parcels from his motherâs car later that day.
âHow many people is Santa catering for, Mum?â
âYou have no idea what it was like, Chris. You were wise to stay home instead of coming into Coffs with us. The shopping mall was jam-packed. The carols over the PA were much too loud and the Christmas decorations were all starting to droop. It was festive mayhem,â said Susan.
âBunny kept running into her friends and we lost each other, twice,â said Megan cheerfully.
âThank goodness for mobile phones, or Iâd never have found you and Iâd have had to leave you there.â
âNo, you wouldnât have,â laughed Megan.
âYouâve bought a stack of things, by the looks of it,â said Chris. âNot all for yourself, Megan, I hope!â
âOnly one or two, the rest are for my friends. I just see things I know theyâll love. Youâre really hard to buy for, Dad,â said Megan, hastily changing the subject. âBut we found something perfect for you.â
âOh, this all looks worse than it is. Megan found some crazy gift warehouse that had sprung up and bought a lot of silly fun things. She has a tribe of friends, it seems,â broke in Susan.
Megan took her parcels inside to inspect her merchandise while Chris and Susan walked slowly behind her.
âHow did you go today? Did you get a chance to do any job hunting?â Susan asked.
âI rang the contacts that Mac gave me, but none of them could help. Told me that theyâd get straight back to me if anything came up, but no one sounded very hopeful. Then I got on to my old editor, John, to ask him what the other journos whoâd got the flick were doing. See if I could get some ideas. It wasnât very encouraging, either.â
âCan I ask what he said?â
âHe told me that some of the old ex-Trinity staff were freelancing.â
âYou could do that.â
âMum, freelancing only pays about seventy cents a word,â said Chris.
âA thousand words and youâve got seven hundred dollars,â countered Susan.
âDoesnât sound too bad, I know, but there are all sorts of conditions attached.â Chris explained how freelancers only got paid based on the number of words that actually went to print. And they got paid nothing at all if the paper decided not to go ahead with the story.
âThat doesnât sound very fair to me.â
âNor me, Mum, especially when you consider the costs of getting the story like phone calls and travel. I could do a bit, I suppose, but it would hardly support me, let alone a teenage daughter as well.â
âWell, itâs early days yet. You know that new people rarely get hired over the holiday season. No one is looking for staff when theyâre busy planning their holiday,â said Susan.
âBut on the other hand, this can sometimes be a good time of year to get a foot in the door because the regular staff are on leave. Your work has a better chance of being noticed, but I canât show anyone what I can do if I canât even get a short-term contract.â
âYouâre a well-known journalist, for goodness sake! Iâm sure that something will turn up after Christmas. Come on, Chris, letâs go inside. I need to set up Santaâs workshop in my sewing room. And no one is allowed in to poke around,â she said in a warning voice.
*
Later that afternoon, the car wound up the narrow road that twisted around the mountainside. Megan gazed at the rainforest towering above them. At several places rivulets of water cascaded over well-worn rock faces beside the road in picturesque waterfalls. On the other side, the road fellaway sharply towards a tangle of ferns and undergrowth and a lush canopy of trees whose roots were grounded hundreds of metres below in the steep valley.
âOoh, I canât look down there. Itâs too scary. Imagine what itâs going
âHow many people is Santa catering for, Mum?â
âYou have no idea what it was like, Chris. You were wise to stay home instead of coming into Coffs with us. The shopping mall was jam-packed. The carols over the PA were much too loud and the Christmas decorations were all starting to droop. It was festive mayhem,â said Susan.
âBunny kept running into her friends and we lost each other, twice,â said Megan cheerfully.
âThank goodness for mobile phones, or Iâd never have found you and Iâd have had to leave you there.â
âNo, you wouldnât have,â laughed Megan.
âYouâve bought a stack of things, by the looks of it,â said Chris. âNot all for yourself, Megan, I hope!â
âOnly one or two, the rest are for my friends. I just see things I know theyâll love. Youâre really hard to buy for, Dad,â said Megan, hastily changing the subject. âBut we found something perfect for you.â
âOh, this all looks worse than it is. Megan found some crazy gift warehouse that had sprung up and bought a lot of silly fun things. She has a tribe of friends, it seems,â broke in Susan.
Megan took her parcels inside to inspect her merchandise while Chris and Susan walked slowly behind her.
âHow did you go today? Did you get a chance to do any job hunting?â Susan asked.
âI rang the contacts that Mac gave me, but none of them could help. Told me that theyâd get straight back to me if anything came up, but no one sounded very hopeful. Then I got on to my old editor, John, to ask him what the other journos whoâd got the flick were doing. See if I could get some ideas. It wasnât very encouraging, either.â
âCan I ask what he said?â
âHe told me that some of the old ex-Trinity staff were freelancing.â
âYou could do that.â
âMum, freelancing only pays about seventy cents a word,â said Chris.
âA thousand words and youâve got seven hundred dollars,â countered Susan.
âDoesnât sound too bad, I know, but there are all sorts of conditions attached.â Chris explained how freelancers only got paid based on the number of words that actually went to print. And they got paid nothing at all if the paper decided not to go ahead with the story.
âThat doesnât sound very fair to me.â
âNor me, Mum, especially when you consider the costs of getting the story like phone calls and travel. I could do a bit, I suppose, but it would hardly support me, let alone a teenage daughter as well.â
âWell, itâs early days yet. You know that new people rarely get hired over the holiday season. No one is looking for staff when theyâre busy planning their holiday,â said Susan.
âBut on the other hand, this can sometimes be a good time of year to get a foot in the door because the regular staff are on leave. Your work has a better chance of being noticed, but I canât show anyone what I can do if I canât even get a short-term contract.â
âYouâre a well-known journalist, for goodness sake! Iâm sure that something will turn up after Christmas. Come on, Chris, letâs go inside. I need to set up Santaâs workshop in my sewing room. And no one is allowed in to poke around,â she said in a warning voice.
*
Later that afternoon, the car wound up the narrow road that twisted around the mountainside. Megan gazed at the rainforest towering above them. At several places rivulets of water cascaded over well-worn rock faces beside the road in picturesque waterfalls. On the other side, the road fellaway sharply towards a tangle of ferns and undergrowth and a lush canopy of trees whose roots were grounded hundreds of metres below in the steep valley.
âOoh, I canât look down there. Itâs too scary. Imagine what itâs going
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