Tom and Greg walked along the 100 meters of footpath from Tom the Grocer at one corner of the street to Jimmy Choo’s restaurant at the other end of the block.

On the way, they passed what Tom called ‘The Greasy Greeks’ and his newfound friend, George, called out, “How was the first day?”

“Great,” Tom replied.” And I even got myself a new helper, Greg here,” he said, pointing to Greg by putting his arm on Greg’s back and pushing him to the front.

“Now we are off for a well-deserved meal at Jimmy’s.”

George waved them on their way and after another 50 meters, they entered the Chinese restaurant to a chorus of ‘G’day Toms’ from Jimmy and his staff. They were all of pure Chinese origin though most were born in Australia. However, their good English was heavy with that iconic Aussie accent and usage of local slang.

Tom selected a table towards the rear of the restaurant well away from the other diners. After the routine of ordering their food, Tom added a bottle of Leeuwin Estate Riesling.

“Dry, cool, fresh, and crisp,” he explained his choice of wine to Greg, as one of the young waiters, obviously a family member, brought the wine, uncorked it rather crudely, and filled their glasses almost to the brim. This was not a fine dining restaurant but just an eatery, but a good one.

“But before we eat, here are your wages for helping me today,” said Tom taking a $20 note out from his wallet and handing it across the table to Greg. “Is $20 and a meal OK?”

Greg looked dumbfounded. “$20 plus a meal, I can not believe it. I would work in the shop with you for nothing!” Then rather sheepishly he added, ‘I do really need the cash though, it helps greatly, I cannot thank you enough.”

Tom looked across the table and surprised Greg by asking, “Now tell me your life story?”

“You want my life story? I could write that on the back of a postage stamp!” he replied, with a smile.

“Well tell me anyway, I am sure it is more interesting than that?” Tom said, matching him, smile for smile.

“It has just been all work and school, and more work and school!”

“No fun times?”

“Very few, in fact, going to school was my escape from the constant drudgery of working on the farm. I was up every morning at 5:00, seven days a week, hot or cold, dry or wet. Then breakfast at 7:30 and off to school on my old trusty bicycle, all 10 miles of it. After school, it was straight home for the afternoon feeds.”

“The ride was not that bad in fine weather but it was a cow with wind and rain or during heat waves in summer, of which we have many in Dubbo!” Then he added, “On lucky days if someone was going into town to buy supplies in the small truck we had, I would get a lift, throwing my bike in the back. Unless my father drove the truck, then he dropped me off at the turnoff to school, and I still had 2 miles to cycle.”

“Your father sounds like a hard man?” Tom said. Greg just nodded; this time there was no smile, more of a grimace.

“I did not actually mind working on the farm; it was just my father constantly griping about everything. I loved working with the horses, except for foaling time. Why broodmares always have to foal in the early hours of the morning I do not know?”

“You had to be there when the mares give birth to their foals?” Tom asked, innocently.

“When you have a valuable broodmare who has been covered by a stallion costing $20,000 a serve it is a big event on the farm.”

“What? $20,000 for a stallion service?” Tom was shocked, not knowing much about the racing business.

“Maybe we should put you out to stud?” He joked.

“A good life, but it would not be much fun, eating grass all day!” Greg said which caused both of them to laugh at that crazy suggestion. The mutual laugh broke the tension from such a serious story.

Then their food began to arrive: Sweet and sour chicken, Prawns in honey and sesame and Jimmy’s special dish Tom always ordered, crumbed Duck breast, cross sliced, with an orange sauce poured all over it. On the side was a serving of their special fried rice.

It had been brought by the only waitress, a normally shy teenage girl, obviously also a family member.

Tom was normally served by one of the sons who he continually laughed and joked with, or Jimmy himself, so he said, with a sly smile, “I think she fancies you!”

This seemed to embarrass Greg, who suddenly seemed shy about that suggestion, looking down at his plate. Tom looked at him closely, studying the almost perfect complexion, slightly tanned which gave him that wholesome healthy look. The only blemish was a few freckles across each of his high cheekbones, but even those looked as if they had been perfectly and evenly placed, as if by design.

“You are quite a spunk, you know?” Tom embarrassed him by saying. “I am sure that all the girls at college will be trying to be the first to sleep with the new boy, Greg from Dubbo?”

Greg smiled but rather awkwardly, obviously not totally at ease with the suggestion.

“I doubt it,” he said quietly.

Greg looked over the dishes on the table, a bit mystified by all the food and even more so by the extra small empty bowl and chopsticks placed in front of him. Tom was ready to explain.

“The Chinese usually eat a plate of fried rice as their last course after eating all of the other food but we Aussies do it this way.” He said as he lifted his own small bowl to demonstrate.

“Spoon some of the fried rice into your bowl then use the chopsticks to select pieces of different meat or a prawn, one at a time on to the top of the rice, eat it, and then some rice, and so on.”

Tom showed him how to use the chopsticks, with one as a base and the other moving, but when using them to eat the rice holding them slightly apart, more as a little shovel. With the bowl held in his hand just under his chin to minimize any spillage. After a few misfires, Greg got the hang of it and looked quite proud with his newfound skill. He was scared of making a fool of himself in front of Tom.

“With the prawns, just stab them with one of the chopsticks,” when eating in a restaurant you can do anything you like, as long as you look like you know what you are doing!” explained the experienced Tom to the doubting Greg.

As they slowly worked their way through the food, sipping the fresh young crisp white wine as they went, Greg reverted to his usual relaxed self.

“This is the best meal I have ever had,” he exclaimed.

Tom just smiled then said, “Now the rest of your life story, what did you do when you left school?”

“I had planned to study Accounting at Dubbo Tech, thinking that working in an office had to be better than on the farm. Working in a nice air-conditioned office and no father watching my every move, sounded like heaven. But my father had a bit of a heart attack and I had to work full time on the farm. That was the worst year of my life.”

“Is he Ok now?” Tom asked.

“Yes, back to his old grumpy self. He just does not smoke anymore, which makes him even grumpier! Towards the end of that year, he began to spend more time back working so I announced, much to his disgust, that I was going to get a job in Dubbo. I had no idea where or what but I just had to escape, or so I thought?”

“What did you do?’

“I got a job in the Blue Moon Café in Dubbo. Starting just as a busboy, carrying plates and clearing tables, then taking orders, doing the bar and even cashier which was unusual as the cashier was normally only a family member.”

“They must have trusted you,” Tom observed with some satisfaction, happy and a bit proud that his own judgment on Greg had been vindicated.

“I guess so, but then most members of that family were too lazy to work, apart from the boss.”

“I still did not escape the farm though as I mostly worked from late morning till mid-evening at the cafe, so I was still up every morning at 5:00 to feed the cattle and horses every day, and then work there all day on my so-called holiday day off.”

“My only way to escape was to leave Dubbo permanently, and here I am. So far this has been one of the greatest days of my life,” Greg adds, a little misty-eyed and very serious for the first time.

“It has been one the better days of my life too,” retorted Tom. “Finally opening Tom the Grocer, without any major disasters was great.”

Then as an almost shy afterthought, he added. “As an extra bonus running into a crazy boy from Dubbo was not that bad either!”        

They smiled at each other across the table. Greg had an almost unnerving habit of making complete eye contact, so open, and so honest. His manner suggested total innocence yet with enough self-confidence to suggest that he was may be not so innocent. 

They had now finished the food and Tom suggested another bottle of wine. Greg just smiled and shrugged.

“Why not?” He answered, not wanting to do anything to spoil the moment, nor to end the evening.

“Want some deep-fried ice cream?” Tom asked.

“How can you deep fry ice cream, it would all melt?” Greg replied not sure if Tom was only joking with him.

“You will see,” said Tom, calling the waiter to order one serveing for Greg, whilst Tom just concentrated on sipping his wine, noting that Greg was not shy about drinking his share either.

When it arrived, Greg devoured his deep-fried ice cream. “That was a perfect end to a perfect night!” He exclaimed.

The night had to end and so it did. Tom paid the bill and they said their goodbyes to Jimmy and the staff who all seemed to treat Tom as their very special customer, but then they all knew that being everyone’s best friend was the way to succeed in business. 

As they walked back to the shop Tom felt like asking Greg if he wanted to come up for a final drink, but instead said. “If you want to, you can come in tomorrow at the same time?”

Greg’s eyes lit up, as did his face as a smile exploded across it. “Really? That is fantastic, I will be there.”

“See you tomorrow then,” said Tom with his arm loosely across Greg’s shoulders, almost giving him a little push along on his way. He almost patted him on the bum too, but that would have been a bit too intimate in the dark laneway.

“For certain sure,” replied a dazed Greg. “And thank you for everything.”

”Thank you, for walking into my shop today!” said Tom as he let himself in through the side gate behind the shop. They gave each other small waves and went their own ways.

To be continued...