Coleman reflected on how he had changed over the years. His present success continued to surprise him. He had been a shy and unconfident child! An only child, Stephen Coleman had grown up in an atmosphere filled with intelligent albeit often inebriated debate, and witty but cutting sarcasm, as both his parents were professional people who were often, to Stephen's amusement, fiercely competitive towards each other.
As a young child he experienced an ongoing sense of loneliness. His parents, due to the nature of their work and interests, were basically peripatetic and disliked putting down roots of any kind. They travelled extensively and the inside of his wardrobe doors were lined with post cards from the most exotic places one could imagine. He had spent his adolescent years in boarding school.
At night, when the other boarding students were asleep, he would lie on his bed visualising these faraway places and conjure up some fantasy in his mind to carry him off to those destinations, not necessarily to be with his parents, but to escape the monotony of being a teenager ensconced in the rigid disciplines as determined by the school's masters.
He had been one of those children who could pass through others' lives without being obvious, or apparently special. Not that he had really tried. In fact, although he had the ability, Stephen found the whole idea of attending boarding school relatively boring and conformed just to pass the time. He existed on the periphery of the other students' worlds.
One summer he had the good fortune to spend his holidays in the country at the invitation of another boarding student. He had enjoyed every moment. The host family had gone out of their way to treat him as they would one of their own and in the first week he had already mastered the basics of horse riding and sheep mustering. He had not known until some years later that the two-month holiday had been arranged by his parents. Apparently they had been invited to Banff Springs for the fabulous New Year's Eve formal celebrations and his mother had insisted that she and her husband attend without their child.
Stephen believed that his mother, having never been pregnant prior to his own conception, decided to become so just once for the experience and, once he was born, had decided also that it was not something one should repeat.
He had completed his secondary education without being able to remember even one occasion when either parent attended a prize award evening held by the school. Perhaps, he determined, that was one of the reasons he was not really motivated enough to win, or compete, as there was nobody to encourage his success or applaud his efforts.
University had, at first, been just as unstimulating as school but before the end of his first year he discovered that easy sexual conquests were available to all and he was determined to have his share. This new found confidence with the opposite sex nearly brought about an early end to his tertiary studies.
During the second semester of the following year he was caught in a scandal and his father was obliged to intercede on his behalf in what could have resulted in his premature and permanent departure from the campus. Fortunately the Dean of Students' over endowed and flirtatious wife admitted encouraging his advances and, in the interests of the college and with a little outside pressure, the matter was dropped. Stephen did, however, move from Melbourne to a Sydney campus.
Having completed his formal education at one of the state's finest colleges he felt there was not a great deal left for him to do in the academic sector. His life became directionless. He drifted through the long hot summer holidays surfing, reading and generally just lazily filling in the days alone. His parents, when their complicated schedules permitted, arranged never ending eating and drinking marathons around their pool with stockbrokers, lawyers and what seemed to be an endless list of interstate associates. Stephen should find something to do, they urged.
It was towards the end of February, the summer heat having reached its zenith, when his mother hosted one such reception in their home. Stephen had attempted to avoid attending the party but his mother's insistence obliged him to do so.
It was at this gathering that he first met Mr John Anderson. During the course of the afternoon, as he strolled around the pool stopping occasionally to speak to his parents' guests, he had observed his mother standing close to this charismatic and handsome man. She had called Stephen over to introduce them. He wondered had his father been present, would he have been concerned with the obvious attention his mother lavished on the popular guest, or would his reaction have been one of customary complacency.
Twice Coleman had the opportunity to engage the tall suntanned man in intelligent non-party conversation and to his pleasant surprise, Anderson did not patronise him nor did he avoid conversing with the younger man. They had also discussed the ski slopes of the Snowy Mountains. Stephen had developed his winter skills as a teenager whilst visiting Smiggins and Perisher and both men related their own stories of how they'd had near disasters on those runs, and the exhilaration of speeding down the snow covered slopes alone, challenging the mountain and the elements.
When Anderson had politely inquired as to Stephen's future plans and had discovered that the young man was not only undecided but lacked any direction whatsoever, it was he who suggested, later in the day, that Coleman consider entering government service. At first he considered the idea preposterous. He spent a week recollecting the brief encounter with the intriguing Mr Anderson and then decided to give him a call. Stephen borrowed his mother's Jaguar and drove down to the capital. They met over dinner at the Statesman's Club in Canberra at the request of the older man.
The evening had gone well. So well, Stephen felt as if the meeting was just an extension of the previous week's amicable conversations. He could not remember ever being so at ease with an older person as he had with John Anderson during those moments. It was obvious that his mother's close friend had deliberately gone out of his way to ensure that Stephen was relaxed.
Anderson
had talked extensively and Stephen had happily listened, as the man made a lot of sense. Without a great deal of further deliberation he accepted the advice and made a commitment to apply for the position suggested.
He remained for a few days before returning to Sydney. There he stayed just long enough to pack and inform his parents regarding what had transpired as a result of his visit to Canberra. There was practically no discussion regarding his monumental decision although his mother appeared to be pleased. His father's reaction had been surprisingly cool and indifferent. At the time Stephen had shrugged it off and, as he departed, just shook his father's hand without any further exchange or comment, sensing that something had disturbed the man and that it related to his career choice.
Stephen had put his arm around his father's shoulders but there was little response. He seemed distant, almost preoccupied and overly reserved. His father had never really been a demonstrative person. Clever, yes, Stephen had thought but never warm or affectionate towards his son. Stephen could not remember ever kissing the man, even as a child. His mother had fussed as he said goodbye to her. She had held him closely and whispered into his ear, instructing her son to behave himself and phone regularly. It seemed strange. He was only travelling a few hundred kilometres from their home and yet he experienced a strange sensation of one who was embarking on a long journey, away from all that was familiar and loved. He had never experienced this emotion before, not even when he was away at school.
John Anderson used his authority to locate a suitable apartment. These were scarcer than hen's teeth as most were allocated directly according to strict waiting lists. Anderson was good to his word. Within a fortnight Stephen Coleman was accepted into the Department.
Once settled, Stephen easily fell into the routine of government employment. He enjoyed his workplace and the new circle of friends and threw himself into the arduous training schedules. He found the pristine air invigorating but soon discovered that the capital had a downside when the weather warmed. The flies drove him into fits of temper he'd not displayed since his childhood days on the sheep station. They were small and aggressive, attacking the nostrils and ears, causing Canberra's inhabitants to curse the filthy little insects, bred by their own government to consume the larvae of the traditional country fly which infested the rural areas around the capital. Stephen often wondered how the foreign diplomats and their families put up with the pests. Gradually he settled into the new routines and found life satisfactory.
Stephen enjoyed the first months assimilating to the work conditions and also adjusting to the demanding training schedules. He was pleased at having made the decision to enter into the government service. There was so much to learn and the opportunities seemed endless.
He had become concerned during the first weeks however when, for reasons he could not fathom, several of the other Department's officers displayed a coldness towards him, a coldness which was not evident in their behaviour with respect to their other fellow workers. He put it down to a personality clash or basic civil service arrogance and did not dwell on the matter until, during the course of a function at which one of these men having consumed more than was wise, made an offhanded remark that concerned Coleman. He raised the issue with Anderson when next invited to the mountain retreat which now had become a regular monthly excursion.
Stephen was surprised to discover that John Anderson had stood as referee for him. He knew, of course, that Anderson had facilitated his entré into the Department. They agreed that the attitude some of his co-workers displayed was probably resentment at Coleman's swift acceptance into his new position. He acceded to the older man's advice to put what he considered only a minor annoyance out of his mind.
Ayear passed quickly by which time he found that he was firmly ensconced in the Canberra circuit and continued to spend at least one weekend every month in the quiet of Anderson's hideaway. He still found himself relaxed in the man's company. Apart from the weekends away they met often, dining together and even travelling to Queenstown in New Zealand together for a weekend ski visit. He never tired of listening to John's deep soft resonant voice advise on subjects new to Stephen or lecture him on the idiosyncrasies of bureaucracy in government. He was always attentive to the older man's advice and out of the deep respect he had developed for him had, without hesitation, accepted his urging to transfer to the Information Bureau and broaden his horizons. Except it wasn't really the Information Bureau!
In years to come Coleman would reflect upon his close relationship with Anderson and silently acknowledge that he was not really conscious at the time that it was then he had been recruited, albeit surreptitiously, by the master craftsman. He had entered a new world, sinister and without shape, a world from which few had ever escaped. And now he was back in Melbourne, in literary hell, struggling to stay alive â or at least remain on the course.
Although difficult, the study load suited Coleman's demeanour. He was offered an intellectual challenge and was obliged to compete as an individual. Initially, during the confusing first days he had questioned his judgment in selecting this training. Critical of his own lack of patience he had, he decided, to persevere and complete the task he'd undertaken. Now, armed with weeks of confidence building results behind him, Coleman applied the necessary self-discipline required to push himself just that little harder, to achieve the level of fluency required to communicate in the alien tongue.
As he strolled towards the soft sounds of the sea and the waves slowly encroached on the narrow strip of the dark sandy foreshore, Stephen's thoughts continued to drift in the early morning hours. He felt tired, but at the same time he experienced a sense of exhilaration at being alive, almost as if he had finally been given some real purpose in life. Stephen found this new energy invigorating. He identified the new motivating forces and was pleased that they were not based on monetary considerations. It would have been relatively easy, he knew, to obtain employment through his parents' connections in a far more lucrative field of endeavour.
The cry of birds overhead interrupted his thoughts. A flock of sea-gulls passed over and Stephen instinctively raised a hand over his head. He stood for a moment observing a small fishing dinghy bobbing up and down a few hundred metres offshore. They were probably from the base, he thought, as it was some distance to a jetty not located within the military surrounds. Coleman stood for a few moments looking out to sea. A figure moved past behind him and called, “
Selamat pagi.
”
Coleman instantly recognised
Pak
Seda, one of his instructors. “
Selamat pagi
,” he responded.
Seda approached, hands in pockets, with the casual gait Asian men have developed throughout the centuries. “
Mau kemana?
” Where are you going? asked the short dark skinned man. Coleman hesitated. He knew he had to select his words precisely as mistakes, even off campus, were remembered when assessing student proficiency.
“
Iseng-iseng saja Pak
.” Just strolling around, sir, he answered. Coleman was pleased he had remembered the phrase. His vocabulary was growing rapidly which increased his confidence.