Riotous Retirement Read online

  “Where do you suppose I would get this lot Mary?” Gabriel asked as he handed her the note.

  “At Woolies of course” answered Mary. “Is Brenda not well then?”

  Even Mary thought it very odd that Gabriel was shopping on his own. Now in all those years that he had been pretending to know about cooking this dish, he assumed that his wife had been getting the exotic ingredients required at some specialist shop or other. He never entertained the idea that they would come from a common Woolworths—a shop that everyone goes to for the day-to-day necessities of life—but at least he knew where Woolies was located.

  Just over an hour later Gabriel emerged from Woolies with all that was required—but this had been achieved only by a tremendous effort on his part and the diligence and patience of several of Woolworths’ assistants.

  How much rump did he want—a whole one, a half, what?

  Cream—was that single, double, thickened or cream custard?

  Wine and brandy—he knew about that—okay!

  Chillies—was that small red ones or larger green ones and how many kilograms or grams did he need, or should he get the powder in the little jar?

  Garlic—he got a kilogram just to be on the safe side.

  Cinnamon—sticks or a jar? He took a handful of sticks and two little jars. That should be enough!

  Nibbles —what the hell was this and where on earth in this huge shop would he find something that looked vaguely like the picture in his head of what Brenda usually provided for nibbles. Brenda had stick things, stuff in little dishes that you put little straw things into and little biscuits with coloured things on them. He had absolutely no idea what anything was called!

  Suffice to say that Woolworths had a huge loss from Gabriel’s shopping trip due to the wages they had to pay the staff to help him. After he had asked several of the assistants really stupid questions they got the message and sent a knowledgeable girl with him to go around and judge as near as possible what he required. He was the talk of Woolworths’ staff for the rest of the week, and the butt of many jokes—the fat man that was going to buy a kilogram of hot red chillies—but Gabriel knew nothing of this of course.

  By the time Brenda arrived home that night in time to cook something for dinner he was really worried. Brenda knew this just by the look of him and she had a great laugh when she checked on the shopping, enough cinnamon to do them for the rest of their lives but, bless him, he had managed to get everything. But this was not the time to sympathise; this was the time to strike the final blow!

  “You did well with the shopping dear”, said Brenda, “I hope you are just as successful with the cooking tomorrow morning.”

  “What do you mean the cooking tomorrow?”

  “You know, the veal in white wine sauce, that thing you always boast to your pals about. I just thought you should have the chance to do it all on your own and not have me interfering all the time. Anyway I have decided to start the spring-cleaning tomorrow, all the bedrooms first and then I’ll start on the cupboards but no worries I’ll stay out of your way in the kitchen. I’ll do the kitchen next week.”

  Well that sent Gabriel over the top. He sat there and said nothing for a full minute. He just looked directly at Brenda, his eyes blinking as though even that was an effort. Then he spoke.

  “So this really is about getting a cleaner for our house. I can see that now. Do you think you could possibly give me some help tomorrow love? You know very well that it’s you that always does the cooking. You are so clever and hard working and...”

  Gabriel couldn’t continue. He was a broken man and Brenda’s heart went out to him.

  No more, she thought, I can’t go on with this. Now is the time to put an end to it.

  “There is a way my dear.”

  As she uttered these words she could see the normal Gabriel gradually return and a glimmer of hope could be observed in that very forlorn expression of a minute ago. And although Brenda was very sorry for her husband at this point, she also knew what was required to achieve her goal and so she spoke very carefully and clearly. “I will do all the cooking tomorrow in the usual way with you chopping the carrots and stirring the pot occasionally. We will entertain our guests as usual and you can have your RSL mates around next time just as we had them last week and all I ask from you is one thing only!”

  “And what is that?” said Gabriel. At this point Brenda knew well that Gabriel was ready to hire an army of house cleaners, carpet cleaners and window cleaners—anything to get things back to normal.

  “We will both drive to the Burnside Retirement Village Open Day on Sunday and we will look at the houses available for sale.”

  Gabriel had recovered sufficiently by this time to consider answering in the negative to this statement. Brenda sensed this and so she continued before he could open his mouth:

  “Consider carefully before you comment Gabriel. If you do not come with me and at least consider what is available at this retirement village you will be doing all your own shopping and cooking and entertaining on your own. I will never be there to see your RSL friends ever again.”

  “So it’s not the cleaning after all,” said Gabriel. “Yes alright love, the Burnside Open Day next Sunday, fine.”

  It had been hard work but well worth it. That’s round one Brenda thought.

  Persuading Gabriel

  To move there must be a plan

  Plan A - was convincing the man

  Using skill and feminine wile

  Brenda primed Gabe in remarkable style

  This is the tale of how it began

  Open Day

  Alex was the caretaker at the village and had heard this briefing on previous occasions but still he listened because he knew that Helga Marchmont, the manager at the Burnside Retirement Village, had it all figured out. She was in her stride and strictly on message!

  “Don’t waste time on any couple if the female’s not keen,” she briefed the staff. Forty-ish or perhaps a well preserved older model, Ms. Helga Marchmont was dressed immaculately. Heels a noticeable but relatively modest 12 centimetres, suit with pencil slim knee length dark skirt, she projected a steely authority as she paced slowly back and forth, hands clasped behind her back. The decorative buttons on the shoulder epaulettes of her well cut suit jacket glinted occasionally as she moved. Helga looked carefully at her staff, her eyes absorbing every detail of their dress. She turned to pace slowly in the opposite direction and continued the briefing.

  “If the woman is not very keen they are probably not here to buy so you’re working alone to convince them that the village is for them—because men are very seldom keen at the start. On the other hand if the lady is keen you’ve already got a two to one advantage, and there’s a great chance that you will also have other family members on side, so go for it. The men always crumble on the second visit.”

  There was no doubt that Helga knew what she was talking about. During open inspection days she insisted on the co-operation of all village staff members—and it took the sales ladies, office secretary, caretaker and also the gardener to ensure success. Alex couldn’t help feeling that he was back on the army parade ground and that at any moment Helga would come up to him and shout in his face. ‘get your haircut man,’ or, ‘tuck your bloody shirt in soldier,’ or some such military demand—it amused him to think such thoughts as Helga went through her routine. A swagger stick, he thought, yes that’s it, she needs a swagger stick and that would just complete the picture!

  Helga ended her speech in the usual manner. “And remember our motto, colleagues—Beautiful People, Beautiful Village, Beautiful Profit —this is a high-class establishment!” Ostensibly this was Helga’s little joke but really all the staff members knew just how serious she really was.

  However, regardless of Helga’s insistence that as many villas as possible be sold to the beautiful people, all sorts came to the Burnside open days—after all it was a very attractive place for a Sunday outing.

  Making
the open day setting as attractive as possible was the responsibility of all staff. They had a beautiful area in the village at the end of a tree-lined cul-de-sac. Under a large shadecloth, organised by Alex, tables and chairs were set out together with an attractive spread of finger food and soft drinks. Helga could always persuade a few of the cooperative residents to talk to potential buyers under the pretext of helping with the food.

  As she explained to Alex and the others, “These residents are great ambassadors for this lifestyle. They’ve already spent their money and are committed to village life, so even if they are regretting it, they’re not going to say so—and appear complete idiots— now are they?”

  So all in all, in this beautiful setting, exuding the friendliest ambience of village life, the sales staff presented their product. Well that was the plan!

  While Helga had most factors under control she had absolutely no control over who might turn up. For example they couldn’t discriminate against children or limit the open day to people over 55 years (the usual minimum age for buying into a retirement village) because buying a property for Grandpa and Grandma is often a family affair. Anyway such discrimination is probably against the law! But Helga had the staff well trained about the very many different types of prospective resident attending open day inspections.

  “Beware the over anxious and overbearing adult children accompanying prospective elderly resident couples,” she would warn. “This may be an indication that Mum or Dad might have a special problem or perhaps a personality trait that they are trying to mask.”

  All staff, not just the sales ladies, were trained to look out for such potential problems. They had to be aware because this could reveal itself as a full-blown problem within the environment of a small community and of course they were charged with creating and retaining the Beautiful People in a Beautiful Village concept!

  The sales ladies were, of course, instructed to refer any such suspicions to Helga but, hey, given the choice of passing them on to Helga or signing them up and earning the considerable commission for themselves, they invariably chose the latter. And if it turned out that Grandpa did have a penchant for grasping elderly female bottoms at residents’ meetings or dinner nights, what then? No worries, Helga could deal with him!

  And then there were the people who often came to the open days for the food. When there is free food there are always young couples with kids who have absolutely no intention of buying into the village for their parents but have just brought their own brood along for lunch. They know full well they can’t be discriminated against and really, who is to know if they are genuine or just the Freeloader Family—with no conscience whatsoever.

  Alex was in the food area and able to see traffic entering the small village car park. He observed a people mover drive into the car park and three young children spill out. Oh no it’s Freeloader Family here already, Alex thought. For God’s sake they must have been waiting around the corner until we got the food out!

  This is what all staff dreaded during open days.

  “Freeloaders in car park now, Mum, Dad and three young kids,” Alex reported to Helga. Her response was immediate and predictable. She ordered one of the sales ladies, on pain of death, not to let the kids out of her sight, and directed Alex to stand by for any emergency signals. Alex and the sales lady knew exactly what was required.

  Alex knew the routine well—it was always the same. While the parents were ostensibly looking at the houses for their parents, the kids would be ruining the day for the other prospective buyers. They would be eating finger food by the handful and running through the display homes leaving trails of half eaten sausage roll and the odd pool of sticky orange juice. They never stayed with the parents, nor did the parents appear to expect them to. They were everywhere!

  Within ten minutes this is exactly what was happening. A sales lady is trailing the kids with cloth in hand. Helga is quickly losing her cool and is only just maintaining a polite demeanour with these parents. Alex, who is waiting for any signal from Helga, receives it at the twelve-minute mark. It is a hand signal unnoticed by the parents but Alex can read it and can even hear it ringing in his ear—“get these damned kids out of here!”

  With the aid of the sales lady, Alex rounds up and corrals the kids. He has done this many times in the past. He has a friendly manner and is expert in bribery. He asks the kids if they would like a ride in the buggy around the village and, no, the parents don’t mind—why would they, it doesn’t inconvenience their lunch and anyway they know the routine well. It’s the same at all the villages!

  The three kids are whisked away, still eating from the stash they have been able to put in their pockets.

  “I’ve had plenty of rides in these buggies you know,” pipes up the six year old. “We had sausages last week and it was a yellow buggy,” his older brother tells Alex. Alex nods and now knows exactly what he is in for. They talk incessantly and are never pleased about stopping anywhere. They jump off the buggy before it has come to a complete standstill and stand up in the back while it is moving—no matter how Alex pleads with them. But Alex continues to cajole and talk kindly to these kids all the while imagining what he would really like to do with them.

  The swimming pool attracts their attention for a bit and so Alex opens the gate and lets them in. The youngest kid has his pants off before Alex even notices. There is immediate panic and the older brother is eventually persuaded to get the little one dressed again. Swimming is strictly off limits for children unrelated to any resident and most especially to these children. Besides, Alex does not want to be fishing bits of sandwich and half eaten spring roll out of the pool tomorrow.

  By this time Alex is almost at his wits end. Where to next? he wonders. He considers showing them the deep end and then leaving them there and locking the gate, but with superhuman effort manages to put the thought out of his mind. Nothing else for it, he returns them to the parents.

  While Alex was acting as Uncle Alex, the Bovarys, Gabriel and Brenda, had arrived to enjoy the Burnside open day.

  It had taken Brenda in her own quiet but insistent way a considerable effort to convince Gabriel that if he didn’t come with her to this Open Day she would not be at home when his RSL mates came around—ever again!

  Helga descended on them immediately, attracted initially by the BMW as she saw them drive into the parking area. Within five minutes of conversation she had gauged rightly that Brenda was keen on retirement village living and Gabriel not at all.

  Separate and conquer she decided as Alex hove into view having just dropped off the children. He immediately received his second instructional hand signal from Helga—it was the ‘entertain the man’ signal. In full the signal read ‘take this bloke away and the next time I speak to him he had better bloody like this village!’ It was just a hand signal but Helga never minced her words!

  In the next ten minutes of friendly conversation with Brenda, Helga bemoaned the work a woman does in keeping a large house in suitable style, how difficult it was to make friends with everyone so busy working these days and she also sensed, correctly, that she could sympathise about difficult husbands. She then went on to hint, ever so gently, that Burnside village could be an ideal solution for Brenda. Helga also knew by this time that the Bovarys were well heeled and just the class of Beautiful People that she wanted for the village. She would show them the best, most luxurious and most expensive villa first followed by the least expensive one with the single garage. That should do the trick! She knew instinctively that if Gabriel did eventually agree to the move—and she felt certain that she could make him—he could never envisage his BMW in a single garage! She was right of course.

  In the meantime Alex was entertaining Gabriel in the residents’ lounge at the bar—where else? Alex was having a soft drink of course (strict instructions from Helga!) and Gabriel was only half way through his schooner when Alex saw his chance to introduce him to two of the village men. Before Gabriel had emptied his glass
these two residents were amazed at Gabriel’s favourite story about his ancestry and not only that, they were able to tell Gabriel that the village had a genealogy research club. Well Gabriel insisted they stay for another round and also shouted another two village men who happened to enter the lounge at that moment. By the time the first two residents heard Gabriel’s story for the second time they were looking at each other and showing signs of regret that they had been so enthusiastic about the genealogy club. But Gabriel was elaborating on his ancestor stories and obviously in very fine form!

  Meanwhile every tactic was being employed to present the attractiveness of the village to all prospective residents who came to the open day. Both sales ladies were engaged in keeping as many of the prospective residents as far away as possible from the once beautifully laid out tables in the cul-de-sac where Freeloader Family now dominated.

  If you have supplied food to eat and chairs for people to sit on it is very difficult to ask people to leave but Helga was thinking along those very lines as she observed the Freeloaders engage yet another elderly couple in conversation. They spoke to anyone and everyone, anything to give them an excuse to be near the food and stay a little longer.

  As Helga hovered and considered, she observed Brenda coming back from a village tour with one of the residents who had taken her under her wing, and Gabriel and Alex about 10 paces behind, approaching fast. Helga felt the panic rise. She couldn’t possibly allow the Bovarys to become involved with Freeloader Family! She rushed towards Brenda, her first instinct to turn them around, but too late, they kept coming.

  “Ah ha, do I spy food?” exclaimed Gabriel and increased his stride towards the egg sandwich plate. All that Helga was able to achieve was to guide them to the chairs as far away as possible from Freeloader Family and with other families between them but even that was to no avail. Mr. Freeloader was on his feet to collect the last egg sandwich and, seeing a male he had not yet met, came over and introduced himself to Gabriel and Brenda.