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Before either of us could move, the big front door slammed open and a commanding voice called, "Hallo the house, the master is home." In trouped a stout man in purple finery and lace cuffs followed by three Redcoat officers from one of the companies of foot. All three were big men and from their ruddy faces, I assumed that they had been drinking on their way north.Since I was weaponless, except for my bayonet, I looked for a way out, grabbed Gertrude and made for the back hall."Stop right there," commanded a voice behind us, and in the doorway stood the broad-chested man in purple, a very large pistol in his hand. I put the woman behind me and faced him, my hand on her hip. I could feel her tremble. "What the hell are you doing in my house, with my wife?" he demanded, stalking toward me, muzzle aimed at my middle.Behind me, I heard Gretchen squeal, and glanced over my shoulder to see her being held by two of the British officers, both of whom seemed to be enjoying themselves in pawing. Yes, I’m certain ... I’ll talk to Patrick ... My car or the LandRover? ... OK. Tomorrow around ten? ... Right.” She looked at her husband. “You were right. My mum said she couldn’t advise without knowledge, so Al invited Sayuri to Easter in Canberra. He wants to borrow a vehicle. I said I was certain it’d be OK. He’s coming here in the morning.”“Let me call him. I’ve an idea.” Rachel handed him her phone. “Hi, Al. Evil in-law, not sister. Listen, why don’t we drive up to you in a little while and leave a vehicle? That makes for less shuttling ... OK ... it’ll be a bit over an hour, I expect.”“Clever and sneaky,” Rachel said. We take both cars up there, he picks one, and no one is without a vehicle.”“Yes. And we’ll shop now and fill both your car and my Rover up on petrol.”The (small) caravan to Macquarie and the symbolic exchange of Rachel’s Lexus for Al’s thanks and a promise about its immaculate return went quite easily. They didn’t see Sayuri. On the return to Newtown they chatted.
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