Aussie Chomps : Captain Stella

Chapter One

They had already decided to go, Stella realised. In their heads, they were already there, at the 25th International Real Estate and Home Beautiful Conference in Las Vegas.

'It's a fantastic chance to network with real­ estate professionals from around the world,' Lucille Seaton said.

'And get valuable insights into the US market,' Henry Seaton added.

'We owe it to our careers to go,' Lucille said.

'After all, who knows what emerging global opportunities might . . . er . . . emerge,' Henry said.

'I must design some new business cards,' Lucille said thoughtfully.

Stella didn't mind about not going with her parents, even though it would be the school holidays. Nothing in the brochures her parents had brought home suggested that Las Vegas might be an exciting place for a holiday. It looked like a bunch of peculiar-looking hotels stuck in the middle of a desert, with nothing for visitors to do but gamble and eat and watch other people gambling and eating. When her parents had explained, rather apologetically, why she wouldn't be going with them ('Such a long way . . . meetings . . . dinners every night . . . you'd be bored'), she had given a resigned little sigh and murmured mournfully, 'I understand.'

'Good girl, we knew you would,' Henry said.

'Daddy and I will bring you back a lovely present,' Lucille promised.

So that was all right. She didn't have to go to boring Las Vegas and she would get a lovely present. But who would look after her for two weeks while her parents were away?

Stella had a sudden brilliant idea.

'I could stay with Chester,' she said eagerly.

'Chester!' Lucille exclaimed, her eyebrows shooting skywards like they did when a hopeful house buyer put in an offer she considered way below the market price. 'An old man who lives on his own? I don't think so, Stella.'

Stella wanted to argue that Chester Vizard might be an old man but it wasn't true to say that he lived on his own. In his new Mediterranean townhouse he was surrounded by friendly and concerned neighbours, like Jeffrey and Shane, and Marcel and Melissa, who looked out for him. In return, he cooked them all sorts of delicious treats. Chester was a former pastry chef, so his baked goods were always received with pleasure. It was a very satisfactory arrangement.

And of course Stella was there almost every afternoon and weekend in Stella Maris, her beloved little cubby house fronting the sea that she rented from Chester. That, too, was a very satisfactory arrangement, given that Stella lived with her parents in a penthouse in Bayview Towers with absolutely nowhere to put a cubby house, especially a solid timber one with a ladder, balcony and water tank.

'I don't see why I can't stay with Chester,' Stella said. 'He's kind and responsible, and a great cook. I'd be in my cubby house or on the beach most of the day, anyway, so I'd just sleep and eat at Chester's. He's got a spare bedroom.' Her face brightened. 'Or we could put a blow-up bed in the cubby and I could sleep there. That would be excellent!'

It would be so excellent that Stella could hardly wait for her parents to depart for Las Vegas.

But her father was shaking his head and saying it was out of the question, and her mother had that determined glint in her eye that meant she had made up her mind and nothing was going to change it.

'You're going to stay with Granny Bee, Stella,' she said. 'It's all been arranged.'

Stella's face fell. Granny Bee lived in a unit with a bad-tempered cat called Clive. There was nothing to do there and nobody to play with, and it was a long way from the sea.

Even Las Vegas would be more fun than staying at Granny Bee's.