Rhythm

by

John Terry Moore
 

CHAPTER 19

“Gay Olympic Couple Drunk”, the headline screamed.  “Taxpayers Foot the Bill for a Night of Debauchery” and “Gay Oarsmen to Face Discipline?” were all over the print media the following day.  Adam, Patrick, Michael and The Dean were flabbergasted.  The print journalist had done his job well, because Angelo and Lance’s wedding was covered in good taste, even referring to the function after the event as ‘well organised, with good home-cooking and great waiter service.’  He went on to say that “it was unusual to be at a university function with such mature behaviour in evidence.  That the same-sex couples in attendance, including the Olympic hopefuls, Adam Church and Patrick Benson brought a touch of class to the party and set the tone for a happy and relaxed day.” 

“Thank Christ that’s been syndicated,” snapped the Dean.  “It looks like the good reports outweigh the bad ones around the country.  We’ve obviously got a hater out there who has taken these unauthorised pictures, then sold them and a whole lot of bullshit to the ever truthful press,” she said sarcastically.  Her landline trilled; she excused herself and picked it up.  Her secretary knew only too well she wasn’t to be disturbed at a moment like this, so she took the call.  “Oh hello,” she said; “how nice of you to take an interest.  No of course it’s not true, but the journalists we’re dealing with are the lowest form of life after all!  Would you like to speak with them because they’re right here, together with Michael Mitchell, their coach.”  She nodded and activated the speaker phone.  “It’s Praveen Nayar, the Prime Minister’s partner,” she whispered.  “Praveen,” she shouted, “can you hear us?” 

“Loud and clear, and thank you Margaret,” the cultured voice replied.  “Boys, how are you, and Michael?” 

“Well, thank you, Mr Nayar,” they chorused. 

“It’s Praveen, thank you,” he said with a smile in his voice.  “Even the Prime Minister doesn’t call me Mister!”  They all laughed as Praveen got quickly to the point.  “Chaps, this call is strictly a private one, OK?”  There was verbal agreement around the Dean’s desk.  “But the bad press you’ve experienced is typical of the homophobic elements in the press who are very poor losers and who love to sensationalise anything to do with same-sex families.  Believe me, our family has experienced more than our fair share, as you can possibly imagine!  When you’re the same-sex partner of the nation’s political leader, they assume you’re a tall poppy just because you’re there!  They simply hate same-sex attracted people being publicly successful.  So I am sorry to say that we are always in their line of fire!  Which is a terrible state of affairs when all you guys want to do is compete to the best of your ability, am I correct?”  Adam and Patrick nodded their heads and glumly agreed. 

“So what I am proposing,” he went on, “with the permission of the Prime Minister and the Leader of the Opposition, is to quietly take over the publicity management of the entire Olympic squad of all sports represented, using the Parliamentary Public Affairs agency here in Canberra, Williamson Partners.  The period would start immediately and run through until a month or so after the Games.  The strategy is to ensure you guys are not unfairly disadvantaged and of course, that my hobbyhorse, same-sex couples in public life, are accorded all the opportunities and courtesy that heterosexual people enjoy.  The reason the whole Olympic squad is included, is obviously so no one can say we have are discriminating too much in the other direction!  So if you boys are happy with those arrangements, Williamson Partners will be in touch later in the day, OK?” 

“Oh yes, thank you so much, Praveen,” Adam and Patrick chorused.  The fire had returned to the Dean’s eyes and Michael Mitchell just couldn’t stop smiling.  “Today chaps,” he said, “when we go out on the river, I want you to think about every mother-fucking homophobic prick who wants to take this opportunity away from you and from the university.  I want you to drive that boat through the water like men possessed.  Because for every prick out there that tries to put you down, there’s now someone out there who want to put you back up on the pedestal!”  He looked at the Dean and realised what he had said in passion and apologised for his outburst. 

“Don’t apologise, Michael,” she said.  “I naturally share your sentiments and I couldn’t have put it better myself!”  Then the Dean jumped to her feet and moved around her desk, hugging the boys in turn. 

“Just keep on doing what you’re doing, darlings,” she said.  “By the time this is all over, the miserable homophobic bastards will be fucked where they stand, because you’re going to win this bloody race, I can feel it in my water!” 

The following few weeks went by in a blur; and all too soon their little boat was unassembled, packed and loaded into the belly of a jumbo freighter, bound for the Games.  They had managed to find a substitute craft in Melbourne and it was gladly loaned with the donor club’s blessing.  Michael Mitchell made a mental note to thank them at this critical time, because they were able to continue training in their own environment and not neglect their studies too much. 

“Image can always be adjusted over time,” Craig Williamson told Praveen Nayar discreetly. 

“Craig the poor boys don’t have time,” Praveen responded, “you know that.  We simply can’t send them to the Olympics with the general public here in Australia and overseas believing they are lazy, worthless, playboy types, sexual predators and only going along for the free trip.  They don’t deserve that; they work hard for everything they’ve achieved; they are diligent students and wonderful role models for future generations.  I’m so upset the local media has done this, you must help us,” he pleaded. 

“What about the rest of the team?” asked Craig.  It was at that stage Craig Williamson truly believed he had lost the Parliamentary account.  Only very few people had witnessed Praveen Nayar in full flight, and it was not a pleasant experience.  No one had ever heard him use bad language, let alone raise his voice.  His eyes blazed as the formidable intellect took over. 

“As you know, managing the rest of the team’s publicity is fucking window-dressing,” he snapped. 

“I’ll write you a strategy,” Craig offered. 

“There isn’t time, Craig, just fucking do it,” said Praveen through his teeth, as he strode through Williamson Partners’ offices, slamming doors as he went. 

*****

Craig Williamson sat alone in his office, feeling a sense of hopelessness wash over him.  The Parliamentary account was the core of his business, and it had been good to him.  He understood the bi-partisan nature of the business; that to demonstrate any connection to the political parties was economic suicide because of the swings and roundabouts of the game.  He also knew never to mention that the Prime Minister’s partner had visited him on a few occasions when there were same-sex issues at stake.  Because the Prime Minister and the Leader of the Opposition were great mates, and Praveen had become the unofficial parliamentary spokesperson for same-sex issues!  What a strange country this had become!  But parliamentary democracy was working better than ever before because for the first time in living memory, politicians seemed to reflect the will of the people and the opposition Liberal party had decided there were no votes in negativity when the country was clearly prospering and its leader (and his partner) were seen to be real leaders and genuinely loved by the electorate.  With an all-time record approval rating to back it up.  This was the first time he had felt the lash of Praveen’s tongue, and he didn’t want to go down that path again, he decided!  But even with Praveen’s outburst, Craig Williamson’s admiration for him hadn’t waned.  He realised what a powerhouse the Prime Minister had behind him, domestically and in politics, and he openly admired his intellect and ability.  Craig was no stranger to pressure and deadlines, and he prepared to work through the night.  He called his scriptwriters who understood the issues at hand, and then he called Adam and Patrick, setting up a conference call for later that evening.  Promptly at 9.00 o’clock the next morning, a huge bunch of flowers arrived, bearing an envelope on the Prime Ministerial stationery. 

Craig grinned; if ever anyone knew how to apologise, it was Praveen!  In style! 

*****

Craig Williamson knew the Australian press was a lost cause; there was no point in trying to convince those who had made the outrageous claims to retract them at this stage, because it would draw attention to the negatives.  Instead they elected to begin an international campaign immediately.  Using print initially, they targeted publications such as Reuters, Le Monde, the International Herald Tribune, the New York Times, and The Times in London.  There was a general press release on Australia’s Olympic Team, then another on the ‘same-sex couple competing in the double sculls event.’  Craig Williamson flew to Melbourne and was whisked to the university an hour away in the suburbs of the big regional town. 

*****

But what changed it all for Craig was actually meeting Adam and Patrick. 

Such natural young men.  He rode along with Michael Mitchell in the coach’s launch as the boys trained, marvelling at their athleticism, and the way they moved together; their sense of rhythm that Michael Mitchell confirmed he had never seen before in any crew.  The perfect symmetry as their bodies swung together; hitting the catch at the beginning of each stroke and swinging forward at the finish.  Their wrists turning together, deftly flicking the blades from the water.  Perfectly in time with each other. 

“What’s their secret Michael?” asked Craig, mesmerised by them. 

“Dedication,” said Michael, smiling. 

“Must be wonderful to dedicate your life to sport like that, particularly in the Olympic year,” he replied. 

“No, silly,” said Michael.  “I meant dedication to each other and to their partnership, that’s what makes them so special.  When I first began coaching them, they were just two young fellows, great friends, and they did very well.  They won the state championship but they certainly weren’t international standard.  Then they had a winter break; they started training again and immediately there was a huge difference!  It was like they were a totally different crew!  Instantly, two people had become one!  It was Wes, my assistant, here,” he said, nodding towards the driver of the launch, “who confirmed they had become a couple!  As a result, and in our lifetime, I doubt if we’ll see anything as perfect as this, ever.  They are just incredible young human beings; the lives of everyone who has come in contact with them have been changed, and I mean changed forever.” 

Craig finally got it.  Now he understood.  And he understood Adam and Patrick’s motivation, to give the very best performance they possibly could, not just for Australia, not just for the sport, but for same-sex attracted people all over the world.  A tune started playing over and over in his head; ’Rhythm of Life’ from an old Broadway musical of the 1960s ----- he grabbed his iPhone and found it ----- Sweet Charity was the show, 1966 was the year.  ‘The Rhythm of Life’ had been adapted by musicians from rock bands to gospel singers and had been performed for over fifty years!  But in 2020 he decided it had become the vehicle by which he was going to launch the Adam and Patrick Show.  He dialled his copyright manager at the office and sent an immediate request to use the music. 

In ten days it was complete; the budget approved and a stunning music video showcasing the Australian Olympic team was circulated through the international media.  But it was all Adam and Patrick, with an in depth interview, covering every aspect of their life together, the university, the farm, their families, their coach and their hopes for the future, particularly their concerns for same-sex attracted people around the world.  It caused a sensation internationally, and the local publications who had bagged them only a few weeks before were now begging for an interview.  Craig Williamson gave a sigh of relief.  When he finally came back to earth after a weekend at home with his own family, he sat down at his own desk for the first time in over two weeks.  He opened a gold embossed letter from the Prime Minister’s office; and on a simple card were the words, “The Prime Minister and Mr Nayar request the pleasure of your company, together with Mrs Williamson to attend the Olympic Games.  Special seats have been reserved at the rowing events.” 

*****

Adam, Patrick and Michael stepped off the domestic flight at Sydney Airport and were escorted to a Commonwealth car for the quick trip to the International terminal. 

“We could have easily caught the bus,” said Michael to their host, a smart fellow in his early thirties in a business suit. 

“No sir,” he replied politely.  “That’s not possible.  Until the Olympic Games are well and truly over, you are to have twenty-four-hour security.  We’ve been keeping an eye on you at the university,” he smiled at Adam and Patrick. “That little dog of yours is smart.  We couldn’t get within a hundred metres of the boat shed and your apartment without him performing!”  The boys and Michael grinned; Jack took his watchdog responsibilities very seriously! 

“Unfortunately,” their host continued, “there are some real nutters out there who would stop at nothing, and you guys are very high profile since that video went to air.  All of the team will have security but you guys are our number one priority.”  “Sorry,” he said, “we should have briefed you earlier, but we didn’t want to worry you or intrude on your training, so we were most discreet.” 

“Hope you didn’t catch us in an awkward moment,” mumbled Adam, just a little peeved that their life had been intruded upon without their permission. 

“We had a female officer watching your movements at the uni,” he said, turning and smiling at them.  “She said you were the two most handsome guys she had ever seen; hard workers at uni and dedicated sportsmen.  She also said she had never seen two human beings so much in love with each other, and we all think that’s rather special.  Anyone that tries to harm you guys will have to deal with a most highly motivated team of minders, including me,” he smiled. 

*****

They were introduced to the other athletes in the ensuing hour or so, accompanied by Craig Williamson and the AOC President, William (call me Bill) Donaldson.  Michael watched with pride as Adam and Patrick changed trepidation to unconditional support.  They worked the crowd, changing perceptions as they walked around the room, shaking hands and cracking jokes.  Ever since Michael had known them, their sense of humour and their attitude had endeared them to everyone they came in contact with.  They had a unique ability, Michael decided, to stand alongside people, not over them, totally without pretension, and of course that suited the egalitarian Australian mindset.  The other athletes warmed to them immediately, and they were endorsed as the ‘face’ of the Australian team.  Importantly, they were welcomed by the other members of the rowing squad, and claimed as theirs.  The administrators travelling with the squad were clearly embarrassed by old Ted Macfarlane’s comments on national television some months prior and said so.  The squad even had its own doctor, Gavin Brown, who introduced himself and was full of praise for them. 

“I’ve talked to the other oarsmen and women on your behalf,” he said.  “They are a great bunch and they are just so pissed off that you guys have had so much unnecessary drama.” 

Michael Mitchell shook his head.  Adam and Patrick had done more in one hour to advance rowing as a sport in Australia than anyone else in the history! 

He squared his shoulders.  ‘If we do nothing else,’ he thought, ‘we’ve just had our first victory.’

They were ushered into a huge hangar where a Qantas A380 sat waiting. 

There was a stir down one end as the Prime Minister, Praveen and their children, nineteen-year-old Anam and Peter, eighteen, walked in, followed by Christopher Chen, the Leader of the Opposition, his wife Grace and their younger teenage children, Aaron and Melissa.  It was stage-managed perfectly, ‘and had the hand of Praveen all over it,’ decided Patrick.  The Prime Minister, spoke about the task ahead for every athlete.  That the expectation was to win as many medals as possible, but to win with honour, and compete fairly.  That drugs, both socially and to enhance performance on the field were counterproductive to sport and to Australia as a vibrant and progressive society.  Then the Prime Minister stood down, and Christopher Chen, walked up to the podium.  He said that he endorsed the Prime Minister’s comments, word for word.  But he said that more than ever, Olympic athletes were expected to be ambassadors for their country; that Australia was being showcased, not just for its sporting prowess, but for the character of its people.  That Australia needed skilled migration from all over the world to grow the economy and the example set by its Olympic sportsmen and women would reflect favourably on Australia as an alternative home for these people. 

“And speaking of example,” he smiled, “you will have noticed the promotional video running which features our double scullers from Victoria, Adam Church and Patrick Benson.  Working in a bi-partisan manner with the Government, we elected to use Adam and Patrick for that video, firstly to correct some gross misrepresentations in the press on their behalf, but also to get the message out there that all lifestyles are welcome in Australia.  That we welcome same-sex individuals and couples in Australia, and that we firmly believe diversity enriches our society.”  The ceremony over, the official party stepped down from the dais as the athletes prepared to board the aircraft.  Suddenly, Adam and Patrick found themselves looking into a pair of sparkling, dark eyes.  Praveen!  Over his shoulder was framed the beaming ruddy complexion of the Prime Minister; with two excited teenagers hanging on every word. 

“We just had to say hello,” said Praveen, “after all we’ve been through together!”  He and the Prime Minister shook their hands, and Anam and Peter, whilst the most mature of their generation, simply wanted an autograph! 

It was well past midnight local time when they finally were installed in their room and fell into bed after a quick shower.  Michael wanted them on the water at 7.00am, their usual morning training time, so any jet lag would be negated.  He relented on the ‘hill’ this first morning, but exactly on time, they dropped their little craft into the water, and their final Games preparation got underway, on site. 

There were crews and activity everywhere; the strangeness of it all unsettling in this new environment.  It was hard to stay calm as they navigated their way around the training area immediately adjacent to the 2000 metre course, marked out already in lanes and distance markers on the banks of the ‘puddle’; a man-made structure.  Michael realised that like finely trained racehorses, his charges were ‘skittish’ and needed settling down.  He found the training hill later that day, and like clockwork, their routine soon settled into place. 

As soon as their families arrived, he surrounded them with familiar faces, but it was when the contingent from the university arrived, that Michael knew they were truly socially acclimatised.  The Eight knew by instinct what to do; after all, it was Angelo and Lance who had put the group together and Adam and Patrick relaxed and finally started to give their best.  The Eight never allowed them to feel at a loose end; when training was finished for the day they ‘arrested’ the boys and took them sightseeing or just sat around their room, playing music, telling jokes and laughing.  Michael had always been aware of the special nature of the Eight, along with the Dean, Gerry Hansen and even their families.  Their admiration for Adam and Patrick was so natural and genuine.  And of course, now half the Eight were also same-sex couples; Angelo and Lance plus Darcy and Jacob! 

The stroke, Stephen Wu, (otherwise known as ‘Charlie Chan’, a Straits Chinese from Singapore), was ‘promised’ to Annette Chin, also from Singapore, and it looked very much like a business alliance rather than a future marriage.  Yet Stephen, a stockily built and muscled oarsman, was a dedicated supporter of the same-sex lifestyles of his colleagues, as was Andrew Price, who rowed number four and was engaged to a career girl in the rag trade, Amanda. 

Andrew was tall, dark and quite slim; it didn’t matter what they fed him on and how hard they worked him, he simply couldn’t put on much muscle.  And then there was Richard Nation, who had the three seat.  Richard’s family belonged to some loopy religion and Michael knew his life in his parental home was miserable, because he didn’t agree with his mum and dad’s views.  Stocky and with fair hair and complexion, he was handsome for his regular features and quiet, loving nature.  Michael realised the poor kid was under enormous moral pressure and he doubted that his potential marriage to Stephanie Henning would ever work out, due to the interference of his family.  And finally there was Peter Finche, the two man, Richard’s best friend since primary school.  Peter was as dark as Richard was fair; not unlike Patrick in looks with a similar kind-hearted nature.  He and Richard had always been inseparable, but since the advent of Stephanie, Peter had been naturally spending more time with the other crew members.  But combined together, Michael decided, the whole eight of them were wonderful.  In fact, as a group, the loyalty was touching.  He knew the Dean was writing a thesis on them and he was sometimes consulted for an opinion.  Like today.  The Dean had arrived the day before; the boys were having a snooze before evening training and he joined Margaret Reeve and Gerry Hansen for afternoon tea. 

*****

The Dean was both effusive and sober; she was on her best behaviour as the administrative head of an academic institution that was actively and unashamedly marketing itself on the global stage as an alternative and safe place to study.  In beautiful Australia, at the university where Adam and Patrick, the champion double scullers, were a couple in real life.  In a country where the Prime Minister was part of a same-sex marriage, with teenage children.  Where regardless of your sexual or emotional orientation, you could create your dream through study in a non-judgemental environment, and perhaps even find a permanent home there.  Because Australia needed more people. 

Good people who would work hard and perhaps settle permanently there. 

“Margaret, even the straight boys in the crew are so supportive,” said Michael, smiling, “they cuddle Adam and Patrick and mother them like you wouldn’t believe.” 

“Oh, I’d believe it all right, Michael, because there are no straight ones,” said the Dean, seemingly with authority, and causing Gerry Hansen’s mouth to drop open. 

“Oh,” she said, “they’ll probably get married, but I maintain each and every one of the four remaining are same-sex attracted in some way.  For what I lack in fact,” she said, “I make up for in intuition.”  For once, Michael and Gerry were completely lost for words. 

“Look,” she went on, “I’m not pretending to be Australia’s version of Alfred Kinsey, or even a modern day researcher in the field, I’m just an observer.” 

“A bloody good one, Margaret,” laughed Gerry.  “I must say I’ve never known you to be wrong about anything like this, ever!  What makes you so sure of Stephen, Andrew, Richard and Peter?” 

“You see,” said the Dean excitedly, “you even got the partnerships right!”  “Margaret,” said Michael, “you’re wrong, no way!” 

Totally nonplussed, she continued.  “It’s all a matter of timing cycles, family attitudes, and societal attitudes.  Firstly and foremost, is societal attitudes.  That’s the defining motivator.  To say there is almost no opposition to same-sex attraction is a bit of an understatement these days.  We’ve almost come the full circle from ancient Greece and Rome, where ‘normality’ was simply two people ----- of either sex!  Importantly, with kids on their journey through primary school, high school, college and finally university, I can confidently state there is no peer group pressure to conform to the hetero model as was the case in the past.”   Both men nodded their heads in agreement. 

“But having accepted the physical ‘norms’ of this new society of ours, what about the emotional needs of people?” she continued.  “That’s what’s changed,” she beamed.  “It’s not just the physical that’s so different with boys now, it’s the emotional.  The expectation from their parents that they will conform to the old heterosexual mould is changing rapidly!  The kids are changing their own parents’ mindset," she cackled.  “Look at Lance and Angelo!  And especially Darcy and Jacob!”  Michael and Gerry nodded.  “These boys are falling in love with each other so naturally and completely.”  She looked up as none other than Maurie Chapman walked into the restaurant. 

“Maurie darling,” she roared, “join us, please!  Where’s the family?” she demanded. 

“Well, Will and Tom are checking out the rowing course,” he replied, “and Melanie and Mary are shopping, darlings, surprise, surprise!  And it looks like I’m having afternoon tea with some old friends, which sounds much more sensible.  No whisky, Margaret?” he enquired. 

“None until sunset,” she replied, “when the little eyes are averted and my reputation is less likely to be tarnished.  In the meantime Maurie, it’s Earl Grey for you I believe?  We were just discussing the progress of my thesis, Maurie,” she continued.  “I was just saying how the thing that’s changed lately is the emotional mindset of the young boys.  I mean for generations, if not forever, females have comfortably fallen in love with each other, forged partnerships for life and generally got on with it.  In many cases, however, if you referred to them as lesbians, they would most probably be quite offended.”  She looked at Gerry and smiled.  “Gerry will tell you how things have changed.  How the boys have much more honesty and responsibility in the way they conduct themselves, how the guilt trip they felt when they got involved with another boy almost always kicked in and they went away and married a nice girl, so they felt good about themselves.  Even though they may have used a series of boys for physical gratification, they usually elected to live a heterosexual existence.” 

“Yes,” said Maurie, “and played on the side with men for the rest of their lives.”  “How sad,” said Michael, “what a waste of innocent lives.  But what about our boys, starting with Adam and Patrick?  Wasn’t that a re-run of your life, Maurie?”  “Yes Michael, you could say that, except that Will and I had to really fight hard against public opinion, with almost no role models and no family support except for Tom and Mary.  Indeed, if we hadn’t had Tom and Mary we may not have made it as a couple.  Adam and Patrick fell in love in a totally different environment where there were absolutely no hang-ups about straight boy/gay boy sex and partnerships!  Anyone who doubts what I am saying should talk to Angelo!  But instantly Adam and Patrick became a couple, the family network closed ranks around them.  In fact the family network was in place before they were!” 

The group laughed; a sharing of happy times and special people. 

“In Ancient Rome,” said the Dean, “the fellas would walk around, hand-in-hand with their boyfriends; they were evidently very closely emotionally dependent on each other, but every night they would each go home to their women and children where there was a physical relationship waiting.  Muslim men to this day enjoy a similar relationship with their men friends.  But of course, the legendary ten per cent still applies to all societies, old and new, and all manner of domestic arrangements came about to satisfy that criteria.  There are many stories with a firm basis of fact which describe many of these wonderful same-sex love affairs with some very high profile people, like Alexander the Great,” she smiled. 

“But Margaret, how do you explain Lance and Angelo, and more pointedly, Darcy and Jacob?” said Michael, with furrowed brow. 

“Well,” said the Dean, “that’s the nub of my thesis which I hope to publish in book form, of course.  If this happened just a very few years ago, the common factor in the relationships of Adam and Patrick and Angelo and Lance in particular, is that it would have gone nowhere.  Very sad in years past.  They would have dismissed their affairs as lust, not love, something that simply didn’t happen between men.  They had no role models back then!  Ask Tim O’Brien and Praveen how hard it was even in the early nineties!  And my darling mate Maurie here; how brave you all were!  How you must have loved each other!  But the truly interesting partnership in today’s world is Darcy and Jacob!  Two straight boys!  Absolutely beautiful!  Completely besotted with each other!  The only ones who aren’t surprised seem to be Darcy and Jacob themselves!” 

Gerry laughed.  “They even changed streams so they could spend more time with each other!” 

“Yes I remember,” said the Dean.  “Jack Carruthers, the lecturer was a bit concerned because not only did they end up in the same stream together, they sat next to each other, with Jacob’s head on Darcy’s shoulder, with their eyes closed!  Nothing naughty, just close.  And they’ve still ended up with the best marks in the group, just like Angelo and Lance!  So what I’ve done,” said the Dean slowly, “is to seek everyone’s permission in the Eight, plus Adam and Patrick, for this thesis/cum study.  I’ve naturally kept my views on the remaining four guys private, and I’d ask that you do the same?” 

They nodded with the exception of Maurie. 

“Margaret,” he said, “the two man, Peter; you need to be careful there.  I agree, there is no doubt, never been more sure of anything.  But I think he’s just getting over a secret little affair with Richard and therefore, he’s going to need understanding and support.” 

The Dean nodded wisely. 

“So in the group, you’ve got Patrick, Angelo and Peter who were born gay as a minimum.  The remainder have fallen in love with them and in the case of Darcy and Jacob, with each other!” 

“Yes,” said the Dean.  “Exactly.  However, there’s the matter of a wager I have with my husband.  I know I’ll eventually win it, but like a fool, I put a time line on it.  I said the other four boys would show their hand within a ten-year period ----- 2030.  If I win, I get a case of Ballantine’s every New Year’s Day.”  She looked at the group.  “And if I bloody lose, he gets breakfast in bed for the rest of his life!” 

*****

Craig Williamson looked in awe at the volume of emails that had been downloaded and printed, washing across his desk at the Games Village like a tidal wave.  A small army of helpers were collecting them every hour or so and delivering them.  A television breakfast show had started this process back around 2004 when they encouraged listeners to email their favourite athlete at the Games Village and wish them luck.  Ninety-eight per cent of these were for Adam and Patrick.  No one else seemed to matter.  There were offers, too of marriage (both sexes) money, holidays, etc, etc.  That was from Australia, where they were now a household word, the ‘face’ of the Australian Olympic Squad. 

But what really amazed him, was the international volume, where they had become known only through the publicity generated by the Australian Olympic campaign.  A campaign using international media, started by Williamson Partners to correct the inaccuracies and sensationalism of the Australian press.  Craig had softened up the global newspapers first with a series of press releases, then used the music video on the Internet.  There was no stopping the campaign; the concept of two Olympic athletes deeply in love; in perfect rhythm with each other, their partnership a key factor in their sporting performance, was unique.  They had fired imaginations around the world.  And it had become personal for Craig.  Their eldest boy, Simon, now eighteen had ‘come out’ to his parents because of the ‘really cool’ example set by Adam and Patrick!  Craig sighed to himself.  The Australian Parliament was driving this campaign and the longer it ran, naturally the more international attention it generated.  But how much was enough, he asked himself.  Being too famous was a terrible cross to bear; Adam and Patrick would never have a life of their own, and he already understood that lifestyle was certainly not what they would ever want. 

He decided to talk to Praveen; the official party due in that evening.