This is an unexpected continuation of ‘Anything Goes’ that started to gel while the original was being posted. The ABC in the story is the Australian Broadcasting Corporation. Historical references and all places are real.

Chapter 1

I was standing at the kitchen sink, washing up the breakfast things, It was a Sunday, the sun was shining, and I could see my husband and daughter frolicking in our swimming pool. It was now ten years since we had moved from Chelmsford to Australia, and things had changed.

Randall was now a Detective Inspector, and our more regular guests were his small team and their families. Mind you, even that could end up as twenty on the patio when the BarBeQue was in operation. We had come here for change, and change is what we got, in spades!

We were now naturalised Australians with dual passports. We enjoyed life in Nowra, not just living and working, we really enjoyed life. We were living a different life and had, finally, become used to not being served baked beans or mushy peas with almost every meal.

We had spent weekends at different beauty spots down the coast and holidays in the capital cities across the country. We had buried my mother here and had flown to England for Clives’ funeral. There would have been a time when Randall wouldn’t have crossed the road to talk to his father, but distance did make the heart grow fonder, and they talked a lot in his last years, by phone and email.

One of the things that may have helped was when we adopted Pauline. She was a scared little thing of five when we took her in. I could see a future beauty with a brain, Randall had seen her mother, brutally stabbed to death by her father, who was now in prison for the rest of his life. Pauline had clung to Randall as he was directing his team at the crime scene, and so had stolen his heart.

That had been years ago, and she was now ten, top of her class in school, and a pretty good guitar player. She had accepted me as soon as I spoke, as her mother had always had her radio on the local Nowra station where I was a regular presenter. My voice had allowed her to remember the good days, so I was a double act – her new mother and a link to her birth mother.

My original spot as ‘Anything Goes with Carol’ had only run a couple of years before I was sucked into the station management. Over the years, I had remained steadfast as volunteers came and went, finally taking over the management last year. I was only on air for special occasions now, such as big events in the city and commemorative programs.

We had windfalls along the way. When my mother died, I discovered that her estate was split sixty / forty, with me getting the bigger part. Alex had stayed with us for her funeral, and we had enjoyed our time together. We had a lot of laughs about the old days. He said that his teenager had commandeered his F15 and F35 jackets that I had given to him while I had been in Mildenhall.

Alex was now in charge of all the company stores in East Anglia, after we had been brought out, and his share of the estate would add to his growing portfolio of assets and small collection of vintage Jaguars. For me, it gave me something to back whatever the Chivers family wanted to do next. It had been added to from the Chivers’ side, surprisingly. Clive had sold his sporting franchise in Cambridge for a good sum and had used some of it on a lavish lifestyle with Briony before he died. She had turned out to be more level-headed than my first impressions of her and had eventually sold off the family home and his collection of art works, to fund a quieter life in an apartment in Norwich, the occasional toyboy, and regular trips to us as part of her own exploration of the great southern land.

Randall had been left a good cash sum, which was now sitting next to mine, in our bank and earning interest. We had three major ways of spending our money. One was making sure that Pauline always looked her best and enjoyed all that school could give her. Two was funding our very strong social life. The third was our love of the MG cars. We had my latest modern four-door for whenever we went anywhere as a family, but for fun we had the two-doors.

Randalls’ original MGB hardtop now had a GT companion. A later model rebuilt and re-engine’d in Wollongong. We had seen it at rallies, and I had fallen for it, so when it came up for sale, we bought it before anyone else could get a look-in. It was in British Racing Green, another hard-top, but powered by a GM five-litre Vee-eight which was why there was a sexy bulge in the bonnet and discs all round. It had air-conditioning, a sound system and sounded as if it was ready to take on the world.

We went on rallies with the club, long weekends mainly. We had seen many of the regional towns in NSW, and a few in eastern Victoria. Many, though, had been organised in places around Canberra, in the summer months. We had made a lot of friends in the process, and it wasn’t unexpected that we were asked to be more involved at club level.

About the time we adopted Pauline, I had been approached by a couple about selling my business. The man was an electrician and electronics fanatic. They had bought their first TV from me when they had married, and other things over the years. They had a windfall of their own, having the winning ticket in one of the lotteries. They wanted to use the winnings to set themselves up in business at about the time that I was learning to be a mother. Needless to say, it all ended with everyone happy and me with more time on my hands.

It's a very strange thing being thrown into new situations and just carrying on. My days were spent looking after my family and the tidying the house. Shopping and stocking up was a close second, along with clothing maintenance. Third place was all other things.

Those included reading through paperwork from the school, paperwork from the radio station, and paperwork from the car club. For relaxation, I had set up a workbench in the garage and was in the process of building a tiny, but powerful, amplifier for Pauline. I did a lot of these things to the sound of the station on the speakers through the house.

Over my time in radio, I had heard a lot of music, through decades of themes. One thing that had struck me here was the wonderful variety of music ‘down under’. There were some bands and artists that I had heard in England, advertised as OZ bands. The thing was that I could now explore their back catalogues. In some of my radio shows, I had admitted that I was new in the country and had asked my listeners what I should listen to. I had been given many lists, family trees of current big stars, with the bands and other musicians that had been involved.

There was a huge story there, between Australia and New Zealand, of musicians who had become household names around the world. Some had arrived here in the sixties as migrants. Songs that I had played on the radio countless times had originated here, ‘down under’.

Pauline wasn’t into the oldies, more into pop and a sort of progressive hip-hop electronica, which was making her amp project a lot of fun, I had poured myself a glass of wine on the day that I had created an effect that turned the input into the sound of a fart, in reverb and Lesley. Pauline loved it and was out in the garage, plugged into the rig, and playing everything that she knew, using that setting for days.

She and I were more than mother and daughter, we were friends. I may have said that she was a bright girl, and I was proud of her, but it was more than that. I could almost sense her future would be wonderful. She often wanted me to tell her my own story. I never held back that I wasn’t exactly the shape that I was meant to be, but she would give me a smile and a hug, telling me that I’m the shape I always should have been.

Actually, Pauline had taught me a lot. She was typical Aussie in that she had Vegemite on bread and toast. The first time I had started to spread it for her, she told me off. Now, Vegemite was something alien to us poor newcomers, so I hadn’t known that it was such a strong taste, you do not spread it like jam. It takes a mere streak on the bread, spread thinly, to enable you to even begin to appreciate it. Now, I understand all those clips I’d seen of people taking a spoonful to try and then having to spit it out. I could eat it, but only when I had to.

Another thing that was new to me was netball. I was, of course, knowledgeable about the sport, but here it was a staple for girls at school. There was a strong league, both statewide and nationally, and the two of us had been into Sydney to watch games. Eventually, because I had ‘time on my hands’, I was pulled into being one of the official minders of her school team whenever they needed to go anywhere by coach. That led to being dragged into getting my own outfit and being part of a mothers team, which would play the girls as a warm-up. We may have been bigger, but they could run rings around us!

We were at a schools netball carnival in Wollongong. It was being held over the long weekend of the Kings’ Birthday. Our contingent was housed in a hotel, some way from the netball complex at Berkeley. The Coniston was very good, with just two teams staying there. Both were ‘Under Elevens’. Our team had been the only one from the south to qualify, while the other team had been the only one from the Newcastle area, north of Sydney. Most of the other junior and senior teams came from the Sydney / Illawarra region. We had arrived on the Friday evening, with the Juniors all playing on Saturday morning.

Of course, we were all fed as a group, in one of the function rooms. The girls all congregated at a group of tables, leaving us mothers to mingle. I found myself sitting next to a very businesslike lady called Emily, from Warners Bay, just south of Newcastle. Over the meal, we talked about our daughters. While we were waiting for dessert, she smiled.

“You have a very interesting voice, Carol. Perfect for radio.”

“That has been said, Emily. Before we came to Australia, I was working with an FM station in East Anglia, and then spent a few years with BBC Essex. I’ve had a show on the Nowra Community Radio and am now the volunteer manager.”

“Now, that’s very interesting. I work for the ABC in Sydney, in an office that co-ordinates our regional news and features for both the radio and TV. We don’t have a current reporter from Nowra, and there was a whisper that has come in regarding the change of status of the airfield there. Have you been there?”

“My husband is a Detective Inspector and has had several cases involving service personnel. We’ve organised a couple of car rallies on the base, with helicopter rides and a tour. Nothing as grand as the ones that I had been into in England.”

That led to me having to relate my COVID experience on the bases.

“How busy are you?”

“Just looking after my family and keeping on top of the paperwork from the school, the car club, and the radio station. Pauline takes up a lot of my time while she’s still in primary, but that will only be for a while. I’m sure that when she gets into secondary, she’ll insist on her privacy.”

“That’s what happens, I can tell you from experience. It’s what you teach them now that will lead them on the correct path. Look, do you have a business card? Here’s mine. I’ll talk to my management and get back to you later on. In the meantime, can you put your ear to the ground to find out what’s happening with the base? Your husband may have been advised of any drastic changes.”

We exchanged cards and the weekend carried on as usual. Emilys’ team beat our team in their age final, but we did get to go home with a small trophy. On the way south, the girls told us about the facilities that the other team had for training, which showed me that there was a lot more money between Sydney and Newcastle.

A week or so after that, I decided to take a trip out to the airfield. Although there were some areas fenced off, quite a bit of it was able to be accessed. There was one area where the museum was, and there was also a terminal for passenger aircraft on the Nowra / Sydney run. There was only the one airline approved for operation. Rex still flew from Nowra to Sydney, Canberra, Bathurst and other places. Now owned by Air T, an American company that concentrated on regional services.

At the museum, I got out of the car, looked around as if trying to work something out and waited for Steve to come out and ask me what I wanted. He always sat in the office on slow days, with the security camera linked to a motion sensor. He popped out, almost to order.

“Good morning Carol. What can I do for you?”

“I’m trying to visualise a how many MGs I can line up, thinking about the next rally we will organise in Nowra.”

“Then you’ll need to get in quick. In a year or so, they’ll be closing off a lot more of the place.”

“Oh!. Why is that?”

“I had some hotshot fighter boy in here the other week. He was checking the place out. Told me that his boss was checking the runway length. I told him that we’d had Skyhawks based here, so it would take anything except a big bomber. His patch was that squadron based in Williamstown.”

“An F-35 pilot, then. They would be getting to the ‘too expensive to keep flying’ stage, wouldn’t they?”

“That’s right. I was wondering if they were bring them all down here to store for a while.”

“Nice training area if you’re teaching Kiwi’s to fly them. Bring them back into the fold as a gesture of good will.”

“You sound like you know planes, love.”

“Two years spent going into Lakenheath and six months into Marham in the UK, Steve. I’ve see more F35s in my time than this country could afford. I was part of a team doing parties for the troops during the lockdowns.”

“You certainly got around. If you get something going about a rally, get in touch with the dates before you set anything in stone. Hold on, I’ll get the brochure for you.”

He went in and came out with the brochure and a price list.

“Thanks, Steve. I’ll keep what you’ve told me between us.”

“Doubt that it matters, Carol. The pilot was being quite open about things. It’s just that I’m in the game where I can pick squadron patches from a thousand yards.”

I got back in my car and made my way around the base to the terminal. I parked and went in, seeing one of the mothers I knew on the counter.

“Hello, Joy. I’m after a timetable and pricelist to fly to Sydney, sometime in the future. I may need to go there for meetings.”

“Are you up for the ABC job, then? The last reporter used to fly up every week, for the day. She handed in her loyalty card a few weeks ago. Nice young thing, probably lost the job because she got pregnant.”

“That would be a bit harsh!”

“Happens all the time with jobs like that. She looked good for TV, had a nice voice, but wasn’t very prolific with her stories. That’s why she was going to so many meetings. Her falling pregnant didn’t help, in the end. I was sure that you would be a candidate, seeing your radio experience.”

“They haven’t been in touch. I don’t know what I’d say if they did.”

“Come on, Carol! You’d be perfect. You know more people than she did, you’ve been all over the local area with your sports cars. You’re a natural. Now, I’ll give you the timetables, but we had a meeting last week. We may be getting restricted in our runway use in a year or so. You may have to drive to the Gong to pick up a flight.”

“That would be awkward. What’s happening?”

“There’s going to be some major building happening. That’s all we know.”

“OK, Joy. Thanks for the timetable. I may be back to see you. It would be odd to have a loyalty card for an airline, I wouldn’t have thought that you would do enough flights to make it worthwhile.”

“We have regulars who fly to Canberra and back every day of the week, as well as quite a crowd who go to Sydney. If you do need to travel, make sure that you leave a bit later in the morning and return before four.”

I drove home, deep in thought. That evening, after Pauline had gone to her room, I muted the TV.

“Darling. Have you been told about big things happening over at Albatross?”

“Oh boy! There’s head office telling me that everything’s hushed up, and then you ask me that. What do you know?”

“I believe that in a year or so, there will be a lot of building work there. Probably new hardstands and hangars. Probably a decent maintenance hangar for the F-35s that they’re going to bring down from Williamstown, to make room for something new. With the good things we’ve got going with the EU, I guess we’re going to get some of the latest Eurofighters with the inbuilt AI flight control. I expect that we’ll be very generous and give some of the F-35s to the Philippines. They would act as a canary, as that would be a juicy target for the Chinese if they decide to come south.”

He laughed so hard that he got hiccups. It took a while to calm him down and I got him a glass of water.

“You’re so precious, my darling. That fits with what I’ve been told. Which is to expect an influx of construction workers into town, starting around the middle of the year. Before that, we have to be prepared for the PM and his crowd for a big announcement.”

We left it at that and turned the silent TV off and went to bed. Life went on for another week until I got a phone call.

“Carol, it’s Emily. We spoke at the netball do.”

“Oh, yes, Emily. How are you?”

“Very good. Is it possible for you to come and visit us in Ultimo, next Monday?”

“I could. Is it for what we spoke about then?”

“It is. My boss has heard a recording of one of your recent shows. It was collected by our office in the Illawarra. He is keen to talk to you. Did you follow up the other thing we spoke about?”

“I did.”

“Anything you can tell me over the phone?”

“I’ll just say that there’s a big base, very close to you, and that you should be making enquiries there.”

“I’ll get the Newcastle guys to nose around. Thanks, Carol. I’ll email you the meeting place and time. I’ll look forward to seeing you and comparing notes.”

On the Monday, I had a ticket on a Rex flight to Sydney at half-past nine. It’s only a forty-minute flight and the taxi dropped me off outside the ABC at Ultimo at a quarter to eleven, in good time for my appointment. I went to the reception and gave my name. They gave me a prepared visitor badge with my name on and asked me to sit down. Five minutes later, a young man with a goatee came up to me.

“Carol Chivers? I’m Hugo Warner. If you follow me, I’ll escort you to the meeting room.”

“Right behind you, Hugo.”

On the way, he chatted about the weather, how I enjoyed the flight up from Nowra, and the parlous state of Sydney traffic. I tried to keep up with him, both in stride and in conversation. We were high in the building when we arrived at a door, He opened it and ushered me in.

“Our guest is here.”

Emily and a couple of men were in the room, one in an expensive suit. They all rose, and Emily gave me a hug, the introduced me to the others. The suited one was Sir Edward Nesbitt, the head of the news division. He had been one of the newsreaders on TV when we had arrived in the country. We sat down and Hugo poured water for me. Sir Edward smiled.

“Mrs. Chivers. I welcome you to the Ultimo headquarters. I have to say that I’ve listened to recordings of you on radio, and I wondered why we hadn’t asked you to join us before. Now, seeing you, I can tell you that you are in the demographic that we like in our reporters. Young enough to be fresh yet mature enough to be believed.”

“Thank you, sir. Age isn’t anything I can change.”

“Quite so. Now, before we talk about you, we must talk about a story. What do you know about the goings-on at Nowra?”

“I’ve been told that there may be restrictions on the usage by Rex in a year or so, through building work. My husband has told me that the police have been warned of an impending announcement by the PM and then an influx of construction workers next year. The museum had a visit from a pilot with a Williamstown squadron patch, who was on the base with his boss to check the runway condition. I guessed that they were looking at it to take F-35s, which is why I asked Emily to look at Williamstown when she called me.”

“That, young lady, is what I call investigative journalism. Emily did direct her reporters to ask leading questions at Williamstown. Officially, all is normal, but contractors have been told about some scaling back for a few months, in a year or so, but not to worry, as business will be bigger after that, Our political and business reporters were asked to find out if there were any major negotiations regarding military aircraft and have reported a lot of meetings between us and the makers of the newest Eurofighter. Considering the rift between us and America, taking new American planes would be politically bad for any future government. It was bad enough to end up with only two well-used submarines after all that money wasted on AUKUS. The US is unreliable, even these days, so a deal with the EU is logical. Is there anything you would like to add before we talk about you?”

“Just that I would be having reporters asking about us helping one of the island countries to improve an airfield, or two. A squadron of F-35s between us and China would be a handy indicator if they want to expand. Our ‘canary in the mine’ so to speak.”

There was silence in the room before Emily giggled and Sir Edward guffawed.

“That’s priceless. We give them our old planes to act as an alarm clock! Any major overhauls could be carried out at the new facility at Albatross, with a couple of planes shipped in through Jervis Bay at a time. Low key ongoing after a high-profile goodwill gesture. Just the thing that the politicians love. I don’t think that the rest of this meeting is going to take a lot of time. What do you say, Emily?”

“I agree, sir. Carol has shown us that she’s not just someone who listens, but also has a high degree of intelligence and thinking out of left field. If what we’ve spoken about is right, we have enough to build a number of stories on it over the next few years and won’t be surprised as things happen.”

“Quite right. Carol, we’ve already done our due diligence and I can honestly say that for you have certainly made your mark. We can promote you with your history on the BBC, as well as your DJ work on FM. Will you join us?”

“I would like that, sir. It will give me an interest as my daughter grows into a teenager. I could always tell her that I could expose her bad habits on TV.”

“I doubt that it would slow her down. You’ll be working through our office in the Illawarra. Keep on top of the Albatross story, as I think that you’ll be the one to break it. Hugo will take you down to HR. You’ll be employed from today, and you’ll need to introduce yourself to the Illawarra crew. We’ll tell them that you’re coming. Say, Thursday?”

I hailed a taxi outside the Ultimo Headquarters, after a hug on the pavement from Emily. I was flying back to Nowra as the ABC reporter for the Southern NSW district, from Wollongong to the border. I had my official identification and a handbook that I was supposed to read before Thursday when I was heading to Wollongong to meet my colleagues there.

I already knew the contractor who did the vision in my area, as he was a member of the car club. When I thought about it, I knew that Joy was right when she said that I was a natural fit. I told her so before I went to my car at the terminal. I guessed that the word would be out before I got home.

Marianne Gregory © 2026