“My desire to lay eyes on the mongrel bastard Stammer Jack was dampened. I had nothing of any promise to report to Chloe in the matter of organizing a meeting between the great modernist and Nobel Prize winner, Michael Bickham, and herself. Even though someone had once given me Bickham’s number, I hadn’t wanted to call him directly and perhaps delay his work. So I called a young poet I knew to be his friend and asked him would he kindly call Bickham’s place and give my number to Khalil, Bickham’...s companion and – as some would say – housekeeper. Nearly half a century before, Khalil had been a pleasant Levantine agent of British Intelligence whom the young Lieutenant Bickham of the Second AIF had met when the Australians captured Syria from the Vichy French in 1941. The gossip about their present domestic arrangements was that Bickham was a bit of a house devil and that Khalil was gentle and genial. Khalil did call me at last. I told him that there was a woman from the Northern Territory who was desperate to discuss motherhood with the great writer.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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