Dark Fires Shall Burn (30 page)

‘Mrs Reed has gone off with Mr Langby?'

‘Well, no. Not
with
him. Surely not.'

The boys on the street pass the words
killed
,
murdered
,
ravished, strangled
between them like trading cards. She wants to punch them all in their gibbering mouths.

Nancy starts returning to Lennox Street, standing opposite the house where the girl who broke the record player had said the name to her — Jack Tooth — as if being there would conjure him by osmosis. What had they been playing before it smashed? ‘My Bonnie Lies Over the Ocean'. But there is no longer any music. The house is no longer lit and lively, now boarded up and silent. The shuttered windows look like a giant's sleeping eyes. She waits there in the evenings whenever she can sneak away, idling near the paling-fenced edge of the cemetery, until the light has all but evaporated. She watches all the men who pass by for the one called Jack Tooth, squinting at their faces, obscured by hat brims and shadow.

TWENTY-EIGHT

Two nights later, Templeton enters a club on Oxford Street in Woollahra. It is warm enough inside for most of the men to have peeled off to their shirtsleeves. There are only a couple of women in the place.

The show is just starting when his drink arrives. It's the second time he's been here, and the act is as boisterous as last night. The bouncing line girls are introduced by a droll emcee with pencilled-on eyebrows. The ‘girls' are men in dresses, Templeton had realised that first night after an embarrassing long while, and wasn't sure what to think. Tonight, recovered from the shock, he loves it.

Once the set is over, he begins to work the room. There is a small park down a side street that Templeton has come to know well from bringing men down there for sweaty tugs and sucks. He is getting better at it, anticipating what they want and giving it to them. He sips his Scotch with a little delicious shiver. He is buying for himself tonight, enjoying the heft of the money in his pocket and the freedom it purchases.

Last night he was making money hand over fist. Today he bought a smart, single-breasted suit in dove-grey, a blue shirt and a brown silk tie from Mark Foy's. He's also wearing an old trilby of Bob's that matches the suit. His hair is already evening out a little more, and Nellie tidied it for him earlier tonight. ‘Looking good, kid.' Tipper had slapped him on the back and wolf-whistled as he stepped out.

He wonders what his mother would think to see him dressed so fine: she'd be proud as Punch, probably.

Close to eleven, Dot comes to join him for a drink. It's time to stop: he doesn't want Dot to see what he's up to here, although he knows she'd have pretty much worked it out.

After they down a couple, Templeton stretches out his hand to help her up from her chair. ‘I can walk by myself,' she says, swatting him away, but she sways tipsily on her feet like a foal. Once they are out of the club and braced against the night, he slips his arm through hers and leans in to take some of her weight. It is a long walk down Oxford Street to Palmer, and she forces him to stop every five minutes, or so it seems, so she can light another cigarette as she negotiates her bag and matches. He offers her one from his new monogrammed case.

‘You're turning into a good little earner. Just like your sister. Must be a Luckett trait,' she says, and he hears the bitterness in her words, but he knows it's not directed at him.

As they hit Taylor Square, they hear the sound of women shouting. Templeton keeps his head down as they cross to the other side of the street, determined that it is not his affair. He can see one woman hitting another over the head and shoulders, really pummelling her, the other weakly slapping back but mostly just protecting her face, her hands in a boxer's crouch.

‘Roberta?' Dot halts, drawing herself up. He hadn't thought she was capable of noticing much with the state she was in. But now she seems steely-eyed and sober.

‘Dot! Oh, thank God it's you.' Roberta tilts her head towards them and gets walloped on the shoulder while her guard is down. ‘For Christ's sake, get this bitch off me.'

Templeton darts over and pulls the woman away. She's kicking and screaming, trying to land a punch on him, but she barely weighs a hundred pounds and he pins her arms behind her back. ‘Christ!' he curses as one arm escapes and her fingernails drag the side of his face, but he forces her arm down again. Dot steps up and clocks the woman hard in the mouth.

‘Fuck you!' the woman shrieks, spraying blood and spittle and most likely chipped tooth all over them.

‘Dot, don't. I've got her,' Templeton says, but Dot slaps her across the cheek anyway. ‘
Stop
it! I said I've got her.'

‘Are you going to keep still?' Dot asks. The woman nods and stops thrashing. He loosens his arms so she can nurse her smashed mouth.

‘Bitch!' she hisses at Roberta. ‘This is my spot.'

‘I wasn't! I was waiting for someone, that's all.' Roberta's face and arms are brindled with red marks, visible in the streetlamp.

‘Well, wait somewhere else next time.' The woman shoots a filthy look at the three of them. Templeton releases her and she gives them the finger, struggling off to lick her wounds.

Dot and Roberta stare at one another without speaking, and Templeton breaks the awkward silence. ‘What were you doing in the dark in Taylor Square at one o'clock in the morning, you daft pinhead?' He gives her a hug. Roberta starts to cry. He releases her and looks pleadingly at Dot.

‘Come with us. We will sit you down and give you something for your nerves.' Dot takes her hand. Roberta sags against her, clearly exhausted, and Dot lets her sob against her chest. ‘Come on now, it is alright. You are alright.' She strokes her hair.

They lead her back to Tipper's. The upstairs is dark, and no one stirs when they light the lamps. Dot pours her a large tumbler of gin. Roberta holds it with shaking hands.

‘Oh, I'm so glad to see you both. It's been horrible at Dolly's since you left. I should have gone with you. I was a dumb bitch.'

‘Tell us what's happened,' Dot says in a soothing tone.

‘I don't know where to begin.' She swallows a large gulp of gin. ‘Well, since she threw you out, everything changed. First Lorraine started lording it over us all. It didn't bother Sally much, she mostly left her alone, but she was mean as a cut snake to Annie and me. Said I was unnatural, that she knew what I was and that I was going to hell.'

‘Lorraine, that little pustule.'

Roberta smiles. ‘Then Dolly found out she was rooting Snowy. Or sniffed it out. Who knows?'

‘Lorraine is dead meat!' Templeton says, smiling at the prospect.

‘It was crazy. Me and Annie, we come home, and Dolly has Lorraine by the hair, face against the wall, beating the living shit outta her,' Roberta says, livening to her tale. ‘She's yelling and hollering her head off, about to bring the whole place down. Then Snowy comes barging in and gets between them. Tells Lorraine to run for it, and she's off like a shot. Then he rounds on Dolly! Punches out her false teeth and everything. Tore off her wig.'

‘Oh Jesus,' Templeton exclaims.

‘I never saw it before, but I'm told once in a blue moon Snowy gets on the piss and has a real go at her. They've even locked him up for it. He almost killed her back in '36 apparently.'

‘How bad was it this time?' Dot asks.

‘Not as bad as it could've been. Errol gets in there to try and break it up and he pulls Snowy off her 'cause, you know, he's snapped. He looks like he's gonna kill her this time. Next thing Dolly jumps up, grabs the poker next to the fireplace and hammers Snowy over the head with it.
Whack!
Hit him so hard you could've heard it outside. He goes down like a stone, just like in a movie.'

‘No!' Templeton puts down his gin.

‘Yes. Then Errol starts ranting:
you crazy bitch
this
, you crazy bitch
that
.
And Dolly waves the poker at him and says, “You want some of this? Be my guest. Get out of my house. Take your useless sonovabitch mate and get out of here. Out! Get out!” And that's when the coppers show up and handcuff both of them.'

‘Shit,' says Dot. ‘Well, good on her.'

‘So Dolly's cursing and spitting in their faces like a jungle cat. They have to take Snowy to the hospital; he's out cold with a probable concussion. They say the whole thing's going to court for domestic assault. They won't even let Dolly out on bail this time. She's in jail. They say she has to sit and sweat and wait for the trial. She's hopping mad, I can tell you. She's tried just about everything to bribe her way out of there. Told Annie to use all the cash in the strongbox.'

‘But surely they can see that Snowy was beating on her?' Templeton asks.

‘Yeah, but you know the coppers won't come between a man and his wife. And it don't look good with Snowy lying out cold on the floor, does it? Dolly's a big woman who can defend herself. Not the first time they've both been done for domestic dispute, neither.'

‘That is ridiculous! After he knocked her half to death,' Dot mutters.

‘But the real news is that just after the coppers take them, who walks in this morning but Jack Tooth.'

‘What?' Dot and Templeton exclaim at the same time.

‘Cleans Annie out for every penny she's got and then disappears again.'

‘That sack of ratshit,' Dot says. ‘Were two others with him? Will and Frank? One is a big tall bugger, the other is smaller and mean-looking.'

Roberta shakes her head. ‘No, it was just Jack. And he was real skinny like. Frankly, I don't know what you're all so afraid of.'

‘You don't want to cross him, trust me.' Templeton involuntarily touches his scalp, rubbing a knuckle over it.

‘Did he say anything about where he was staying?'

‘Nope. All he did was come in, spouting, “Where's my girl? Did you miss me?” and other horseshit to Annie and then leant on her for money. Told her he'd find you, Lucky, and break your legs if she didn't give him everything she had. Asked how you liked your haircut.'

‘I'll kill him,' Dot breathes. Roberta's face twists and suddenly she is crying again. ‘Oh, hush, honey.' Dot leans over and gives her a hug. ‘It's alright. No one can hurt you here. You stick with us. In the morning we will go find Annie and bring her here too. Tipper will take care of us.'

‘This is Elsie Tipper's place?' Roberta sniffles and looks about her as if taking in her surroundings for the first time.

Templeton nods. He taps three cigarettes out of his packet and lights them off one match.

‘Does Nellie Flanagan live here too?'

‘Yes. Nellie's upstairs right now. Why?'

‘Because Errol's gunning for her, that's why. Been telling everyone she ripped him off. Said she gingered his wallet right out of his pocket while they were … you know.'

Templeton is surprised. He didn't realise Nellie and Errol had done any more than flirt.

‘Don't you worry about that — Nellie can take care of herself.' Dot strokes Roberta's hair.

Roberta goes quiet, and then says, ‘But that's not all. I need help. I'm in trouble, Dot.'

‘What is it?'

‘That's why I was out tonight. There's meant to be a place on Stanley Street that — that helps girls like me. I can't wait too much longer.'

‘We will help you. Do not cry, honey. Do not cry anymore.' Dot wipes Roberta's wet cheeks with her fingers.

‘It would take me at least a month to make that kind of money. And I don't have that kind of time.' She places a palm on her belly. ‘Otherwise it's too risky. I've done everything I know. Everything that's worked before, vinegar and cold water, the Lifebuoy on a sponge; nothing's taken.'

‘I know a man,' Dot says, holding Roberta's face up in her hands. ‘We'll take care of it.'

Templeton takes all the money from his pockets — scarcely over three pounds after tonight's drinks — and puts it all on the table in front of them. ‘I've got another sixpence in my stash upstairs,' he says.

‘That's sweet of you, Lucky,' Dot says. ‘You're a good boy.'

‘That's all I got. Not much, is it? How much do you have? You going to ask Tipper for it?'

‘Oh, no,' Roberta interrupts. ‘Please don't. Dolly would be furious.'

‘I can cover it,' Dot says, waving her hand mysteriously.

‘How?' He runs a sweaty palm over his hair.

She goes to the bureau and opens it, pulling out a china sugar bowl. She takes the lid off and withdraws a wad of bills.

Templeton whistles. ‘Where'd you get that? You stumble on a gold mine or something?' Dot shakes her head. ‘What then? Horses? I didn't think you fluttered. Robbing johns? Shit, Dot. That's four to seven years inside. You can't go to jail, what would I do? Tell me where you got it!'