Lola's Lurching Life Ch. 03 - Final

Rudi half-cracked a smile and he said, "You are hard-nosed when you wish to be, Lola. You are probably the only person on this entire island willing to risk goading me when I'm in a mood."

"My thinking could be it's the quickest way to wrench you back into being your best self."

"Wrenching my back into being my best self? That has really deep meaning for me, Iola, woman of multiple talents."

"Well, it's surely a better result for you than jerking yourself off and asking your favourite angle for forgiveness, Rudi.

The car served, he wrenched the wheel to return it into a straight direction, laughing himself silly until he had to haul out his handkerchief to wide his eyes.

"Wow, you are priceless, young lady."

"I know," she was purred but was disappointed to learn from Rudi's admission about his near-dead relationship with his wife, thus indicating that he was not so charming at times to women.

Early evening in her vehicle when turning to say to her mother that Tom was arriving at last, Lola boggled and said to her mother, "Mum, for fuck sake, push some of that breast meat back under your dress."

"I can't because I cut some of the stitching to give Rudi a sight that he may rarely see these days."

"Mum, what about dad and his feelings?"

"Oh? I'll go back and change."

"No, I'll find you a couple of min-safety pins over at the cottage and you can use to close portion of the inside seam while I'm taking dad to have a look at the schooner."

"Thank you dear, and that's for not berating me for being so stupid."

"Well wait until you see the tits on my friend Caroline the Maître d' this evening. They may indicate to you the joys that Rudi lavishes his lips upon. Try to avoid using the name Caroline because Rudi's wife just may think something is going on between those two."

"Omigod, how interesting. The sexual secrets that exist in the vineyards, eh!"

Lola sighed but then was pleased to find her mum sitting with arms folded chest-high. The message had been received, loud and clear.

"I can't wait to see this Caroline wench," Veronica whispered.

Lola sighed, wondering why mothers seemed to find it necessarily to misbehave at times.

Lola's parents loved the refreshed exterior of the cottage and once inside, clasping the neckline of her dress, Veronica yelled, "That's a painting of mum in her rose garden, ah no it isn't, mum had brown hair and she was never a washed-out redhead."

"Glenys Hills painted that before arthritis brought on her retirement from painting, and she never knew you or gran," Lola said, slipping two safety pins into her mother's hand. "But it reminds me of gran and that's why it's here, as a gift from Glenys."

"Those dormers are recently installed," Tom said.

"And how can you tell that, Mr Detective?"

"It's current massed-produced wood joinery. If genuine considering the age of the cottage, the frames would have been slightly rougher hand-made joinery, but it's at least wood, rather than pre-painted aluminium."

"Come and look over the schooner while mum has a nose around here, dad."

Later, Lola's mother boggled at the classy architecture of the restaurant and said it looked as glamorous of any top restaurant in their region's twin cities of Napier and Hastings.

A waitress, leading them to Rudi's table, was intercepted by Caroline who took the menus and wine list from Joanna said she would take over the VIPs.

"Omigod, so this is Caroline," Veronica whispered to Lola. "It's a wonder that Rudi can keep his zip up."

That left Lola wondering if her mum had become hooked on on-line porn these days.

Caroline introduced herself. Tom's eyes bulged and Veronica told Caroline to call her Veronica and she was thrilled that her daughter's best friend was a lookalike of the lead actress in the restrict R20 film of years ago, 'Woman of Rome'.

"Really?" said Caroline, sounding as if she was immediately impressed by Lola's mother.

Rudi and his wife appeared soon after Caroline had settled his guest and their drink orders had arrived.

Rudi bowed in greeting and staring at Veronica's bustline muttered a greeting in Italian.

Tom was standing as a courtesy, with his daughter holding his right hand as if lovingly, or perhaps in case her father decided to swing a punch.

Rudi, only three-quarters the size of Tom but wiry, walked around him and his slap on the heavy guy's back probably could be heard half-way across the restaurant.

Tom gasped, and sat beside where Rudi would sit. Rudi sat Margherita between Tom and Lola after introducing her to their guests.

Margherita said, "And so at last I meet the famous Lola Hunt that my closest friends continue to talk about. I've lived all my life on this island and the only other female that I can recall being talked about on this island is the famous aviator, the late Jean Batten, made a whirlwind visit here.

Lola's parents and people in close-by tables were mute and listening.

"Jean Batten was internationally famous," Lola said. "In contrast, I've done nothing to acclaim fame and therefore rumours about me have simply made me infamous."

"Spoken like a true unpretentious local heroine, my dear," Margherita said. "Name me one person, female or male, who's had the courage to arrive on this island andf by day two has suggested the problem causing ill-thrift in the Wallace's vineyard, then being a former farm girl, supervises the contractor breaking up the ancient lava under those vines, and in about two months has purchased land and had it developed, trellised and planted in 5000 vines ready to bud in two or three weeks at the start of spring growth?"

"According to my friends, you walk tall on this island, young lady, because you inspire people and you yourself are a go-getter. My husband has taken you under his wing and apparently you acknowledge him as your mentor and he calls you his protégé. Lola, are you involved in a sexual relationship my husband?" she asked, her voice rising

Conversation halted between diners nearby.

"Are you joking, Margherita?"

A silent shockwave swept the room. Rudi's wife was called Mrs Nevada by almost everyone and Rudi usually referred to her as 'his wife' in conversations.

"Absolutely not."

"Rudi is older than you Margherita I would think, and is much too older than me to consider having sex with. Besides, he's married and that alone makes any untoward contact a no-no for me. It's true I practically worship him, viticulturally-speaking, and he's really okay as a guy to be super-friendly with."

General conversation resumed.

"I am so impressed with you, Lola. I believe in what you say, and I now believe in you and would welcome you to be my friend. Let you and I toast to friendship."

"Let's say 'Alla nostra salute', which means in English, to our health!"

"Alla nostra salute."

"Alla nostra salute."

Lola just managed to overhead her father whisper to Rudi, "Cripes, that was impressive. Shouldn't you say a few words?"

Rudi raised his glass to his wife and said, "I believe you will find Lola to be a loyal friend, dear."

Margherita nodded curtly.

Tension evaporated and the remainder of dinner went exceptionally well.

When being driven home two hours later, Veronica who'd consumed rather a lot of wine said, "You couldn't say to Rudi's wife you couldn't allow Rudi to bang you because that would be doing the dirty on your best friend, Caroline."

"That unbecoming of you to even think that, mother."

"Yes, it is," Veronica sighed. "Tom, I expect to be left legless tonight."

He pretended to snore and the women giggled like school girls.

"You won't have to worry about having to talk to Rudi's wife as she'd too up herself to have real social status."

"You could be right about that mum," Lola said.

Only she knew that Margherita had invited her to have lunch with her at the house (built into the stony hillside overlooking the entire company investment including the addition of Rolling Hills. The first invitation was for Friday as her parents would be leaving early-morning to spend another couple of days in Auckland before taking a flight home to Napier Airport where their car was parked and then to drive almost 150 km to their farm.

Lola felt she was too busy to feel lonely, but that not so. She twiddled with the thought of going on-line and looking at dating agencies. She thought with her infamy, she ought to have drawn attention to herself as an unattached reasonably attractive and sexy female.

But no?

An hour later she was awoken in front of TV by a phone call and she turned off TV.

"Hi, my name is Ritchie Duncan."

"Hi Ritchie, and almost goodbye."

"Almost because at least you did give me a name, your real name or a false name, who knows? Therefore, I'm listening."

"Great minds think alike," he said, sounding relaxed. "I thought the way to be in with half a chance was to just give my name, and it is my real name, and that might raise your curiosity."

"Okay, Richie. Call me curious and get on with it."

"I was at the winery restaurant the other night, close to Rudi Nevada's personal table and overheard the start of that interesting conversional at your table that soon rose in volume as Rudi's wife engaged conversationally with you."

"Indeed, and were you the guy in his mid-thirties dining with an older woman in a light brown business jacket and matching skirt, you wearing a blue and white spotted open-necked shirt and cream jacket, with your hair parted and swept right from the front view, instead of the more usual left parting."

"Why yes," he said, sounding startled.

"I half-noticed you. And the female with you, was she your boss?"

"She's my research supervisor from the marine biology department at Auckland University."

Lola decided to take a punt and asked was his work associated with marine poaching or inshore fish stocks?

"No," he chuckled, and she knew she only had one shot remaining.

"Do you know Max Logan?"

She had expected an instant yet or no, and after a few seconds, Ritchie asked cautiously how did she know he and Max knew one another.

"I didn't know but suspect you are both in the same field, marine biology. Max asked for permission to go on to my land to photograph some wildlife in the sea below. I accompanied him and after a while he told me what he wanted to photograph and he made several more visits and made an unwelcomed hit on me. I told him to never again venture on to my land."

Ritchie sighed and said that was vintage Max, who had the mistaken idea that he deeply appealed to attractive women.

"So, he was commissioned by your university department to photographs Orcas coming up a rising marine trench almost for the edge of the cliffs along my boundary to feed on rays."

"Yes, he wasn't supposed to divulge who was his client."

"He didn't, you just told me who his client was by saying yes to my speculative guess that you worked in the same university department, marine science. Did he finally get the required photographs?"

"Yes, but walking along the boulders at the base of the cliff involving many extra hours on the job."

Lola scoffed and said he only had himself to blame. "Where do you live?"

"It depends where I perform field work but usually in my pad behind my parent's luxury home near Surfdale. I go to Matiatia on my electric bicycle to catch the ferry and in the city ride to where I'm scheduled to be because the university is rather spread around the metro area."

"Do you have a doctorate in marine science?"

"Aye."

"Christ."

"There's no need to be overly impressed, and we are numerous."

"Do you have a beard and smell of fish?"

"No beard and sometimes may smell of fish, depending on my work at the time."

She sighed, pushed her hair back and said yes, he may date her on one trial.

Ritchie spluttered, "But I haven't asked you yet?"

"I can't wait around all night, Richie. I have a big day tomorrow, signing off a huge contract."

"Friday night, 7.00, give me your address and I'll call for you."

"To go where?"

"To a small family restaurant where it's unlike you'll be known."

"Great, and you call for me in an everyday looking vehicle."

"Yes, a Honda 250cc motorcycle or if you wish mum or dad's car."

Lola said no, a motor-cycle was fine."

"God, I can't believe you said that, someone like you."

"And what is someone like me"

"For instance, someone who can blithely call Mrs Nevada Margherita? It's all over the island and my mother said she knows of no one else who calls Mrs Nevada by her first name, not even her friends who like her husband avoids calling her anything."

Lola said, "The poor woman is bored shitless, she has to invent her own amusement."

"May I repeat what you just said to my mother."

Lola said no, that was just a private aside meant for his ears only.

"Okay."

She said that for some reason she believed that assurance, and gave him the location of her cottage and said goodnight.

"Wait, what is the street address?"

"It doesn't have one, being on an undedicated road that's more like a track. It's almost 300 yards on the left short of the back entrance to the Hills' farmhouse. How do you get to the Orca feeding site?"

"By a trailer boat I launch from Cactus Bay."

She said goodnight sweetly, and cut the call, thinking if he elevated in status to sleep with her, he could walk to work. Perhaps he was one jump ahead of her thinking of that possibility.

She giggled and said nah, men were not that smart. However, he may possess the thought that she'd be a great person to have as a wife, that is if he were interest in her brain and breasts.

"Oh, Ritchie Duncan, marine scientist. You may just be the guy to hold and respect."

She yawned and wondered who put those regal-sounding words into her mouth.

Chapter 21

The marine scientist Ritchie arrived in a small Lexus, his mother's car.

"Hi," she said frowning. "This is not motor-cycle; what caused you to chicken out?"

"I was sitting on the motor-cycle, thinking of beautiful you and wondering if choosing to take you seated on motor-cycle was inappropriate for a first-date when my mother screamed from their house, "You f-word idiot, come and get the keys to my car right this instance."

"Oh, mummy's boy?"

"Not usually but it's difficult to ignore good sense."

"Please wait while I change out of these jeans and leather jacket."

He said, she looked fine, but was ignored.

He muttered, "Christ, how to screw up big."

Lola re-emerged in under five minutes with her hair pinned up and wearing a twin-panelled white cape over a pale pink shirt and cream pants to mid-lower calf length and pale pink high heels.

"Christ," he muttered, gawking.

"My parent's recent gift after they visited me for the first time in years, ending on Tuesday, um, meaning my mother's gift and couriered from Auckland next day."

"Right," he said. "Another wee peck, please" and received a heavenly brush lips across lips.

He hurried around the car, bumping his right hip carelessly against the vehicle twice as he made it to the drivers' door, probably briefly wondering was he becoming paralytic.

Dragging his long legs into the cabin of the small vehicle, he heard Lola say the unbelievable, that she was excited as she was going on her first real date in months.

He said she must be joking, relieved at the last second that he'd substituted the word joking for the word lying. He'd considered he was amazingly lucky to have scored a date with one of the most dateable single women on the entire island.

"No, I do get invited a lot but it is usually to join friends or other groups. On other occasions I'm left having to go out with a girlfriend and fortunately I know have a number to choose from and so sometimes we go out in a group."

"But... but..."

"What?"

"Um let's go."

As they drove off, Ritchie said, "I've thought about you since the last time we spoke."

"Whatever for?"

He thought wow, what a grand opportunity to pounce but instead chose to tell the truth.

"I failed to correct your impression by explaining the depression that goes down from the base of the cliff on part of your vineyard and deepens quickly, mimics a marine trench but that's all. We confirmed that it's not a actual marine trench by requesting the Naval hydrographic and diving vessel HMNZS Manawanui to check out the apparent phenomenon during a training exercise. We learned the unusual depression, probably of ancient volcanic origins, extends out to sea for 248 meters when it flattens out to the surrounding seabed at a mean depth of 28 metres and that is by no means one of the deepest parts of the gulf."

"Wow, thanks for that," Lola said, sounding genuinely interested. I won't use the term marine trench again, now that I'm better informed."

"Um, may I ask you something personally, Lola?"

"Proceed, otherwise I'll be left curious."

"Are you between manfriends or do you not have a manfriend?"

"The later, and it's my fault, really. It wasn't until I purchased land for my vineyard that I actually drove a stake in the ground and now I own my cottage that I gladly call home. I've been a restless one, being frequently on the move but now I apparently have settled on adopting Waiheke as my home, believing gradually that my future lies here. Oh, I prefer the term boyfriend. Man-friend in that context sounds like I'm having it off with an elderly gentleman."

"So, you are fair game?"

"In a manner of speaking, but knowing me I'm sure that I'll have a big say with whom I bond with."

"Might it be me?"

Lola laughed lightly and said that was too difficult to answer because as of that moment they hadn't yet been on a date.

He said, a little shyly, "As you can guess, I flounder a bit when it comes to relating with nubile females."

Lola said all she could advise was for him to confidently push for what he wanted using everyday skills and to disperse with the bullshit.

Her date considered that and said, "By bullshit, do you mean, for example, don't send flowers?"

"Hell no, most women like and even love flowers but beyond that there's the possibly the consuming thought that becomes focused on the sender and if the flowers were sent as an expression of thanks or especially if with romantic intentions, then the relationship should lift a notch or two, even more."

"What, just over a bunch of flowers?"

"Ritchie, I say this as kindly as I can, are you missing a cog? Did I not just emphasise the significant on the intent behind the sending or giving of flowers?"

"Um, ah, yes you did but I was not aware that those words had particular significance."

"Are you a virgin, Ritchie?"

"Hell no."

"To put it indelicately, then how do you manage penetration?"

"Easy, the date is usually horny, or has had quite a few drinks or perhaps feels she's overdue for having sex.""

"Oh, I see. And there are a small number of females like that?"

"Lola, I say this with no intent of putting females down, the number of females like that including married ones, in my experience is by no means small."

"Oh, fuck. I had the impression that I knew everything about sexual relationships."

They laughed, with Ritchie saying carefully she had just said the word fuck.

"Yes, I sometimes use that word expressively and feel okay about that and occasionally I use the word arsehole and I think of using c-word on rare occasions when riled but usually manage to use an alternative abusive term instead."

"Wow, that's revealing."

Lola said he now knew she wasn't a nice young woman and Ritchie said coyly that he would be the judge of that.

"Now that's a perfect example of repartee that a female would almost certainly like to hear from a new guy."

"It is?"

"Absolutely, in most cases if the female is even half switched on."