Mike Dixon

mals were being treated to some of the delicacies prepared
for the mysterious visitors. He wondered if the Dutchman
knew who they might be. The meal ended and he pulled out
the whisky bottle. The old man had shown little enthusiasm
for the beer but his eyes lit up when he spied the amber liq-
uid.
„You‟re a good lad!‟
David poured two glasses.
The Dutchman took his and raised it to eye level.
„Good health!‟
David wetted his lips but drank nothing. He continued to
fill the old man‟s glass and was soon hearing his life history.
He‟d been born in what was once the Dutch East Indies and
had never set foot in Holland. His family had been interned
when the Japanese invaded Java and he‟d escaped to Timor.
From there he‟d made a perilous journey to Australia where
he joined the army.
The horrors of war had taken a heavy toll. David knew
about such people. His grandfather and Uncle Charlie spoke
about them. In the First World War they were described as
„shell shocked‟. In subsequent conflicts, terms like „battle fa-
tigue‟ had been used to describe their condition.
Some people could withstand conflict. After what had hap-
pened, David knew he was one of them. He gained no pride
from that. He was aware of how much he had changed since
he‟d come to terms with Tim‟s death. He‟d killed a man and
helped a professional killer dispose of the corpse. Earlier that
day, he‟d used a gun to intimidate Daryl. Once more he won-
dered how Charlie had been drawn into a life of violence.
People often commented on how similar they were.
The whisky had got to the old man and David wondered if
he should stop him drinking. He‟d had virtually none of the
bottle himself and it was now almost empty. After some re-