Conversation with Intent (Kerry)

You've accidentally dialled the wrong phone number, but the person who answers sounds familiar. Immediately he/she recognizes you, but because you made the call you're too embarrassed to ask who it is. Using only dialogue, figure out who the person is.

“Hello.”

“Ahh…hello. Who…I mean, how are you?” I stutter into the phone, momentarily confused by an unexpected male voice.

“Basil! I don’t believe it. I haven’t heard from you for ages. You old dog. What’re you up to?” he enquires cheerily, recognising me straight away.

“Pretty much business as usual,” I reply non-committally. “As long as water keeps flowing under the Harbour Bridge I reckon there’s not too much to complain about. No major disaster anyway. And you? What’s happening with you?” I add, hoping to glean some clues about his identity.

“Actually, I’m really good thanks, Basil. Shirley’s retired now too so we’re finally able to loosen up a bit. You know, a spot of travel, the theatre, that sort of thing,” he muses.

“Good to hear that life’s going well. Any special trips on your agenda?” I ask.

“In fact we were thinking of coming over your way for a holiday. Still living in the same swanky part of town I suppose. Never could work out how you could afford it,” the mystery voice responds, challenging me to bite.

“Depends on your definition of swanky,” I reply, bristling with indignation. “We’ve moved around a bit in our time. I guess you could say we’ve made the most of our opportunities. We’re settled in Point Piper at the moment.” In order to cover myself and not to appear discourteous, I add, “Of course, happy to see you again. Just let us know when and how many.”

“Thanks, Basil. You know, we loved that retreat arrangement in the backyard at Vaucluse. Where you put Shirley and me when we visited.”

“Yeah, that old cabin was pretty useful when we had lots of people staying. Specially for our Christmas parties,” I remember, nostalgically.

“We were glad to have somewhere away from the main house to be with the littlies. They’re well and truly grown up now, of course,” he says.

“Of course,” I parrot. “Off your hands, I hope. Young people these days are so hard to get out of the house.”

“Off our hands! I should say so,” Mystery Man laughs, like I’ve missed the joke. “Our baby, Jimmy, just had his fortieth. He’s working in IT in the States. California. Bill and Greg are married and earning enough to support their families. Helps me sleep at night, knowing they’re all independent.”

Three little boys. Forty years ago. Now it’s coming back. It was one of those seventies parties, stretching out for a few days, plenty of beer around the pool, relaxed. Know what I mean? We put the family out in the backyard because of those three little rascals. We couldn’t risk having them spoil the party by annoying the other guests. This is my ex-boss from Hell, Andy Watkins. I handed in my resignation after that party. Couldn’t face dealing with his autocratic ways another day.

“Well, nice talking, Andy. Regards to Shirley.” I feverishly consider a way to put him off coming to visit us. “We’re planning a move overseas pretty soon. Might have to postpone that visit, eh?”