Dudes Down Under (8 page)

The guests were obviously having fun. Much laughter and flexing of beautiful muscles was taking place. The atmosphere was clearly very relaxed.

Charlie Danvers made his first social appearance since his arrival, much to the delighted approval of the Aussie staff. He was the most famous export they had. Many of the staff were calling out, “Hey, Charlie, onya mate! Show ’em how it’s done, Charlie.”

Lucy was surprised to see Ed Guest amongst the selected team. She hadn’t expected the disdainful Mr. Guest to join in anything resembling fun.

“
Righto, fellas,” Didi said. “We seem to have the right numbers. Who is gonna be the anchorman?”

“
That’d be me, mate,” Charlie spoke up, clearly pleased to be able to use his own accent for a change.

“
Okay, form up behind the team leader, boys, and let’s get this show on the road. Staff team, ready? Great stuff. The first team over the line and into the puddle loses. Good luck, everyone. Start on the whistle. Ready … go!”

And go they did. The A team began well and the staffers were obviously surprised at the strength of these guys. Why they were surprised went back to the Aussie macho thing. Silly assumption, really. These actors had to stay fit and tight muscled, if they wanted work, that is.

The A team’s support crew were screaming and catcalling good and loud. Led by Lana Peters, they began chanting, “Go, Yanks, go …Go, Yanks, go. Show these Aussies it’s not all show.”

The Aussie support team, not to be outdone, created their own masterpiece. “Aussies rock and Aussies roll. Show these Yankees we’ve got soul!”

The teams were evenly matched. It would have to come down to who tired first. The vocal backing got louder and louder.

The contest was a draw, after extra time. A rematch was scheduled for the next week. The boys from both groups ended up in the mud, just for the hell of it. The chilled booze was a great way to cool off after Skeet and Ginny hosed everybody down. Ginny, of course, had volunteered for the job, together with almost every other female on the large staff.

Lucy rigged the vote on that one. She thought Ginny deserved it after spending much of the past two days unconscious on the reception floor.

The mud puddle was replenished and a half hour wait was decided on, the Yank team enjoying a few more refreshments before the girls took on the Aussie female staffers.

They had already picked their teams. Lucy and Doc were not the only ones that would be watching this one carefully. Lana Peters and Tristan Jones had had a brief discussion. Whatever was said, he had tried to talk Izzy out of competing. However the beautiful woman had made up her mind. There was no way she’d give his ex the luxury of thinking she couldn’t cut it.

Didi went once more to the microphone. “Well, the last event was a tie. C’mon, ladies, show these boys we can do better. Both teams assemble on your sides of the pond. Ready and, on my whistle … go!”

The guest’s team, made up in order of rope position, comprised of Lana Peters, Vanessa Dayton, Izzy Jones, Karen Brown, Kylie Andrews, and Terri Writer, with Ms. Sheridan’s P.A., Carol Hillier, bringing up the rear as their anchor. The woman was built like a Sumo wrestler.

Just as the whistle blew, Kylie swapped places with Karen Brown, placing herself directly behind her ex-husband’s new wife. What was even stranger was Karen Brown. She jumped in front of Izzy Jones and directly behind Vanessa Dayton, her own husband’s ex.

Tony Brown said, “Oh fuck, no, Karen!”

Lana Peters said, “Uh-oh!”

Vanessa Dayton smiled serenely and said nothing.

Izzy Jones said, “Bring it on, bitch.”

Kylie Andrews said, “Can you breathe underwater?”

The whistle blew.

Lucy whispered, “Oh shit!”

Skeet replied with, “Yep, I think it might go that way, Luce.”

The ladies were really getting into the feel of the thing. The men were doing a fine loud job of cheering them on. The females from the A team were pulled into the edges of the puddle but managed to regain ground before the second member on the rope hit the water. That was the lose position and so far close, but no cigars.

Somehow Izzy Jones lost her string bikini top, which none of the men were complaining about. If the bitch behind her thought that this would cause her to quit and look like a sore loser, she was very much mistaken. Her childish attempt to embarrass Izzy succeeded only in making people aware of what a truly great set of tits Izzy had, and congratulate her for being a great sport.

Cyril lay watching with interest.
I could mud wrestle ‘em free. I’d win too. C’mon, Dudes team! Oh my! That can’t be good. Why is that Kylie Andrews person undressing Izzy Jones? Is that in the rules? Can I play too?

Karen Brown shoved her knee hard into the back of Vanessa Dayton’s legs, causing her to fall face down in the mud. Lana Peters lost her balance as a result. Karen fell on top of Vanessa. She yanked hard on Vanessa’s long hair and screamed as loud as she could, “Oh, I am so so sorry, I must have slipped.”

Vanessa climbed out from under, still smiling. She made much of giving Karen a forgiving hug, and whispered in her ear, “Touch me again like that, you stupid cow, and I'll rip your fucking eyes out.”
 
She smiled and ensured that she gave the perplexed bystanders a huge laugh.

Tony Brown strode across to his wife. He grabbed her by the hand. He then shoved her under the hose. The clearly unhappy man left her standing there, dripping wet, as he stomped off in the direction of the Swamp.

Tristan looked fit to be tied. Lucy was very concerned that this bitchy rivalry could get nasty.

Lana Peters walked hurriedly over to Tristan. “Whoa, there, hot-stuff. Take it easy. Izzy handled that like a trouper. You’ll only make the ex worse if you rip her apart in front of everyone. Leave it alone, Tris. Trust me, Kylie will play even dirtier if she’s humiliated. Besides, she actually made Izzy come outta this lookin’ real good.”

Tristan ran his hands through his thick blond hair. He was clearly not impressed but he saw the sense in what Lana had said. He gave that bone-melting smile, and relaxed.

Lana looked around, hoping to see Karen. She caught sight of her hurrying back in the direction of the bungalows.

Vanessa Dayton poured herself a large glass of chilled Moët and sat in the shade of a cabana.

Lucy wanted to get up and hug Lana Peters. She reminded herself to say a private thank you later.

The remaining contests were hugely enjoyed. The guests wandered back to their bungalows to shower and change, with
 
Didi’s reminder of a very casual dance to be held after a large Aussie style Bar-B-Q.

Cyril was a little confused.
These humans are strange. I’ve never seen Lucy take her clothes off in public. I wouldn’t be seen running around without my t-shirt. Izzy Jones looked ... um … interesting. I wonder what those things are for. Maybe they’re just decoration ... unless they are a weapon. Nyah, they looked too squishy to be a defense. Oh boy, I hope she does it again at the dance.

Chapter 8

“
Will you stop complainin’? It's a bloody dance, mate. You gotta look good. Now, hold still. There, that’s better, Cyril. Go and have a look at yourself in the mirror, mate. The tux t-shirt looks bloody smart."

Whatever you say, Skeet. I won’t get to dance with those beautiful women anyways. It’s soooo unfair. I didn’t ask to be born a bloody crocodile. Hmmm, hey Skeet, this looks pretty damn spiffy, mate. Sexy, hey?

“
Good. Ya smilin’. Told ya that ya looked good. I dunno what the hell I’m gonna wear.
 
Whadya reckon, Cyril? Gimme one grunt for the new pants and the white shirt and two grunts for the tight jeans and muscle shirt. Well, c’mon, whadya think?"

Must we do this every damned time? Very well, I’ll do the grunt thing. It’s terribly undignified, you know.

"Don’t be bloody difficult. That was three grunts.”

Oh, clever you. Of course it was three grunts, you moron. I want you to wear the new pants with the muscle shirt. Do I have to do everything around here? You are such a clod when it comes to dress sense. I’ll have to show you. Here …

“
Now what are ya doin'? Oh, I get it. All right, put it down, I getcha. So … new pants and, what, the muscle shirt?"

Yes, dumbo. I’ll never teach you good taste. Why do I even bother?

“
Thanks for the input, mate.”

Whatever.

“
We better get crackin’, mate. It’s time.”

No shit, Sherlock. I must find out what that means. I like the sound of this Sherlock person, whoever he is. These Yanks have some strange sayings.

*  *  *

“
Ginny, honey, can I ask you something?”

“
Yes, yes you can. Anything, Miss Peters.”

“
Well first up, girlfriend, you gotta call me Lana, okay? Don’t you dare faint! It’s just my name, sweetie.”

“
Lana - got it. Lana. Ask away.”

“
Who owns this place, Ginny? Any ideas? Is it a corporation or a multi-national conglomerate?”

“
You know something, I don’t have a clue. We’ve been tryin’ to find out ourselves since day one.”

“
Does anybody know? I mean, who pays you for instance?”

“
Lucy must know. She runs this place. But we always get paid right on time into our bank accounts. If we want cash, we use the cash-teller facility on the mainland. We don’t have to buy anything here, it’s all provided."

“
That’s one mighty generous boss.”

“
It’s part of the reason we all love workin’ here. The pay and the conditions more than make up for living away from the mainland.”

“
So, all the staff live here on the island?”

“
Yes, we all do.”

“
This is some amazing place. Oh yeah, um, Ginny, I found a purse with the only identification as Bungalow 1 North. Who is in that one, honey? Can you find out for me so I can return it?”

“
Oh, that’s easy, I know them all off by heart. Kylie Andrews is in 1 North.”

“
Kylie Andrews? Er-hem, Kylie Andrews. Er, thanks, Ginny. You have been such a help.”

“
Anything for you Ms. … Lana.” Ginny beamed with delight. Who was ever gonna believe she was on first name terms with Lana Peters?

Lucy had come in and joined them, pleased that Lana was sitting with her biggest fan.

“
Lucy, I’ll try askin’ you what I just asked little Ginny girlfriend. Who owns this place?
 
C’mon, girlfriend, you’re the manager, you gotta know.”

“
Yes, I do know. It would cost me my job if I divulged that information.”

“
Hell, sorry. I wouldn’t want that to happen. Why is it such a secret? Can I ask that?”

“
The entire place is privately owned, Lana, all of it. The owner is a very private person. It’s as simple as that.”

“
One man owns all … all this?”

“
Yes. One person owns the whole shebang.”

“
Phew, girlfriend. That’s heavy-duty money!”

“
If you say so, Lana. Enough of this serious stuff. Are you game to try our Aussie cuisine?”

Lana Peters gave her a soft smile and shrugged. She hadn’t given up. But, for now, it was fun time. “I’m not sure. What does crocodile taste like, Lucy?”

“
To be totally fair, I have no idea. Every time I think of trying it myself, I look at Cyril and change my mind.”

“
God, I love you Aussies. How honest is that?”

“
I’m told it tastes like a cross between chicken and fish. I can recommend the roo, marinated in red wine and spices. It’s very tasty. However, I’m very spoilt. I love seafood. The seafood here is the best I’ve ever eaten anywhere in the world.”

“
You've won me. I’m a seafood girl myself. Yeah, see food and eat it, that’s me.”

“
Groan, Lana, that’s so old!”

“
Heh-heh, ain’t that the truth? Honey, I have tried every diet known to man. I just can’t maintain the discipline. Everything else in my life I have total control over, but when it comes to food ... nada, zilch, zippo … forget-about-it.”

“
Well, let’s just wait and see. After a month in the sunshine and fresh air, and plenty of exercise, you may just surprise yourself.”

“
Dream on, girlfriend.”

Lucy turned to Ginny who was still sitting transfixed with every word her idol was saying, “Ginny, will you excuse us for a moment?”

“
Huh?”