Laughs, Corpses... and a Little Romance Page 17

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  Anyway, to get back to what I was saying, next morning Tim hurried his breakfast, then shot out of the house, calling over his shoulder that he would meet us at the wharf. He didn’t give me time to ask what he was up to. Jack and I drove along to the wharf in the truck, and soon after we got there, up roared Tim on a motorbike. “Whose bike is that?” I asked. “Mine” “Yours? Where d’you get it?” “ I just bought it from Dick Roberts at the garage.” “You bought it? How are you going to pay for it?” “I’ve paid for it already. I’ve been saving my pay for ages to get it.”

  Well, he certainly was a dark horse, been saving for ages and never said a word about it. It was one of those two-stroke bikes with long front forks that are used for off-road riding. “Why didn’t you get a proper bike?” “This is a proper bike. I want to go trail riding with it.” “There’s nowhere round here you’re allowed to go riding through the bush. The National Parks people don’t allow it.” “There’s plenty of places you can go on the other side of the river. Dick Roberts at the garage told me about some.” He’d obviously been planning all this for ages. Then I noticed the sour look on Jack’s face. “What do you think Jack?” “I think it’s a damn stupid waste of money.” I could see that Tim had got one up on Jack. “You could buy one too if you tried saving some of your money instead of spending it all.” “ Huh, I wouldn’t buy a dopey motorbike, I’d buy a fab sports car with a soft top, so I could drive round with the top down. Wow, wouldn’t that pull the girls! Yeh, maybe a Maserati Spyder, or something really groovy like that!” “Well you’d better start saving, seeing as you’re starting with nothing.” How typical of Jack, he hadn’t saved a cent, but was dreaming of driving around in a car that only millionaires can afford, just so he could impress the girls. Tim, on the other hand, had quietly saved enough for a bike, and was heading off to have fun. Jack sometimes makes me despair; Tim sometimes makes me gently proud.

  When we knocked off that evening Tim jumped on his bike and took off in a cloud of dust. Jack looked very down in the mouth as we climbed into the truck. I’d often seen Tim jealous of Jack when they were lads, but now the boot was on the other foot. Perhaps it was Tim piloting the police launch and finding the cocaine, and now having his own bike, but their relationship was suddenly changing. They were becoming equals, rather than Tim being the younger brother. Next day Rosie the checkout girl from the supermarket sidled up to Tim on the wharf, looked at him with big round eyes, and said “Hullo Tim, I saw you on your new bike last night; can I have a ride?” She was a pretty girl in a homely sort of way, a bit shorter than Tim, with curly brown hair and a nice smile. Tim looked at her a bit startled, and then said, “Ok, jump on then, where would you like to go?” They drove off with her arms tight around him.