You're Worth Dying For Ch. 05

“Was the timing right,” he worried, helping her to clean up.

“Yes – we need to draw into the station both roughly on time to best achieve pregnancy; we’re discussed that. I want a pee.”

“No, no. Stay still, exactly where you are. I’ve a surprise.”

Ryan buried into the kit and pulled out a paper bag and began feeding her grapes, one by one, kissing her cheeks in soft pecks after dropping a grape into her mouth, opening like a baby bird wanting to be fed.

It was so romantic. Maggie couldn’t help herself and began crying. But instead of Mr Bozo asking in astonishment, “Why are you weeping?” he licked and kissed her tears away. /Deep warmth spread through her and she sighed: If she hadn’t known better she would have thought he was making a super-human attempt at getting her pregnant.

Oh really?

That was as likely as seeing a big red double-deck bus driving along the sands. Maggie watched the big red bus drive on to the beach and waited for it to bog down in the soft sand. No, just kidding she smiled.

“Why are you smiling?”

She stroked his face and said she was just fantasizing – she’d pretended she’d seen a big red bus drive along the beach.

“Don’t be daft – it would bog in the sand.”

Ever so seriously she said that bus didn’t and announced she simply must have a pee.

“Okay,” Ryan said. “Do it there – I’d like to watch.”

Maggie turned brick red. They engaged in all sorts of body intimacies but NEVER had he asked to watch her pee. Was he turning into a pervert? She decided to let him have his thrill but nothing was forthcoming. She closed her eyes and strained and with a big grin felt the release. She opened her eyes expecting to see him crouched down examining the high pressure flow, ready to praise her for producing such a torrent, if that was his reaction. Instead he had his back to her, watching out to sea.

“Are you ignoring my premier performance,” she complained. She often tinkled when he was in the bathroom but when he looked at her in the mirror he seemed only to be looking at her face, or her breasts if she were nude. There wasn’t really anything to see down-under anyway because of the bowl effect created by the toilet set.

“Oh, I’ll look if you really want,” he said airily. “One of the guys was talking about how excited he gets watching his wife pee, so I thought I shouldn’t miss out. But ten seconds was enough, it did nothing for me.”

“Perhaps I performed inadequately,” Maggie frowned.

“No, I wouldn’t think so. I saw your pussy lips part and it began flowing like a torrent. But nothing more than I expected. Perhaps I should ask Stan to take a look and give his assessment of you; he appears to be expert as he also said his sister-in-law put on a show for him.”

“Oh gawd, no thanks you perverts.”

“Just kidding,” he grinned.

“Oh really,” Maggie said, with a touch of venom but hearing herself began to grin.
He’d dressed so she told him to undress.

“Why.”

“Let’s wade into the water. It’s the romantic thing to do.”

“It’s freezing and anyway Milly said not to swim here because there are rips, that we should walk a couple of hundred yards to the south; there’s a safe cove there.”

“No, come on you girl – take a risk.”

They walked down, hand-in-hand under she was waist-high in the freezing water. He’d been the one doing the moaning, especially when the water reached his nuts.

“I love you,” he said kissing her and she murmured acknowledgement into his mouth. Maggie had the crazy though she was pregnant.

After their picnic they returned to the beach house and sat in the chairs watching the surf and seagulls until it was time to go to bed.

* * *

The restaurant wasn’t even half-full, it being Monday lunchtime whereas on a Thursday and Friday it would be impossible to get into Vicenza’s without a booking.

Maggie looked at the woman opposite her – aged 41 according to her file; dark hair with ends in need of attention, cute freckles and a pretty smile that suited the open face.

“It’s lovely of you to invite me here for lunch Maggie,” said Brenda McCallum. “Am I correct in thinking this is a business lunch.”

Maggie nodded. “Wine?”

“Please – a light white.”

“Orchard Paddock Riesling please, Rollo.”

As the wine waiter walked away Maggie said, “We want to buy your family business.”

Brenda gathered herself and replied, “Wow!”

“Is that a good or an unfavorable reaction, Brenda?”

Brenda breathed in deeply and laughed, asking Maggie to give her a break.

The wine arrived and Maggie tasted it and watched Brenda watching the golden fluid flow into her glass. Brenda wasn’t showing any sign of hostility; that was promising, or was it?

“My father would die if we sold the business.”

“Do you know that for sure?”

“I’m pretty sure.”

“What about you?”

“You want the truth?”

Maggie smiled encouragingly and Brenda said if Maggie paid enough for the business she’d be able to move her family to Australia – she fancied Queensland. Perhaps they might purchase a motel or a profitable home-stay business – “That’s it, a home-stay with a bit of land and the kids could still have horses.”

“Yes, a change of lifestyle is better than a holiday, I guess. Do you think I’m an evil woman doing this to you?

“Not at all; it’s business. How much would you pay us for our golden egg?”

Maggie asked was it a golden egg and watched Brenda’s face turn pink.

“Definitely.”

So Brenda lied which was not unexpected as Maggie’s file showed Brenda cheated on her husband – three men’s names were on that page.

“Well, before talking money…”

There were interrupted by people looking at the TV set.

“Let’s take a look,” said Brenda. “Something’s up”

They walked over to the group gathered at the bar watching.

“What’s up Larry?” Brenda asked.

“Hi, Bren: a big stink. The council voted on changing the name of Main Street to de Lacey Avenue and deadlocked 8-8 but the motion was passed on the Mayor’s casting vote. That crazy bastard radio-head drove his van down the street blasting out that hit tune “Maggie, You’re Worth Dying For’. The announcer said the principal campaigner against the name change, Bert Twizel, came out of his hardware shop with an axe and attacked the van. The radio-head jumped out, knocked Bert into tomorrow and then three cops arrived to arrest the radio-head who flattened two of them before the policewoman got him with her baton.”

“Oh Freddie, I must go to bail him,” Maggie cried.

“Don’t bother for another couple of hours,” Brenda advised. “The cops won’t let him out until he cools down. Let’s go back to the table.”

“No Bren, wait,” said the guy she knew. “The announcer said some American tourist captured it all on video camera and it’s been rushed to the studio and they’ll play it – she said in a few minutes.”

Maggie ordered iced water for herself, as her limit was one glass of wine, a high octane cocktail for Brenda and a beer for their informant Larry.

“We now will play film captured at the scene of the dramatic scene on Main Street, Southgate City, little over an hour ago,” said the continuity announcer.”

The film showed Indiana Dick driving along slowly and then grinning and waving at the camera-man. The camera jerked around to catch a man in glasses and brandishing an axe chop at the front of the van, bringing it to a stop. He then slashed at the windscreen, shattering it but creating only a hole where the axe hit.

Indiana Dick jumped from the van, his face bleeding from glass fragments. He seized the axe from the attacker and hurled it on to the roof of the hardware shop and then with an almighty roar hit the shopkeeper with his fist, knocking the man back at least a yard; he fell, not moving.

“The bastard, look what he did to my van,” cried the upset driver. He turned to the camera, grinned and said, “Hi, this is Indiana Dick of radio KM-FM on a typical shopping day on de Lacey Avenue, Southgate City where citizens sometime forget their manners and have to be taught a lesson. Oh, here are my friends the cops.”

“Arrest that man – he criminally assaulted my husband,” shouted the woman, administering to the groggy man on the pavement.

“Please come with me to the station for questioning Freddie.”

“Fuck off – arrest that guy for axing my van and his missus for lying to the police.”

“Freddie, you’re under arrest for swearing in a public place. Resist and you’ll regret it.”

The policeman attempted to twist Freddie’s arm up his back but Freddie broke free and crashed his first into the policeman’s face, blood spurting and he sank to the ground.

“Our policeman tend to bleed,” Freddie said into the camera.

Everyone in the restaurant was now crowding the bar looked at the TV set. A great roar of laughter erupted.

A fist smack against Freddie’s right ear. He shook his head, stepped back and the second policeman charge him. Freddie grabbed his shoulders, pulled him down a bit and then kneed him, that officer dropping into a groaning heap.

Turning to the camera, Freddie grinned, “I’m having plenty of variety in my day at the office today.”

Maggie looked at Brenda who was squeezing her left breast muttering, “Oh my, the power of that man” when two other women watching the TV set screamed, “Duck, Freddie.”

The camera had caught the policeman rushing up behind Freddie; she raised her baton and thudded it on to his head and he dropped out of sight of the camera.

“Oooh,” groaned the onlookers as the cameraman focused on Freddie, face down in the gutter, the policewoman kneeling on him putting handcuffs on him.

The announcer reappeared. “We are now crossing over to Ryan de Lacey, who with his wife Maggie thwarted a bank robbery in Southgate some months ago. He talks to our reporter Tammy Taunt.

“Frankly, it did not bother Maggie or me whether the name of Main Street was changed or not. But now that it has been, albeit on a casting vote, I’m very proud to have the actions of Maggie and I commemorated in this manner.”

“Mr de Lacey, don’t you feel for those people who didn’t want the name of their main street changed?”

“No, and I don’t apologize for being unsympathetic. Some citizens always resist change because it makes them feel more comfortable to stay with what they know. What an exciting way to go through life.”

“But they were probably proud of the name of their main thoroughfare.”

“Come on Tammy, it must have been a moron who named the main street of this city Main Street. Sorry, I meant to say person without imagination. In my view de Lacey Avenue is an improvement and I’ll walk up the avenue with Maggie with pride. I thank those citizens who had the imagination and nous to support this change.”

“Thank you Mr de Lacey. We…”

“Oh Tammy, to show our respect for our city, Maggie and I will each donate $30,000 to go towards the beautification of de Lacey Avenue. I’m off now to bail a great supporter of de Lacey Avenue, Indiana Dick, from police custody.”

At the bar a very well dressed American woman said, “God, isn’t that Ryan de Luca a really good guy,”

“And so is his wife – this woman under this black hat is Maggie de Luca.” Brenda said

“Oh, so it is,” said the woman who tossed a wad of money on to the bar – Rollo, break out the champagne to celebrate the birthday of de Lacey Avenue.”

Fifty minutes later Brenda and Maggie returned to their table and ordered lunch. “You must be feeling very proud,” beamed Brenda with three glasses of champagne added to her consumption.

“Very proud, very happy and feeling $30,000 dollars lighter; Ryan hadn’t discussed the beautification donation with me; it obviously entered his mind after being interviewed.”

“He’s a generous person, Maggie. You are lucky to have him. Look, I’ll talk to my brothers. We thought you’d be the mystery client those business brokers were acting for; we’re at the crossroads, big money needs to be spend on our plant.”

At home that evening Maggie thanked Ryan for announcing her generous donation. He blushed boyishly and she said it was a very appropriate announcement and would make his parents very happy as well. “One must do these things for one’s community,” Maggie yawned.

She told Ryan she’d lunched with Brenda McCallum and Brenda had agreed to discuss the possible sale of the business with fellow directors; if there was majority interest two consultants would be allowed to complete due diligence to allow Pukekura Publishing to offer to purchase the entire business as a going concern.

As Ryan helped her undress Maggie yawned again and said, “What was it I was going to tell you; I’ve forgotten. As Ryan walked out to cook his dinner she called, “Darling, I may have had my last wine for a long while. I’m sure I’m pregnant.”

Ryan came charging back into the bedroom.

* * *

The New Zealand-inspired documentary ‘Children With Faith In Us’ had its world premier on TV1 in New Zealand and received rave reviews. It screened in many countries and was expected to collect numerous international film awards.

On the day after that TV1 screening, the heavily pregnant Maggie commenced a number of mind-boggling fund-raising endeavors, designed by her committee and consultants, costing $155,700, that expenditure having been approved by the Southgate Hospital Board.

Julius Stephen de Lacey was born on the very day beautifications to de Lucy Avenue were declared completed by the baby’s paternal grandfather Rupert de Lacey unveiling a naming plaque at a ceremony presided over by the Mayor. It ended with a new van driven through the avenue by Indiana Dick booming out ‘Maggie, You’re Worth Dying For’, song of the year in both New Zealand and Australia.

When the Julius was four months old Maggie stepped down as chairman with her successor aware the committee was only $72,000 short of its $7.5 million target. The first three of the five-stage makeover were unready underway. On that same week the directors of Alphas Print Limited accepted the increased offer from Pukekura Publishing Company for the sale of their company as a going concern. The next day Maggie and her planning committee began fine-tuning arrangements for the progressive merger of Alphas Print operations into their commercial print division. To help finance the purchase Pukekura Publishing had sold their newspaperSouthgate Regional Echo to Maggie who was moving it to a new site where she planned to establish a ultra-modern design-print facility specializing in the needs of small businesses that virtually placed her beyond being in direct competition with Pukekura Publishing. Pukekura Publishing had secured the contract to print all editions of theEcho for the next three years.

Everyone was happy with Maggie.

THE END