Chase and I go into a tiny coffee shop that looks to have been opened in the same year that tea was introduced to the Western world (1660!), although not in the unpredictable teabag form that we see today (a form that has taken much of the fun and excitement out of tea-making, in my humble opinion).
‘Sit,’ Chase says, and smiles at the waitress, who wears a vintage-style dress and blouse. ‘Relax and enjoy the charm of days-gone-by, as it says in the brochure.’
Oh, the brochure! I get it. This is a themed coffee shop.
‘Could I see the brochure, Chase?’ I ask. ‘I like background information. It’s often fascinating, even if badly written.’ Once I spent so long reading a brochure at a re-created gold rush town that the place closed before I could see the mine, as it was past the horses’ bedtime.
Chase waves my words away. ‘I was just speaking about brochures in general, George. Because that’s what they all say: enjoy the charm of days-gone-by. So do it. Without a brochure. I want you to get used to being out of your comfort zone. Because from now on, who knows what will happen?’
Gulp!
I order tea, and just to prove to Chase that I can survive in or out of my coffee shop comfort zone, I add sugar and dunk a biscuit, two things that no Parker person would ever do unless they’d lost their mind and all their teeth at the same time.
Chase checks his phone. ‘Clementine is up.’ He taps the screen. ‘And so is the Australian Stock Exchange.’ He shows me a long figure. ‘That’s the value of my share portfolio. Now for a little internet banking and . . .’ His fingers tap-dance. ‘There. Two million bucks should do it. We’re clear for take-off.’
I can feel my heart beating fast and hard.
‘Don’t look so worried, George,’ Chase says. ‘You’ll upset the dog. Anyway, I usually find that just as many good things happen as bad things. So we should survive. In the end.’
I suppose that’s reassuring.
‘Regardless,’ Chase continues, ‘check this out.’ He shows me a photo of an elephant standing in a demolished house. ‘Prince Jimahl says there’s a big difference between the words go and whoa as far as elephants are concerned. Luckily, this was the neighbour’s place.’ Chase shrugs. ‘Anyway, I’ll get the bill.’
We leave, and on the ground floor, when Amy chases a mouse down its hole, I find a copper coin. It’s a King George the Fifth penny, dated 1930. And although I am only an amateur numismatist, I know it’s very valuable.
‘If we sold this penny,’ I tell Chase, ‘I could help with our expenses. It’s worth . . . a lot.’
Chase grins. ‘Keep it for emergencies, George. But now we’d better get back to school to pack. Clementine sent me a flight plan. She wants to leave at about fifteen- or sixteen-hundred hours-ish, tomorrow or the day after tomorrow-ish, kind of thing.’
‘That’s rather imprecise, isn’t it, Chase?’ I say. ‘For an international flight.’
‘You think so?’ Chase shrugs. ‘Whatever. Anyway, Clemmy’s quite superstitious. So we have to fit in with that, too. She won’t take off if a black cat crosses the runway. Or a white horse. She’s got all the knowledge in the world about that sort of thing.’
I’m not sure I’d call it knowledge, but I keep quiet.
‘I look forward to meeting her,’ I say.
Chase nods. ‘You should. She was runner-up in the Miss Universe contest and invented an incredibly accurate tracking device for rock formations and iron ore mines.’
‘But those things don’t move, Chase.’
‘I didn’t say it was a useful invention,’ Chase answers. ‘I just said it was accurate. Now come on. Let’s go.’
I do as Chase suggests, and as we head back to school, I must say today has been some day.
And tomorrow’s still to come!