Westpoint Tales - JH Williamson & Billy T. Carver, 3

Next morning, early, two boys woke in their separate beds in two sleeping households.

Billy quietly got out of bed, showered and dressed himself. With the remote control, he opened the floor-to-ceiling, wall-to-wall, beige coloured drapes and uncovered the glass wall behind. A touch of another button opened the double sliding doors and he rolled out on to the glass-roofed balcony outside.

There was a bit of a cold breeze, but, what a view! From his high vantage point on the 19th floor of the tall tower of the New Adelphi, it was almost like looking down from a plane.

To the south, his left, he could see the rock-walls of the tiphead with the wide river in between. The long, sprawling, suburb of Carvers’ Beach lay beyond them, reaching all the way around the bay to the old cement works at the Cape.

To his right, the view was obstructed by the wall that divided his granddads’ home from his Great-Uncle Jonathan’s mirror-image home on the other side, but he could still see the bush-clad hills in the distance as the bay curved around there.

Directly in front, beyond the waist-high safety-wall, he could see the long, gray, North Beach stretched out like a map below him. But what he could mostly see was the sea. The gray-green-blue Tasman Sea with its white-crested waves rolling in to crash on the beach, and the mirror-image clouded sky above it. Several dark bands of rain were out by the horizon and the whole picture was spectacular.

“Good Morning, Light of My Life.”

Billy turned and grinned at his Granddad Billy. “Good morning, Granddad. Sleep well?”

“Like a log, Billy. There’s nothing like getting home to your own bed. How about yourself?”

“Oh yes. It’s just so good to be here at last.”

“It’s great to have you here at last.”

They exchanged grins again, and then Billy stepped forward and touched a big button on the safety wall, then another to the right, and another. Three panels of armour-glass slid up to close the gap between the low wall and the roof above.

“That’s better. We don’t want you catching a chill on your first morning here.”

“Woo-who. I didn’t know they did that. Thanks Granddad, but I’m not fragile you know. I’m pretty normal, I just can’t walk.”

“I know you’re not fragile, Son. I just like taking care of you. So, what do you think of it so far?”

“The Adelphi? It’s great. What a great place to live; and this view, it’s terrific – spectacular!”

“Yeah. We like the New Adelphi. It is a great place. So it should be, it cost a bloody fortune! Your parents designed it you know. They did a good job, but then, they always did. If you think this view is good, you ain’t seen nothing yet. Come and see what’s around the other side.”

Billy followed him around the balcony to the south and out on to the east side. This side was also divided by the wall of Jonathan’s apartment, but – wow! Below and before them was the newer suburb of North Beach. Straight ahead the long, straight, Derby Street led the gaze, like an arrow up into the older town.

Sunlight broke through the clouds and lit up the town. The long streets stretched out below them. The north-south streets of the square grid, ran from the old wharves by the river across to the smaller Williamson River to the north. The east-west streets ran parallel to the river, back through the town towards the green farmland and the bush-clad hills to the east. Westpoint looked like a glowing animated map, like a miniature fairyland before them.

“Like it?” Billy asked the entranced boy.

“Oh, yes! This is just great – wonderful!”

“Yeah, we like it,” Billy grinned. “It was Justin who insisted on building out here. I couldn’t see why at first, but now I do. Justin loves the beach, he loves Westpoint. So do I. It’s all good.”

“Yeah, it’s all good,” the boy replied. “I love it already. But, where is Granddad Justin? Is he still in bed?”

“Still in bed? On his first morning home? Not likely! Justin’s been gone for ages, he’s out running.”

“My granddad’s out running? That’s radicool.”

“Yep. Justin’s always loved to run. He’s not as fast as he used to be, but he still loves it. There he is there – coming down Derby Street. Come inside where it’s warm, Son. I’ll get some breakfast started. Are you hungry?”

“Granddad, I’m a growing boy. I’m ALWAYS hungry.”


On the south side of the river, in Carver’s Beach, JH walked out onto the imitation-wood deck outside his second-floor bedroom. He stretched, yawned and frowned at the gray day out there.

“Bloody West Coast – always raining!”

He looked up and down the road below him. To the south, the grubby old cement works huddled at the end of the bay. To the north were the airport, the river, and then the town of Westpoint.

“Bloody old dump.”

One single white and glass skyscraper towered over the North Beach.

‘That must be where those Reynolds people live in their precious ‘New Adelphi’. Skiting pricks, showing off their money. And they’re queers, most of them. So, what have we got here?”

There was a wide sidewalk on this side of the road, almost as wide as the road itself. He couldn’t see all of it as the balcony reached out across it. Over on the other side there was a narrower sidewalk between the road and the wide, gray, beach. A few early-morning runners and swimmers were dotted around the scene.

‘Probably bloody queers too.’

JH looked over the edge of the balcony, it wasn’t far to the tiles below, so he climbed over the railing, lowered himself down and dropped. Easy. Billy’s Burgers was open for business, but he wasn’t interested. He didn’t do junk food. Roller-bladers and Hover-boarders were gliding along the sidewalks. He hadn’t seen those things in years.

There was a bench seat across the road, under a fake palm tree and at the top of steps leading down to the beach. He wandered across there and sat, looking back at the building that he’d come out of.

What had the cop called it? Oh, yeah, ‘the complex.’ ‘The whole complex.’ There was a continuous line of buildings with one long verandah/balcony running the whole length of the block from one side street to the next.

Billy’s Burgers was on the North end, some small surf-side shops, (ice-creams and amusements and stuff), and then the big ‘Carver’s Beach Hall’ separated by an alleyway from the equally big Sports and Leisure Centre. Then there were more two-storied shops, apartments above, and a big bar and café on the corner with seats and tables sprawled outside.

Apparently, there was a supermarket and a covered shopping mall down the alley, an aquarium, covered, heated swimming pools – both fresh and salt-water, and spas around the back. The office and entry to the Westpoint/ Carver’s Beach Holiday Park, (motels and cabins), was up the side street behind Billy’s Burgers.

It was all quite new and modern looking, sort-of a California/ Americana look about the place. There was even a hot-dog shop there. His father’s apartment up there wasn’t huge, but it was not too bad. Modern. If he was the boss of all that then he must be doing all right for himself, but why did he have to live ‘on the job’?

The cop said that his father managed it, so he didn’t own it all. Still, pretty cool. Unless, maybe that was just a fancy way of saying that he was the custodian? No. One person couldn’t clean all of that.

The sun came out and everything looked much better than it had. A couple of hot-looking girls rolled past him and they both smiled. Their long legs and their pert little bums were working as they pushed the roller-blades along. Oh, yes! JH decided that he might quite like living in Westpoint.

He frowned at the sight of a couple of queers walking along the beach behind him. They were older, teenage guys, about 18 or 19, both with long dark hair and dressed in similar clothes. They were barefoot on the sand, holding their shoes in one hand and holding hands with the other.

Holding hands! In public, where anyone could see them! They walked along the beach, chatting and laughing and none of the people around took any notice of them at all. JH did, he couldn’t take his eyes off them. Bloody Queers!

He hated them, but they fascinated him too. They were so open and they looked to be enjoying themselves. They looked to be good friends, close and comfortable with each other. Bloody queers!

But, still . . He could be honest with himself, couldn’t he? JH was lonely. He’d never had a real friend, a best friend. He felt like he’d been alone all of his life. He hadn’t, of course, but he’d never had a real friend. He’d been lonely for, like, forever.

He envied those two – envied their obvious closeness. He envied them, but, yuck! He hated them. Bloody queers, they shouldn’t be allowed!

“James. James!”

He looked around and groaned. His father was outside, standing and waving on the balcony, calling out to him. But, that wasn’t the problem – it was his clothes! Jon was dressed all in white, with a string-tie even, (which just looked silly with the black pearl on its golden chain that he always wore around his neck). His white hair stood out around his head. All he needed was a hat and he’d look like Colonel Bloody Saunders already! Embarrassing.
He stood up and made a small wave back. Anything to shut him up. Thank goodness that nobody knew him here. He went back over the road, through Billy’s Burgers, and up to join his father in his apartment. (His Father!)