Girgarre <strong>Gazette</strong> <strong>February</strong> pg10 Power Saving Bonus Contact The Cottage, it takes 5 mins to complete. Bring your bill, pension card and bank account details
Girgarre <strong>Gazette</strong> <strong>February</strong> pg11 Writers’ Group Latest Contribution by Ruth Kirkham Ricky and the Roller Ricky stepped up from the beach and entered the gravelled carpark, empty except for one vehicle. He glanced over at it, stopped, and looked again. It shone like a beacon in the forecourt of the hotel, just out of sight from the beach. He walked over. It was a two-door convertible – top down, beautifully polished bright jonquilyellow duco, brassware gleaming. “Wow!” He gave a low whistle, his heart racing. “Look at that – what a beauty! A Rolls-Royce Twenty Drophead Coupé!” He flicked the dust off the famous triangular-top radiator with his handkerchief. “That red RR emblem makes it an early one,” he said to himself, giving it an extra rub for good measure. “Hmmm … probably an in-line six cylinder … yes, crank-handle and magneto and coil … four-speed manual … about 1927, I reckon.” Resisting the urge to lift the bonnet, he ran his hands over the big brass headlights and down the sleekly curved mudguard. What I wouldn’t give for a car like this! Ricky felt the envy wash over him. Tweed cap, scarf and dust coat … boy, I’d look the part. Sunday drives in the country … picnic basket strapped on the back, cold chicken and champers. If I had a car like that, I’d have no trouble finding a pretty young thing to come driving with me. Ricky leaned over the driver’s door, one foot on the running board, and looked at the old-style gear stick, clutch and brake pedals. You could smell the old money in the leather seats. He stroked the wooden steering wheel. It was beautiful – the mellow patina from years of other hands had polished it to perfection. The key was in the ignition. He looked around – no one in sight, not a soul. I’ll just hear how she runs, he thought, turning on the key. I bet it’s as sweet as a baby. He gave the crank a swing. “Aaah, purring like a kitten – beautiful.” Ricky opened the door and climbed in, leant back and let his hands slide around the steering wheel, taking in the rosewood dash and the shiny round dials, breathing in the leathery smell – oblivious to anything but the car. He gave the accelerator a little rev. A manila folio on the passenger seat caught his eye. As he picked it up, advertising pamphlets for the new Lovely Waters housing estate on the peninsular spilled out. Lifestyle and Liberty: a brand-new concept for the younger upwardly mobile generation. Going fast. Don’t miss out, it’s your call. “Oh yeah, Santorini, the billionaire property developer.” Ricky gave a wry smile as he fumbled with the leaflets. Who else could afford a car like this. I wonder where he is. He shuffled through the papers and saw a reminder note with yesterday’s date: Steve – will be leaving the car at the Florida forecourt tomorrow. Picking up a deep-sea fishing charter at 10 am, planning on heading to the outer reef for a couple of days When you knock off, take it back to the house for me would you? Ricky glanced at the clock on the hotel façade – only 11.45am. He couldn’t help himself. He depressed the clutch, engaged first gear, released the hand-brake – and slowly lifted his foot. He’ll never know, he thought. Just a quick turn around the block. © Ruth Kirkham 2021 Ruth Kirkham is a member of the Kyabram Town Hall Writers’ Group. Members are diverse in interests, ages and backgrounds. This makes for some very interesting and informative discussion while sharing stories, poetry, and the problems of the writer’s craft. The KTHWs’G has produced a book – Celebrating Women, a collection of original written works and art from the community. It is for sale at $20 from the Kyabram Town Hall and online from the writers’ group link on Facebook and the KTH website: kyabramtownhall.com.au Direct contact: kyabramwritersgroup@gmail.com
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