New to Thieves? Start at Chapter One
The South Island roared off across the ocean, while the Kiwis watched from Bondi Beach. The white swell from the outboard motor lapped across their ankles.
‘They’re getting away!’ shouted Shirelle.
‘Don’t worry,’ said the Chief Kiwi. ‘We’ll have this sorted lickety-split.’ And she clapped her hands together to call the Kiwis’ attention.
Four million bright Kiwi eyes turned to the Chief.
‘First, Shirelle, you’re going to go to Melbourne and make me a flat white.’
Shirelle looked at her strangely.
‘It’s part of the plan. You can try their electric milk frother and everything.’
Shirelle beamed with excitement.
‘Second, has anyone seen Grandpa Kiwi?’ The Chief Kiwi looked around.
The Kiwis all shrugged and shook their heads.
'I do believe we left him napping in the Northland,’ said Old Granny K. ‘He hates to be disturbed after lunch on a Sunday, unless the rugby’s on. And the Northland’s just so cozy!’
‘Brilliant,’ said the Chief Kiwi. ‘Shirelle, once you’ve made the coffee, go find the Aussies’ phone. Ring Grandpa. Mind you reverse the charges, though. And speak up, his ears aren’t so good. Tell him to bring Stewart Island over and pick us up. He’ll need to get the spare child seats out of the loft too, ours were all on the South Island when the Aussies stole it.’
Shirelle ran off, happy to be of help.
‘Don’t forget – reverse charges!’ called the Chief Kiwi. ‘I don’t want it said that Kiwis don’t pay their bills.’
Hemi and Stu, two teenage Kiwis, were listening at the back with their arms folded.
‘Chief Kiwi! Excuse me, Chief?’
‘What is it, Hemi?’
‘Are we just giving up on the South Island, then? Just going to report it to the cops and drive around in crappy hatchback Stewart Island for the next month?’
The Chief Kiwi raised her eyebrow at ‘crappy’.
Hemi looked at his feet. ‘Excuse the language, Chief Kiwi.’
‘Thank you for your courtesy, Hemi. In answer to your question, no, we are not just going to give up. We are Kiwis. Ingenious, hardworking, kind and tolerant. Everything that Australians are not. You are going to have a look in the Aussie junk room and see if you can use your native ingenuity to rustle up a South Island catcher. Do you think you and Stu can manage that?’
‘Sure thing, ma’am!’
The boys ran off to Sydney to check the Aussie cupboards.
Just then, Shirelle came back with a fresh cup of coffee.
'Here’s your flat white, Chief Kiwi,’ she said proudly. ‘I even did a silver fern in the foam using the Aussie milk frother.’
‘Well done, little Kiwi,’ said the Chief. ‘Go call Grandpa.’ She looked around Bondi Beach with the steaming cup in her hand. ‘Now - where’s Granny K?’
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