Robert the Westie. My life. By me.

17. Steve the stranger, Lady Amanda the mate.

Quite how I found myself with a new best mate takes some explanation. Australia plays the key role. Though Steve's fondness for the land down under had often emerged in his conversations, it had never occurred to me that it would change his life, my life and that of Jason quite so radically.  

As I mentioned before, he had first visited the huge island nation back in 1997, in the company of an old friend, Anthony. The retired journalist, soon to turn seventy-five, had declared a wish to return to Australia primarily to bid farewell to dear friends first met in the 1950s. He had accomplished that journey by sea.  Forty years on, Anthony contemplated twenty-four hours of containment in a Boeing 747, a concept that filled him with such dread that he had decided against the trip.

Steve, in a restless mood for reasons that I only now appreciate, and owning up to longstanding curiosity, had rescued the plan by announcing that he would accompany Anthony. That three week stay had imbued Steve with an affection for the landscapes and people that brought a sparkle to his eyes and animation to his gestures whenever he reminisced about the vineyards close to Adelaide, the cosmopolitan style and sophistication of Melbourne, the skyline and stunning beaches of Sydney and the deep green steaming rainforest coastline of Queensland. Such was his enthusiasm that I too had felt inspired to see the sights of this distant land.  

"Not distant at all," Steve would reply to anyone making the obvious comment. "You just take a day of your life to travel to one of the most fascinating places on the planet. Is that such a big deal?"  

For him, clearly, it wasn't, all of which begins to explain why he suddenly announced one crisp late January-afternoon that he was thinking of opening an office in Sydney in the summer. The rest of the explanation lies with Kevin and Jane, the former a senior employee and good mate, the latter his Australian girlfriend, a one-time nurse, currently working for a public relations business run by old chums of Steve's. Yes, he had helped her find that employment. Yes, it was all very family. So when Kevin took his boss aside one afternoon and asked his opinion on the idea of a move to Sydney, Steve responded with a brief.  

"Go and find a small agency with a few bright people already in place and suggest that they link up with our internationally known marketing business. They ought to jump at it," he averred. "Our global reach, their local expertise, immediate profile, a big press story, boatloads of new clients and, of course, the Olympics in September. Just do it!" 

Early in January 2000, Kevin and Jane had indeed gone and done it. It took just three weeks for Kevin to call Steve and invite him to fly over to inspect three potential business partners. That was the call that had prompted him to announce his plan. It came the same sunny Sunday afternoon we all met Lady Amanda.  

It being the weekend, and one blessed with an unseasonable hint of warmth from a sun low in the sky, Steve and I had already taken our stroll through the hills and vales that equated to my idea of paradise. Heavy night frosts had made the ground cold and firm, even where the earth was rutted by farm machinery, the stamping of the horses hooves or the passing traffic.  

I had been behaving myself, scampering alongside Steve, until, just once, a rich new scent lured me off course and into the hedgerow in search of some nice surprise. Disappointment awaited me. Just a few feathers and a scattering of bare, knawed bones telling their tale of a fox that had arrived there before me to complete his scavenging for the day. I had a roll in the remains but they were too icy to leave much of an aroma on my fur. Steve grumbled at the stains on my neck but, significantly, didn't wrinkle his nostrils. A quick bath when we reached home was the only penalty I suffered. So, until that intrusive ring on the doorbell the weekend had passed uneventfully.  

"Well, goodday. Glad to find someone at home. I'm Amanda. Just moved in down the lane. Anybody up for a glass or two of Chardo?"  

The smile was broad, the grey hair ill-disciplined and undisguised, the invitation irresistible, at least for Steve, and the accent unmistakable. Just an hour later and we three, plus the Scottish couple from the house opposite, irreverently referred to as the Scotties by Steve, joined our new neighbour in her front room and, with the exception of me and Jason, embarked on an enthusiastic consumption of the proffered Chardonnay.