Danny laughed, moving close to Souki, as if he was going to tell her a secret.
‘So maybe you’n me’ll have to cut some more,’ he said. ‘One dark night when no one’s watchin’. As there’s a bit of canvas down the loft the old man paid for before I went away. And listen ’ere, lambchop, when ya go to school tomorrer you gotta stop swearin’ or they’ll bloody shoot yer.’ Danny turned unsteadily, Farren guessing he was half-drunk, at least. ‘An’ I’m real sorry about your old man, Robbie. I forgot he’s missin’. Here. Have a drink. To soldiers ’n’ sailors ’n’ fishermen ’n’ whalers.’
Robbie took the bottle. ‘Yeah, thanks, Danny. No worries. No, you’re right as rain.’
‘My grey granpa was a whaler,’ Souki said. ‘He come from ’Merica an’ me grey gran was one of them blackfellers the gub’mint sent over from Tassie. An’ if anybody at this school tomorrer reckons anythin’ crook about me, o’ll freggin’ – o’ll whack ’em.’ Souki leant her elbow into Danny’s side. ‘Why do I ’ave ter go anyway, Danny? Who ya gunna talk to all day?’
‘The bleedin’ rabbit.’ Danny held out his cigarette tin to Souki. ‘Get us a smoke out, will ya, mate?’ Souki did as she was asked while Danny hunted out a match. ‘Right. Ta. Now.’ He lit up and took a steadying drag. ‘You ’ave to go to school, Souk, because nobody knows everythin’, and if they think they do, then they need to go more’n anybody. And I should go, too, but I need to think about winnin’ us this boat race for the sake of the old man, orright?’
‘Yeah, well, I s’pose.’ Souki wiped her nose with her sleeve. ‘But you gotta chuck them old sails. Otherwise youse fellers’ll get flogged. And we’ll ’ave ta scrape the bottom of ’er because she’s been moored for months. Any bloody nong c’n see that.’
With the Camille safely moored, Souki led Robbie and Farren and an increasingly unsteady Danny, up the track to the house.
‘I told yers I weren’t scared.’ Souki spun her beanie on a finger. ‘Din’ I? Eh?’
‘You did,’ Robbie agreed. ‘And you know what? I think you might like going to school for a while. I go to the same one. It’s a bit of fun sometimes.’
Souki scowled. ‘Well, o’m not sittin’ wiv no little kids.’ She whipped her pointing finger out from under her beanie. ‘Nah-bloody-ah. Or o’ll be off home double quick smart. Just like this.’ And she took off for the house.
The boys watched her go, running like a rabbit for its burrow, Farren seeing that someone stood at the back step waiting. It was Charlotte, he thought.
‘Eh!’ Souki spun around on the track like a sheepdog awaiting orders. ‘There’s someone at the ’ouse! An’ she looks a bit freggin’ mean! I’m gunna go’n see what she wants!’ And again Souki charged off.
Danny, gently swaying, watched her run.
‘A good kid, that,’ he said, and drank, a procession of bubbles racing up the bottle. ‘Real good. Cheers.’
Anger pushed and pulled at Farren until he couldn’t hold back.
‘You shouldn’t be drinkin’ so much, Danny. All that rum. It rots yer guts. And that smokin’ all the time. Mum and dad’d go through ya.’
‘It ain’t rum.’ Danny showed Farren the almost empty bottle. ‘It’s brandy. I run outta rum.’ He grinned at Farren, but not for long and not too brightly before he looked away. ‘Yeah, well, I know what yer sayin’ there, Professor Fox Hound. But let’s just call it temporary measures, eh? And leave it at that.’
FORTY
Farren made tea as Souki and Charlotte looked at each other with some trepidation, Souki holding tightly onto the opened parcel of clothes that Charlotte had bought.
‘I never ’ad new cloves before.’ Souki picked up the plain brown dress and white cardigan and sniffed deeply. ‘I c’n even smell ’em they’re so new. Like flowers.’ She looked up. ‘Thanks, Charlotte. I’ll keep ’em forever an’ only wear ’em special.’
‘You won’t.’ Charlotte stood briskly and took two full mugs from Robbie. ‘You’ll wear them to school. And if you need more, you shall ’ave them, though not so new maybe, but more. So that’s that. And put ’em down while you ’ave your cuppa tea, that’d be a good idea.’
Souki did what she was told and took her tea in two hands.
‘C’n I take ’em home when I go? Or d’yer wan ’em back? Like, som’un else might need ’em one day if their boat sinks out the front, mightn’t they?’
‘That’s not very likely,’ Charlotte said primly. ‘You keep them. Of course you do. And my name’s Shar-lotte. Like with an ‘s’.’ Charlotte sat stiffly, her little finger sticking out awkwardly from the mug’s thick handle. ‘They’re a present and nothin’ else.’
Danny came to life, blinking like a waking lizard. He accepted a mug of tea.
‘Ta, Robbie. Cheers.’ He sat up, trying out his broken grin. ‘And Charlotte, if I could ask yer one more favour, I might.’
Charlotte sipped demurely, her hand under the mug like a saucer.
‘Yes, you may, Danny.’ She looked at him warily. ‘But I am an extremely busy person, what with work an’ family an’ that, as youse might know.’
‘Yeah, I do know.’ Danny’s good hand went off in search of his cigarettes. ‘I was just wonderin’ if yer could take Souki to school tomorrer? Just like meet ’er over the bridge and walk ’er up, eh? Just for her first day. Because it’s probably better if you did it than us.’
Farren had figured he was going to do this. He’d been looking forward to it in a way; to show that he was pretty much grown-up, to show how he and Danny had looked after Souki, and to remind everyone in town that it was Danny Fox who’d saved her.
‘But Danny,’ he said, ‘I thought I was –’
Danny cut him off.
‘I asked Charlotte, orright?’
Farren shut his mouth, figuring Danny had his reasons.
‘Ah, yes, Danny, that would be fine.’ Charlotte sipped tea. ‘I’m sure Maggie’ll gimme twenny minutes off and Farren will cover my absence when I’m gone. Afterall, a child’s gotta get off on the right foot. But you and Farren must make sure she’s dressed clean and presentable and ’as her lunch.’
‘I c’n dress meself.’ Souki said. ‘An’ nobody’s touchin’ me hair but me. And I’m clean enough. I’m always bloody clean.’
‘Yessir, Souk!’ Danny saluted with an unlit cigarette. ‘I promise neither me nor Farren will offer to plait yer hair.’
‘Good.’ Souki subsided into her chair like a bird into its nest. ‘An’ I don’ wear no ribbons nor socks nor ’airpins nor hairbans,’ she added. ‘Eiver. Ever.’
‘I’m sure as long as you wear shoes it’ll be fine.’ Charlotte stood. ‘Now, I must be going. I’ve a list as long as yer arm at ’ome to get through before I c’n put me feet up.’
‘Farren and Robbie’ll walk yer home over the bridge,’ Danny offered. ‘And thanks for everythin’, Charlotte. You’re a trooper and a champion. And if yer were an ’orse, I’d run yer in the Cup, and back yer for a thousand.’
Souki twisted up and around like a puppet, to grip the back of the chair, her pale hair flying.
‘I wouldn’t! She looks slower than an old wet week! Don’t ya, Charlotte? And anyway, I’ll see yer demorrer!’ Souki sat down, laughing joyfully at her dirty bare feet. ‘An’ don’ be freggin’ late!’
FORTY-ONE
Darkness and a low creeping mist beat Farren home from work. Turning the door handle he found that it was locked.
‘Eh, open up!’ He stepped back. ‘Eh! C’mon, Danny. Lemme in.’ He rattled the handle. ‘Open up!’
‘Is that you, Farren?’ Souki’s voice, from close behind the door, was not much louder than a whisper.
Fear sliced Farren’s stomach. The house was never locked. Not ever. Quickly he looked around the yard, but could see only the looming shape of the woodshed, the clothesline, and the indistinct boundary of surrounding scrub.
‘Yeah, it’s me, Souk.’ Farren spoke close to the timber. ‘Come on, lem
me in. What’s goin’ on? Why’s this locked?’
Farren heard the key grind and the door opened. He stepped inside, Souki shutting and locking the door fast behind him. Across the room he saw Danny in his chair holding a bloody towel to his face.
‘Jesus, what happened?’ Farren staggered as if he’d done a knee. ‘What happened, Danny?’
‘I’d just got home from school and some blokes come’n belted him up.’ Souki’s face was white, her eyes wide. ‘Two onter one. So I went and got the gun, but before I could freggin’ shoot ’em they took off.’ Farren saw the rifle on the table. ‘An if they ever come back, I’ll bloody nail ’em right between the eyes.’
Danny dabbed slowly and methodically with the towel. Farren saw that his eyes, almost swollen shut, were bruised black and purple and his cheeks, forehead, and eyebrows were scored with deep, dark cuts. Dreamily Farren moved towards him, not really believing what he was seeing.
‘A couple’a bad-mannered visitors, is all.’ Danny dabbed gently. ‘I’ve ’ad worse. Nothin’ an old soldier’ll have any trouble dealin’ with. Still, lucky Souk was ’ere.’ He looked at her. ‘Just a pity a couple of the boys from the old battalion weren’t around to help us out. They would’a sent those two lightweights home with their bones in a bag for reassemblement.’
Farren felt the numbing effects of shock and something more pitiful than grief.
‘But bloody why?’ Suddenly he knew. ‘It was them coins they was after, wasn’t it, Dan?’ He thought back to his run-in with Joe Clouty and the men in the bar. ‘I bet I know who done this.’ He spoke in a torrent. ‘Was one a great big feller and the other a kind of a little skinny bloke? One with black hair and the other –’
Danny moved the towel thoughtfully to his other cheek.
‘I dunno who they were, mate. Not bloody locals, though. Because they smelt like flowers and wore bloody gloves. Pig skin. I could smell it.’ He looked directly at Farren. ‘And since I couldn’t remember where I found those thingos, I couldn’t tell ’em where they were, could I? So they got nothin’. Apart from nearly shot.’
‘I shot over ’em,’ Souki said. ‘When they was goin’ across the inlet. I could’a shot at ’em but Danny said not to. So I didn’t.’
‘Across the –?’ Farren was surprised; that seemed like it’d be a dead-end. ‘They left by boat? Which way?’
‘Up the back.’ Danny wiped blood off his split lip. ‘They must’a had someone over on the other side with a car or somethin’. Probably back in bloody Melbourne by now. Mongrels. Bloody dogs.’
‘I’m gettin’ the coppers.’ Farren turned for the door. ‘What if they come back? We can’t ’ave Souki here if that ’appens, can we? I’m gunna go get Dicky Decker.’
Danny coughed, holding his elbows tight into his sides as if his ribs were cracked.
‘Yeah, orright.’ He wiped more blood from his mouth. ‘But don’t mention the rifle.’
‘Right.’ Farren was glad Danny had agreed to the police being told. ‘C’mon, Souk. We’ll go see the coppers and maybe you c’n stay at Maggie’s or something.’
‘I might limp down to the bridge with yers,’ Danny added. ‘Just in case I see somethin’ I might like to pot for dinner.’ Danny put his hand out. ‘Give us a hand up, Farren. I’m not as crook as I look. And toss us the rifle, there’s a good chap. But be careful, she’s loaded.’
As Farren and Souki arrived at the police house, Constable Decker, as tall as the door he’d closed, came down the path buttoning his tunic, cap tucked under his arm.
‘Gidday there, Farren Fox.’ He spoke in a friendly rumble. ‘And hello to you, miss.’ He nodded to Souki. ‘What’s up? Because I gotta get out to an accident on the Geelong road pretty quick smart. Evidently a motor car full of city jokers ’ave put themselves under the evening train, and she’s all a bit of a mess.’
Farren couldn’t help but wonder if some kind of crude natural justice hadn’t already caught up with the blokes who’d belted Danny. Maybe it was them that got ploughed by the train? He hoped so. Unsteadily he told Constable Decker what had happened out on the island.
‘But since he couldn’t remember where he found ’em, these coins,’ Farren finished with, ‘because his memory’s not that good, they smashed him up. So maybe it was them blokes that got hit?’
‘I hope so.’ Souki stared defiantly at the big, young policeman. ‘They got stuck inter him somethin’ shockin’. I hope they’re as dead as bloody doornails and as flat as pancakes.’
Farren touched her shoulder, to calm her.
‘Souki said she saw these two fellers get away across the inlet by boat,’ he added. ‘Danny reckoned they had a car waitin’ over the other side on one of the tracks.’
‘The bloke rowin’,’ Souki added, ‘he must’a been waitin’ for ’em. An’ they left a couple a shovels on the beach, which I got.’
Thoughtfully Constable Decker straightened his coat with big-knuckled hands.
‘That’s interestin’,’ he said, as if ‘interesting’ was a word for police use only. ‘And you saw all these, er, goings-on, Souki?’
‘Yes-I-bloody-did.’ Souki was like a wind-up toy let go. ‘An’ I didn’t like it one liddle freggin’ bit!’
‘No, I’m sure you didn’t.’ Constable Decker shuffled. ‘But I’ll wander out to this accident now and then things might look a little clearer. And I’ll come out to the island tomorrer morning if I don’t get a chance tonight, all right?’
‘I gotta go to school tomorrer,’ Souki said bluntly. ‘So I won’t be ’ome. And Charlotte said I’d ged in strife if I’m late.’
Farren saw Constable Decker smile at Souki, as everybody did, sooner or later, for one reason or another.
‘That’s all right, Souki. We’ll get this sorted out. And if you two want a lift down to the bridge, and we can get my motor car started, I’d better be off.’
‘Oh!’ Souki was so surprised she took a backward step. ‘Yeah? Us? I never been in a motor car. C’mon, Farren, let’s go!’
Souki was in bed, Farren and Danny sitting tiredly by the stove. The door was locked, the rifle was on the table and outside, at Danny’s suggestion, Farren had set a few rabbit traps.
‘It just don’t sound like the sort of thing Joe Clouty’d bloody do,’ Danny said, holding out a slice of bread on a toasting fork to the firebox. ‘Still. I’ll go over the bridge in the mornin’ and ask him. Here. Turn that around, will ya, mate. Me old arm’s not up to it.’
Farren turned the bread. He didn’t know whether he should be pleased or worried that Danny had said he would go over the bridge.
‘God strike me.’ Danny, hunched low, held the toasting fork out like a fishing rod. ‘Don’t it seem that any time a bloke just wants a quiet old life, he finds that he’s gotta go and attend to duty? Even if he doesn’t freggin’ want to.’ Danny grinned through cut lips. ‘It never stops.’
‘I’ll go and see Joe for yer.’ Fear weighted Farren’s words. ‘You stay ’ere.’
‘Nah, yer won’t.’ Danny checked his toast. ‘It’s Danny-boy’s job. I’ll get the old shyster to buy me a beer.’ He offered the toast to Farren. ‘Yer want this? I’m too tired to eat it.’
Without warning tears blasted from Farren’s eyes and great wrenching sobs forced him to cover his eyes. He almost fell onto the floor.
‘Ah, Jesus, Danny!’ He spoke into his grimy, hot fingers. ‘Those dirty bastards. What’d they have to do that to yer for? God, you been through enough already. By Christ I’ll fuckin’ kill ’em if they ever come back.’
‘Hey, mate.’ Danny managed to reach across and put a hand on Farren’s knee. ‘It’s all right.’ His voice was low and soothing. ‘Plenty copped worse than me, sport. Plenty. And they’re all in the cold, old ground sleepin’. But hey, I’m ’ere and we’re doin’ orright. Life’s sweet, mate.’ He laughed. ‘At least, the next ’alf comin’ might be.’
‘What’s wrong, Farren?’ Souki appeared in the doorway of her
room. ‘Why yer cryin’? What’s ’appened now?’
‘Nothin’s ’appened, sport.’ Danny spoke quietly, his eyes glimmering under swollen lids. ‘Me an’ Farren are just havin’ a bit of a talk. You go back to bed. I promise yer everythin’s as good as gold and’ll be even better in the mornin’.’
Souki looked around, spotting the rifle.
‘Then why’s that still out?’
Farren got up, wiping his face with a sleeve.
‘It’s goin’ away.’ He picked it up, and facing the door, began to unload it. ‘Everythin’s orright, Souk.’
Souki watched him. ‘I’m hungry,’ she said slowly, as if it was something she’d been dreaming about. ‘Let’s ’ave them freggin’ sardines and bread the fishing blokes left on the step. I like sardines. Even if they do freggin’ stink.’
Danny slapped his leg, knocking his cigarette tin onto the floor with a sound like a cymbal.
‘My oath, mate! Let’s have sardines. And then –’ he wagged a finger at Souki, ‘it’ll be everyone inter bed because tomorrow’s gunna be a brand new day and you’re off ter school.’
‘That motor car was good.’ Souki was now wide awake. ‘That horn’s like a cow. It made me laugh. I wish me mum’d bin ’ere to see me.’ And then, just as Farren was finished with crying Souki started, her hands to her face as if they were stuck there.
Danny took a deep breath. ‘Eh, come over ’ere, little pal.’ He put his good arm out like a harbour for a small boat to sail into, which Souki did, as if blown there by a gust. ‘You’ll be right. We’ll get yer home soon and everythin’ll be fine. You just listen to your good-old uncle Danny-boy. He knows what’s what.’
FORTY-TWO
Souki was sitting at the parlour table when Farren got home. She was writing laboriously in a new exercise book, her hand bunched around a thick blue pencil.
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