The OWLS Club

The OWLS Club

The story is about a group of people, an actual place, and a dream. While having a none too subtle dig at society in general. This is a work of pure fiction. None of the characters are real people, nor do they represent real people. It is a slow burn, a lot of romance and some gratuitous sex for those who need to get off on it. It is based in Australia so I have used local language. There is some Italian and French conversations, so if you want to really become attached to the characters I strongly recommend you use a google translator. It will help with the flow of the conversations. As I use the Queen's English, I will apologise in advance to my American friends for the correct spelling of some words.

Some of the place names are correct.

There is no underage sex involved.

Part 1 -- A vacancy & Blue Prints

The property at number 7 Divitt Street, Port Adelaide had been in my family since it was built by them in 1863. It consists of two floors and a cellar. It was built of a local stone, as was the norm back then. It was suggested at various time that the cellar hid secret passages to the wharf, so smugglers could move their contraband unseen by the local constabulary. In fact no such passages were ever found so maybe they didn't exist, according to our family records and the original blue prints. I did bother to go looking, as a child, but even with my vivid imagination, I couldn't find them, if they ever existed at all.

First it was a shipping office, for the Melbourne Steamship Company, which it was named after. Then a logistics office, then a cartage merchant and finally in 1911 a solicitors office. It remained so, and the same firm of solicitors had been the sole leasee since that time.

As the current family matriarch it fell to me to look after and control the family businesses as is my want. Who am I, I hear you ask? I am Kathleen Ambrose. There is no board of directors, or any such thing, it was purely a family held group of businesses in and around the Port of Adelaide.

Along with myself I have a brother, who I consulted with from time to time. We aren't exactly close but along with his two children and their broods that was all the family I have. They enjoy some benefits of course and in time when I am no longer around one of those will take over.

Yes it had made us wealthy, the rents were not cheap in the Port, but then again the maintenance on these old buildings, so close to the river, was somewhat extensive and expensive.

Life was good for our family. The family name was well respected and we were considered to be 'good people'. We supported local sporting clubs, and charities. Held annual events on the river, rowing, sailing and we supported the local 'Save Our Dolphins group.'

Opening a letter from Cahill & Sons Solicitors, was not uncommon, they wrote to us frequently, listing the number of repairs that needed doing. Old man Cahill, was in his eighties now and his letter stated that as his sons and nephews were only interested in working in the city, they were going to relocate their offices and would not be continuing with the lease after it expires at the end of the next month.

"Bugga" I said quietly to myself, not that we needed their rent but it was reliable and they were never late. I picked up the phone and rang the old man.

I could have rang his mobile number but I knew he wouldn't answer it. So using the land line I rang his switchboard. A pretty voice answered the phone. She got halfway through her opening spiel before I interjected. "Hello Carol, sorry to cut you off, it's Kathleen Ambrose here, for Horace, please."

"Yes Miss Ambrose, just one moment please." Came the reply.

"Morning Kathleen." The old man said, he was still bright and cheery for an 86year old. "Sorry I didn't ring in advance, but I clean forgot after I wrote that darn letter. Hope it doesn't inconvenience you too much sweet lady?"

Horace was a charmer, I'm sure he would have been a handful in his youth. I had known him all of my adult working life, which means I have known him for 42 years. Always the gentleman. Old world charm, mixed with impeccable manners, a sharp wit and a glorious sense of timing. To picture him, think of Winston Churchill, but better looking and far more polite.

"Horace" I replied, "There is nothing you could do that would inconvenience me." I told him. "We will be sorry to see you go and I will miss our monthly lunch at Carmines." I told him. "You do know there is nothing stopping you from driving down from the city to join me for lunch is there?"

"Kathleen, nothing stopping me other than I am going to be working from home, up in the hills from now on. So the boys can have the swish city offices, and clientele, while I will look after my old favourite clients from home" He told me.

"I will miss you my dear old friend" I replied.

"Enough of the old thank you." He retorted.

We said our goodbyes and promising to keep in touch, which would be harder now of course.

And that is how Ambrose House at number 7 Divett Street in the Port became vacant.

I took my time to talk to the local Real Estate agents, just to see what the market was like. Everyone offered their services. I was just as happy to leave it until it was empty then have a good look around to see what we could do with it. Besides I had a real estate agent that worked for me, but I like to keep people on their toes.

Talking with my brother Terence, he had some ideas, to turn them into 2 apartments and to sell each floor off while maintaining ownership of the actual building. I did give that some serious thought. Or just convert them into apartments and rent them out. I learnt we could triple the current lease, it seems living in these older buildings had become rather vogue. And Port Adelaide was definitely an up and coming sort after post code to be seen in.

I found the old blue prints, which were totally useless, the changes that had been made in a 159 years made the original blueprints pointless, unless as my niece, Miriam and her gorgeous daughter Emily, suggested, we turn them into some wall art. I laughed, and chuckled to myself.

"I tell you what Emily my love, you can have them on the proviso that you don't sell them off. You may do with them what you wish." I told them. They smiled and thanked me.

I engaged a local architect to draft up some plans and costing to convert each floor. I knew it wouldn't be cheap but was totally shocked when the preliminary costs came in. Again this architect was no ordinary architect. Erica had made herself a wonderful reputation, she had succeeded in a profession that was dominated by men, in the world of architecture a woman is someone who sat at the front desk and answered phones. I had used Erica Wilson and associates, exclusively since I first met her, some ten years before.

To look at she reminded me of Tina Louise who played Ginger on Gilligan's Island, stunningly beautiful. She was a red head, pale skin, freckles, over her nose, tall and slim for a person in her late 30's. Well-spoken and well presented. Listens, didn't need to take notes, excellent memory, could offer an opinion without offending and was a very likeable person.

The first job I gave her was a small job to convert some small old shops, circa 1950's into something more modern and a place where up and coming professionals would want to work and been seen. She nailed it with her first sketches, did a full costing and building schedule, engaged the builder, brought it in on time and on budget, that in itself impressed me, then got her friend Anita Reynolds from the Real Estate Markets, Pty Ltd, to get them leased. I didn't have to do a thing, except pay the bill. Which I did, willingly.

I said to the architect, Erica "Oh wow, did you put an extra digit on the end of this or something?"

She smiled at me and explained. "My fees will come later." She said with a smirk and a wink.

"Most of the costs will be in the separate plumbing and electricity supply. Each apartment would need their own title, hence their own sewage and water and electrical board. Which means upgrading the street, apparently sewage and electricity it is almost at maximum now and these two apartments would send it over the limit. If you want to blame someone, blame those warehouse conversations down the other end of the street. They took up most of the free space two years ago. So Kathleen my love, guess what, you would be up for the complete upgrade of the street."

I looked at the costs again, and then did some mental arithmetic, even if we took out a loan, which we would get at a rock bottom rate, money is cheap at the moment. It would still mean the cost of each apartment if we were to sell them would put them well over the 2.5 million dollar mark. And that would only give us a small mark up. At a time when property is getting a premium price, that wasn't a good deal.

"Can you get Anita from the Real Estate market on speaker for me, please?"

I somehow knew Erica would have her on speed dial, and a quick flick of a few buttons had the phone ringing at the other end.

As I heard the phone being picked up after just two rings, Erica jumped in first. "Annie my sweet, you are on speaker. I'm here with Kathleen Ambrose." I was surprised by the use of her pet name for Anita. Annie was always Erica's way of using Anita's name as a term of endearment. Unusual I know but that was our Erica through and through.

Silence for a couple of seconds, she then put on her business voice. "Hi Kathleen, what do I owe the pleasure?"

I inwardly smiled, knowing these two were very close, "Hi Anita, I need to pick your brains on the going rate of upmarket apartments in the Port."

"OK" came the reply, "what's the address. " She asked.

"Divett Street, if we go ahead with it?" I told her.

"That's a good location, right in the middle of the wining and dining area. How big are they going to be?" Anita enquired.

I looked at Erica who jumped in, "375squ meters each, off street parking for 2 vehicles each, single door entrance, front and back, fully secured and no lift." Anita was told. "One ground floor and a first floor."

"Sounds nice, and all up market fittings." She asked again. To which Erica replied, "Yes and clients choice of decor and layout."

"OK so it will be sold off the plan then." Anita wanted to know. "Most likely, with a 6 to 8 month build time, Annie just a ball park figure hon, we are just crunching numbers at the moment I promise we won't hold you to it."

"Promise Anita." I chipped in, I was going to use Erica's pet name for her but thought better of it. After all it was Erica's to use, not mine.

Without missing a beat she continued, I heard her pounding away on a key board, most likely a calculator, "OK current market trends I would say start at 1.6 and it might go up to 1.9, 2 if the Chinese want them and get involved."

I rolled my eyes and my demeanor changed.

"What would I need to do to get them over 2.75 or 3?" I asked in a more business tone of voice.

"Sorry Kathleen, the market isn't there yet, I don't think there is anything you could do."

"What a bugga, hey. Oh well it was worth thinking about." I told them both. "Thank you for your help you two, I owe you both a lunch."

Erica picked up the phone and spoke quietly to Anita, "Dinner tonight at Carmines, OK what about the British then. Tell you what, you make up your mind then call me back when you are ready OK." She put the phone down rather sharply. Stood over her desk and then apologised to me.

"Sorry about that."

I could see the hurt in her eyes.

"No need to apologise, we've all been there at different times." I explained to her.

"Is she unsure about you or about herself?" I asked.

"I think she is worried it might harm her business if it became common knowledge." She stated.

"What we need is a place of our own. We need a place that no one cares who or what you are. Where us girls can just go and relax." She explained.

Again I just looked at her hurt and nodded, this girl had fallen hard.

"Ah" I said. "A perfect world, where love is love and we are all blinded by the love of two people, heh?"

"Back to business" I told her. "Put this in the too hard basket for now. I might just clean it up and seek some sort of business tenants."

I watched as she rolled up the drawings and filled them away in her plans rack. She went up on her tippy toes and I watched as her skirt pulled tight over her backside and thought to myself, 'what woman wouldn't want to have dinner with you, you cutie'.

When she came back to her desk, she shuffled some papers and put them into the 'AMBROSE' file and listed it as 7D. She had quite a few of our properties she had work on. A very competent architect was our Erica.

"Since you are free tonight, I am catching up with a few of the girls and we are going to share a few bottles of wine with Swifty in her wine Bar. Join us. You will enjoy yourself, and trust me nobody will care less who or what you are. But be warned, we do get loud and enjoy carrying on. 7pm don't be late and no I won't accept a negative answer." I told her.

She smiled and nodded, "OK 7 o'clock it is."