoa, whoa, grandma. Let me get a word in. Thank you for your congratulations. I expect a lovely present from you when we see you, which should be in about three weeks. We're in Chicago right now, where Chase used to be based. The media is going wild over us grandma. Chase and I are exhausted. Please pass me over to mother."

Told that Courtney and Matt were out, Reece said he had to rush, said goodbye and cut the call before Patricia could deliver her next question. That's not like Reece, she thought. He's always been so considerate.

Courtney was upset that she'd not been home when Reece called. "When will he call again ... what you didn't ask?" commented Courtney in exasperation. Patricia simply held up her hands in an empty gesture, saying "He hung on me, I'm sorry."

Next morning Courtney cheered up when a reporter from 'The New Zealand Women's Weekly' called from Wellington saying that she and a photographer were chartering an aircraft to fly in to Blenheim in a couple of hours' time. She asked Courtney if she and Matt could drive to Blenheim airport and be interviewed there.

"I'll bring my husband if I can find him," replied Courtney, breathlessly.

"That's fine, Mrs Curtis. It's really you we want to interview. Your son married to Chase Ireland it's a really big story for us."

Courtney was over the moon. However, she wasn't so excited at the airport when the reporter revealed that Chase was six years older than Reece.

"What's your reaction to that Mrs Curtis?"

Courtney had lived among the diplomatic corps for most of her early life. "Reece's is very mature for his age, so I don't regard age difference as being a problem. Anyway it's only a couple of years or so difference."

The next afternoon Courtney was home alone when the phone rang. "Mrs Curtis?" inquired a honeyed voice that Courtney instinctively knew was her new daughter-in-law."

Matt was brassed off when he learned that she'd called. "I missed the airport interview and I missed talking to my sweet new daughter-in-law. Why can't these people call at nights when a man's a home?"

His bleating was ignored, but he and Patricia were interested in Courtney's news. It was true, the couple had re-established contact at a disco in Sweden where Reece had gone with some mates on a short holiday. He'd been partying fairly hard and was almost out on his feet. Chase had motioned to him to sit down beside her. He fell asleep and she ended up nursing him across her lap. A few people she knew said how lovely they looked together. A few minutes later her driver called on her mobile phone saying he was waiting outside as arranged. Reluctantly she had to wake Reece, and offered him a ride home.

Courtney halted. "You may not like this next bit Patricia."

"Don't let that stop you, my dear."

"All right. She offered Reece a ride back to his hotel, but the driver got the message mixed up and they arrived at her hotel. Chase said she asked Reece up to just one drink but they didn't even get that drink. As the door of the room closed they fell into each other's arms and ... well, they didn't emerge for two days. Her manager was frantic. She was due back in Chicago to renew her modelling contract. The manger pulled her by the shoulder, ripping her dress. Reece told him to back off and the manager told Reece to butt out. So Reece hit him, knocking him to the ground."

That was the only bit that appealed to Matt.

Courtney continued. "Chase told me that she was really angry with her manager, saying 'You rotten dingo, stick your contact. I'm retiring from modelling and we're going to get married'. Reece simply said. 'Yeah.' Outside the hotel she had said jokingly, 'Was that a proposal?' and Reece had told her that yes, he loved her madly."

"That's very romantic," said Patricia, dabbing her eyes.

"It was she who proposed I reckon," muttered Matt, wondering why a flash model would want to marry his son.

"Don't be pedantic Matt," said Courtney defensively. "Anyway, Chase said that she was sick of the pressure of maintaining her international career and had been thinking about a quite life. When Reece had come back into her life from living in one of the quietest countries in the world, it seemed destiny that brought them together. She thought she would like to marry and live in New Zealand."

"Well that sounds a little far fetched," commented Patricia.

"I think the word for it is bullshit mother."

"Stop it you two," ordered Courtney. "This has become a fairytale romance."

The family told no one about their son's marriage, but soon after The Bugle hit the street the phone at The Palms rang again as soon as each call terminated and people started arriving at the door. The tempo picked up again later in the week when 'The Australian Women's Weekly' was delivered to local outlets. It had a huge spread of photos of the wedding

It began all over again when three weeks later Reece returned home with his bride. People swarmed at them, including people from his past who came out of the woodwork.

* * *

The signs were not good for Reece ever returning to his home town to settle. Late that first night as Reece watched Chase lying in the bath she told him that she thought that his grandmother was 'a grand old lady', his mother was 'rather a dear' and his father appeared to be 'somebody really special'. "But Reece," she complained, "This house ... the quaint little town ... I could never live here."

"Well, darling," replied Reece. "I'm not thinking of leaving my job in Christchurch for the time being so you will be happy there; we only need to come up here on the occasional weekend. Christchurch has some good restaurants and is close to ski fields and to Queenstown where you say you once did a model shoot there and found the place charming. We could look for a much larger apartment than my present pad that you could decorate however you wish. How about that?"

"Sounds wonderful, darling. Now come here and kiss momma. Ouch, your stubble hurt."

The relationship slipped slowly downhill from that moment.

Chase proved to be rather self-centred as was Reece. He began to spend nights gambling, smelling of smoke but was never drunk.

Eighteen months later Reece had tired of Chase.

And Chase? She was just tired. Her marriage was going nowhere and she was tired about Reece whining on about having a baby.

A problem for Reece was that he was spending more money than he was earning, and Chase agreed to contribute $2000 a month. But Reece was trying to reverse an unlucky gambling streak, so soon he was asking Chase for even more money. She refused, screaming at him that he needed professional help to curb has unhealthy interest in gambling.

He phoned his mother, and she said she would send him $1000 but most of her money was tied up. She suggested that he approach his father for a loan if he needed money that badly but Reece shouted, "God no and don't breath a word of this to him. He'll think I'm a failure to add to what he already thinks about me."

One night in a bar after leaving a poker school, Reece found an acquaintance at the bar and after a couple of hours was told that he could make good money by dropping packages off to businessmen.

"You mean drugs, don't you?"

The man replied it was best that question wasn't answered, watching Reece closely.

"We do I start?" asked Reece, brightly. He was excited and believed that his life had turned an important corner because this high-risk sideline paid big money.

* * *

On a windless Sunday morning Matt and Courtney were to be guests on a cruise in the Sounds on the Tancred's new boat, the Cresta Dora.

Matt had been told they were going out into the Sounds with the Tancred family.

That surprised Matt. 'Family" implied that the restaurant couple had children, or perhaps other relatives were coming. Courtney, of course, had seen them frequently, often popping in to see the parents when she was in the vicinity.

At the restaurant Matt was introduced to Felix Noel Tancred, nineteen years old, and Belinda Rhone, aged eighteen.

"Queer names for kids, Felix and Rhone," commented Matt.

"Shhh, they'll hear you. Felix is Raquel's father's name. Raquel is an Australian, from Sydney, and Tony comes from a small place in Kent in England. They met when they were working in France to perfect their culinary skills.

"And they fell in love in the Rhone Valley where they went for a dirty weekend."

Courtney looked startled. "It was something like that. How did you know about Rhone?"

"Easy. Foodies love to go to Provence and the Rhone Valley is nearby."

For a moment Courtney looked at Matt's head. Was there a developing brain under all that mass of bone? She also noticed that the number of grey flecks amid the black were increasing.

"You're never indicated any knowledge of France before apart from mentioning it when the All Blacks have been playing rugby there. We did visit Paris of course during our short overseas tour."

He shrugged. "I've been reading a bit."

Like a trout accelerating to leap out of the water after a fly, Courtney began her run. "Why?"

"Well, we're go back to France some day, won't we?"

"Oh Matt, I love you," shrieked Courtney, leaping at him.

"Come on, you two," chuckled Tony. "Passion develops out there on the water, we're still walking along the wharf.

Tony was pushing a wire mesh trolley called a 'dolly', half filled with everyone's boating gear and provisions.

Slipping out of Courtney's hug, Matt looked along the short wharf. There was no launch there other than what looked like a smartened up fishing boat, about 60ft long. He read the name on its stern, Cresta Dora. Fancy naming a boat after a bottle of wine!

That same vessel that Tony called a launch was indeed a former commercial fishing boat. It was heavy and slow, powered by a beefy diesel engine. Once aboard Matt opened a hatch and looked down at the engine, recognising it as a marine version of the Caterpillar that had powered his restored Little Lionheart.

"It chugs alone, all day and all night, never missing a beat. The boat itself costs a small fortune to maintain, but I'd never part with it," Tony said proudly, hooking his sunglasses down off the peak of his sunhat.

Walking through to inspect the facilities Matt was impressed. Full headroom in the saloon and in the master cabin as well. He thought of the comparison with his own launch, powered by a 10hp Ford petrol engine. It was cramped and he still occasionally knocked his head when entering the cabin. Once inside he had to walk with knees bent to avoid further collisions with the cabin top.

They cruised down the main body of the Sound at nine knots heading into a lifting breeze. But sheltered inlets on either side looked like silvery green-tinged arteries with steeply rising bush clad hills, occasionally rimmed by coves. The inlets looked frozen in time, as if they were paintings.

"You should be painting these scenes," Matt called to Courtney.

"He's right," said Tony.

Raquel, who was the only one wearing what Matt still called togs, had observed they were far too small for her, added her voice. "At least try it Courtney".

"All right, I shall one day soon."

"This calls for a celebration," laughed Tony, appearing with a bottle of chilled wine. He had been trying to think of an excuse to open a bottle but had been cautious because of a possible reaction from the women. It was, after all, only 10 o'clock.

A leisurely ninety minutes later two emptied wine bottles lay in a recess beside the adults. The teenagers were inside at the saloon table playing cards.

Remembering the name of the launch, Matt asked, "Isn't it unusual naming a boat after a bottle of wine?"

Raquel erupted into laughter.

"Mum's away," commented Felix.

The day was heating up and Tony had taken his shirt off. Matt noticed that he was quite muscular 'for a little guy'. He mentioned that later to Courtney and she told him he'd been trained as a commando when in the British Army to perform special duties during hostilities abroad.

Tony explained the reason for Raquel's mirth. "She was bought up on wine unlike you Kiwis who in those days apparently only drank wine on special occasions, and we came to know why," he said, screwing up his face.

"In France and in Germany Raquel chased after their top wines to broaden her palette at least that was her explanation. We returned to Australia and after a year, still without opening our own restaurant, we crossed to Auckland in February 1962 on a short holiday. On our first night we dined in, at the so-called Grand Hotel. We told our waiter we wanted a bottle of New Zealand's best white wine. Whether that what we got or not it was, I am not certain. But he presented us with a label called Cresta Dora. I tasted it and thought, well, it's passable. I'm really a red man myself."

"Me, too," confided Matt.

Tony thought they had that in common then. He'd noticed the way Matt had handle things when it was his turn at the wheel, standing like a giant ancient mariner. He'd also noticed Matt's furtive glances at Raquel but hoped that would not lead to problems. He smiled at his next thought. Big bastard though, wouldn't like to have to feed him every day.

"And what happened," enquired Courtney, anxious to hear the punch line.

"We'd already had a few drinks in the bar beforehand, and Raquel was in the mood to party. So instead of her usual dainty way of drinking wine, she took a hearty swig and promptly coughed and shot the lot over our table. It caused quite a stir. The maitre 'd came charging over, looked at us with real concern, and asked me, "Is everything in order, sir?"

Raquel, still coughing, said something like, "No, it's bloody well not all right. I've just been served kerosene."

"Mum doesn't usually swear," said Felix loyally.

The adults looked towards the saloon. The teenagers had gathered at the entrance, apparently to hear the story.

"Well at least not in front of children," giggled Raquel.

"And that was the end of the story?" asked Matt.

"Almost," replied Tony. "The maitre 'd clicked his fingers which was unnecessary because our waiter was cowering right at his side. He said something and out waiter came running back with a bottle of wine and handed it to his manager, who expressed extreme apologies and wondered if this bottle of imported wine 'would be satisfactory to madam'.