Claire McNab: The Dingo Dilemma

"There's plenty for everyone," he said with dignity. He opened the refrigerator door and peered inside. "Who's taken my passion fruit tea?" He glared at us accusingly. "I see peach and apricot, but no passion fruit."

"Don't look at me," I said. Blimey, it was bad enough that the stuff was weak, iced tea, but to put artificial flavors in it as well? Yerks! I didn't show my disgust, as Lonnie loved to tease me about what he called my flavored-tea phobia.

"It just so happens I noticed Harriet drinking passion fruit tea," Melodie said. "She's minding the front desk for me. I bribed her with a doughnut."

Lonnie's chubby face darkened. "Pregnancy won't protect her," he said. "Harriet knows perfectly well that passion fruit's my favorite." He paused at the door to say with a helpful smile, "If you like, I'll take the doughnuts up to her so she can choose the one she likes."

"Dream on, Lonnie. You'd eat half of them on the way."

He seemed wounded at Melodie's charge, well founded though it was. "Trust is a precious thing," he said. "Unfortunately it's in short supply around here."

"Rather like doughnuts," Melodie said pointedly to his departing back. She turned her attention to me. "Did you find out what the story was with the tractor and the dingo?"

"Nothing to do with a native dog. It's a bloke called Dingo O'Rourke. He's a distant cousin of mine and is working as a dingo wrangler on Darken Come Home.”

Melodie's eyes lit up. "No! On Darleen Come Home? Larry-my-agent says with my mastery of an Aussie accent, I'm practically a sure thing for a part. He's lining up an audition for me as we speak."

Melodie referred to her agent so often that he'd become a hyphenated phrase in my mind. "Larry-my-agent's a bit off the mark, isn't he? The show's set in Texas."

"Sure, but there's an Australian in the cast-Dustin Jaeger. He plays Timmy, the adopted son of the Hardestie family. Aussies turn up all the time in the stories. Don't you watch it?"

I confessed I didn't. Melodie showed amazement. "But it's a hit, Kylie. Like everyone wants a dingo for a pet, now they've seen Darleen in action."

Whether it was fair or not, where I came from wild dingoes were regarded as sly and treacherous. "I wouldn't leave a kid alone with a dingo," I said. "You'd come back and the kid'd be gone, and the dingo'd be smacking his lips. Look what happened to the baby in A Cry in the Dark!'

"That was a rogue dingo," Melodie declared. "Darleen's quite different."

Lonnie came sauntering into the kitchen, attracted by the magnetic qualities of the remaining doughnuts. "Harriet says to hurry up, Melodie. She's got an appointment with her doctor. The baby's due any day now." Anxiety creased his brow. "I do hope Harriet doesn't go into labor while she's here. I'm not good with anything medical."

"No worries," I said. "You can keep yourself busy boiling lots of water while Melodie and I deliver the baby."

"I know you're supposed to have boiling water for babies being born, but what's it for?" he asked.

"It's just to keep people like you occupied, so you don't have hysterics."

Indignant, Lonnie said, "I do not have hysterics. The sight of blood makes me faint, that's all."

From Melodie's expression it was clear that for her, childbirth was not a gripping subject. She broke in with, "Lonnie, have you heard? Kylie's cousin is the dingo wrangler on Darken Come Home. Isn't that great? It's like, a personal link to the show to know the dingo wrangler."

"Oh, yeah?" said Lonnie, not impressed. "I know a star wrangler."

"Oh, Lonnie, you do not!"

Clearly miffed, he snapped, "Why's that so hard to accept?"

"What's a star wrangler?" I asked.

"They guarantee to deliver the right celebrity guests to events and parties," said Melodie. "Let's say you have this big function, and you want Hilary or Paris or Scarlett or Lindsay, or a power couple like Tom and Katie, then a star wrangler corrals them for you. Of course, you need celebrity bait, too."

"Appearance money," said Lonnie, in the manner of one in the know. "Gifts, publicity, donations to the star's favorite charity. All that sort of stuff."

"What's the name of this star wrangler you say you know?" asked Melodie, deeply suspicious. "You've made it all up, haven't you?"

"I've made nothing up. Pauline works for Glowing Bodies, the event coordinators."

"Glowing Bodies is the company name?" I said.

"Celebrities sort of glow, more than ordinary people," Lonnie pointed out. "So, Glowing Bodies."

"I've been told I have a radiance, a sort of glow about me," Melodie declared.

Lonnie unsuccessfully repressed a chortle. She glared at him. "Something's funny?"

"Not more than usual," he smirked.

"This Pauline," said Melodie, looking narrowly at him, "what's her last name?"

"Feeney. Pauline Feeney."

"She's your girlfriend?"

A blush spread over Lonnie's chubby face. "You could say that."

"I don't believe it!" She turned me. "Do you believe it, Kylie?"

"Well, if Lonnie says so…"

Fran chose this moment to appear at the kitchen door. Obviously she was in a dark mood, which was par for the course. Fran wasn't tall but she made quite an impression, combining a spectacular bust line, porcelain skin, and dark auburn hair with the bleakest of expressions. She rather reminded me of an exquisite but malevolent doll.

"Harriet's bladder won't take any more," she announced. "She says you asked her to mind the telephone for five minutes. That was at least twenty minutes ago, Melodie. And Harriet wants to know where her doughnut is."

"Fran, what do you think of this? Lonnie says he's got a girlfriend. She star wrangles for Glowing Bodies."

Fran shot a look at Lonnie, who was still faintly pink. "A girlfriend? I don't believe it."

Seriously displeased, Lonnie snapped, "Why not?"

"Lonnie, face it, you've never mentioned a girlfriend before," Fran pointed out.

"Just because I don't parade my personal life-"

"How did you meet Pauline?" Melodie demanded. "Spell it out. At some celebrity do? I don't think so!"

Lonnie had gone quite red again. "If you must know, through a dating service. A very reputable company, Soulmate Discovery."

"A dating service? A star wrangler working for an outfit like Glowing Bodies would need a dating service?"

Stung by Melodie's incredulity, Lonnie said furiously, "Pauline says once you've got past the fame, celebrities are totally shallow and self-centered. You can't have a meaningful relationship with them, because they're all in love with themselves."

"That's true," said Fran. "Quip says the same thing."

Quip was Fran's husband, and wrote screenplays that so far had never been produced. He was a gorgeous bloke, and struck me as gay as billy-oh, but he and Fran seemed to have a happy marriage-or as happy as you could have with Fran's outlook on life.

Encouraged by Fran's support, Lonnie said with a superior smile, "Pauline says if I want to meet celebrities, she can get me an invitation to any event I like. Just name it, and I'm in."

A calculating expression flashed across Melodie's face. "Now I think about it, Lonnie, I can see why Pauline would be drawn to you when all she does is handle high-maintenance celebrities. I mean, you're just an ordinary person."

Looking quite chuffed, Lonnie said, "She does say it's great to be with someone normal."

"Or what laughingly passes for normal," Fran observed.

The phone on the kitchen wall rang. As I was nearest, I answered it. Harriet, who normally was the most even-tempered person on earth, snarled, "Put Melodie on."

"It's Harriet for you," I said, holding out the receiver.

Melodie grabbed the Delicioso box and shot out the door. "Tell her I'm on my way with doughnuts," she called back over her shoulder.