ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Jeff Edwards lives in Penrith, an outer Sydney suburb on the bank of the Nepean River and at the foot of the magnificent Blue Mountains, where he and his family have developed strong community ties through their business and sporting activities.
Today he runs a commercial agency supplying process serving and investigation services to a wide variety of customers in the legal profession. He and his wife Lyn are also members of the board of directors at the Nepean Rowing Club.
This is his fifth novel with the first three being the Jade Green series and the fourth The Iceman a thriller with an environmental subplot.
Jeff assures that those who follow the Jade Green series have not been forgotten and his characters will be returning in The Song of Mawu.
His reader’s comments are always appreciated and Jeff may be contacted on [email protected]
Published in Australia by Sid Harta Publishers Pty Ltd,
ABN: 46 119 415 842
23 Stirling Crescent, Glen Waverley, Victoria 3150 Australia
Telephone: +61 3 9560 9920, Facsimile: +61 3 9545 1742
E-mail: [email protected]
First published in Australia September 2014
This edition published 2014
Copyright © Jeff Edwards 2014
Cover design, typesetting: Chameleon Print Design
The right of Jeff Edwards to be identified as the Author of the Work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
This book is a work of fiction. Any similarities to that of people living or dead are purely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.
Edwards, Jeff
Choices
ISBN: 9781742984865 (eBook)
Digital edition distributed by
Port Campbell Press
Conversion by Winking Billy
DEDICATION
This book would not have been possible without my old mates from years past. I surfed with Gary ‘The Nook’ McDonald and Col White in my late teens, and their influence upon my drinking habits and bad manners cannot be overlooked, and it is a wonder that I have survived until today.
I was never a good surfer, and I have the scars to back up this claim, but with friends around you the times were always memorable to say the least. Hindsight has polished these memories even further.
I must always mention my wife Lyn because she is my first port of call when the computer refuses to do what I want and is ever patient with my feeble attempts at problem solving. Many thanks for her proofreading efforts and her constant support.
A special thanks to the readers who have found my works, and appreciate my efforts to entertain them.
PROLOGUE
‘Don’t drink too much,’ smiled Habib Bashir in his heavily accented English as he ushered his guests to the gate of his family compound in Sanur.
‘We promise to be good,’ laughed his friend. ‘There are waves off Bali waiting for us and we intend to catch more than our fair share.’
‘I’ll have the boat at the dock at the usual time,’ Bashir told the trio of Australians. ‘Don’t keep me waiting.’
‘Don’t worry,’ said the second of his guests. ‘I’ll make sure they’re out of bed in time. Remember what you promised us tonight. Tamara is to go to university. She’s too bright for you to simply marry off.’
‘Are you sure our boards will be alright?’ asked the third.
‘I know how much that particular board of yours means to you,’ smiled Bashir. ‘I’ve stored them all below deck. No one will touch them.’
‘We’ll see you tomorrow.’
Bashir watched as the three men made their way out of his compound and onto the streets of the Balinese village. They had arrived with gifts for his eldest child Tamara, who was celebrating her birthday, and he had invited them to join the family’s evening meal.
As a Muslim he had been unable to offer them any alcohol to go with their food and he knew they were now eager to rectify this situation by joining their surfing friends at the local tourist bar.
Bashir had known these three Australians for several years. He was the owner of a sports store located near the beach specialising in selling and renting surfing and diving equipment to tourists. He was also the owner of several charter boats which the surfers hired to take them to the waves which formed out to sea off the coral reefs. These men had come to him for many seasons and he had formed a close friendship with them. He especially liked their easygoing manner, and the way that they treated all those they met as equals. Others treated Bashir and his crew as servants, but these three were different. They were not above helping out on deck when the need arose and paid their bills in cash, in US dollars, which meant a higher profit margin for Bashir.
‘Will you do what they ask?’ enquired Bashir’s wife as he returned to the table.
‘I’ll think about it. Perhaps Tamara should continue with her schooling. The Australians presented strong arguments in favour of doing so.’
His wife nodded in agreement, but knew the choice would be for Bashir alone to make.
* * *
‘What do you think? Did we convince him?’
‘He’s a businessman, and we put it to him as a business proposition. He’ll see it our way.’
‘Yeah. I’d hate to see him marry her off as soon as she comes of age. She’s extremely bright and deserves better.’
Having done their good deed for the day, the men’s conversation turned to more immediate matters—surfing and drinking.
With the lively banter continuing between them, the trio turned a corner and headed down the town’s main road toward the sea. Ahead of them twinkled the bright lights of Murphy’s Bar which was located in a prime location overlooking the beach and from where the sound of loud music and laughter beckoned.
Their steps quickened in anticipation, but were forced to step aside when a small delivery van sped past them and squealed to a halt at the bottom of the street.
‘A bit late for a delivery,’ commented the largest of the Australians gruffly.
‘Shit!’ cried his friend, as the driver of the van threw open his door and sprinted away, abandoning his vehicle with the door wide open. The same awful thought occurred instantly to each of them.
‘Oh Christ!’ yelled the third surfer as the van exploded.
Murphy’s Bar and everyone inside caught the full force of the blast.
The