My Love - A Romance

[Daniel Thomas Andrew Daly]

‘My Love - A Romance’



Chapter One



6000 SC



I was ready. As ready as I could be. All summer long I had been
studying the textbooks for the classes I would be attending. My
attitude was this – the early bird catches the worm – so if I was
going to pass the extremely challenging ‘Law Degree’ at the Australian
National University, I would have to be as prepared and as
knowledgeable as possible.



By early February, when classes were about to begin, I felt I was
already practically a lawyer. How wrong I was. I was about to meet
someone – my first boyfriend – who would change how I saw the law, and
life, and love, forever.



‘So you see,’ continued David, ‘the whole purpose of law is to protect
us from harm. The fundamental basis rooted in the idea of law is
that, if something causes harm to your fellow neighbour, then it is
deemed unlawful.’ David was cute, and as I looked at him I thought on
an idea I would challenge him with. ‘Then why do we have drug laws?
I mean, if they are for personal use, and you are not harming anyone,
only yourself, then why are they illegal?’ David looked at me, smiled
that cute smile he has, and said. ‘Does anyone have an answer for
Justine?’ Charlie spoke up. ‘David has basically spoken of the
foundation of what law is supposed to be about. But the reality of
Australian legislation, and much international as well, is that not
every law is based on the same sound set of principles. In fact, a
draft proposed in Parliament can come from any sort of direction, and
does not have to explicitly state its basis in legal ruling or
precedent. In that sense, law is still random.’



‘But isn’t the constitution supposed to define what laws can and
cannot be made?’ I asked innocently. David spoke up. ‘The
constitution defines what type of laws the federal government can
make. Or what areas they are allowed to legislate upon. It does not
state the nature of the laws they can pass, or give a basis for what
constitutes correct or acceptable law. Now as it stands, in
Parliament, the assembly debates wether they will accept a piece of
legislation or not. Yet the moral foundation for all of their
judgements on the proposed bills is, unfortunately, the whim of the
moment. With all their current life problems, moral crises, biases,
prejudices and human influences. In the end, I am afraid, the law we
have inherited as a nation is far to ‘human’ and by that I mean far to
‘fallible’ in nature.’



I looked at him and asked the obvious question. ‘So what can we do
about that?’ He continued, smiling at me, ‘We need a benchmark for
law. We need an act or a constitution of the legal process itself
which defines what is acceptable law and what isn’t. In essence, this
nation needs to define the foundation of what it believes is morally
right and morally wrong. Until it does we go on with this patchwork
set of supposedly moral laws, which nobody is really satisfied with
anyway.’



I looked at him, quite impressed. ‘You’re a genius,’ I whispered to
him under my breath and, the way he looked at me in response, I knew
he heard me.



* * * * *



‘So do you think he is cute?’ Gemma asked me, about the guy we were
all interested in. ‘Justine doesn’t like boys, Gemma. You should
know that. She is probably a lesbian who needs to come out.’ I
looked at Frances with daggers in my eyes, but said nothing. ‘Go on.
Do you like him?’ persisted Gemma Watkins. ‘I could tell, you know.
By the way you were looking at him.’ ‘He’s ok,’ I finally said. ‘I
still can’t believe you’re still a virgin, Justine,’ said Frances
Jones. I mean, come on girl. Time to get busy. It’s not like we
live in the 1940s, you know. We are liberated now.’ ‘Liberated from
what, exactly?’ I asked Frances, biting my tongue straight away, as I
should have known better. ‘From the bondage of centuries of doctrinal
brainwashing by the corrupt clerics of Christendom.’ I nodded. It
was the usual thing she would say – as anti religious and pro feminist
as ever. She continued. ‘You know, they used to actually kill people
for claiming to be witches. I mean, if you practiced a little magic –
pow! That was it. They would dunk you under the water until you were
dead. Or some other horrible fate. And you know, my great
grandmother used to wear a chastity belt. We still have it in the
family as a memento. A big horrible metal thing, with just enough
room to pee, but sure as hell not enough room to fuck.’ ‘Frances,
watch your language,’ interrupted Gemma. ‘Go to hell Gemm. I am not
a stuck up snob, like I think you are becoming.’ ‘I resent that. I
just think we could all act a little more maturely. Not so childish.
We are Uni girls now. Not like we were in high school. Society
expects more of us.’ Frances attacked her on that point. ‘It was
society’s expectations which drowned witches. Which invented horrible
things like chastity belts. As far as I am concerned, fuck society.’
‘Then why on earth would you want to become a lawyer? That seems like
the last thing you would want to do.’ ‘To fight for peoples rights.
People need all the help they can get in what is still a patriarchal
authoritarian society. It will be a lifetime before we get the real
changes we still need.’ I shrugged. Since about late year nine in
high school, Frances had been on her feminist crusade. I think she
had seen some of her mother’s pro-feminist videotapes and decided that
she would likewise follow in her footsteps. I thought on the chastity
belt she mentioned. Frances had actually shown it to me the year
before and it had made me grimace. It was a big, heavy metal thing,
which would have been horrible to wear, with a thick metal band
circling the waist and a band running from the back to the front, with
small holes to go to the toilet with. As Frances said, it would have
been impossible to have sex with it, which was its whole purpose
anyway.



I had been raised in a conservative Baptist home, used to a strong
sense of sexual purity and morality. I still attend Hughes Baptist
church every Sunday, often twice on Sunday and go to various other
church gatherings and bible studies. These days, in the modern 21st
century, my mother continues to tell me that the times are not like
they used to be. As Baptists we had long been brought up with the
belief that Jesus would one day come back for his bride – the church –
and then Judgement day would begin. My mother constantly warned me
that, the way the world was heading, his return could be soon. It
really made me think, often, about what life was supposed to be
about. I guess, in reflection, I Have basically accepted the religion
of my upbringing. I like church, the people who go there, and the
sermons help you to focus on a positive life, which is important to
me. I often think our pastor, in his sermons, is a bit hard on the
rest of society in the way he seems to often condemn their ungodly
lifestyles. For example, Frances my friend is a Catholic by birth,
but never goes to church these days. My mother tells me she is
basically ‘of the world’ and should probably be avoided. But she
leaves that choice up to me in the end. Apparently I am now old
enough to find my own way through life.



Frances often tells me that the conservative platform of the
fundamentalists is ‘unrealistic’ and out of touch with human nature.
Carnality is part of us, she maintains. Better to accept it and live
with it, with a basic sense of law and justice in civil society, then
to lose sleep over how holy you are. She tells me that there have
been sinners since Adam and Eve, which surprised me inasmuch as she
said she did believe in Adam and Eve, which I thought no Catholics
really did anymore. But the point that sin was not exactly something
new, as she put it, and her idea of a comfortable level of sin to ‘not
piss God off to much’ sort of did have its carnal appeal. Of course,
with my strict upbringing I should have rebuked her as a heretic, but
her happy go lucky nature, and the fact that she was generally quite a
kind person once you got to know her, taught me that there was perhaps
some wisdom in what she had to say. As she would put it ‘We are human
– we are prone to fucking up. If we can accept that part of
ourselves, and get over our sense of being super people, we will be
much happier in life.’ And of course she continued to maintain that
‘holy rollers’ simply kissed each others asses in their assemblies,
telling each other how holy and godly they were, as if they were all
beloved children of God. Frances was, in truth, the tonic to my
conservative upbringing that, in my tryhard rebellious teens I guess I
needed to hear.



On the other hand, Gemma Watkins, while basically of the world like
Frances, was as much a ‘Queen of Babylon’ as you can possibly get.
She tried to have sex with every cute guy that came her way. She
maintained to me that she had lost her virginity at 13, which I did
not doubt, and that she had now slept with over 50 different guys and
done everything imaginable in the bedroom. I guess if there was such
a thing as a female ‘stud’ she would be it.



‘Which one of us do you think he likes the most?’ asked Gemma.
Frances looked at her, considering her answer. ‘David seems to be a
clean cut kind of guy, Gemma. I don’t think he will go for a harlot
like you.’ Gemma gave her a sly look from the corner of her eye.
‘You know, Francine. Men, really, when it comes right down to it, are
all the same. If the chick is hot, and she puts out, they will fuck
her if she flirts. They nearly always do. Trust me on this.
Experience talking.’ ‘Yeah, whatever,’ replied Frances, very used to
such statements of female wisdom from Gemma.



‘You know, Francine, if it wasn’t for the fact that I know you had sex
with Freddie back in year 12, I would probably think it was you who
was the lesbian, and not Justine as you suggested.’ ‘Fuck you,’ said
Frances in response. But Gemma persisted anyway. ‘I mean, come on.
You were the major femmo in year 10 – all the class thought so – and
we figured you would not be into blokes. But Freddie maintains he
scored with you.’ Francine, despite the liberal stance she supposedly
maintained, blushed a little. ‘Yes, it is true Gemma. Freddie took
my virginity. But he wore a condom, ok. Something which I am sure
you have never heard of.’ ‘Oh, I use them alright. Don’t you worry
about that. A modern 21st century girl can never be too careful in
this day and age – what, with the umpteen trillion VDs you can get
nowadays. Really, it is scary out there.’ I interrupted. ‘Then why
do you have sex with so many boys? Aren’t you afraid you will catch
something.’ Gemma looked at me and, what turned out to be quite
surprising, made a confession. ‘If you really must know, most of the
time I simply pash the guy and occasionally jerk him off. I am not a
virgin, that is true. But I have only been really sexually close to a
few guys, and we always practiced safe sex. You know, he would come
on my tits or on my face. I have only swallowed a load once. It
tasted interesting. But I am a lot more cautious than you girls know,
ok. What? Do you think I am stupid, or something? I know the real
problems with promiscuity. It’s what killed so many of the gay men
back in the early 1980s, when Aids first came out.’ I spoke up on
this subject, reflecting some of my pastor’s teachings. ‘My pastor
says God sent Aids to punish sexual sinners. The bible is supposed to
be clear that God expects abstinence until marriage. If you play
around with fire, you will eventually get burned.’ ‘Fundie!’,
exclaimed Frances, with a sarcastic smile on her face. I grimaced. I
hate being called a Fundie, which was Frances cute term for a
religious fundamentalist believer. ‘Well that is what my pastor
says. I didn’t say I agreed with him. I didn’t say I disagreed
either. It is just an interesting perspective.’ Frances spoke up.
‘When Columbus discovered America, the men on the ship when they got
to land had sex with Lamas, and got syphilis. So what you are saying,
in a sense, is true. Truly deviant sexuality can bring to it
sickness. I think that, maybe, Aids came the same way. People
probably had sex with African monkeys which is how Aids came to us.
And the way Aids and other VDs are in the world these days, you either
practice safe sex or play Russian roulette. Eventually you will crash
and burn.’ I nodded. Frances’ words, while harsh, were inevitably
true on the issue we were discussing. I silently thanked God I was
still a virgin, free and apart from all those problems.



‘Anyway, girls. David and Charlie and the others will be having their
informal law chat again tomorrow at lunch time in the canteen. Shall
we go along again then?’ I looked at Gemma, a little nervous. It was
true. I did have the beginnings of a crush on David, and did want to
see him again. But I was not expecting it to be so soon. I needed a
little time to get my thoughts together. Too think on what I would
say. Perhaps I should pull out, I thought. But, no. It was an
opportunity best taken when it presented itself. ‘Yes, alright. I
will be there,’ I replied. ‘You can count me in too,’ responded
Frances. ‘Catch you then,’ said Gemma, waving her hand at us, and
making her way out of the canteen and off to her next class. ‘I
should probably get going as well, Justine,’ said Frances. ‘I need to
study a lot when I get home. I have my first essay already, and it is
going to need a lot of research.’ ‘Good luck,’ I said. ‘Thanks.
I’ll need it. Seeya,’ she said, and made her way off.



I sat there in the canteen, thinking on life and love. It had been an
interesting and absorbing first couple of weeks at uni. And I really
looked forward to what lay ahead.



Chapter Two



‘Hi everyone,’ said David, arriving at the same place we all were
hanging yesterday, towards the end of the Canteen. ‘This is Karenina,
a friend of mine,’ he said, introducing an Asian girl with a headdress
on, who seemed to be a Muslim. ‘Karenina is a new student, who has
been studying with me to catch up on missed lessons. But she is very
bright and is learning quickly.’ ‘Are you a Muslim?’ asked Frances.
Karenina nodded quietly, but did not speak. ‘My name is Frances,’
said Ms Jones, introducing herself. ‘Hi. I’m Gemma Watkins,’ said
Gemma. ‘You know Charlie, Frank and Irene of course Karenina,’ said
David, referring to the other main law students who hung together in
the small group. He looked at me. ‘This is Justine. You had better
watch her. I get a feeling she will try to steal everyone’s tutorial
marks opportunities in the lessons feedback presentation.’ I smiled
at David, flattered at being thought so intelligent. I noticed,
though, that David seemed to have something of a cap on his head and,
out of curiousity, I asked him what it was. ‘Oh. This is a kippot.
It is a head covering that Jewish men sometimes wear, especially at
synagogue or in prayer. Karenina and I were praying in the prayer
room. It was why I was wearing it,’ he said, then removing his
kippot. I looked at him, stunned. ‘I didn’t know you were Jewish.’

‘What do you expect with a surname like ‘Rothchild?’ he responded.
‘Oh,’ I said, slightly surprised. ‘I had actually thought it was
British or French or something like that. ‘No. Quite Jewish.’



He began his discussion that day, as usual talking about a new area of
law which was sometimes relevant to what we had been speaking about in
our classes, but sometimes on a vague, unconnected area. It was, so
he said, his purpose to try and give the little group a wide ranging
view on issues not always addressed in class. He said something when
we were first beginning. ‘They are not going to do everything for us,
you know. Our teachers. Our lecturers. To be a true success – to be
a true contributor to the lawyers of our society – we need to make our
own mark, in a sense. We have to have our own ideas and our own sense
of passion. If we simply follow what has gone on before, we simply
get what we always got. That is fine if you like what we have
already, but I think we can do better.’



They were words which had stayed with me. Positive, inspiring words.
Words, almost, to live by.



‘Well the Australia Act, essentially, took away any real power of the
Monarchy over Australian citizens. All the Queen has, in any real
sense, is the right to be regarded as something of a symbolic head of
state. There is now no course of repeal to the Privy Council so, in
the practical world of real life, Australia runs its own affairs
completely.’ ‘Then why do we need the Monarchy at all? Wouldn’t it
be better if we simply did away with an outdated system which exalts
one individual?’ asked Frances.



I looked at David, very curious to hear his answer.



‘I think I will be very honest in my answer. What the Monarchy
currently provides for with Australia is a united Commonwealth in
which we enjoy the fruits of unity with each other. I know, in the
Cricket especially, Australia has a great rivalry with Britain, but
perhaps a real truth is that, as we are both commonwealth nations,
with a similar type of government, and the same constitutional head of
state and, because of that, we have a greater sense of togetherness
and friendliness, which we perhaps only enjoy more greatly with our
Anzac friends from New Zealand. Aussies love to have a go at the
Pommies, but they also like to get along with them in a pub or after a
game as well. I think a truth is that this culture – this English
Speaking world Culture – is very united now. With the internet,
countries like Canada and the USA, as well as New Zealand, Ireland,
Australia and Britain are really becoming very close friends in a
global village with a lot of competitors. My belief is that the more
unity we can have, especially with English speaking nations, is
ultimately in our best interests. For me remaining in the
Commonwealth, like Canada chose a few years back when they had a
referendum on the issue, seems to be a very sensible decision. I know
we are located in the Asia-Pacific region, but the loyalties of blood
and family which are in these six nations in particular run deeper, I
feel, than linking ourselves more to the Asian region. My belief is
that, eventually, like pre-Babel days, we will speak one language on
planet earth one day. And I assume that due to the stronger power
structures within the English speaking world and the stronger
economies that it will likely end up being English. They are a
stubborn people, the Brits, and I think the language of Shakespeare
and Austen, Tolkien, Lewis and Rowling will eventually rule the
world. It will likely be the lasting influence of the British
Empire. Rome gave us its letters and many other inventions. It built
roads and paved the way for much of what followed. Arab empires gave
us advances in science. I think, for the Brits, there sports will
endure forever, just like their language.’



I looked at him and asked a question I felt I already knew the answer
to. ‘And what of Israel? What is their eternal legacy?’ ‘With
respect to my Muslim friend, who may disagree with me in some ways, I
feel we have left an eternal legacy of spiritual and religious thought
for mankind. I mean Jesus was actually a Jew and the way I view
things these days is basically accepting Unitarian Christianity as a
valid Jewish sect. The Apostles Peter and Paul were Jewish. In fact,
most of the early church was Jewish. While some of the older
generation may disagree with me on this, I actually take a little
pride in the fact that Christianity is essentially a Jewish religion
in its origin and that the most popular person who has ever lived is
Jewish.’



I looked at him and smiled, quite happily at the last comment. ‘Yes,
David, Jesus was Jewish.’ He smiled at me in response, a little bit
of a grin on his face.



* * * * *



Later on, I and Frances and Gemma were again in conversation. ‘He is,
really, pretty smart,’ said Gemma. ‘And boy, is he cute.’ ‘Isn’t he
too religious for you,’ asked Frances. ‘Oh, I don’t know. I kind of
like that in some ways. It usually means a guy is stable – settled.
I have found, especially from my experience with Justine here, that
religious people, despite the hypocrisy you often accuse them of
Frances, are usually peaceful and honest or lawful type of people.
They do seem to be honest in that sense, which is, I guess, a positive
of religion. Of course, I couldn’t care less if he was Christian or
Jewish or Muslim – maybe not Muslim – I don’t think they treat their
women well enough – too restrictive and controlling – but him being
Jewish is fine by me. I think, going way back on my mothers side, we
actually have a little Jewish blood in us anyway.’ I looked at her,
slightly curious. ‘You have Jewish blood.’ ‘I think mum said, when I
was a bit younger, that her great grandmother was Jewish – her
mother’s father’s mother. So that makes me a little bit Jewish,
doesn’t it? I might tell that to David. He might like me because of
it.’



Frances looked at me. ‘Are you going to let Gemma steal him then.
Steal your ‘Jesus boy’. I looked at her with a glare at the comment
Jesus boy. ‘And with a name like David as well. You know what, you
could convert him to your church. That is what you fundies like to
do, isn’t it? God knows, I have seen them often enough in Civic on
Friday nights. Handing out their bloody flyers and even preaching
occasionally. I think they really think they are saving our souls. I
am sure God loves them but, forgive me, they really need a good
rethink. Surely by now they would get the point that people don’t
really give a fuck.’ I looked at her, and decided to respond to that
point. ‘Actually, while our church doesn’t really do street
preaching, we do get quite a number of new visitors to our church. In
fact, in Australia it is really only the fundamentalist churches, as
you put it, that are actually growing. The older churches who have
given up the commission are slowly declining. It is precisely because
they don’t care about peoples souls that they are growing cold and
old.’



Frances looked at me. ‘Is that right then? The older churches are
declining?’ ‘Look at your church. You can hardly find any new
priests these days. Catholicism doesn’t really inspire Australians.
Our church and many other Evangelical and Pentecostal churches at
least hold peoples interest and excite them a little. Not old and
boring. Old and religious.’ ‘Bloody hell, Justine. Don’t mention
the Pentecostals. Those tongue-speaking freaks. They are the
absolute worst of your sort. Heck, some of them even believe you are
damned if you are not in their church.’ I nodded to myself on that
point. It was, actually true. The Oneness Pentecostal church in
Chifley generally viewed themselves as the only true church in
Canberra and the only ones who were saved because they were baptized
the proper way. Frances had had a run in with one of the Oneness
Christians – a young lady of about 20, all with long dress, long hair,
and no makeup. It was the rule in their church that women could not
dress like men, and had to have long hair and no makeup. My Baptist
church, I guess, in a strange way was a lot more liberal on that
issue, not that I really viewed myself as liberal. Yet, if that is
how Jesus wanted that part of the Body of Christ to function, then he
must know what he was doing. Perhaps that type of lifestyle – the
very puritanical one – appealed to some people. Perhaps they simply
liked it that way.



‘I think he likes me. I think he does,’ said Gemma, playing with her
hair. I looked at her. ‘David, you mean?’ ‘Who else, silly,’
responded Gemma. Frances looked at Gemma. ‘I think, Gem, that David,
knowing what Jews are like, will only be interested in a Jewish girl.
That is their culture – their law practically. To only marry their
own.’

I looked at her, nodding. I was familiar through my studies of some
of the old testament passages which generally separated Israel from
the rest of mankind. But I thought on one book to share with my
friends.



‘Actually, King David’s grand-father Boaz – or was that great-
grandfather – I can never remember. Anyway, Boaz was from Bethlehem,
were Jesus was born, and he married ‘Ruth’, who the biblical book in
the old testament is named after. Ruth was a Moabite, who were not
Jewish. So, I think, while their general rule is to marry amongst
themselves, they can marry people outside of the faith if the match
is, I guess, holy and godly like Ruth was.’

‘That is interesting,’ said Gemma. ‘So Jews really like holiness, do
they? I guess that is why they pray like they do, at the wall in
Jerusalem. Bowing back and forwards. Because they are trying to be
really holy and all that.’ I nodded. ‘Yes, I guess, religious Jews
are still sort of interested in that. Our pastor generally thinks,
though, that most modern Jews are way to humanistic and practically
anti-religious. But the Ultra Orthodox are still quite religious and
probably follow the old rules to a degree still.’

‘The diehards, you mean,’ said Frances. ‘But don’t they all wear
beards? David doesn’t have a beard.’

‘Yes, I noticed,’ I replied. ‘Perhaps he is not that overly religious
in the end?’

‘Which will be perfect for me,’ said Gemma, happy at that point. ‘If
he is only a little religious he will probably like me quite a lot.
Especially if I tell him I am practically Jewish?’ Frances stared at
Gemma, a queried look on her face. ‘Practically Jewish? How the hell
did you make that leap?’

Gemma blushed, a little embarrassed.

‘Oh, you know. Oh, ok. Sorry. I was just hopeful. But I am, sort of
Jewish. And if he is only a little bit religious, maybe that will be
enough for him.’

‘Maybe,’ responded Frances.

I looked at Gemma. She really did seem quite keen on David. I think,
perhaps, she knew how intelligent the guy was and how successful he
would likely become. I think, perhaps, because of that she knew a
good catch when she saw one and in that femme fatale mind of her she
was already making plans for husband number one. I thought on him for
that, embarrassingly so, myself. It was true. He probably would be a
good catch. Perhaps, as Frances said, if I converted him to my church
he would end up marrying me. But, no, I thought, kicking myself.
That was not the ethical way towards making a marriage partner, and I
could hardly think I would necessarily convert him anyway. He might
actually have quite deep Jewish beliefs. And, of course, despite the
fact that I didn’t really want to be held to it, the bible generally
forbade Christians who were not married from marrying someone outside
of the church. Still, thinking on David, and the fact that he was
Jewish, I wondered if such a reality could ever be an exception. It
was, perhaps, something to quietly ponder over the weeks ahead.



Chapter Three



‘Seriously. You DON’T believe in UFOs and Aliens?’ Frances was quite
stunned by David’s frank confession that he was not a grand believer
in life on other planets. She decided to persist on this point,
confidently armed with her mother’s encounter of a few years back.
‘So tell me then, Davy boy, how do you explain crop circles? How do
you explain countless sightings of craft to difficult to explain any
other way? How do you explain all the ‘taken’ encounters with
aliens?’ David considered his words, quite carefully. ‘Well, I don’t
think you will like what I have to say about the latter two. Unless
you can take a challenge to your view, I would rather not say. It
might offend you.’ I looked at David, a little alarmed at what he
might be thinking. ‘Go ahead,’ said Frances. ‘I’m a big girl. I can
handle it.’ David responded. ‘Well, I believe that Schizophrenia is
a myth. It is not a disease at all. Schizophrenics are simply the
more sensitive among us to the spiritual realm. And the voices they
hear and the hallucinations they see are nothing more than
manifestations in the spirit realm.’ ‘Interesting,’ responded
Frances. ‘I don’t really know much about schizos, but I will take
your word for it. How does that connect?’ ‘People who see aliens and
UFOs, really, are just seeing demonic delusions. Demons playing
tricks on humans.’ Frances was a little upset in having her mother’s
encounter reduced to a demonic delusion in front of her friends, but
thought it did actually sound like an interesting idea. ‘So you
actually believe in Demons?’

‘Why is it so hard to believe in spiritual beings? If you believe in
God, why can’t you believe in angels and demons?’

‘God can be believed on in rational argument. Yet demons and angels –
that is just archaic religion?’ David looked at her, and thought on a
clever response. ‘Ok. How about this. A demon is just a
spiritualized human.’

Yeh? Your point?’

‘Now pretend he is Adolph Hitler as a spiritualized human. Or better
yet, Charlie Manson.’ Frances looked at her, and seemed to concede
the point. ‘Evil spiritual beings, basically, is what you are saying
then.’ ‘Spirits who reject God’s authority and practice as much evil
as they can or want to. Totally self willed and totally rebellious.
Extremely viscious and evil spoiled brats. That is what a demon is
Frances.’

‘Yeh, well when you put it like that it doesn’t sound too hard to
believe in.’

‘You know Fatima? Where the crowd all saw the Sun dance.’ Frances
nodded. She was familiar with the catholic revelation which took
place there. ‘Demons at work. Why is it nobody else in Spain saw the
Sun dance, but at Fatima they all did? It was simply a massive
delusion of Demonic forces at work.’

‘You know, I am a Catholic David.’ ‘But you’re not into Mary, are
you.’

‘No, not really,’ responded Frances. ‘I prayed those prayers when I
was younger, but don’t bother with them now. So you are saying the
Fatima experience was all a demonic delusion? Why not a divine
encounter?’

‘To what purpose would God or Angels have in making all those people
see the sun move, yet have it only be a delusion. We know for a fact
that the Sun really didn’t dance, as throughout that part of the world
there were no universal reports of it doing as such. It was demons
simply promoting their Catholic heresy.’ ‘Catholic heresy, David?
That is not very nice of you. I thought you respected other people’s
religions.’ He looked at her, and nodded. ‘Well, let us put it this
way. I respect the people within those religions a great deal. They
are all children of Noah and all loved by God. But I think much of
supposed monotheistic religions are really just heretical and are only
popular due to populist teachings. Catholics call Mary the Queen of
Heaven. In Ezekiel the Israelites were rebuked by the prophet and
condemned for worshipping the Queen of Heaven. You see, Mary is not
Hashem’s queen. Really, she was just a simple Jewish peasant girl.’



I looked at him, a question having arisen. ‘Who is Hashem?’ He
smiled. ‘I probably should remember that most westerners are not
familiar with the term. Hashem is Hebrew for ‘The Name’. It is our
polite way of referring to God, so as to not commit the sin of
blasphemy. ‘You mean Yahweh, don’t you,’ I asked innocently. He
gritted his teeth. ‘Yeh. But, so you will know, in Jewish tradition
only the High Priest is supposed to say that name, and only once a
year on the day of atonement.’ Frances looked at him strangely. ‘You
can’t even say God’s name? Mmm. Maybe that is why Christians are
supposed to be children of God. We use his name and know him as our
father. A father doesn’t treat his children like that, you know. A
great, big, impersonal beast who must be obeyed.’ David looked at
her, and paused for a moment. ‘Yeh. Yeh, that is how you Christians
do view God, isn’t it? As your own father?’ I spoke up, ‘You do
remember that Jesus taught the church to pray the ‘Our Father’ don’t
you? I am sure most Jews have heard of that prayer.’ ‘Yes, I have
heard of it. But it is not usually the way we view God. To us he is
God most high. To be feared and respected.’ ‘I looked at him and
decided to quote the old testament prophet Malachi. ‘Did not Malachi
say, have we not one father? One God who created us all?’ David
looked at her strangely. ‘Malachi said that? That’s interesting.’ I
thought on another scripture which should definitely prove the point
being made. ‘Actually, as far as I can remember, Exodus 4:22 says
Israel is the firstborn SON of God. So you see, God is supposed to be
your father as an Israelite. And a father is supposed to have a
personal relationship with his children.’ David looked at her, and
went to his bag. He pulled out a book with Hebrew writing on it.
‘What is that?’ asked Frances. ‘It is the Torah in Hebrew. The
Pentateuch. You know, the first five books of the Bible. I want to
check the passage Justine mentioned.’ He turned to the page and,
after a few moments, closed the book. I looked at him. He had a
slightly different look on his face than usual. ‘Well? Was I
right?’ He looked at me and smiled. ‘Yeh. You were right. It was
sort of puzzling reading that verse, but yeh, you were right.’ I
nodded, always happy to be of help.



We talked then, that lunchtime, for quite a while. It was just the
four of us, as the others had classes that day. We talked for a solid
hour, each of us getting to know David Rothchild on a more personal
level, learning just what made our fascination tick. Just before he
left us, he took me aside. ‘Justine. This may sound a bit forward,
but would you like to do a bible study with me sometime. Perhaps you
could come over to my family’s home in Forrest, and you could meet my
parents, and we could talk about your church and our synagogue. You
know, exchange some ideas.’ I looked at him, trying my best to hide
my excitement, but ever so happy that such a wonderful request had
been made. ‘Yes, David. That would be great. When do you want to
meet up?’ ‘Are you busy Friday afternoon? From about 2.00 onwards?’
‘That is study time for me, but I can take the time out. It will be
ok.’ He scratched out his address on a piece of paper, with his email
address, and handed it to me. ‘If you need someone to pick you up, my
brother Daniel should be able to. One final thing. My family is
actually basically a Messianic family. I am the only one who is
traditional Jewish. They pretty much all accept Yeshua as the
Messiah, Daniel included. So you will probably all get along.’ I
looked at him, quite stunned. ‘You mean…. They are Christians?’ He
looked at me, a little relieved at my comment. ‘Well, basically,
yes. You see, I was baptized and brought up Messianic, but generally
don’t accept Yeshua in a divine or Messiah type of sense. Really, I
only basically accept the Torah as from God. I think the ancient
prophets mostly invented their words. They are not God’s words to
me. Because of that the issue of Jesus and Messiah is, strangely
enough, a non issue for me. To me he was just another Jewish teacher,
who went out, even possibly, on a God ordained mission to bring Torah
principle to the Gentiles. And because of that, I don’t really have
the hang-ups that other Jewish movements do. Jesus, really, to me,
was just another Jewish Rabbi or teacher. He just became incredibly
popular.’



I took all of that in, and thought on how I might respond to his
views. They were certainly original. I had never really thought on
just a ‘human’ Jesus who people could accept on his own human terms.
It seemed to be the perspective that David had on my saviour and,
quite strangely, it was one I actually had a little interest in
learning more about.



* * * * *



Daniel Rothchild sat with his wife Jessica Rothchild in his parent’s
new home in Forrest, the family having recently moved up from
Macarthur in Tuggeranong. David was the younger brother of Daniel, a
later addition to the family, who had been away at boarding school for
years, but had recently returned home. The Rothchild’s, as a family,
had grown up as Anglican’s, but Daniel had been the first to show
strong links to Messianic Christian faith, which was essentially the
Christian faith for Jews who were not part of mainstream churches.
And Daniel’s father, Alexander, had gradually likewise come towards
Messianic faith gradually, through Daniel’s constant talk on the
subject.



David and a very nervous Justine sat opposite Daniel and Jessica in
the large living room, while Alexander and his wife Rose finally
returned.



Justine had been finding Alexander and Daniel oh so friendly, just
like David, and while still a little nervous, felt oh so at home
amongst this very dedicated Christian family.



Rose, handing Justine her cup of tea, spoke to Justine. ‘Alexander
has retired recently, Justine. He worked in the Public Service here
in Canberra for many years, and when the home was payed off we both
concentrated heavily on putting as much money into superannuation as
possible so that, when we recently retired and claimed our super, we
had reaped such a nice return that we were able to by this wonderful
house in Forrest. It came through hard work, dear. Hard work and
dedicated saving in our latter years. Alexander was never that high
up in the service, nor myself, yet we found that if you work to a
strict budget, it is actually quite possible to further your own
situation and gain a greater blessing. I think sacrifice is the key
word in this situation.’

Justine nodded, happy to learn of David’s family success. Alexander
spoke up, ‘I guess like most modern Australian families, those of us
who have had success in gaining home ownership in our lifetimes, a
real key we have learned as a family is that God blesses hard work and
hard effort. I really believe he will make opportunities for you in
your life if you completely dedicate yourself, work hard and
persevere, taking your chances when they come along. It may sound
strange, but like Amy Grant sings ‘Love will find a way’. If you live
in love, and accept our great God, he will make a way for you in life,
and open all the doors for you. He is a very loving creator. But of
course, you grew up Baptist, didn’t you. I guess, like we have grown
into over many years, you would have been raised with a strong
Christian faith.’

Justine nodded politely.

Alexander looked at David, thinking on his Jewishness, and asked a
question he had been thinking of.

‘Justine. Do you know the song ‘The way we were?’

Rose pushed Alexander. ‘A bit obvious, love.’

Alexander grinned softly to himself, responding, ‘I guess so.’

David was a little embarrassed, and Justine asked him, ‘What?’

David responded. ‘The way we were is father’s favourite record
album. It is the story of a Jewish man and a protestant girl in
America finding love against the odds.’

‘Oh,’ said Justine, blushing slightly.



‘Are you planning on going to synagogue tonight, David? Asked Daniel,
curious about David’s possible response, in relation to a subject of
the validity of actually going anywhere on Sabbath, which seemed to
be, to David’s possible new position, against Torah teaching.

‘For tonight, yes,’ replied David. ‘At this stage the synagogue is
still in walking distance from home, and I have not reached any
definitive conclusion on the type of rest required on the Sabbath
yet. How absolute it is supposed to be. You see, the priesthood are
supposed to work on the Sabbath, so I assume that interaction with a
synagogue is perhaps appropriate. But it really should be close to
home, so as not to strain any effort on Sabbath.’ Daniel nodded,
taking that news in. The two of them had been slowly debating through
the issue, gradually coming to their conclusions.’

David spoke, turning to Justine, ‘I had actually hoped that you would
come to the synagogue with me tonight. To partake of the Progressive
service. It is not long, about 40 minutes. There is no real
preaching in Canberra, as we don’t have a Progressive Rabbi, but there
will be a basic ritual.’

I looked at David and nodded implicitly. In a strange way, I had
already known that it was probably the main reason he had invited me
to come along that night. And in my new curiousity about Jewish type
of faith I felt almost compelled to come along.

‘When do we go?’ I asked.

‘A little later on. It is not a far walk. Have you ever been to the
synagogue?’

‘I have seen it many times over my life, driving past, but no. I have
never been there.’

‘I hope you will enjoy your time there tonight. I think you will like
the Progressive community. They may not speak to you a great deal, as
you are new. And they will be cautious about the Christian
connection. But they will say hello.’

I nodded. ‘I understand.’

‘Good,’ said David. ‘Good. Well, until then, if it is ok by you
Justine, I would like to do that bible study. I would really like to
talk about the Christian doctrine – or I guess I should say Christian
doctrines – about God, as there are more than one.

I nodded, happy enough to discuss biblical subjects.



We talked then, for a couple of hours, and later on, as the afternoon
waned, made our way over to the synagogue. The service indeed was
quite basic, and the people were not overly welcoming, but because I
was with David, I think they accepted me a bit more so. But one thing
stood out. Although the service was quite basic, mixed with Hebrew
and English, my sense of the long history of the Jewish people and
their relationship with God was spoken to my heart by the Spirit
constantly while I was there. It was as if God had known this people
for so much longer than any other people, which I guessed was
historically correct, and that God wanted me to know this chosen
people of his. It was, that night, really an unforgettable
experience.







Chapter Four



Gemma Watkins sat in front of the university, down a side street on
some grass, listening to her MP3 player. Anastacia was playing on the
headset, the song ‘Left outside alone.’ Gemma was thinking on life.
Thinking, today, on life very seriously. Last night she had broken
down and cried. Cried ever so much. It was, in the end, a hollow
lifestyle. Simply carnal sex, while ever so tasty and nice to feel,
and ever so addictive, left you hollow in the end. It left you hollow
if it was just the carnal sex you were after. All the boys she had
known simply wanted her for her body and her good looks. They loved
fucking, her, so they claimed, and always complimented on her looks.
Yet, something was missing. Something that Gemma knew, really, in her
heart of hearts that she needed. Perhaps as much as oxygen. If it
was sex without love – it was sex without love. But of course, in the
words of her favourite band Van Halen, the real thing was poundcake.
If you found ‘real love’, then sex became beautiful. It became an
enhancement, a glorious addition to a beautiful romance. In real love
sexual fulfilment found its home.



She listened to the song. ‘And I wonder if you know, how it really
feels, to be left outside alone, when its cold out here, well maybe
you should know, just how it feels, to be left outside alone, to be
left outside alone.’ And then she heard those words, ‘heavenly
father, please, save me.’



She sat there. She sat there, relating to Anastacia. She had seen
the video for the song. It was actually one of her favourites. She
thought on Justine and the fact that Justine believed she was
‘saved’. Technically Frances sort of claimed the same thing
indirectly herself, occasionally saying, ‘yeh, I am saved too.’

Perhaps that was it. Perhaps she needed to be saved.



And then the next song, ‘Get ready’, came along, and in her tears she
burst into joy. Something had happened in her heart and, suddenly,
she felt better. As if that ‘God thing’ had touched her. And she
started singing the song along with Anastacia, ‘Ooh get ready!’



* * * * *



Frances Jones sat on the opposite side of the university grounds to
were Gemma was seated, just near her university flat were she
studied. She had a copy of the Bible which she had borrowed from the
university library. She wanted to look at this Pentateuch David had
gone on about. She was, just a little, riled by David. In a way,
while she was still attracted to him, he now got under her skin a
little with the things he had said against her church. Frances, as
strange as it may have sounded, had a belief about Christian faith.
And, while she was ever so aware that Justine was sort of trying to
get her saved and into her Baptist church, Frances in her heart
believed what the Pope usually said. There was really only one
church. One true church, the Catholic one. And that salvation,
ultimately, only lied in this church. She really believed that Jesus
was a friend of sinners. That was her Catholic faith. He cared for
the poor, the lost, the broken hearted. Those who were ‘Poor in
Spirit’. She didn’t go to church, but knew she didn’t need to. She
knew that her faith was all she needed. And she believed something
about being baptized a Catholic. Once you were baptized in the
Catholic Church, you were eternally saved. It was impossible for your
salvation to be lost, as the Catholic Church was the bride of Christ,
and Jesus would inevitably found the 100th lost sheep when he needed
to. She believed, in what Protestantism called lukewarmness, was
Catholic reality. Catholics, she felt, were far more honest about the
human condition. They didn’t pretend to be super spiritual people.
Really, most of them did sort of know that the fundies were more
puritanical and tried harder on that issue than Catholics generally
did. But, she so often thought, they were trying to save themselves.
She believed that God was saviour. He did the work to save his
church. Catholics didn’t need to try to be holy, from her
experience. She had observed for many years that, slowly, inevitably,
no matter how carnal they were at times, the spirit of God slowly and
carefully sanctified the bride of Christ as they grew in age. And
because of that she had faith that salvation wasn’t by her own
efforts, and that the simple philosophy of try not to piss God off to
much worked in a practical sense in harmony with God as he went about
his business of salvation for Christ’s bride.



* * * * *



Karenina looked up at the menu and ordered a chicken pie and an apple
juice, paid the money, and took a seat in the canteen. One of her
Muslim female friends waved to her, but continued on walking to her
next lecture.



She started eating the pie and drinking the juice. She thought on
David. Some of the things he had said to her about Jewish faith had
challenged her beliefs just a little. But in no real great way. She
felt that perhaps Allah was now softening David’s heart to bring him
to salvation as a Muslim. Allah was always happy when men’s hearts
were soft towards Muslims. The Christian girl, Justine, had seemed
one of the more devoted of the Christians. One of the biblical kind,
those who actually tried to please God. Karenina felt, perhaps, with
her witness of holiness, some of her new friends might take an
interest in Islam. She felt, very often, looking at this western
world that, as her Imam had told her, they had forgotten about serving
God and trying to be holy. It was almost as if the western world had
given up on the idea. Yet, that was to be expected. If you rejected
Allah and Muslim faith, God would likely reject you. It was their
punishment for their religious pride.



She finished her pie, and swallowed the last of her juice. She looked
out the window as the students went about their lives. In her heart,
Karenina was at peace. There was a very true and quiet peace – a
peace from God which honoured holiness, his greatest desire in the
hearts of the children of men. It seemed that Karenina, whatever the
truth of salvation, rested in the glory of peace from a heart that had
simply ‘submitted’ to God and not exalted itself in arrogance against
the will of the most high. But one, who in quiet gentle feminine
peace and servitude, accepted the yoke of obedience to God’s holy
laws. It was through such submission to God, that the peace in
Karenina’s heart lived and remained.



* * * * *



I looked into the mirror, brushing my hair, staring at my face
considering my looks. I guess, in the end, I was basically pretty.
Not a stunner, but still a bit above average. Of that I assumed to
God I should be thankful, but it had never really concerned me a great
deal. Yet, today, I was cautious with my makeup as I wanted to look
very pretty for David as he had asked the three of us out to a
restaurant in Tuggeranong, to have, of all things, supposedly the best
pizza in town.



I looked myself over before leaving and, finally happy with how I
looked, crossed my fingers and wished for the best.



I picked up Gemma and then Frances, as I drove a small hatchback
having just got my license, which the other two girls hadn’t got yet.



We made our way through Canberra down south, going past the hospital
and up the incline till we arrived in Tuggeranong valley. David’s
family used to live in Macarthur, which is just near the Chisholm
shops were the Pizza place was.



We arrived a little after 7.00 pm, a little late, but we weren’t
really that worried.



Coming inside we found David at a table, with a Coke, looking through
his Hebrew Torah. Noticing us he got to his feet and greeted us,
giving each of us a kiss on the cheek, upon which the three of us
blushed.



‘Here is the menu. I really recommend the Pizzas, but the pasta is
good as well.’

‘What sort of Pizza do you like, David’, Gemma asked.

‘All sorts, I guess. Mexicano and Meateaters are perhaps my
favourites, though.’

‘Then I will have a Mexicano,’ responded Gemma.

‘You would,’ said Frances. I smiled nervously, and looked through the
menu.

‘I think I will have pasta. The lasagne should be fine.’

‘Then lasagne it is. And you Frances?’ he asked of Ms Jones.

‘Oh, whatever you think is best,’ she said.

Gemma gave her a funny look, and Frances returned it, as if to suggest
they were both trying to get David’s attention.

David, while not being noticed by either in how he was aware of this,
did in fact notice but was well hidden in that – but I noticed.



After the meals arrived, I slowly sipped on my mineral water, and with
the fork toyed with my lasagne. I wasn’t that hungry, but knew I had
to keep up appearances.



‘So tell me, David. What do you look for in a woman?’ Gemma asked oh
so sincerely, staring into his eyes. Frances looked at her in a way
which was suggesting she was oh so obvious.

I just continued with my lasagne.

‘In a woman?’ started David, in response. He finished his mouthful of
pizza, and answered. ‘I guess, what I would look for in a wife is
faithfulness. I am not really interested in marrying someone if she
wants to divorce me later on – somewere down the road. I am old
fashioned, in a sense. If we take vows, I would hope that the vows
would be sincere.’

I noted that. Very much did I note what he said, but I kept my
thoughts to myself. He was, though, a man of integrity I felt.



‘Oh, I feel absolutely the same way, David. Absolutely the same way,’
responded Gemma. Under her breath Frances whispered ‘yeh right.’



‘So tell me, Justine. What do you look for in a man?’ David asked,
turning his attention to me. I blushed a little, not ready for such a
question, and my two best friends stared at me as if I was the world’s
biggest harlot. But I managed to respond.



‘Well, normally I would look for a man who was totally dedicated to
Christ and living for God. But, I guess, I could make exceptions if
the man was of high moral fibre otherwise. I guess how moral he is
will probably be the most important thing, in the end.’ Of course, I
wasn’t being truthful. I wasn’t being truthful at all. But, again
perhaps I was. Perhaps I was so entranced by this David fellow that I
was willing to compromise what had become a certainty in my marriage
partner – that of a committed Christian – for the vain hope that he
might take an interest in me because, well, he was really a very fine
catch.



David responded. ‘I know full well how faith and love can be very
difficult to balance, at times. But perhaps, as the apostle Paul
might say, love is the greatest of all.’



I smiled a little at him then, but kept my thoughts to myself. He was
quoting Corinthians 13, and in a way which was very profound in the
current circumstances. In truth, I was impressed.



We continued that night, chatting on this and that, eating a lot of
pizza, despite ourselves, and feeling fat by 10.00pm, which was
closing time. David, so generous, paid the entire bill, and we really
felt like we were in the company of an old fashioned gentleman. It
was really quite different to the usual modern type of Canberra guy.



Again he kissed each of us goodnight with a peck on the cheek, and as
we drove back up north the three of us had our eyes and our hearts
firmly set on catching the love of Mr David Rothchild.







Chapter Five



I put my hand up quickly, trying to make sure I was first to answer
the teachers question. He chose me and I started my response. ‘The
Constitution of Australia impacts on Australian life in this manner.
Firstly, it defines what areas the Federal Government can make law
about and, were it is silent on this issue, it is assumed that the
remaining areas are the privilege of the States to make law about.
Secondly, law passed within the Parliaments of Australia are required
to be constitutional in nature. This means that if any element of a
proposed bill is deemed as unconstitutional, it should necessarily be
rejected. And if this is not done immediately, it can be repealed at
a later date. Finally, the overall impact of the constitution is that
through such establishment within it of the principles of everyday
life which our Governments can make law for society, implicit within
it is a sense of our rights as a nation. We understand what our
Governments can and can not do, and what rights we have as a result of
that.’

Mr Smith looked at me smiling, responding. ‘An excellent answer
Justine. Very good.’

David, sitting next to me, looked at me and smiled. ‘Good answer,
Justine,’ he said, and I mildly blushed at the comment.



Later on, after class, the 3 of us girls, with David and Karenina were
sitting in the Canteen, discussing various things.



David was, in fact, mildly flirting with all 3 of us, which suggested
to me that he was being circumspect in any attractions that he
possibly felt to any of us. Perhaps he was just being cautious.



After we had eaten and the other girls had left, David asked me if I
would like to go out to the movies on Saturday night with him. He
told me he had something to share with me, if it would be alright. I,
without hesitation, agreed.



* * * * *



I was nervous. Dad was sitting opposite me, having just given me a
conversation about Jews. We, as Baptists, felt we had a very good
reputation with the Jewish people in as much as we were not largely
responsible for the many centuries of persecution other Christian
churches had perpetuated against them as a people. He told me very
firmly, though, that Jewish leaders resented strongly Christian
evangelists trying to convert them to Christianity and warned me that
in discussing these issues with David to remain polite, very ethical,
and mainly responsive to his questions if he had any so as to not
appear forcing or zealous. As Baptists, so he claimed, we were trying
to have a reputation of a loving, merciful and kind people. Something
that people might like to join because of our love for each other, he
firmly taught me.



When David arrived I invited him in and we had a discussion for a
little while on various small-talk issues, before Dad said David was
welcome to come visit me whenever he liked, to which David seemed
quite appreciative.



As we left, David commented to me that he liked my father, and that I
obviously had been brought up well, which I took as a very kind
compliment.



We drove through the streets of my suburb, heading for the movie
theatre at Manuka. Tonight was showing ‘Lethal Assassin’, a new
thriller with Angelina Jolie as a female hit-lady for hire.



Watching the movie, I found it incredibly exciting and a little scary
at times, all the time, though, hoping and perhaps expecting David to
put his arm around my shoulder, which unfortunately never eventuated.



In the foyer, after the movie, we were sitting eating up the last of
the popcorn and drinking coke when David made the announcement which,
after weeks of worry and concern about my love life for Mr David
Rothchild, put an end to the matter once and for all.



Looking at me he spoke. ‘You know, Justine. Over the last few weeks
I have found myself incredibly drawn to you. You are bright,
intelligent, loving and beautiful.’ I blushed strongly at being
called beautiful. ‘But, there is something I haven’t told you.’ I
looked at him, then, a little worried about the ‘but’, but I was sure
it would be nothing. How wrong I was.

‘You see, Justine. For me, for me being Jewish, it really is
important that, unless the circumstances are exceptional, that I marry
a Jewish girl. And, because of that, while I know she is only a
little Jewish, but because she does have some Jewish blood in her and
because that is important to me, I have decided to start dating Gemma
as she has expressed an interest in me for doing so. So that is the
real reason I wanted to ask you here tonight. To share with you that
me and Gemma will now be dating. I am really sorry if that has
disappointed you, but that is the way it is.’



I looked at him and, right then, an arrow pierced my heart. An arrow
with ‘Cupid always shoots the OTHER girl written on it.’ Really, I
was heartbroken. I was heartbroken, and lost for words. David was
still talking, mumbling something about Gemma and being Jewish, but I
wasn’t listening. My world had turned upside down, and nothing made
sense right then. What I thought on love and commitment had turned on
itself, and in a way I felt betrayed.



As he drove me home there was silence in the car. We go to my place,
I thanked him curtly, and while he was looking a little embarrassed, I
walked up to my door and went inside.



It was the end of my uni love, that summer. It was a love I had only
begun to taste, but one which had been taken away from me as soon as
it had begun. I was disappointed but, in my room, listening to a
Christian CD, I concluded that, in the end, such was life. It did not
always take the road most expected but, and while I wanted to not
believe what the singer was singing, it always worked out for the best
for those who loved God.



But, oh how I didn’t want to believe those words just then. And then
I started crying.





Chapter Six



6007 SC





I sat in my new Porsche, looking at the ATM, with the rain pouring
down outside. I was contemplating wether or not I really wanted to
get wet and get the cash out to go to the nightclub, or to instead go
home and simply veg out as I usually did on Friday nights. It was a
tough decision, but driving along, my purse only containing the small
change which had lasted the week, I decided yet again to catch up on
some work and leave the nightclub scene well enough alone.



Gemma had introduced me to the club last year when she was in town for
a visit. She and David had still been an item at that stage, as far
as I knew it, but they were yet to wed. In truth, while I had tried
my very best to put memories of David Rothchild behind me, especially
during our many embarrassing encounters in university with Gemma and
myself after he had declared his love for Gemma and not me and, then,
finally graduating with honours and getting the job with the Sydney
firm, in living in Sydney my heart still from time to time longed
after David. I think, in truth, despite what I told my heart time and
time again should not be so – I think in truth I loved David. I loved
him purely, honestly and truly. Perhaps as the bride of Christ ought
to love her lord did I love David. Yet he had not chosen me. In all
our time in university he had been devoted to Gemma and they had
usually been inseparable. I assumed, despite the vanity in my heart
that my love for him would one day win out, that the two of them would
eventually get married. How wrong I was.



‘Shut up, ok. Just shut up. You know……………………’. It was about then,
20 minutes into the movie, filled with swearing and violence like so
many modern flicks were, that I’d had enough. I had rented the DVD as
a last resort to abstaining from the club scene, but had found it so
much like the rest of them. It seemed to me that so many new movies
were soul-less – full of violence, cheek and profanity, not too
mention the immoral sex, that I was almost only really comfortable
with the old 1980s movies my mother and I watched together. It seemed
to me that movies like ‘The Man from Snowy River’ were becoming rarer,
most movie makers going for the motto ‘Sex Sells’ rather than
traditional values. My brother Peter, who had never been into church
that much, seemed to like all the new modern movies, suiting his
taste, but for my conservative self they were too tasteless and
indecent to watch. I was almost to the point that unless it was an
historical drama set in days long ago then it was probably not worth
watching. Still, many of the superhero movies which Peter also liked
were still suitable for children, with positive morals and nothing to
profane within them, and things like Spiderman and Batman and others I
watched quite a bit. And some of the bigger blockbusters still had a
standard of decency. But so many of the other films really were
tasteless and classless these days. It really seemed that that was
the way the world was heading.



The Baptist church I attended in Balmain emphasized that Jesus second
coming was indeed now approaching. The world was progressively all
the time accepting more and more sinful behaviour into its living
standards. ‘God will soon not tolerate it any more, church. Soon he
will judge.’ And, while I had drifted away from Christian
fundamentalism during my uni years, having gotten used to university
rationalist thinking, and generally rejected the fundamentalist
approach to biblical thinking, I could not deny the basic truth that
the lifestyles of so many peoples these days really seemed to fit the
biblical description of a ‘Sinner’. The world, in truth, was not as
holy as it once was. It was now so much more carnal, and perhaps
Hollywood and movies like the one I had just rented had been such a
major reason for this.



It was late. Around 1.30. I had finished most of my weekend work and
had decided that I deserved a movie. The one I rented was no good, so
I put on a classic – ‘Titanic’. Jack Dawson – now he was every girl’s
dream. Mr perfection was Jack. A guy to die for.



With the music ‘My Heart will go on’, coming from my expensive LCD
Set, there was a knock at the door. A faint knock, but I heard it.
‘Who could it be at this hour, I thought to myself?’



I got up, went to the door, and looked through the peephole. The face
seemed familiar, but I was not sure who it was. I kept the chain on,
and opened the door. The man spoke. ‘Justine. It’s David. Can I
come in?’ My heart froze. DAVID! David Rothchild! I couldn’t
believe it. ‘Just a sec, David. I undid the chain, and opened the
door. Indeed, standing before me, wearing a beard so that I didn’t
recognize him, was my long lost love, mr David Rothchild. He looked
at me and smiled. ‘Hey Justine. You look…. You look as pretty as I
remember you.’ I blushed.

‘Well, come in then. Your hair is saturated.’

‘Oh yeh. I was standing out front of the flats, not sure if I should
come in or not. Really, I am not sure if I should even be here.’

I looked at him, not wanting to dispute what he had said, but not
caring anyway. I was just glad to see my love again.

‘Why are you here David?’

‘It’s me and Gemma. We have split up.’

Those words, while they would have in normal circumstances brought
concern for my best friend Gemma’s circumstances, were actually words
of hope to me just then.

‘You’ve split up? But why? How? Don’t you love her?’

‘Loving her is not really the problem, Justine. It’s not that I don’t
love her – it’s not that at all. It’s just that, well, you know. She
is Gemma. And despite the fact that she also managed to get the law
degree, and that she really is smart but doesn’t show it, she is,
well, how do I say it.’

‘She’s a bimbo,’ I offered.

He looked at me with a guilty look and after a few moments nodded
softly.

‘The question is – why have you come to me? I can understand that
things didn’t work out between you and Gemma, but why come and see
me?’

‘Because….. Well. Really, I needed to talk to someone – someone who
could understand my situation. My family is pretty close to Gemma,
now. But you knew us from the start, and I feel you are almost an
impartial voice. But there was another reason.’

‘And that reason?’ I asked, not sure if I should.

‘I wanted to see you again. The truth is for a while now, since you
left Canberra, I have been thinking of you. I have been thinking of
Gemma and that, in the end, it probably won’t work between me and Gem
and that my first choice, you, may have been the best.’

‘I was your first choice? Really?’

‘Pretty much. It is still very important to me that my wife have a
Jewish connection, and I know you are a Baptist. But I still care for
you Justine, despite myself.’

‘The mystery of love, huh?’

‘You could say that.’

‘Well,’ I continued. ‘Do you need somewere to stay tonight? You can
stay in the other room if you want to.’

‘Uh, well, yeah. I had not really thought about that, but yes. I am
getting tired, and if I could get some sleep in your spare room I
would appreciate it.’

I showed him to my spare room which had a bed made up.

‘Fortunately, being a lawyer, as you would probably know I am on a
good wage. I can afford this two bedroom place and don’t need to
share. Look, David. I haven’t seen you for so long and, if you want
to spend a few days to catch up, it might be good for both of us. Do
you want to?’

He looked at me and smiled.

‘I actually asked work for a week off – leave without pay. So, yes.
If you don’t mind, I will spend the week.’

I nodded, silently very pleased to have some company.

‘Good. We can discuss work as well. I would like to hear about your
work in the Public Service.’

‘And you can tell me about the private sector.’

‘Ever so happy to.’

I gave him a towel and showed him were the shower and toilet were, and
gave him a kiss on the forehead. Just before leaving him alone he
said to me,

‘You know, it really is good to see you Justine. I have missed you.’
I nodded.



Sitting in front of the Titanic, watching it but not watching it,
hearing the shower going, I was in my own little piece of heaven.
Somehow, perhaps, hopefully perhaps, all my hard work in life,
finishing my degree, getting my job and apartment – all of that had
hopefully prepared the way for the love of my life, David Rothchild,
to now share his life with me. I could only hope.



* * * * *



He sat on the stool of my kitchen table, looking at the morning paper,
chewing on the toast with vegemite I had given him, sipping on some
orange juice. ‘The Raiders won,’ he stated. ‘Football!’ I
exclaimed. ‘And here I was thinking you were a serious lawyer and
all.’

‘Gemma put me on to the footie. She has a former friend who played
reserve grade for the raiders. I even collect the football cards
now. Just as a minor hobby.’

‘Aren’t you a little bit old for football cards, David?’

‘Oh, mainly just the chase cards.’

‘Chase cards? What are they?’

‘The Valuable ones. The special insert cards. You know, foil,
chromium, and so on. Rare ones which are worth more.’

‘Oh. So it’s an investment thing then?’

‘Something like that.’

‘Then that is ok then. Actually, I have some you may be interested
in. Some 1980s raiders trading cards. My dad gave them to me when I
was very young, mainly as an investment. But you can have them if you
are in to that sort of thing.’

‘1980s? Seriously? They are practically impossible to get these
days, the market now booming for collectibles.’

‘Really? Well perhaps I should keep them, then.’

‘Yes, you should.’

‘I’m kidding. I would love you to have them. In fact, I know just
were they are. Hold on a sec.’ I disappeared into my room and found
a box with some personal possessions which I kept, opened it and
fished around and found some cards in plastic sleeves, surrounded by a
rubber band. I fished them out and went back to show them to David.

He looked over them, seeming quite excited.

‘Ricky Stuart. Bradley Clyde. Mal Meninga. Laurie Daley. Hey,
Justine, You’ve got all the good ones. And these ones are worth heaps
now. I mean, not much for a lawyer on your wage, but really they are
now worth a few thousand some of those ones.’

‘Really? That much?’

‘Oh yeah. Since the early 21st century collectibles have risen up and
up in value. There are now so many people in a higher bracket of
income looking for a good investment that collectables of all sorts,
especially limited edition stuff which many of these cards are, are in
huge demand. If it is old, and was valuable, than it is worth heaps
these days. In fact, on older cards, the market was out of control
for the 2020s. Everyone wanted 20th century cards and would pay top
dollar. The 20th century had become the golden age – the first
century of all that collectible stuff – just like comics – and
everyone wanted a piece of it for a while. I am so grateful my
parents kept so much of that stuff and never sold it.’

‘Tell me, why the fuss?’

‘To tell you the truth, while I am pretty happy as a lawyer, and feel
like I am contributing to society working at AQIS in their legal
department, I think I would be happier opening the store me and my
brother Daniel have dreamt of. 20th Century collectibles. We really
think it could be a major success, especially as we have a large
amount of stock to contribute to it, and a huge number of connections
to source supply.’

‘20th Century Collectibles? That sounds like a good idea, actually.
I wish you luck.’

‘Thanks Justine. Anyway, what do you want to do today? It’s
Saturday, so I’m assuming you probably don’t have to be in the
office.’

‘No, I have the day off. I will probably need to work a little later
on – some minor work stuff. But they don’t give me cases that often,
and mostly minor things. Apart from that it is routine research for
one of the partners in their cases. Actually, the work is pretty
good. It allows me to show my talent, and contribute, but is not too
difficult. Really, it is a good introduction to law were I work. I’m
really happy with it.’

‘That is great to hear.’

‘Ok. What to do? Mmmm. Sydney is a big place, and I still don’t
know my way around that well, but why don’t we go into Darling
Harbour, have some lunch, and just sightsee around the Rocks and do
not much. Maybe a movie later on in the afternoon, followed by
dinner, and then we can come back here and have coffee and bikkies.’

‘Sounds wonderful, sweetie.’

I smiled. I smiled, ever so happy and pleased to be called sweetie,
and ever so happy that life, with all its ups and downs, finally
seemed to be working out.





Chapter Seven



Monday morning. Monday morning, such a sweet day. The weekend with
David had been bliss and, now, sitting at my desk, staring out the
window of the office, not really concentrating on my work, I was alive
with hope for the future between myself and Mr David Rothchild that I
at first failed to notice the new man which was about to come into my
life.



‘Justine. Justine. Hello. Earth to Justine. Anyone home?’ I
listened to my supervisor, Jason Stevenson, a partner in the firm,
talk but just stared out the window, nodding obliviously. Suddenly I
came to myself.

‘Oh, shit. Sorry Jason. I was miles away.’

‘Obviously. Anyway, as brought up in Friday’s meeting, I would like
to introduce you to the newest partner in our firm. Justine Atkinson
– this is Robert Davies – newest partner in our firm.’

I turned to the figure he introduced and, suddenly, my heart melted.
There before me was Adonis himself, long blonde hair, divine looks,
well built, and dressed to kill. And his smile was simply from
heaven. He took my hand, and giving it a kiss, said.

‘Justine. The pleasure is all mine. Believe me.’

I just looked at him, to overcome by his presence to be able to
speak. I just stared at him for a few moments, before coming back to
myself.

‘Oh, yes. I’m Justine. Justine Atkinson. And, oh, the pleasure
really is mine Robert. It really is mine.’

‘Great to hear, sweetie. Great to hear.’

Jason continued. ‘Justine really is hard to live without now,
Robert. Simply put, she is competent. We can rely on her to do a
thoroughly professional job and if she stays with us partnership will
undoubtedly be hers one day. But don’t tell anyone I said so, ok
Justine. But yes, you have been noticed.’

‘I smiled at Jason, quite pleased at that news, but couldn’t take my
eyes off Robert.’

Jason made as to leave, but Robert turned to me.

‘Tell you what, Justine. Seeing as I am new, how about you take me
out to lunch and give me some idea of the firm – from a grassroots
perspective that you handle. Ok. It will be illuminating, I am sure
of it.’

‘Oh, sure. I can hardly wait.’

And although I had a lunch date with David, he had completely slipped
my mind.



* * * * *



‘Your kidding me, aren’t you? You’re a Baptist as well?’

‘I sort of have been all my life. I was baptized at 7 having made the
commitment very young. For me, Justine, Jesus is everything. The
centre of my life. What it is all about.’

I nodded. I nodded, simply in heaven. The man of my dreams was
sitting with me, here in a café at the shops near the law firm,
telling me he had been a Baptist all his life, had successfully
studied law at the University of Sydney, and was now, having just
turned 31, in the prime of his law life, ready to reach for the sky.
Really, if there was ever a man with ‘Mr Right’ written all over him,
Robert Davies was him 100%.



We sat there that lunch time and well into the afternoon. We sat
there, Robert assuring me that the firm would not mind him stealing
all of my time, as he was now a partner and had a say in what went
on. When we returned to the office, nobody batted an eyelid, and when
Robert asked me out to dinner that night, I could hardly say no. I
was absolutely smitten. There were no other words to describe it.
And when I was driving home that night, looking forward to Robert
picking me up at 7.00, I had no other thoughts than about the Adonis
who I was to spend time with. And then it hit me. David. I had
completely forgotten all about David, had missed our lunch date, and
was now bringing home another guy when I had promised to spend the
week with Mr Rothchild. Oh, what was I to do now. What the heck was
I to do now. I had heard of love triangles, but they were certainly
for other women, not conservative me. In fact, only a few days ago I
could have only dreamed of being asked out by a guy, and now there
were two of them calling. What on earth was I to do.



* * * * *



Coming through the doorway, I heard them instantly. Two voices –
David’s and, I was quite sure, Francine Jones, my other best friend
from high school and uni days. I came into my living room and the two
of them were sitting on the floor, my coffee table between them,
drinking coffee, looking through my picture album and chatting
happily. When Francine spied me she got off her feet and came over to
hug me.

‘Justine! It’s awesome to see you.’

‘It’s lovely to see you to Francine. But what are you doing here? I
thought you were busy in Perth now?’

‘That contract came to an end. They offered me a renewal, but I felt
I would come back home to mum for a while and see what was happening
in Canberra. This is where my friends are, you know, and it is the
place I am happiest. I am happier, I think, on the east coast than
the west.’

I nodded, understanding were she was coming from. But I anxiously
turned to David.

‘Dear David, I am so sorry I missed our lunch date. Can you ever
forgive me?’

‘That’s ok. Think nothing of it. I just assumed something came up at
work and left after about an hour. Really, I know you are busy with
your work Justine. I don’t expect all your time, you know.’

‘But I am glad you found some company with Francine. You two seem to
be getting along like a house on fire.’

‘We have had the time of our lives,’ responded Francine.

‘Good to hear.’

I turned to David, trying my best to break the news I had without
hurting his feelings.

‘David, I know you are going to hate me, but I am having dinner with
one of the partners at work tonight. He is a new partner and needs
help in adjusting to our office. So if it is ok can we call off our
plans for tonight? Really, I am terribly sorry. I know it is such
short notice, but it couldn’t be helped. Really.’

David nodded, calmly. He seemed a little disappointed, but the
presence of Francine perhaps consoled him somewhat.

‘That’s ok Justine. I know you have your work responsibilities.’ He
turned to Francine. ‘It looks like it is just you and me,
sweetheart,’ he said with his best Casablanca accent. ‘Shall we hit
the town?’

‘Love to,’ replied Francine. She seemed, although she would not say
so, but she seemed ever so happy to see me caught up with other work,
so that she could spend some time with Mr David Rothchild. She, like
me and Gemma, had always fancied him anyway.

David looked at me, and kissed me on the cheek.

‘Well, Justine. We will see you when you get back. We can talk then,
ok.’

I nodded, staring at him, but my mind caught up on my quandary. He
was leaving now, it seemed, which was perhaps for the best. Perhaps
best for him not to see Robert. Perhaps best, all things considered.



* * * * *



‘So when dad died, it was up to me to help out most of the time as mum
couldn’t work due to her back problems, and it was left up to me to
help raise Hyacinth.’

I nodded sympathetically, taking in Robert’s story of how he help
raised his sister Hyacinth since he was a teenager. It showed how
good his heart was, I felt, even though he stressed it was his
Christian obligation given the circumstances.

‘So where is Hyacinth now?’

‘She works in a boutique clothes store in the city. She is now full
time and the pay is pretty good. Not as good as a lawyer, but she has
all she needs, so she tells me. If you would like to meet her I could
invite her to church this Sunday. You could meet her and we could
have lunch at my place. What do you say?’

‘Sounds wonderful. I can hardly wait.’



Robert Davies had related to me much of his life story. He had been
raised in a Baptist home, one of the older ones of the Sydney
community going back many generations. And while he had been mostly
responsible for helping raise his sister Hyacinth when his father had
died, they did have an extensive family in the Canterbury region of
Sydney and throughout much of South Sydney. He had told me, now that
he had gotten a flat not far from mine in Balmain, that he would be
likely attending the Balmain Baptist church. It was the church I
regularly attended and it seemed, now that I had a new male friend of
similar age to go to church with, as if all things were turning out as
I perhaps should only have dreamed of. Yet, while I was sitting
there, occasionally taking a sip of wine, my heart was with David
Rothchild. The fascination of meeting Robert Davies – the simple
overwhelming experience of it all – was now passing, and I was
accepting Robert more on his own terms. And while I could not fault
him in any way – indeed I felt as if I was falling for him – my heart
had been knit to David Rothchild for so long now that I felt compelled
to think on him while dining with this new gentleman.



We drank wine late – until 11 – and then, he assuring me he had drunk
slowly and was well under the limit, we made our way back to my place.



Arriving at my flat I noticed that the light was on. Robert asked me
if I was interested in a nightcap and, although I was nervous to
introduce him to David, I felt obliged. Coming into my flat, David
and Francine were sitting next to each other, looking very comfortable
with each other, watching Titanic. They both looked up as I entered
the room.

‘David, Francine. This is Robert. A new workmate of mine. Actually,
he is a new partner at the firm and we spent the night getting to know
each other.’

Robert waved to David and Francine, smiling, and saying,

‘Hi.’

David waved back, likewise smiled nervously, and Francine waved but
returned her gaze to Titanic.

‘Shall we?’ I asked Robert, leading the way into the kitchen, while
David stared after us, but didn’t move from his couch with Francine.



I put the kettle on, and asked him wether he would like tea or
coffee. He opted for an earl grey, and I decided to have a lady grey
to match him.

We sat there for half an hour, getting to know each other more, eating
some Cadbury’s chocolate, and it really was a blissful time. I
thought on David in the other room often, but he never came in to
bother us. Perhaps he was content with Francine. Perhaps he trusted
me. Perhaps he should, I thought to myself. Yet, perhaps he
shouldn’t.



Eventually, a little after midnight, Robert left, and I came into the
room with David and Francine. Francine was asleep, lying on David’s
legs, while David was watching the ending of Titanic. He looked at
me.

‘Good night?’

‘Excellent. Robert is a wonderful man. He is a Baptist, you know.
He will be going to my church in Balmain soon.’

David nodded. He nodded and, in his eyes, I saw as if he had made a
quick conclusion. A conclusion on what perhaps life had brought him –
how it had answered some of his questions.

‘I am happy for you, Justine. Perhaps he is Mr Right.’

I looked at him. I looked straight at him, into his eyes.

‘David. I don’t know if there really is a Mr Right. I think, really,
there are so many suitable partners for each and every one of us. But
when it’s love. When it’s love, then it means something. Ya know.’

He stared at me briefly, and nodded. And then he returned to Titanic.



I lay in bed that night, David sleeping on the couch and Francine
resting in the bed in the spare room where David had laid her. I laid
there staring up at the ceiling. ‘Yes, when it’s love it means
something. When its love.’





Chapter Eight





The following morning me and David and Francine were at breakfast in
the small café near where I live, having croissants and coffee. I was
chatting with Francine idly, while David was occasionally staring at
me, trying to be subtle, but I noticed him every time. I told
Francine all about Robert and she listened intently. She asked me if
Robert was the one for me, and my silence only suggested that I was
dead keen, something which David noted. But I noticed, sitting there,
David was quiet, and looked mildly depressed. I loved him. So much
did I love him, yet my heart was leading me towards Roberts. Perhaps,
inevitably so, towards Robert Davies. And if that was what was meant
to be, David Rothchild would ultimately have to live with the
consequences.



I left for work, kissing David on the cheek, and Francine said she
would now be heading back for Canberra. I left for work, thinking on
David and his heart, but nevertheless smitten by Mr Robert Davies.



* * * * *



I sat at my desk, while Robert was leaning over my shoulder, talking
with me about a paper I had researched. I could smell his aftershave,
which was an alluring smell. I almost wanted to reach out and grab
him – almost let primal instincts take over, but I controlled myself.
When he was about finished he whispered in my ear that I looked
stunning that morning, and that he would be at church on the weekend
with his sister Hyacinth. I could hardly wait.



* * * * *



I sat in between Hyacinth and Robert, listening to the Sermon on
forgiveness. The pastor emphasized that God’s love was so great for
us that he would not leave us in a state of sin, but had given the
life of his beloved son Jesus to reconcile us to himself and through
the blood of Christ forgive us our sins. It was really the central
message of the Christian faith, a reaffirmation of what we believed as
Christians, and the whole congregation listened intently. I felt our
particular pastor was quite skilled in his work, now, having
apparently pastored this church for the last 15 years. He was warm,
very good with people, and people genuinely liked him. His preaching
was nothing really out of the ordinary – the usual stuff – but he
delivered sermons competently and nobody really complained. I
introduced Robert to him at the end of the service, but he already
knew Robert quite well as Robert’s family had been well established in
the Baptist community for many years.



There was a small after church tea service, and we enjoyed ourselves,
sipping on tea, eating scones and biscuits, and hearing a talk on the
mission’s field in Africa were revival was currently taking place.
Or, perhaps to be more precise, given my knowledge of Baptist affairs,
were revival had been taken place for years. In truth I felt it was
just the ongoing work of the church, but would not say so. They liked
to emphasize that they were doing something for the commission, but it
was mostly the steady everyday work of evangelism. Nothing greatly
new, but not that it worried the congregation too much.



We left for Robert’s place about 11.00, Robert telling me that his
mother may be able to join them perhaps another time. She was really
looking forward to meeting me, so she said, and it seemed that while
Robert Davies was the man of my dreams, perhaps I was the missing
piece in his life which had fallen into place. I seemed to sense that
from some of the things that Hyacinth had been saying.



‘So tell me, Justine. Do you really like my brother?’

Robert was in the kitchen, preparing the lunch, while myself and
Hyacinth were in the main living room of his flat, drinking Cola and
watching the television.

‘I think Robert is a wonderful guy, Hyacinth. Really, he is a gem.
There are not many like him.’

‘I have always thought so. Has he told you that he mostly raised me
when dad died. And he did an awesome job. Never complaining and
putting up with all my crap. He’s the best brother I could possibly
have hoped for, you know. Really, he’s awesome.’

I nodded. The things she was saying really were hitting home and I
was starting to get the impression that God had led me directly to Mr
Davies. Directly to him to satisfy that old longing of my heart for
the perfect match.

‘He likes you, you know. He could not stop talking about you over the
phone. It was Justine this and Justine that. You know, I think he’s
that keen on you.’

I blushed a little. I had already gotten that impression. From some
of the ways he had already complimented me I knew that Mr Robert
Davies was perhaps already looking at me for marriage. Perhaps he was
the one, as my mother would put it.



Robert came into the room, carrying a large silver tray filled with
Chinese spring rolls and other Chinese dim sum assortments. They
looked ever so tasty.

‘Dig in,’ he said. ‘And there are plenty more if we need them. I
love this kind of food – snacky sort of stuff – and it doesn’t take
long to cook. So eat up.’

I reached for a spring roll, dipped it into the sauce and took a
bite. It was as delicious as it looked, and Robert smiled at me, and
tucked in.



We spent the rest of that afternoon watching some old movies, even
some preaching tapes, and we played on Robert’s copy of ‘Space
Invaders’ for 2 hours, which was the genuine old sit down arcade
machine which he had in the corner of his room. It was strangely
addictive, and Robert challenged each of us, but inevitably came out
on top. I told him he had more experience and that I could defeat him
with a little practice, to which he just grinned.



We went out for dinner that night, going to a nearby restaurant in
Balmain, one which I had occasionally been to myself. The topic
turned to romance, of all things. Hyacinth informed us that she was
now dating a guy who worked in the shoe shop opposite her shop. He
was an Anglican who went to church regularly, which was naturally
important to Hyacinth. Strangely enough, the conversation turned to
what was important in a marriage partner, and Hyacinth asked me a
crucial question.

‘Do you think you could marry outside of the faith, Justine. Do you
think you could marry a non-Christian? Really I don’t think I could.
The bible is clear on the issue – not to mix dark with light. But I
know some people do. Sometimes it works out alright, but often it
really doesn’t, you know. Often it is the biggest mistake of their
life.’

I sat there listening to what she had to say. Very carefully
listening, as I had a well developed perspective on that particular
issue, for obvious reasons.

‘I know the Apostle Paul said that, but I know he also said Love
conquers all. If the other person is a decent person, love can
conquer all divides.’

Robert looked at me and nodded.

‘But it is usually for the best when love doesn’t have to be tested as
such, and that someone who is made for you fits right into your life,
don’t you think Justine? When the match is perfect?’

I looked at him, and nodded softly. I looked at him, understanding
what he had just said, it hitting home strongly. Yes, it was true.
Sometimes there were matches made in heaven. And shouldn’t they,
after all, be the ones were our heart has its best home?



We continued to again chat the night away, each of us learning more
about the other, before Robert said he should be getting me home.



We drove through Balmain that night, and I sat in Robert’s car
thinking of the words he had said. I sat there thinking on the
anxiety which had come into my heart because of those words. There
was a love in my life. Yet a love which was of a world and a people
foreign to my own, and what was supposed to be, if I were to believe
what my church taught, an eternal separation. And there was another
love. A perfect love, so it would seem. A love almost made for me.
The choice, it seemed, was no choice. As if it had already been made.



Robert and Hyacinth bid me farewell when we reached my flat, and
Robert kissed me goodnight. The kiss, really, was wonderful, and my
heart fluttered.



Coming into the flat, Robert driving away with Hyacinth, I knew that
David was waiting for me inside. I knew he was waiting, would be
anxious, and I wasn’t quite sure I knew what to say. I had fallen for
Robert Davies. I had fallen for Mr Davies and knew, now, that I would
have to break it off with David.



David was sitting on the couch, drinking a mug of coffee, and looked
up at me as I entered.

‘Hi, Justine. Your back then.’

‘Yes, I’m back.’

‘Did you have a good time?’

‘Really, it was wonderful. In fact it was the time of my life. I
have never been so happy. Hyacinth, Robert’s sister, is awesome. So
positive and really beautiful. And Robert is pure charm once you get
to know him better.’

David looked at me, anxious. He looked at me and I sensed something
important was about to come forth.

‘Well. Do you have feelings for him? Do you have feelings for
Robert?’

I looked at David. I looked at him, the anxiety in my heart having
reached its climax.

‘I can’t lie to you David. I won’t do that – I care for you too
much. But, yes. I care for Robert. In fact I think I am falling for
him, if you really must know.’

David looked at me. He began to say something. He began to speak,
but stopped. He stopped and just looked at me, almost as if he were
defeated.

‘It’s funny, love. You know. Funny how it works. I kind of thought
it was supreme, and I guess it really is. But it is funny the way it
works in reality.’

I knew he was judging me. I knew, right then, he was judging me,
perhaps in the same way I used to judge him. And I knew he was
judging me for choosing a Baptist instead of what love was supposed to
be about – free love – to chose who your heart really yearned for, and
not simply Mr Right – Mr Convenient. I didn’t know what to say to
David just then. I was lost for words. He had judged me, and my
heart felt condemned. Yet, before I could say anything he had risen
to his feet and picked up his backpack and other minor possessions and
walked to the door.

‘I am going now, Justine. I know you will be happy with Robert. In
fact I think I knew that the first time I saw you two together. I
guess I have stayed around because, well, you know. But I guess not.
I guess not.’

He took one last look at me. He took one, long, last look, and I
could tell his heart was broken. And then he was gone. And I would
not see David Rothchild again for over 5 years.



Chapter Nine



6008 SC



I and Robert Davies wed in Balmain Baptist church on the 7th of
September, 2038. My whole family and extended family was there, as
well as the Davies Clan. It was really a huge affair, and we went all
out in every aspect. The honeymoon was bliss, being in Hawaii were I
had always wanted to go, and Robert and learnt surfing while we were
there. In truth, it was the time of my life and life never felt
better. It seemed as if everything was turning to gold for me, as
Keith Green might sing, and my life was bliss. Everything seemed to
have fallen into place. Nearly everything.



* * * * *



6010 - 6015 SC



When our first child died of cot death, everyone assured us that God
would give me another. That he does, at time, put people to the test
and that his ways are too difficult to understand. Yet after the
accident at the laboratory were Robert was a guest, investigating the
scene for a claim against a client – a claim which should have been
taken much more seriously – and the resulting sterility which came to
Robert – I knew then that I may never have children. And my heart
broke.



All of my life I had dreamed of children. It was, in a way for me,
the whole purpose of being alive. Children were a large point of what
we were on earth for, and without them I would be an empty womb like
Rachel in the Bible.



Robert suggested we could adopt but my heart was not in it. I could
not bear the thought of having another family’s child.



We went on like that, then, for another three years, until 2043, when
Robert reached a conclusion. He knew I should marry again because of
my overwhelming desire to have children, and because I wouldn’t adopt
and surrogacy was out of the question, he would have to divorce me.



I struggled with the issue for months, in the first instance
refusing. My faith taught me, generally, that divorce was wrong. Yet
the New Testament permitted it in extreme circumstances. And,
ultimately, I saw the wisdom in Roberts words, so that at 32 years of
age we separated and divorced a year later. We remained good friends,
but it was over. The sterility had killed our relationship, and I was
on the dating sites trying to again find Mr Right. I knew, perhaps,
that God would not provide for me again. That he had found the right
person and that I would not be shown the grace to again meet the
perfect guy.



I thought, funnily enough, on David Rothchild from time to time. I
rang his home, once, but his father told me David was now in Israel,
involved with the military in the new war against Lebanon. Strangely,
I found myself praying for him each night – praying that God would
keep him safe and one day lead him back to Canberra. His father
Alexander told me that David was still single, yet he would never
again consider a gentile wife, firmly committed to the people of
Israel and their defence. Of course, I knew he couldn’t consider me.
I had perhaps broken his heart, and didn’t deserve another chance.
Yet against hope I prayed for him and silently wished he would one day
be mine.



But, life goes on. I stayed with my firm, did my work, and attended
church. I was, in truth, apart from my constant longing for children,
happy enough. God had blessed me financially and I didn’t have to do
much more than show up to work each week to know that my life would be
looked after.



Robert went to another church in Sydney now, and was now in
discussions with another man to form a new firm. We had a final
dinner together, and then I didn’t see him again for over a decade.
Life had taken Robert Davies into my life and then away. Perhaps
there had been a divine mystery to it – perhaps something I didn’t
understand – but he had been with me and then he had gone.



It was New Years Eve 2044, when the big 2045 celebration was
anticipated. I was in front of my TV in my new flat which I had
gotten a loan for, listening to auld lang syne. Old acquaintances. I
thought on that, and then I thought on David. And then I thought to
myself, ‘Life, girl, has opportunities. If you really want what is
best for you, sometimes you have to do the hard miles and go out and
get what you need. Cause if you don’t, girl, someone else will.’ And
then I knew what I had to do. Then I knew, for my ultimate dreams to
come true, that I had to take the risk and go out and get the man I
loved. And nothing would now stop me.







Chapter Ten



6018 SC



‘Well, Puteri. Do you still want to come down and visit Canberra?’
My work colleague, Puteri Naibaho, the Indonesian Accountant at our
firm, looked at me momentarily, before returning to her pasta.

‘Sure, Justine,’ she replied, gazing at her computer screen. ‘It
should be a fun time. I have only been down there once, you know.’

‘Ok then. If you meet me at my flat on Friday night around 7, we will
leave then and return late on Sunday. Ok.’

‘No worries.’



I returned to my desk, happy enough to have a friend accompany me on
my visit down to Canberra, having not been for 3 years now, so caught
up with my work I had been. I was now 37 years old, and would now be
visiting Canberra, firstly to seem Mum and Dad and Peter my brother,
but with one other main objective. I would spend some time with the
Rothchild’s, mainly David’s brother Daniel, to see if I could get
information on were David was staying in Israel – information they had
been very reluctant to give over so far. But I was now determined.
Completely determined to see David, no matter the cost. In the 5
years of separation from Robert, my heart had yearned and continued to
yearn for David Rothchild. When I met him again – when I met him,
with the purest love to show him that I possibly could, I would never
lose him again. I would show my dearest David that I was certain – oh
so certain – that we belonged together and that if he could ever
forgive me for choosing Robert and not him, I would love him forever.



We left, myself and Puteri, Friday, travelling down from Sydney in my
Porsche. It was a good trip, stopping at Mittagong and Goulburn for
some meal breaks, and I got to know Puteri, the new accountant at our
firm, even better. Her name, Puteri, meant Princess in Indonesian. I
guess she was pretty, looking a lot like any one from south east Asia,
but I thought she looked particularly Chinese.



When we arrived in Canberra, we came to my parent’s place first, and
spent a few hours until around midnight, before we both left for the
clubs. I had not really planned on going, but I didn’t want to
disappoint Puteri who was in a real clubbing mood, being young and
full of lust.



We got home around 4 in the morning, and I slept like a log. It was
the following day I was really anticipating, hoping to do my very best
to gain the information from Daniel that I needed.



* * * * *



Alexander Rothchild directed me to Daniel Rothchild that day, who was
spending time with a certain Daniel Daly in the small Torah fellowship
they had started in Macarthur. Mr Daly lived on the same crescent the
Rothchild’s had once lived on, at number 29. Mr Daly was now in his
late 70s’, yet still looked in his 40s, something often remarked on,
but Puteri, in her early 30s, struck up an instant liking for him, and
they had arranged to have dinner together only an hour after meeting.
Puteri told me that she found Mr Daly cute and as he was single she
felt he might be worth chasing.

‘Secure and stable,’ she told me, sensing these qualities in Daniel
Rothchild’s best friend.



Late Saturday, having spent much of the day at number 29 reading Torah
and watching various Rabbis speak on Torah issues on DVDs in Mr Daly’s
collection, the small fellowship of about 7 people disbanded for the
day, each heading their own way. Only Daniel Rothchild was Jewish in
the assembly, the remainder being Gentile believers in God. They had
initially come from a Noahide perspective, but had drifted away from
the Rabbinic perspective on Gentiles, towards a more torahically
accurate view which embraced Genesis 1:26-27 with the notion of
different ‘families’ created in the beginning, with the idea that all
mankind being descended from Adam and Eve and subsequently Noah as
well being now rejected. Those patriarchs were, apparently, the
fathers of the middle eastern families – not all humanity.



Ultimately, Mr Daly explained to me that Torah faith was simply a
witness of a God who taught meekness, like Moses was meek, humility
and gentleness, and that the apparent savageness in the Torah which so
many modern people rejected was like the way it was due to how sinful
mankind was capable of becoming. Mr Daly had said something to me.
‘When man is wicked, God will punish us savagely. Yet with the
merciful he shows himself merciful, and allows great leniencies to
excuse much of our callous behaviour in such circumstances.’



I thought on his words later on, thinking perhaps that his perspective
may have been unbiblical, yet I thought on many Old Testament passages
which did justify his statements. It made me think for a while that
perhaps the Torah was indeed a workable document and that the Apostle
Paul’s teaching on its inadequacies perhaps reflected more his passion
for Jesus rather than and limitations in the nature of the first
covenants. Perhaps Torah could work. Perhaps that was why Israel had
upheld it for so long. Perhaps.



Around 6, the four of us were having dinner at the pizza restaurant
near Macarthur, in Chisholm. It was the same place David had taken
me, Gemma and Frances a number of years ago when he was first getting
to know us. Jessica, Daniel Rothchild’s wife, left for home, but
Daniel Rothchild came with us. Mr Daly spent most of the night
chatting with Puteri, and I left the two of them alone to learn about
each other. My focus was on getting the information I needed from Mr
Rothchild.



* * * * *



‘I love him Daniel. I love him purely and with all my heart. If that
is not enough, in the end, what possibly can be?’

Daniel looked at me and I sensed he was almost persuaded. Almost
ready to tell me were David was, if I just pushed him a little
further.

‘I can tell you this, Justine. He left Israel just last month. The
war with Lebanon ended a few months ago, and his time in the army has
been served. He is in Canberra now – I will tell you that – but I
won’t tell you were he is apart from that. I guess, if your love is
true, you will find him. You will have to be satisfied with that.’

I nodded, totally dissatisfied, but accepting. That was Daniel
Rothchild’s way, in a sense. A deep thinker with a flair for the
dramatic in life.

‘I will find him, Daniel. Believe me. I will find him.’



* * * * *



The following weekend me and Puteri came down again, but she spend the
whole weekend with Mr Daly – but that didn’t really bother me. I sat
in the food court in Woden that Saturday. I sat there from 10am till
4pm – 6 hours. I knew David visited the place often, and I sat there
all that time looking to see if I could spot my beloved. I sat,
drinking diet coke, and eating garlic bread, my thoughts occasionally
scattered, but concerned with finding my beloved.



I knew that Robert had, perhaps, cost me my future. Perhaps – perhaps
– and only perhaps – but perhaps it had been lust, not in the sexual
sense – yet maybe a little – but mainly lust in the personal sense of
what Robert was as a person and what he could offer me that had
attracted me to him. He was the ideal catch. The best any godfearing
Baptist Christian girl could hopefully hope for. Yet, perhaps, in the
lust for him – in the coveting of him I felt – perhaps he himself –
the person who he actually was, was perhaps a little lost on me.
Perhaps it had not really been the person who Robert was that had
attracted me to him, but all that he could offer me. And, ultimately,
if that was true, then the loss of our child had been the wisdom of
God. And I reflected on that. Perhaps part of me wanted to justify
that idea so much, as to justify my love for David, but despite the
hypocrisy I felt Jesus might accuse me of in my heart for thinking
this, I felt it was likely correct. In truth, I had been attracted to
WHAT Robert was – not WHO Robert was. And because of that the
marriage had ultimately failed. Yet with David – with my beloved
David – it had never been the case. Perhaps in truth a little to
start with. But with David, in reflection, the love I had first felt
for him was greater than that I had felt for Robert, and with David it
had truly become genuine and sincere. I loved him purely and was
prepared to devote myself to him and his heart. It was, I think, in
the end the simple fact that the right chemistry existed between me
and David Rothchild. I had loved Robert, but ultimately the child of
Israel had enraptured my heart in a pure fashion with Robert had been
unable to achieve. Perhaps that was the mystery of love.



I sat there, contemplating such things, oblivious to my surroundings,
looking out the window at the carpark in the Woden food court. I sat
there, vaguely aware that for about 3 minutes someone had been sitting
opposite me, but not paying attention to who it was.



And then I looked at the person. And he looked at me.



And Mr David Rothchild was in my heart again.





Chapter Eleven



‘David! David!’

‘Yes Justine, your repeating yourself.’

I stared at him, hardly believing my beloved was in my presence. He
spoke.

‘Daniel told me that you were looking for me. Puteri told me that you
would be here in the food court. I had made up my mind, though, that
I wouldn’t come along. I really had. In fact determinedly so. But.
Well. You know. What can I say? What can I really say? I needed to
see you, in the end. You broke my heart, Justine. You broke my
heart, and it still hasn’t mended. But now you’re here, aren’t you?
And your heart? Your heart? What does it seek, Justine? What does
it seek?’



I was ready to respond. For 5 years I had been ready to respond, and
I knew what I was prepared to commit to.



‘David. Me and Robert are divorced. We had a child, but it died of
cot death. God took it from us. I know what you want in your wife –
a Jewish wife. I know that is so very important to you. In truth, I
love Jesus. I always have and, I guess, I always will. But the issue
of ‘Christ’ is not an issue to me. Since university it has meant less
and less. It doesn’t really matter – only love matters. But for my
love for you, if you will have me, I will convert to Judaism. I will
become Jewish. I will keep Kosher. I will observe Sabbath. I will
keep the festivals. I will do all these things, David, for you. If
you will love me again, and take me back. For my love for you is pure
– it is true – and it won’t change.’



David looked at me, silent for a moment, and then looked out the
window. He began as if to speak, then left off. He looked at me,
then stood up and walked off a few metres, looking upwards. He turned
to me and spoke.

‘You would do that? You would become Jewish.’

‘David, if my Christian faith taught me anything, it was this. Be a
fundamentalist on LOVE. Love will serve and obey because it loves.
And I will serve God and Torah and obey you because I love you.’

He nodded. He nodded, and smiled a little. And he came over to me,
placed his arms around me, and whispered in my ears,

‘I love you Justine.’

And then my life was complete.



* * * * *



We married in the synagogue in Canberra, in the progressive service.
It was not an enormous gathering – I had already had that, and didn’t
need a repeat. But before the people of Israel, I took my vows of
devotion, and I promised the whole assembly I would be a faithful
Jewish wife, devoted to her husband, living in the fear of God. And
they accepted me. And all was good in the world.









Life with Mr David Rothchild was good. Every year that passed was
good and a blessing of peace, joy and love to my soul. After the
fifth and final child, young Daniel, I was at peace in a way I had
never known. Israel became my people. The synagogue became my
church. And even Jesus remained close, in a way, in a peculiarly
‘Jewish’ way as if to tell me this was HIS people and I was now of his
own blood. As if I was his own personal family. I was not estranged
from my lord. In fact the opposite. I was closer to him than ever.
And I found, in his spirit which was with me often, that it was indeed
the God of Israel who was the true God and that the Trinity notion was
not the way of things, in truth, that God was indeed one, as a
Unitarian Christian would say, and that I had, in a way, come home to
him. And because of this, my life, truly, was perfect. Nothing more
could I hope to ask of my heavenly father. Nothing more.





THE END


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