A Blue Christmas

"That's the lot, Mark, all sixty, the kerosene is stowed away, so we're ready to roll," she said, "This was a great idea, you know, I really feel like I am getting some of my own back on how I've been treated these last couple of days. Thank you, you're my white knight."

I mumbled something like "anyone would," but don't think she heard. Louder I said, "No, I should thank you, I'd never have managed to do this on my own. For a sheila, you're a bonzer bloke, one solid Bluey. I'll wait until I hear you start the engine, then I'll light up and toss the flares, all right?"

"Right," she grinned.

She raced back to the driver's cab, while I rolled the final pair of tyres in place and trotted part of the way back, to an area I felt confident I could ignite the tyres from. There was still no sign of life from the slumbering calendar crew.

I heard my engine turn, kick and fire behind me, the throaty rumble sounded quite loud in the still dark night. I twisted and lit a flare and threw it thirty metres into the pile of tyres furthest from me, towards the rear of the parked vehicles. I twisted the second and threw it about twenty-five metres to the front pile. The rear pile flared up quickly and engulfed the tyres, the second pile ignited just a second or two later. I only hesitated for a moment.

Within seconds both piles were flaming nicely end to end. I didn't need the spare flares, so I held onto them and ran as fast as I could back to the truck, the passenger door left open for me.

I dived in, shut the door and glanced back as Bonnie switched on the main headlights, then carefully and deliberately moved us off smoothly, changing up through the gears as we gained momentum. I looked back as I fastened my seatbelt and the initial kero flames had clearly started ignited the tyres as thick black smoke completely enveloped the Winnoes, hiding them from view from the highway, so they wouldn't even see which way we were heading.

We hit the road, heading up the highway north to Port Augusta and soon Bonnie had us up and cruising to the 90 click speed limit. Looking at her profile, illuminated by the dashboard dials, her face was full of smiles, a smudge of dirt on her cheek made her look even more naturally beautiful, rather than detracting anything from her looks.

"You all right to carry on driving?" I asked.

"Yes, this is brilliant. I've never had so much fun in the dark before, ever." She laughed at her own joke.

"Ha! I used to like to give a lady a good time, but at a guess we've both led sheltered lives. It felt good for me, too. Well, seeing as you are driving like a pro, I am going to get a cold drink from the fridge, do you want some water or a fizzy drink?"

"Please, could I have a bottle of water?"

"Sure. Flat or fizzy?"

"Just flat, thanks."

I grabbed us each a bottle of water and opened hers for her as I turned back to strap myself back into my seat.

"We're not being followed so far," she reported, "and there's little traffic on the road, except we have just been waved through by a police road block just back there without them slowing us down. Looks like they're expecting us."

"I'll give the blues a bell ... wait, I don't have their number. I'll ring Mike."

"It's early, will he be up?"

"Too bloody right he will be, it's Crissie morning and he's got four female ankle biters and a house full of his missus's rellies, he'll be up all right ... G'day, Mike, owyagoin'? ... yeah, really average at this end, mate ... look, can you let the sheila you've been reporting to at Port Augusta know that we're on our way up to see her? ... oh, they've seen it on the webcams and are sending the firies? ... hold off for an hour? .... righto ... give me the coordinates." I typed them into the sat nav. "Catch you later, Merry Crissie, Mike ... hooroo."

I turned to Bonnie. "We are to go directly to the police station, to each give them a statement, but they want us to keep clear for at least an hour, as they are still getting the drug and swat teams together large enough to cope what we reckon they have here to deal with."

"So we need to park up for a bit?"

"Yeah, we'll do it near the police station, say a couple of blocks away, and we can get cleaned up again after all that running about. My hands are black from those tyres. Looks like I'm going to have to do some clobber washing, soon. I normally live like a slob when I'm driving so I only have a minimum amount of spare clobber with me, and you're wearing most of it."

"Well I appreciate it, Mark. Yes, my hands are filthy too, and I've ruined my nails, as you might have guessed. I urgently need a shower. And you need to shave, too. Make yourself presentable to the police or they'll think you're a crazy arsonist bum, right?"

"Yeah, we call bums 'swaggers' round here. I was going to let my beard grow, but the longest I usually leave it is over a weekend. This is only the third day since I last shaved and it's deffo feeling scratchy already."

We saw flashing lights coming towards us, a convoy of half a dozen police cars and divvy vans, preceded by a fire engine, all headed southward at speed. We passed two more stragglers heading south with all their blues and twos on, just as we reached the outskirts of the city.

We drove into Port Augusta and were directed by the sat nav off the A1 down Flinders Terrace into an industrial park. Bonnie parked up the truck on the roadside outside the Cheap As Chips retail store.

"Nice parking, partner, you're an honorary truckie, now. Did you enjoy that little trip?"

"I loved it. Thank you for trusting me with your truck, and thank you again for being my white knight."

"No worries. If you want a new career as a truckie in Straya, you could sign up to a truck driver school and learn how to pass the practical and theory tests. You're a natural."

"Not sure if I would enjoy driving long distances on my own, Mark. This trip has turned from a nightmare into an adventure, though, and I hope the police will let me proceed onto Darwin, and not retain me until the trial, if they get enough evidence to prosecute Powell."

"No, they won't keep you, the case'll take months to get to trial. They have plenty of evidence from the webcams; they may ask you to come back to testify and be cross examined at the trial, but we'll ask the police about that when we see them in a few minutes. Why don't you have your quick wash down in the cab first, while I keep a watch outside? I'll sort out some more clothes from my limited stock for you, then you can get changed in the sleeper while I wash down? Then I'll sort breakfast. A couple of granola bars and a bottle of water hold you until dinner?"

"Yes, OK, but don't worry about going outside, just turn your back and I can manage," she smiled, collecting her robe from the bed and putting it on, intending to strip off in the time honoured method of getting a cozzie on and off on a crowded public beach.

I sorted out the last pair of sweat pants and two tops, one of which I could wear with a pair of shorts, plus I had just enough grundies for the trip. I took off my clothes down to my grundies and wrapped a towel around my middle, just as Bonnie finished washing in her robe, and climbed into the bed area to change into the top and pants I'd left out for her.

"I hope we can find an all-day open laundromat today," I said as she put her dirty clothes in the laundry sack, "otherwise we might have to wear stinky stuff tomorrow. On Boxing Day the shops'll be open and hopefully we can get you properly clobbered up in the sales, probably in Alice Springs."

"They might even find my stuff during the raid. I am stuck for both cash and credit until they find my purse."

"Honestly, with it being Christmas Day, I reckon they'll only do a quick sweep of the vehicles in the truck stop with the dogs for drug evidence, and securely impound the vehicles ready to search thoroughly in two or three days' time, once the festive holidays are over and everyone's back to normal. Even if you tell the police exactly where to look, I would guess that your clothes have already been scattered around in the initial search."

"Yes, you're almost certainly right. Most of my clothes were in the calendar girls' RV but they took away my purse with my passport and all my cards when they locked me in another RV, so my purse could be anywhere."

"Well, there are some basic clothes on the bed for you there, sorry no undies, mine are no good for you. We might be able to find an Asian shop open this arvo, some of them stay open in the bigger cities during the Chrissie holidays. While they don't sell clothes as such, they may do basic smaller items like undies or bathers, even the odd novelty tee. And we can get you any basic feminine products you need, soaps, etc."

"I'm good for a week or so, but I do need to find a prescriptive chemist's shop soon, you know?"

"There should be a chemist's shop open somewhere in the city, even on Chrissie Day, for medicine emergencies, even in a small city like this, about 15 thousand people live here in Port Augusta, I think. The police will know where the emergency chemists are, but failing that, hopefully you can pick up everything else that you need in a supermarket on Boxing Day."

"I'm sure we can manage, I do appreciate how helpful you've been."

"No worries. Look, your clothes are on the bed, I've got a tee shirt, some daks and shorts to get into, if you pull the curtains and get changed in there, I'll change out here."

I really needed the dunny as well as a shower and clean my teeth. I thought I could hang on until we got to the police station, where I hoped I could get a shower so I stopped smelling so much like an old goat. I though they might even let me shave with hot water, which would make me feel more comfortable. If we could find a chemist's open today I could get a spare toothbrush for Bonnie, and she clearly needed to get in some feminine products. Though she hinted that she wouldn't be on her rag quite yet, I'd heard that shock and trauma, like being threatened with gang rape, might play funny games with her period cycle. She would need the contraceptive pill, too, I expect, remembering Maggie making sure she used them to regulate her shark week; without them her periods were all over the place, at least that's what she told me. Just thinking of all those years, when she put off starting our family, and then doing what she did to get up the duff, depressed me again.

It suddenly dawned on me that it was actually Christmas Day morning and I had three shopping bag of presents, from the driver's, the girls in the office and Uncle Pete, stowed in one of the cupboards behind the shotgun seat, but I had nothing at all for Bonnie. But then I had an idea.

While I waited for Bonnie to open the curtains again, I got a couple of granola bars out and fetched two bottles of water from the fridge.

"Merry Christmas, Bonnie," I said with a smile as she emerged from the bed box, "Not much of a festive brekkie, but should keep us going until dinner. I think it has been a productive day so far."

"So, having an unwanted guest aboard has its moments and is not too onerous, even if she is a 'sheila'?" she smiled as she half turned towards me.

"No, not at all, Bonnie, you've proved to be a bonza driver, and I couldn't have wished for a better rubber roller, arson accomplice and wheel-spinning getaway driver."

"Well thank you, I'll count those as among my most appreciated compliments." She laughed.

Strewth, her smile involved her whole face, with everything perfect, kissable lips, gleaming teeth, flashing eyes of iceberg blue, the skin puckered around her eyes in joy, her high cheekbones flushed with red, her eyebrows raised to open up her face in obvious pleasure.

There was no faking her enjoyment of life written all over that face. What joy it would bring to any young man who could make her wear that face, even if only once in a while? This was probably my once. At the police station, things were going to get serious very quickly.

"I only wish I was a better host regarding sleepwear and daywear, I'm even running out of towels. Anyway, Merry Christmas."

I learned forward slowly, carefully, to avoid imposing myself on her unnecessarily after her experience of being handled roughly so recently, and kissed her lightly on the cheek, briefly holding one of her shoulders while kissing, then releasing it immediately, like it was a hot coal.

She placed one hand on my chest and the other she placed behind my neck and pulled my head closer so she could kiss my other cheek and wish me a "Happy Christmas". She pulled back just a few inches away from my face. "I've not had a white Christmas this year, but I've got a white Knight, and I must say the only disappointment is that there's no mistletoe under which to kiss you properly ... as you deserve."

I tried to swallow but my throat was too constricted by how uptight I was. Here I was, faced with one of the world's truly most beautiful women, her face clean and completely devoid of anything other than what nature had blessed her with, and I couldn't even swallow let along exchange pleasantries with her, so I went practical.

"I have prezzies to open, from friends, workmates and my uncle, some are bound to be jokey, and they can keep for now, or you are welcome to help me open them ... but I do have a little present for you too, only I didn't have time to wrap it properly. Do you want it as it comes or would you prefer to wait until I can get something to wrap it in?"

"As it comes, I think," she breathed rather than spoke, not taking her spectacular blue eyes off my ordinary grey ones.

"Open your hand then."

She pulled her left hand away from my chest and, without glancing at her hand or changing the distance between us, she held her hand out, knuckles upward and wiggled her fingers with a provocative look of whimsy on her face.

"No, palm side up."

She wrinkled her nose and appeared to try to pout and turn down the corners of her mouth, but her face was still too smiley for that to work. She turned her hand over to be palm upwards. From my pocket I took out an object and pressed it into her hand. She looked down at it.

"It's a key!" she said, laughing. I'm sure the best gifts are those that are genuine surprises.

"It's a key to the cab door. I had a spare on the key ring in my pocket, so I thought I would let you have it at least until we get to Darwin. I will leave the ignition keys in a mug in the cupboard here. So, if I get locked up for damage to property, or theft of rubber tyres, or arson, or any other charge they may think up, you could still drive onto Darwin and the Royal Danish Consulate and get a replacement passport, access to your finances and get home. I'll leave some cash in another mug, which would keep you supplied in driving juice along the way. The coordinates for the Sentinel where the paper needs dropping off and for the Darwin airport truck stop, where the truck can be left, are in the sat nav. In a moment I will look up the Royal Danish Consulate online and enter that too before we go."

"Mark, what can I say? This is the best present right now, the memory of your gift which I will always treasure."

She leaned in and kissed me on the lips, gently at first and then gradually pushed her tongue between my lips and I simply let her. My tongue couldn't help but respond and I placed my hands on her shoulders, while she moved her hand up around my neck and pressed her torso and those glorious tits into me. It only lasted a minute and she was clearly having a natural response effect on me, despite my rational reservations, so I pushed against her shoulders and forced our kiss to break off. Her eyes opened wide at my rejection and she withdrew her hands, one still clutching the key.

"Er, I think we need to press on," I said, being businesslike again, not really wanting to explain myself, "we'll get our brekkie biscuit bars out of the way, then I'll spend a couple of minutes showing you where the juice, oil and water go in. The waste water won't need emptying, leave that for the new owners who take over next week."

She recovered quickly, "Of course, Mark, but I am sure there will be no problem with the police. The cause of this incident can all be laid at my door, and once I am in contact with my bank through the Danish Consulate, I will happily pay for any damages we've caused in answer to the threats we both received. Come sit down and eat and drink our breakfast,"

"There's no need for you to pay the damages, Bonnie, the idea of burning the tyres was all mine. I can offer to settle any bill that the restaurant that owns that truck stop present, and I can pay it off in Aussie dollars."

"OK, that would be initially convenient, but I insist that I can settle up with you later."

"I'll be leaving for Peru on the thirty-first of December."

"But you'll still have a bank account here, won't you?"

"Yes."

"Then I can transfer the funds to repay you. Just because you were a white knight coming to rescue a damsel like me shouldn't mean that you're out of pocket."

"We can talk about that later. At the moment I have just sold the company so I really have no money worries for a few months or so at least."

"Oh, have you been having money worries?"

"Not recently, but it was touch and go both four and five years ago, when I inherited an unhealthy business. Then yes, we had some shonky looking end of year financials those first two years. Running a haulage business wasn't always my career choice. But now, once I get this very last delivery made, I'm all sold up and I'm going walkabout."

"Walkabout? Think I've heard of this, isn't that where native Australians go off on their own to live off the land and 'find themselves'?"

"Yes, I'm leaving everything behind me and looking forward to spending time alone finding out who I am and what future direction I want to head in for myself."

We finished our breakfast in silence, then I guided Bonnie around the truck, showed her where juice and water went in, the manifest showing where the load of paper was to be delivered and the truck park where the truck could be left, all entered in the sat nav, along with the address of her Consulate.

I drove us to the police station, just around the corner and, as soon as I parked and we stepped down from the cab, we were confronted by the biggest black woman I had ever seen. She must've been two metres tall, one and a half metres wide and probably weighed in at 150 ks, and she was as angry as a frog in a sock.

She poked me in the shoulder with an index finger that threatened to dislocate the joint and indicated with a thumb behind her, "You, Mister Cornwall, Interview Room 1, now!" Then she turned to my companion and merely pointed to her, otherwise Bonnie'd surely have been heavily bruised, "Bonnie, Interview Room 2!"

As I passed her, I noticed the nameplate pinned to her straining blue tunic, "Shona" it read.

Chapter 4. INTERLUDE

IT WAS VERY early Christmas Day, when I found myself locked in a police interview room, together with some junior detective, barely out of high school, I thought. His shirt buttons were done up with one button hole adrift, very noticeable at the collar. The bastard made no attempt to hide from me that he was extremely pissed off at being called in at some ungodly hour from the comfort of his single bed, probably in a bachelor garret, to take my statement. He started out writing the statement from my slow dictation, but his mind wasn't on it and, after several inane questions and many crossings out, I simply took the pen and pad from him and wrote out the whole bloody thing myself.

I was just finishing signing the statement, when Police Sergeant Shona poked her head around the door. This time she was smiling broadly at me rather than doing her block like she was before. I wasn't sure which was more terrifying, the menacing growl I knew or her new mischievous grin. Either I was at liberty to go or the judge had given her fair suck to hang, draw and quarter me before leaving me out to grill on a long paddock under the outback sun, plagued by a million flies.