Benworden (24 page)

Mr Porto was beginning to regain his composure and he put his hands on his hips and said, “As you can see, Mr Kinsella, we keep a very clean kitchen!”

I swung around and glared fiercely at him. He glanced at the ground nervously for a few minutes, and this allowed me enough time to pull a dead cockroach from my jacket pocket without him seeing. Holding it between my forefinger and thumb I replied, “Then what is this? Dried prune with legs?”

Mr Porto's face went quite red. He was speechless.

I put the bug closer to his face and said, “Well, what is it?”

He meekly murmured, “A cockroach?”

I glared at him again and said, “Yes, a cockroach! So what's it doing here?”

He began stumbling over his own words and replied, “I honestly don't know. We've never had one in our kitchen before. I, I, I...”

Before he could complete his sentence I jumped in with, “A likely story!” I turned and walked at an even pace straight towards the side exit door. Just as I reached the door I swiftly turned and said, “I'm sorry Mr Porto, but I will have to report this and I will have to shut down your premises till further notice!”

Mr Porto said, “I don't understand. This has never happened, not since the day we opened, and I promise you it
won't happen again. But we need to stay open! What can I say or do to change your mind?”

I was feeling a little sorry for him at this stage but I had to keep up the façade if I was to complete my side of our project, so I said to him, “Mr Porto! You're not offering me a bribe, are you?”

“No, no! That's not what I meant! I just thought you would reconsider and I would show you how grateful I am.”

I looked him up and down and said, “Well, that sounds like a bribe to me, but now that you mention it, Lucas – you don't mind me calling you Lucas, do you?”

Mr Porto nearly jumped out of his skin as he said, “No, no, not at all. In fact I insist on it. Now tell me what you need. Anything, anything at all.”

By the time I finished at the restaurant Mr Porto said he would treat my friends to a night they would never forget. I warned him if this was repeated to anyone he could expect another visit and he was quick to assure me it would never leave his lips. I also told him if Mr Neals or Miss James were to ask who did this for them he was to tell them it was a secret admirer of both of them.

The stage was now set for a great evening.

That night back at Benworden Bonnie and Gerry designed and made two black invitation cards which had written on them in gold, “I would like you to join me at the Golden Clover on Saturday at 7pm. I have arranged a lift for you shortly before then from your house and I have also asked a friend of yours to join us. I am a secret admirer of the work you and your friend do and I hope you won't hesitate in accepting my invitation. PS, this isn't a prank. If you ring the restaurant they
will confirm your booking. Kindest regards, a secret admirer.”

Saturday finally arrived and we held a meeting at the park down the road to make sure everything was running smoothly. It didn't take long to confirm that everyone knew what they had to do. Apparently Sean had been working on his own little project as well: he had given Brian a carnation for Mr Neals, and had given Carla a corsage to present to Miss James.

Gerry smiled and said, “Aren't they beautiful! Are they silk, Sean?”

Sean replied, “Yes, but better than that. Remember that camera I invented to catch those bullies out? Well guess what. We're going to be able to watch the whole evening unfold.”

This was better than anything I could have dreamed of, not only knowing we were doing something good for two people who had given us all so much but also being able to see their faces when they were rewarded for their kindness.

Everything went smoothly Saturday. Carla had made sure Miss James had her total make-over, and both store keepers played their parts at giving Mr Neals and Miss James the run of their shops without them becoming suspicious of what was going on. It had been a very warm day but a cool breeze sprung up in the afternoon setting the stage for a perfect evening.

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D
inner at Benworden on a Saturday evening was a casual affair. The only structured times were dinner from 5.30pm to 7.30pm and bedtime no later than 11.00pm for seniors and 10pm for juniors.

It was a matter of just grabbing whatever the leftovers were from that week and then doing your own thing. The supervisors knew that most of the boarders had filled themselves up on junk food through the day and were never really hungry on Saturday nights so it was all very laid back.

After an early dinner we staggered our exits and headed for our rooms, or so we informed our supervisors, but in reality each of us had taken the elevator down to the club rooms and headed straight for the monitoring room. There were four monitors in operation that evening. Two were set up to oversee the boys' and girls' dorms in case the supervisors were to check on any of the club members. This would normally be very rare but we thought it was better to be safe than sorry. The other two monitors were receiving pictures and sound from Mr Neals' carnation and Miss James' corsage.

Harry's timing was impeccable and as he turned the monitors on we had a very clear picture of the coach and horses pulling up out the front of Mr Neals' house. After much debate we had worked out that Mr Neals must have been standing peering out of his floor-to-ceiling windows in his lounge room. We realised he had been extremely shocked when the carriage
pulled up outside and the driver disembarked because we heard him say out loud, “Surely this can't be my lift!”

By the time the driver had reached the front step, Mr Neals was leaning against the door frame with his arms crossed as if he had been there for some time enjoying the summer evening.

The coach driver said to Mr Neals, “Excuse me sir, would you be Mr Neals?”

And he replied, “Mr Neals I would be.”

The driver's expression hadn't changed at Mr Neals' attempt at humour and he said, “If you would like to follow me, Sir, your coach awaits you.”

He followed the driver down the pathway to the carriage and the driver opened the coach door with one hand while keeping the other behind his back.

Mr Neals stepped up into the carriage then looked back and said, “Thanks mate.”

The driver shut the door behind him and replied, “You're very welcome. Oh, by the way, Sir. If you lift up the console in the centre of your seat you'll find refreshments for you and your friend. I hope you enjoy your evening.”

Mr Neals lifted the lid of the console and to his surprise found an in-built ice chest that was half-filled with ice. Semi submerged in the ice was a bottle of French champagne and two wine glasses. He had no idea who this friend the driver was referring to could be, but he seemed to have decided that it would be good manners to wait before indulging.

We all sat around like we were watching one of those soppy movies that only girls watch and I had to keep reminding myself this was really happening.

Miss James was running behind time and I could see similarities between her and my mum. They could both multitask and yet could still find a way of running late and I thought, “I have so much to learn about women.”

Mr Neals must have been enjoying his ride as he began whistling a few tunes which started to drive us all crazy, so we were grateful when the carriage pulled up at Miss James' house. The coachman went through the same routine as before, only this time he had to ring the doorbell and wait five minutes for her to answer it, and even when she did she apologised to the driver. She couldn't find her handbag. He stood there for another ten minutes till she eventually realised she had left it on the kitchen table so she wouldn't forget it.

The two of them scurried down the path and when Miss James finally climbed into the coach, the girls all let out a big sigh and commented on how beautiful she looked and the brilliant job that Carla had done on her make over.

But it wasn't until Mr Neals and Miss James were facing each other that we were able to see how great they both looked.

Miss James opened the conversation before she had even sat down. “Hello,” she said. “What a lovely surprise to see you here. Are you a guest or a secret admirer?”

It was easy to see by the expression on Mr Neals' face that he was happy yet at the same time slightly uncomfortable. He stammered out his words, “Uh...Hi...You....You look fan...fantastic. I, um, I guess I'm both but yet only one.”

We all looked at each other and said, “Huh?”

Mr Neals tightened his lips like he was about to play a trumpet and frowned with embarrassment. He realised what he had just said and knew it sounded downright stupid. At this
point I was hoping my idea of getting the two of them together wasn't a huge mistake.

Mr Neals tried desperately to change the subject by grabbing the bottle from the console and saying, “Champers?”

Miss James replied, “That would be lovely,” and she reached over to accept the glass of bubbly he had just poured. “Thank you. Now what did you mean by your answer?”

Mr Neals screwed up the corner of his mouth. He knew what he was about to say could have negative repercussions and he replied, “Good question. My answer wasn't clear at all.”

He took a sip of the champagne he had poured for himself and continued, “No, I didn't send the invitation. Yes, I am a guest and this is very hard for me to say, so I hope you won't laugh at me, but I've been a secret admirer of yours for so long that when we became good friends I didn't think you could see me any other way.”

At this point Mr Neals put his head down and went quite red. This man was very confident when it came to giving advice or teaching but something like this was way out of his comfort zone.

All the girls let out another big soppy sigh that made most of us guys feel pretty uncomfortable. Miss James was quick to react to Mr Neals' comments and said, “I have a confession to make as well. I feel the same way.”

Some of the girls began to get teary and instead of a sigh this time it was more of an “Orr.”

All of us guys had had enough and in unison said, “Shut up!”

Mr Neals replied, “Really! I wasn't sure and I didn't know if
you would think I was silly if I asked you out.”

Miss James replied, “What I think is silly is that we've gone through this whole conversation and you still haven't asked me out!”

He was so full of confidence now that he leaned forward and put his hand on hers and replied, “Would you like to go out with me?”

The whole monitoring room went silent as we all waited with bated breath.

She looked straight into his eyes and said, “No thanks.”

Mr James let go of her hand and slumped back into his seat. At the same time we were all looking at each other totally dumbfounded by what just occurred.

As we all tried to understand why she didn't want to go out with him she leant forward and grabbed him by the hand and said; “Only joking. It's something I want to do more than anything I've ever wanted to do in my life.”

Everyone let out a sigh of relief and all the guys began highfiving each other.

The evening went well and the manager kept his word. He had set up a table for two in a quiet corner and they had everything served to them quicker than any other patron in the restaurant that night. When they asked why it was a table for two the manager replied that the person who had booked and paid for it had been unable to make it and had sent his sincere apologies. “He also said he knew you would have a wonderful evening without him and told me to tell you both that three's a crowd, you know”, said the manager.

They understood now that this evening was about them,
and although they didn't know who their secret admirer was it wasn't long before they stopped guessing and began enjoying each other's company.

From that night on Mr Neals and Miss James became an item and I was so glad I had helped in giving back a little of what they had given me.

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