University - Cover

University

Copyright© 2011 by Peter H. Salus

Chapter 31

I made the phone calls and scheduled a visit to sign an agreement and deliver a cheque for $2000. Then I sat thinking about my paper for the Koori Centre course. I decided to write a nasty essay on the PM. After all, it's two years since she said that there would be a referendum, that Australia had to acknowledge that 'first people of our nation have a unique and special place' [8 Nov 2010]. And now, nearly two years later, she'd 'delayed' the referendum! Crikey! She's just afraid of the results, especially after the NT elections, putting the Country Liberals into power. And Mills has put two aborigines on his cabinet. I'd refer to her as JuLiar throughout.

It was interesting how much animosity I felt about our Prime Minister, but I felt that she wasn't a very nice person (the manner in which she'd knifed Rudd was a part of that, as was her playing the "misogynist" card) and I knew that she was yet more unlikely to keep a promise than most politicians. Moreover, she was against the public knowing what the government was up to ["The Australian Law Council says Labor's data retention plans go too far," The Australian, Sept. 2012.]

It all made writing a brief, vituperative paper quite simple.

Rachel had no paper: the intro to archaeology course had a final examination, which she felt wouldn't be too difficult. She intended to re-read the textbook the week prior to the exam and her notes the afternoon before.

I read half a dozen of Trollope's novels and a few of his letters for the government paper. The history course had had a few assignments all term and would have an exam, but I wasn't concerned about it. I planned to devote a week to the Koori essay and most of November to the Trollope.

But the next few months were difficult for both of us: courses, special study, the Art Gallery, and preparations. It turned out that the two days before the wedding were impossible for dad's legal gent, so we made the appointment for the 20th. Our flights were for the 15th and the 29th yielding us two full weeks in Perth (of course the 16th and 23rd were Sundays; the 19th was the wedding; and the 24th, 25th and 26th were Christmas; but that still yielded enough family and friends time). I booked us into a riverview room at the Hyatt on Adelaide Terrace. It was right downtown and not near either set of parents.

We found time, though to attend a Sunday afternoon concert of Mozart, Handel and Vivaldi concertos by the Australian Chamber Orchestra at the Opera House. The most interesting thing for me was hearing Mozart's Piano Concerto #12 played on a fortepiano, really more impressive than a clashing full grand. We also heard the Chamber Orchestra in a Prokofiev, Shostakovitch, Tchaikovsky concert at the City Recital Hall – a far more intimate venue.

It was mid-November when Rachel asked: "What should I wear?"

"Eh?"

"To the wedding! I'm certainly not getting a traditional gown."

"I hope not! And not virgin white, either. But do you want to get something special?"

"I think I ought to. But not white: that's the death color in Japan."

"Oops! Eggshell? Pastel? Pale blue or rose?"

"What were you intending?"

"I was going to take my light grey suit and a variety of shirts, including one dress shirt. And a necktie. Otherwise, just two pairs of pants. Oh, and dress shoes."

"You've got it easy."

"You want to go shopping alone or with me?"

"With you. Next Friday?"

"Fine."

And that's what we did. We went to Chariot, the shop of the Fashion College on Glebe. But while there were several dresses that would have been both lovely and sexy, there was nothing that Rachel considered suitable. Several of the women there told her that minis were fine for a wedding, one suggested Sami & Sita on William Street. We left without making a purchase, heading for William.

When we got there, I knew this would be it. There were dresses and separates, wedding dresses, bridesmaid's dresses, racing dresses. I turned Rachel over to a handsome woman and sat in a surprisingly comfortable chair. After a few minutes, another woman offered me "coffee or tea?" I opted for coffee. Rachel reappeared in a floral dress. "No," I said. "Solid would be better." She didn't say anything, just went back. A little later, Rachel was wearing a knee-length, pink dress; her shoulders were bare and there were straps that crossed in back. "You're gorgeous!" I said. She grinned.

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