The Queen Visits

Late in the afternoon, our host Terry, popped down to see if I'd be able to hang a picture. Proud of my non-existent DIY skills, Gen and I went upstairs to dance on a bed whilst waving a hammer and nail in the air.

The painting was a print of a recumbent lady in bed, kind of Renaissance, but the main strategy was to make sure the painting wouldn't fall on the head of the 'Queen' due to arrive that evening.  The top floor of the house was huge, open plan, open deck with tons of space surrounded by the hillside tropical,forest. Jan, one of Terry's best mates, darted around. She was well into her impish seventies, wearing leopard gaiter shoes and skimpy skirt. Her penetrating gaze looked long and deep to find out who you are. With skilful questions she exhibited psychic and tarot skills.

Terry, originally a Melbournian, had spent nine years in FNQ as a cosmetic assistant, applying Botox, facial nips and tucks. As a 20 something year old she had tripped the light fandango in Europe and was going back soon for a nine-week blast from the past with a girlfriend. Then she planned to set up business on her own.

Later in the evening, Terry's friend, nicknamed the 'Queen' for her regal poise and Royal demeanour, arrived from Rockhampton with blonde hair in a chignon and a dry sense of humour.