The coup

“I broke into a house once”, I casually said while watching the old man and a robot break into a house in the film Robot and Frank.

“What?” he said. “When?” he said as if going through the list of ‘wh’ questions.

“The night Whitlam got kicked out in 1975.”

Gough Whitlam, the Australian Prime Minister was removed from power on November 11, 1975 when the Senate with a majority of the opposing party, blocked supply bills three times to force the government to have a double dissolution.  This basically meant that Australia went to the polls and then voted out our most progressive government in many years. We were all very angry.

“Wow!”, that must have been exciting.”

“It was, and a turn on too,”

“You’re incorrigible – you old sex bomb. Did you take anything?

“Yeah we took a painting”

“Great , where is that painting now.”

“We threw it out threw window.”

“Oh no”.

The 11th of November 1975 and the left in Australia was very, very angry. It was a hot night and election parties were happening all over Brisbane. Strangely enough I was at a party of the only conservative party supporter I knew. He was rich!

I was young, full of energy and was out with a cute English guy who was an actor and also full of mischief. One could hardly call him a boyfriend and he was more than just a fuck. We didn’t have boyfriends in those days we just hooked up with people for a while. After all it was the seventies.

“Let’s do something ‘” he said when we heard the news that our hero was gone – had been kicked out of his rightful place as leader of the country – had in fact been VOTED out by Astralians.

“OK” I said. I was up for anything.

We drove around for a while and came to a beautiful old Georgian style house lit up like a Christmas tree.

“Let’s break into the house.”

“OK” was my incredulous response. I parked the car in a dark side street and we started to climb the wire fence. I fully expected to hear some dogs as it dawned on me whilst astride the fence that we were breaking into Government House. Yes that’s right the residence of the Governor of Queensland. OK it was an anachronism from the old British Empire days and deserved to be mocked but what was I doing.

For some reason the regulatory part of my brain was not functioning and I kept going.

We slowly walked up to the entrance of the house, hand in hand like Hansel and Gretel. The house was ablaze with light. We walked through the front door – no-one. Then we slowly walked along a corridor. I thought the residents could hear the pounding of my heart and would come running with the police. Still no-one. There was a radio in the background somewhere talking , of course about the night’s events.  We came to a bedroom and we gingerly went in to find the bedcovers neatly turned down but still no-one. That’s where we took our souvenir, from the bedroom wall. Then we bolted for the exit, virtually flew over the fence and out of breath ran back to the car laughing and relishing in our bravado.

I realized that crime was a buzz and a turn on. All I wanted to do was to have sex with my accomplice.

We looked at each other and fell into a hungry kiss, climbed into the back seat , tore off our clothes and fucked outside Government House on the night of the coup.



Day job: a small consultancy delivering customised pronunciation training for professionals who work in English as their second or third language. Wanna be job: A creative person who writes, takes photos and lives
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