Claire McNab - Kookaburra Gambit

I wasn't sure whether she was referring to the building or the crowd around us. I'd thought Aunt Millie's dress rather over-the-top, but it had nothing on the outfits surrounding us. And blonds. There were more blonds than I'd seen in my life. Many were attached to the arms of older men, and all seemed to be laughing and tossing their heads with delight. Could all these people be that pleased to be here tonight?

Brother Owen himself led the welcoming committee at the entrance to the ballroom. After the ceremonial greeting, a bevy of young assistants were on hand to lead guests to their tables.

Aunt Millie and I joined the line and waited to be acknowledged by the great man himself. As we got closer, I heard a recorded celestial chorus singing softly. Concentrating, I could just make out the words. The music obviously ran in a continuous loop, repeating endlessly, "Brother Owen! Brother Owen! All things are possible! Possible! Possible! Only believe. Only believe."

Brother Owen was a smooth operator, indeed. He had every name on his lips, greeting each individual as a close personal friend. We reached the top of the line. "Kylie." Brother Owen smiled into my eyes while massaging my hand. He turned his incandescent smile on my aunt. "And this must be Aunt Millie."

While we'd been waiting, I'd been observing two sleek young men, each holding what seemed to be an electronic organizer. They watched guests approach the top of the line, and one or the other would check the screen they held, then murmur into a lapel microphone. I reckoned Brother Owen had a wireless device in his ear and was being told each name before the person reached him.

The system was efficient. A quick, warm greeting, and then we were passed to a young woman who would guide us to our table.

The banquet room was immense. At one end a broad, shallow stage was floodlit, although at present it was empty, except for a grand piano. I was impressed, in spite of myself, to discover the walls were hung with gigantic tapestries, depicting many separate scenes. Possibly they were biblical, although most figures seemed to be wearing modern dress.

Many round tables filled the area, each glittering with crystal and silver table settings. The room was already crowded, buzzing with conversation, punctuated by bursts of loud laughter.

"Don't like that Owen bloke," said Aunt Millie as we followed the young woman to our table. "Those glib, fast-talking types are all bad news. Watch out for yourself, my girl. He'll be after you like a rat up a drainpipe."

"Thank you for that alluring picture."

"You can laugh all you like. That one's trouble, mark my words."

She halted. "Is that Alf Hartnidge?"

Alf and Chicka were already sitting at the table, but for an instant I didn't recognize them. Both were formally dressed in tuxedos and looked sensational.

"Aunt, I told you he and Chicka would be at our table, remember?"

"I'm leaving it up to you, Kylie, to make sure I don't sit next to either of them. All they talk about is the Hartnidge clan, and a more boring bunch you'd go a long way to find. I'm related to the Hartnidges by marriage, and I've had to endure the family stories for more years than I care to remember."

The woman who'd been guiding us came back to collect us. She had a flat, expressionless face. "You're at Brother Owen's table," she said in tones of awe. "You'll find your place indicated by your name. Brother Owen asks that you not change your place. Each position has been carefully chosen for harmonious vibrations."

Aunt Millie snorted. "Harmonious vibrations, is it?"

Wisely, the young woman didn't engage Aunt Millie in conversation, murmuring, "Blessings," and then hurrying away.

Both Alf and Chicka leapt up as we approached. Alf made an awkward little bow in Aunt Millie's direction. "Millie, you're looking good."

"Not so bad yourself, Alf. Formal wear looks OK on you boys."

I blinked. This was the equivalent of a flowery compliment from anyone else.

"Change the place cards," hissed my aunt out of the corner of her mouth.

"Your wish is my command."

There were ten places at our table. Four names I didn't recognize. Brother Owen had the seat of honor, facing the stage, and a raised high-backed chair, superior to other seating, so I could hardly move his place card. Alf and Chicka were seated to his right and left. I was next to Alf, and then came Tami, who indeed had managed to arrange to sit next to me. Then came the four strange names, with Aunt Millie in the middle of them. I grabbed Tami's place card and switched it with Aunt Millie's. If I had to choose between the two, it'd be Aunt Millie all the way.

The tables around us were filling up fast. A string quartet had appeared on the stage and was vainly attempting to be heard above the sounds of social conversations, which seemed to include the need to shriek people's names upon each first sighting. Waiters appeared with French champagne.

My heart leapt as I caught sight of Ariana. This romantic stuff about seeing someone across a crowded room was right-where she was concerned, I had tunnel vision. She was wearing black, her pale hair swept up in a more elaborate style than usual. As she came closer, I saw her sapphire earrings were almost the same color as her eyes.

Ariana was with Nanette Poynter, who was doing her model-walking routine on the arm of a portly, older guy with a brick-red complexion and only a few strands of remaining hair. He seemed to be on his last legs-I heard him wheezing as he passed by our table on the way to one adjacent. With delight I realized I was positioned so I could see Ariana quite easily. Not that I'd be looking at her, of course…

Ariana had assured me that Nanette Poynter would not acknowledge that she'd ever met me before. The trophy wife of Vernon Poynter was wearing a very tight scarlet dress that showed her ribs and razor-sharp hipbones. She was also bedecked with what I was sure was a fortune in diamonds.

The four people I didn't know arrived at our table and turned out to be two couples, both ancient and both clearly very rich.

Tami Eckholdt still hadn't appeared when Brother Owen made his way to the stage. The noise died down, the lights dimmed in the body of the banquet room, and an even brighter spotlight illuminated him as he raised his hands.

"My friends. The Church of Possibilities is honored, deeply honored, and humble, deeply humble, to have the blessing of your wonderful presences here tonight. You are vibrant examples of the truth, the truth only glimpsed by some, that great success in life is possible. Yet even each of you, in your heart of hearts, must acknowledge that you are still not fully appreciated. You must be aware of God-given talents hidden deep within you that people would marvel at if they only knew."

I saw several people around me unconsciously nodding. Beside me, Aunt Millie hissed, "Load of old codswallop."

Brother Owen began touching hearts with descriptions of children with cancer. I was convinced he was an extraordinary hypocrite but hoped that a fair portion of the money raised tonight would indeed go to help those poor kids.

"She's in my seat!" was whispered fiercely in my ear. Tami was leaning over me, her cheek practically touching mine. "Your aunt is in my seat."

Trying not too obviously to recoil from her, I whispered back, "There's a spare seat over there, between the two couples."

"That's where she's supposed to be. Your aunt must have switched the place cards."

"Shhh!" said someone.

With a muffled oath, my thwarted suitor barged around the table and flung herself in the empty chair. "Nasty bit of work," observed Aunt Millie.

Brother Owen, to thunderous applause, finished his speech and came down to take his seat, on the way stopping at several tables for a personal word with a favored few-doubtless those who contributed generously to the church. I noticed Vernon Poynter gained an especially warm response.