COMING SOON

Meanwhile, here’s an excerpt…

Whimsy Carmichael woke to the smell of her three favourite aromas - brewing coffee, sizzling bacon and her wonderful grandfather’s aftershave Old Spice. She adored all three in equal measure, though if pushed to choose one as a matter of life or death, Old Spice would win by a nose.  Well, it was her grandfather - or Pop pop - who would get her vote, being the most important person in her life. She could live without coffee and bacon, but never Pop pop. Never. Although the thought of spending the rest of her life without bacon, sent her into a spin. 

If I’m 8 now and I’m going to live until I’m 85 that’s - she lay on her bed working out the sum - whoa, that’s 77 years with out bacon passing my lips. Please don’t make me have to choose. Missing bacon for 77 years would be a total travesty. Another notion crossed her mind. Mmmm, travesty, what a good word-of-the-day. 10 times. It’s only 10 times, I can drop that into a sentence 10 times. Easy.

With that settled, she jumped out of bed, hastily threw the covers over the rumpled sheets, grabbed Rupert her teddy bear and trotted down to the kitchen to find out what Pop pop was cooking with the bacon. It was going to be a travesty if it was only egg, when everyone knew she simply adored sautéed mushrooms, diced tomatoes and spinach with freshly cracked pepper and a sprinkle of salt. Oh and sourdough bread with lashings of butter. Now that was breakfast.

Quietly slipping into the kitchen she sidled up to her Pop and peeked into the pan on the stove. Frying away along side the sizzling bacon were little mushroom cups and tomato, wilting spinach at the ready.

“Good morning little one, can you butter the toast and set the table, we’re almost ready.”

“I’m onto it Pop, luckily I woke up in time to do it, it would have been a travesty if I’d slept in.”

“Oh so, travesty  it  is today? Good choice. I look forward to hearing it all day long.”

Pop pop, smiled over at his little one, his eyes sparkling, She was his number one, his favourite grandchild, his every joy. He’d come to live with Whimsy and her dad when Whimsy’s mum decided being a mother wasn’t quite her style. She’d wandered off to find herself, never to be seen again. Pop pop - or Patrick - arrived on the doorstep with his suitcases, rice cooker and a bag full of spices, and never left.  That was five years ago. Whimsy’s dad - Edward - hadn’t expected or even wanted his father-in-law giving him sympathy or advice on how to raise his child, yet now he couldn’t imagine life otherwise. Where Edward could be taciturn and immersed in his business, Patrick brought laughter and joy into the home. The fact he was an amazing cook was the added bonus Edward was grateful for. 

“Go get dad, breakfast is ready.”

Patrick Sharma had arrived in Australia as a young boy, a refugee of WWII. His family, originally from Kolkata, India had moved to Singapore when his mother was pregnant with him and the family had built an enviable life on the island. Patrick’s father was a successful businessman and through his connections the Sharma’s had enjoyed a lavish lifestyle counting the King of Jahore and the Clunies-Ross family as close friends. Patrick and his sister were cared for my an amah and  rarely saw their parents, sometimes only when they were presented to guests arriving for a sumptuous dinner at the Sharma family home. It was a charmed life, the children happily nurtured and care for by their amah and adored by their distant yet loving parents. All was good.

Then everything changed when Singapore fell to the Japanese army on 8 February 1942