Chapter 1
The lead story on P3 of Saturday's Wheat Belt & Farming News, published six days a week in the town of Springwater (which accounted for only a third of the newspaper's regional sales averaging 51,470 per issue), screamed:
'Kisser Bateman to Return Home Tuesday on Lear Jet'
The article mentioned that Mr Bateman, a former delivery boy on the WB&FN, got his nickname of Kisser at the co-ed Springwater High, because he amused himself gaining fitness by chasing girls around the playground.
Mr Bateman, winger and record points scorer for the Springwater High senior football team in three consecutive years, had left for university in Melbourne where he gained a Doctorate in Economics and had gone on to be engaged by a group of professional investors in London and then was headhunted by another group in Chicago, where he'd made his fortune.
Then most of the article waxed on about this would be the first time a civilian jet aircraft had ever landed at Springwater Airport. It stated that the Mayor Mrs Slyfield, accompanied by city dignitaries, would welcome Mr Bateman and particularly the crew of the aircraft.
The jet would fly direct to Springwater, NSW from Auckland, where Mr Bateman had been winding up a branch of his consultancy business.
The article then went into details of the medium range Lear Business Jet 60.
Bevan Bateman, who'd finished his bacon and eggs and had pushed his chair back so he could rest his boots on the kitchen table when skimming the newspapers while sipping his breakfast coffee, drawled to wife Diane who was shelling peas from her garden, "It says here Kevin flies in on Tuesday from New Zealand."
"Oh, he said something when I last spoke to him that he would be coming home soon to stay for good and he'd need to stay a couple of nights or so while he looked for permanent accommodation."
"Oh, that reminds me, I best change the sheets on his bed. He's such a fussy bugger. Why is the newspaper writing about him, because he's a multi-millionaire I suppose?"
"No, it doesn't mention that. I suppose it's because the aircraft he chartered is flying here direct from New Zealand."
"Don't people do that all the time?"
"No."
"Ah, well that is news I suppose."
A crowd of an estimated 10,000 people were at the airport mid-morning Tuesday to watch the jet land.
Mrs Slyfield, the Mayor, not using a microphone, welcomed the only passenger Kevin with a handshake and said "Hi Kisser."
He said, "Ah, Jane, you're the Mayor now. How's Jimmy?"
"Fit and well. He looks after me and is a good father to the boys. Well, I better go on to the dais to welcome the captain and first officer of his historic flight into our district. Oh, we are excited about your project and our departments have approved the working drawings ready to present to the full council to give the green light or reject it."
"If the project is rejected, there will be hell to play."
"My people and I are aware of that possibility but such pressure is invariable business pressure on us with projects, Kisser. Well, I must go. Lovely to meet you after that long lapse since our university days."
Kevin slipped away, marvelling that so many small-town hicks and the hordes of children would turn out to watch a plane land.
He hired a rental Mercedes and drove out to the farm, where his parents came out on to the porch of the homestead to welcome him.
"Hi mum, cor you've had your hair done."
"Yes, your father is taking us to the Cambridge Hotel as its restaurant remains the best formal eating place in town."
"Hi Kisser," said his dad Bevan, making his wife frown at the use of that nickname.
"Is the land rewarding you well, dad?" Kevin said, shaking hands and punching Bevan on the shoulders and noting the tough bugger didn't flinch.
"Prices are holding up well at present, which is good and the farm dams are up near max."
"How's Jen?"
Diane said, "We don't see her much these days. The baby was adopted out a couple of years ago. She's dining with us tonight and she'd manages the hotel and has reverted back to calling herself Jennifer."
"Is she still ultra-sexy?"
"I wouldn't know," Diane said stiffly. "I never see any woman in that undesirable sense."
"I think the word for it is desirable, mum."
Bevan chuckled and said, "Desirable it is. Paul Cartwright, who owns the hotel, leases out the restaurant and owns the grain store and Price Ford Motors, sleeps with your sister."
"Bevan, that was totally unnecessary information to divulge to your son."
"Whatever you say, Diane. Just don't expect me to agree with you in this instance."
That evening when arriving at the hotel, while his folk were in boring discussion to farming friends in the restaurant bar, Kevin slipped off to find his sister.
He said to the young receptionist that he wished to speak to Miss Bateman. She picked up the house phone and before dialling asked, "Who should I ask is calling sir?"
"Just tell her Kisser."
The receptionist gaped and said, "Oh really? My mother's younger sister used to talk about you a lot and still mentions you occasionally as being a legend.
"Oh really, what was her name?"
"Belinda Goldman nee Sawyers. I understand you used to romp with her and my mother.
"Apparently, you were almost my father."
"Nope, I used to go parking with your mum, that's all. Impregnating her was never on my mind."
The receptionist dialled and said, "Hi Jennifer, it's Ella. I have a hot-looking guy here who calls himself Kisser. Should I send him away. Oh, send him up. Okay."
Kevin went to the manager's suite at the back of the hotel wondering if he would meet the lover and possible adulterer.
When he knocked, Jen called she'd unlocked the door.
"Hi Jen, long time no see."
Kevin, I..."
"Siblings have license to call their siblings by nicknames or shortened names."