My Game of two Halves Ch. 02

As this was happening, a shadowing P8 reduced altitude swung into an approach that would enable it to launch its two missiles. The group were warned to desist and the factory ship to raise a white flag to prepare for a boarding a party. The P8 crew detected radar locking onto to the aircraft and were able to jam it. This was too late as the P8 had already locked onto the two closest Seiners who appeared to be armed. The air to ship missiles fired followed by two direct hits.

It was then the requested white flag was raised. The P8 detected no more radar and began to circle at low altitude waiting for the helicopters to arrive. The first NH90 arrived closely followed by the two Navy Seasprites who stood off to provide protection.

It was intended that the first boarding party rappel off the chopper to secure the ship and the second followed including a senior officer to take command off the ship. The second party included Robert. As they were rappelling a rogue crew member opened fired from the bridge area. Two were killed outright and Robert was wounded but landed heavily onto the deck.

A brief firefight occurred with fire continuing from the bridge area. Although injured, Robert stayed exposed protecting the rest of his men, a couple of who were injured. He dragged one to safety but then he shifted to draw the fire so the others could get the second soldier. Unfortunately he could not move out of the line of fire from the bridge and he was killed in a subsequent exchange of fire.

The skirmish ended when the boarding party was pulled back for cover and a chopper directed a rocket into the bridge area neutralizing all resistance. The ship was held until the naval patrol vessels arrived with all vessels redirected to Suva and impounded.

The papers were full of the heroism. A litany of jingoistic purple prose described Robert ignoring the noise of battle around him, the cacophony of automatic gunfire; the whiz of shrapnel sparking off the super structure as he crawled and dragged the soldier to safety only to sacrifice himself in order so that the others could be saved; finally dying with the acrid smell of battle lingering in the air.

How the journalists knew all this is anybody's guess as they certainly weren't there but the public lapped it up and Robert was the hero. There were calls that he should get a posthumous Victoria Cross. This was never to be as there were questions to why he was actively part of the action at all. There was a suggestion that he may have even disobeyed orders.

Robert was given a full military funeral. The saddest sight of my life was to see Major Mary at the head of the funeral procession dressed in her full ceremonial dress uniform topped with her lemon squeezer and red poppy attached to the red band. Her medals were arrayed on the left side of her chest and a pounamu (Greenstone) Hei Tiki at her neck . Her sword was held to her forehead as she slow marched the troops following her and the gun carriage with Roberts casket mounted and draped with the New Zealand flag behind.

. The drums gave a steady sombre beat. Major Mary passed me stoically looking straight ahead but the tears streaming down her cheeks. I am not ashamed to say the tears stained my cheeks as well.

I am not sure it was part of the program but I noticed ranks of troops in their day camouflage uniforms starting to form up blocking the procession. The procession stopped, there was silence then someone called out in Maori.

The troops answered and a haka began. Their stance initially akimbo they began to rhythmically slap their chests and punch the air. The grounds seem to shudder with the steady beat of their boots like some tectonic metronome. I knew the haka. They spoke of their forebears, the mud and the forest in which the fought.

The Haka was the ultimate respect by Robert's troops but it was also for Mary. She stood stiffly impassive at attention as the haka reached its crescendo then it finished with a collect Eeee! From the ranks stepped out a tattooed soldier dressed in the garb of a Maori warrior chief. Chanting as he approached Mary, he postured and gesticulated with a pounamu mere, a traditional Maori club.

Approaching Mary he stood eyeball to eyeball in front of her in respectful challenge, warrior to warrior. Then stepping back he carefully laid the mere at her feet. Leaving it there he returned chanting and posturing backwards to the ranks. Mary formally returned her sword to its scabbard then stooped down and pick up the mere and held it across her chest.

There was dead silence. Few in the general public would know of the exploits of this woman, they would know something of the public hero Robert, but every one of the troops here would know of Mary, what her medals meant and particularly what she had done in South Sudan.

Robert was the public hero, Mary the private heroine. The sheer poignancy of the situation almost caused me to breakdown but I was saved by the roll of the drums and the procession continued in slow march to the somber beat; this time Mary holding to her chest a weapon of high mana recognizing the respect that she herself held among her peers.

I turned to see Mary's parents holding on to Annie and Elsie. They seemed confused at the sight. They loved military parades but they had never seen one like this before. As Mary's Mother held up Annie she reached out a chubby little hand to me. "Uncle Vaughan, Uncle Vaughan, you have to be our Daddy now."

I was struck with acute embarrassment at the words of an innocent child. How possibly could I be worthy as a Daddy for this child, I was so utterly out of the league of these people I might as well be on another planet. I was so conscious of the time I had spent with them and was undeservedly honoured that the children had taken me to heart as part of the family.

A function was held later at the officer's mess. Mary wanted me to attend but I felt very much the outsider. I did know one or two of their military friends, Robert's father and his wife and of course Helen, the other god parent, was there. Mary's parents had left and elected to take care of the girls. It was during this function that I first met the infamous Brigadier Whitmore.

It began when Mary called me over. She had to endure the usual round of meetings and greetings with their attendant commiserations and platitudes. I guessed she needed some support but not being family I was feeling a bit awkward.

As soon as I appeared by her side the strong imposing Brigadier appeared with his wife. He was very tall with very short blonde hair. His nose was aquiline, a feature in a very handsome patrician visage. He moved in between us, rudely pushing me away with his back. Mary reached around and pulled me to her side. It was only then he took notice of me. Mary was saying, "Vincent I think you should meet Vaughan."

"I don't believe I have met you before, are you a relative?" He looked down at me as he said this. His manner was unfriendly and even disdainful.

"Oh, I am one of the girl's godparents along with Helen, over there." I gestured toward Helen who was nearby but part of another conversation. I was taken back at the Brigadier's reaction immediately turning to Mary expressing his anger.

"I didn't know you had the girls christened. You never even invited me."

I was stunned. Mary wasn't. She stood her ground, she was obviously expecting this. I looked at the Brigadier's wife who was obviously amused, smirking to herself behind her husband. I had no idea what the Brigadiers personal relationship was with Mary's family was but I had the distinct feeling he thought he should be a god parent.

Mary's reply to the Brigadier was, "Vaughan has become a very close and supportive friend. He is very good with the girls who absolutely dote on him. It was the wish of Robert and I that he would be the most appropriate Godparent along with Helen."

The brigadier just grunted and walked away in what appeared to be huff with his smirking wife trailing along behind him.

"What on earth was that all about?" I said as the Brigadier disappeared into the crowd.

"Oh nothing you need worry about", said Mary enigmatically, "It is something that goes back a while. I think the Brigadier believes he has some proprietary rights over my family."

I thought about what Robert had said about the Brigadier but didn't know how I could bring it up. I let it ride and determined to just keep a watching brief on this Brigadier.

I don't think there is script for the following few weeks. It did not seem right for me to be seen hovering around a woman whose husband had just died; especially one who was a national hero with his family very much exposed in the public realm by the media.

I continued as the architect; which meant the regular dinners continued. When the building started, there were also the site visits. I have to say Mary had her money's worth with the time I spent on supervision. Did I say money's worth? I asked her not to pay me when the construction started but she insisted.

I was always conscious of the strong feeling I was developing toward her. I spent more and more of my time thinking about her, I literally did not feel worthy of her. She would catch me staring at her. It became almost a game as I would catch her doing the same thing to me. It got to a head when one day we both looked at each other and burst out laughing. That's about when she brought up the subject of dinner for just the two of us.

I chose the restaurant. I chose a very expensive up market one. I don't know whether it was appropriate but I wanted to. It wasn't that I wanted to impress her, it just seemed like it was going to be an occasion that both of us for better or worst would never forget.

I was at home freshening up and getting changed after a day slaving over a hot computer terminal. It was the point at which I was shaving. I had slapped some gel and had worked up lather, as I was beginning to run the razor over my cheek I was thinking about Mary's Father.

Since meeting him I had a sense of déjà vu about the name Hollis beyond his position in the architectural world. Staring at my face, a thought brought my shaving to a halt. Ignoring the foam dipping from my face I rushed back into my bedroom and took my old childhood photo album off the shelf. Flicking through my old school photos there was my class from when I was 10 years old and there sitting in the bottom row and toward the left was a little dark haired girl who I knew as Leigh Hollis.

At the restaurant Mary and I were comfortably into our meal and were between courses. I cannot even remember what we were eating but I remember that I, and perhaps we, had more wine that we should have. I had been mulling over the name Leigh Hollis. In a pause in our conversation the earlier thought came to mind. "I discovered today that I was at school with a girl named Leigh Hollis whose father was an architect. Did you have a sister or something named Leigh who went to Rosewood primary?"

"It was me."

"What. Where did the name Leigh come from?"

"It was my second name but I was called Leigh because, I think, I liked it better. My Parents always called me Mary but it has only since I was in the Military that I was relaxed about anyone else calling me that."

"Do you know that you were the first girl that ever kissed me?"

"You are kidding, if that is true, that is so cute. What happened?"

"I was a bit of a nerd in those days. We had a class project and I designed and built a model of a house I dreamed up. I used to do a bit of modelling for an electric train set I had. Any way I got top marks.

I remember you were not at Rosewood long but when you arrived the boys thought you were the prettiest girl so when we had dances they would always rush and pick you. I was always too shy to even try. I used to get bullied a bit by the other guys for being a nerd. They called me professor."

Mary's eyes lit up, "Hey I do remember you, that was just before we went overseas."

"Yeah, and I remember the day you left. You came to my house out of the blue, I was in the garden with Mum and you walked straight up to us and I can remember to this day your exact words. You said 'my Dad saw your model and he thought it was brilliant and that you will make a fine architect one day. I have come here to tell that you must become an architect. I can't be your girlfriend now because we are going to London but when I get back I want you to be an architect and I will marry you.' With that you kissed me smack on the mouth, turned around and walked away and I never saw you again.

Do you know, I never even really knew what an architect was until then and since then I never aspired to be anything else.'

I looked up at Mary and she was crying. "I have never heard anything so cute in all my life. What an incredible coincidence. I do remember it. I can't remember what I said. I know I had been looking at you for the six months I was at the school. We girls always knew you would be someone one day and we all talked about you but you were so shy. When I was away I used to write letters to you but I never had the courage to send them."

That changed the whole dynamic of the evening; in fact it changed our lives. At the table we found ourselves leaning toward each other chatting glancing up at each other from time to time as though there was some magnetic attraction we were trying to resist. Our conversation continued by reminiscing about our days and the personalities at Rosewood Primary.

Mary leaned across the table; I noticed she had begun furtively touching me when the opportunity had arisen. Prior to this and since the funeral it seemed like that we would physically repel when we got at close quarters. Tonight this was different, there was no shrinking back. Restraint though was still there, touching would be subtle and light until she reached across the table. I saw the invitation and my hand met hers. Mary looked directly into my eyes. Yesterday I would have flinched and looked away. Tonight our yes met in a steady gaze. Mary broke the silence.

"I want to say that I love you and have loved you from almost the first time we met."

I was astounded and didn't know what to say. Mary didn't seem bothered even though I was opening and closing my moth struggling to produce some coherent words.

Finally I blurted, "What about Robert?"

"You know he is...was gay."

"You seemed to love each other."

"Devoted to each other is the word...devoted to each other. He was and still is the true father of my children."

"Did Robert know you were in love with me?"

"Yes, we talked about it."

"What did he think about it?"

"I think he was in love with you as well."

Suddenly some of the behavior on our fishing trip fell into place.

A sadness swept over me; another silence.

I spoke, "I believe I am in love with you myself. I don't know much about these things but I think about you all the time. You gave me such comfort and hope after my loss of Georgia but I feel somewhat inadequate in your presence. I am not only in love with you; I am in awe of you."

"But I am in awe of you. I have watched you sketch and create; what you produce on the computer. Do you know my father told me that in terms of skill you are the greatest Architect he has met? He has been watching your new work and he says you are getting better if that is possible."

I blushed with the flattery; suddenly my self-doubt seemed to evaporate. This is how she, Mary sees me. I knew how important her father was to her. The affirmation was important if our relationship was to grow. My emotions tumbled over as the pressure was now on to sustain her expectations.

"Why did Robert remain in the closet? The army celebrates diversity in this day and age."

"It wasn't the army. It was his father. He was always seeking the approval from his father that he never felt he received."

"So he married you to keep up appearances? Isn't that a little unfair of him."

"No, I was a willing participant. He was the finest leader I have met; He was supremely intelligent and charismatic. The relationship was not without love but the sex was difficult."

"You had two daughters."

"Yes but what led to them was not fulfilling."

"Did you both have other same sex relationships?"

"I never did and do not believe he did while we were married. We were both very loyal and duty bound to each other. A sacrifice perhaps but it was not dissimilar to the life to devote to the army."

"You have not had a lesbian relationship, then?"

"You are thinking like we were both gay and married for appearances."

"Maybe, I don't mean it as an insult; I am just trying to understand. It is outside my field of experience."

"Before I was married I did try to have sex with another woman. It is not wholly uncommon in the army. She was obviously quite keen on me. We had been drinking and I guess she seduced me in my room. I went down on her and when I smelt her pussy I spontaneously vomited on to her. Never ever again; no, I am a straight as a die. If you are thinking of having a three way you are plumb out of luck buster," She teased.

I was a little taken aback. This was the first reference that we could have sex.

"What about Robert, did he have sex with other guys before you were married?"

"Yes, he did so. It started when he was at boarding school. He did have other relationships with women but I never imagine they got very intimate. The Army and I are really a result of the need to please his father. You know you are going to have to come to terms with him yourself. Robert's father absolutely dotes on the girls"

This was a reference to the possibility of a future together. Mary was now taking our relationship as a fait accompli. I didn't mind; when I realized what she had said I felt a sudden involuntary thrill. The consequences though would include his father. How would I measure up to an old fashioned religious and military alpha male?

I needn't have worried. I think, because I was an Architect of some skill I was not in competition with him and I was someone he could brag about. Being arty-farty is obviously exempt form alpha maleness. But there was the issue of the church. I was a god father and thereby had some duties. From my side I am agnostic and I really couldn't have cared if he was Muslim or a Parsee but in a show of respect for him and to gain respect from him I did attend church with him from time to time. I made it clear to him that I would not give myself over to the church.

He understood but appreciated my effort to the point that in our relationship I did not see the signs of the ogre that seem to have haunted Robert. I was told some years later that for all Robert's accomplishments and sacrifice he respected me more than his own son. It was something that made me very sad.

Mary and I evolved closer to one another. We did not suddenly throw ourselves into each other arms. Mary was a widow with two daughters and a history. I was still damaged from my relationship with Georgia. We were not two teenagers. I did not have a model for how we were to behave and the sex seemed to be the biggest hurdle. As a result we did not go out in public as a rule. I was to learn later that there were other reasons for that.

The house had initially been finished and there was a lot of landscaping to do. We could have employed someone but I had an urge to do it myself. Somehow I needed an excuse to stay over every weekend. I seemed to make the work harder for myself as some kind of sex substitute.

Things changed one summer morning. I was completing a retaining wall and was shoveling fill hard.

I was dressed in just brief shorts and boots and incongruently for a hot day, heavy socks. I have a relatively hairless torso and pretty muscular for someone in a sedentary profession. At the time I was heavily tanned from the work in the sun I had been doing. I was sweating profusely as I was shoveling. I was periodically spitting out a lank of hair that kept falling across my face and I was thinking that it was time for a haircut. I became conscious that Mary had come and sat on a raised vegetable bed overlooking where I was shoveling.