My 20 year old daughter Cara is home for the weekend. Normally she lives with her mother, but she likes the freedom I allow her. She arrives around midday on Saturday, takes off her big sunglasses and kisses me on the cheek. Christ she's a lovely kid. She's hardly put down her bag when she says she's going to cook dinner for me and, by the way, can she have a couple of friends over this afternoon.
She knows I'll give her anything she asks and doesn't wait for an answer before going to the fridge and checking what I've got in stock. She sees the left over pizza, row of beers, carton of orange juice, open tin of peaches, looks over her shoulder and says, 'You drink this juice straight from the carton, don't you?' I nod.
She makes up a shopping list and I get some sandals on and head down to the shops. By the time I get back, there's half a dozen of her friends lounging round the pool, including her current boyfriend, Andre, a super cool architecture student whose mother is Vietnamese. We nod -- he's OK -- and amongst the others I only recognise Jeremy, a friend of Cara's from school days. He is a skinny pale youth in baggy cut off jeans with fresh jagged edge tattoos on his weedy biceps, a barbell through one eyebrow and a skin head hair cut. Obviously he's turned into a waster. He gives me a tough scowl and I crunch his pussy hand when we shake, smiling as if unaware that he's in pain. I get introduced to the others whose names I instantly forget and who are remarkable only for their perfect tans, tinted hair and expensive accessories -- one of them is no doubt the owner of the Audi that's parked out front.
I grab a beer and sit with Cara and Andre for a half hour, then head inside to watch the cricket on TV. There's a break in the game and I go to the kitchen for another beer. There are squeals from the pool and I look over. The beautiful people are splashing each other, though not in a way that would mess their hair. Cara and Andre are in the deep end, faces an inch apart, hands no doubt busy at waist level. Jeremy is lounging back, smoking and drinking one of my beers. He sees me looking and takes a pull at his beer, his middle finger going up. I think about returning the salute, but shrug my shoulders and return to the TV.
Another break in the game and I look out the kitchen window again. The girls have their bikini tops off and are lying in a row sunbathing. Cara's tits are small, round and tanned. I wonder where she inherited them from because they're nothing like her mother's which, even at that age, were oversized and low hanging.
A couple of hours later people are leaving. Cara sees them off then comes over to the couch and kisses my cheek. 'There's a party on at Phillipa's,' she says. 'I'm going with Andre, and I'll be back to cook your dinner. OK?' I nod and a few minutes later I hear the front door slam.
I'm watching Shane Warne bowl another magic over when I hear a girl's laughter from the back yard. Shit! I thought everyone had gone. I go through to the kitchen and look out the window. A dark haired girl whose name I can't remember is lying back on the lounge, bikini top on the ground, holding her little tits out to Jeremy. He drags on what looks like a joint and reaches a hand out to fondle.
I storm outside. They look up as the screen door slams and the girl squeals and grabs up her bikini. Jeremy gets a fright then tries to look tough. I stride up and without pausing give him a smack on the ear that knocks him onto his butt on the paving. I try to grab his hair, but it's too short and I can't get a grip. So I pick him up by his scrawny throat and smack him on the ear again. His face is all red and veins are popping out all over the place. There's a trickle of blood from behind his ear and I slap the side of his face hard enough to make his teeth rattle.
'You little prick,' I growl. His eyes bulge and I can see he's terrified. 'You come in here with drugs. I oughta call the police.' I see from his eyes that he really doesn't want that and give him another smack on the ear that knocks him back on his butt. He scuttles out of range and I bunch my fists. 'Clear off,' I say. 'You've got 10 seconds.'
He reaches for a bag and his t-shirt that are under the lounge and I kick his hand, making him yelp. He holds his scraped knuckles and I step forward and kick his bony knee, making him howl. '5 seconds.'
He grabs his stuff, scrambles to his feet and runs to the side gate. He can't undo the catch and, feeling me coming up behind him, starts to climb over. I land a solid satisfying punch in his kidneys then heave him up. He loses his balance at the top and falls over the other side, picks himself up and limps down the side of the house. I open the gate and walk after him. He hobbles to the Audi and fumbles with the keys. He gets it open and locks the door before I get there. I pound the roof and kick the door, making a dozen dents, before he gets it going and peels away from the kerb leaving rubber on the pavement. I get one more kick in that shatters the tail light. I figure he's borrowed the car from his mother and briefly wonder how he's going to explain the damage.
Laughing, I walk back down the side of the house. I haven't had so much fun since I used to play football. Jeremy's little bag is in the long grass by the side gate. I open it expecting to find bathers and sun cream or something, but that's not what he was carrying. It contains a couple of plastic bags of pills -- one lot pink and round, the other yellow and hexagonal. It also has a small bag of white powder, over $800 in $20 and $50 notes, and two mobile phones.
I feel sick to my stomach. The little bastard has been dealing drugs and quite possibly selling to my daughter.
The dark haired girl has made her escape and I spend the next half hour tidying up the pool area, trying to calm down. I go inside and flush the drugs down the toilet then smash the mobile phones with a hammer and clip the sim cards in half with shears. I put the cash in my wallet -- hey, $800 is $800!
Cara doesn't come home until nearly 1am -- so much for the dinner she was going to cook me. She's heard that I beat up Jeremy and says that all her friends think I'm a legend. She waves her hand airily when I ask her about the drugs and she says yeah, Jeremy deals and a couple of her friends get party drugs from him, but it's nothing hard. Yes, she's got ecstasy from him a couple of times in the past, but she had a bad reaction the last time and hasn't used it again. It's good to chat about these things and I eventually go to bed with my mind at ease. I didn't tell her about finding Jeremy's bag.
Cara leaves late the next morning saying she's having lunch with Andre's family and that she'll phone during the week. I have a round of golf planned and leave the house just after midday. I'm half way to the golf course when I realise I've left the membership renewal on the desk in my study. It's overdue and I won't get on the course without it so have to turn round and go home.
