by Kaye Dobbie
Eventually she took a deep breath, pushed aside her own weariness, and carried the mugs back to the bedroom.
Kitty sat with her tea tightly clasped in her hands, as if she needed its comfort and warmth. Despite her effort to appear tough, Faith thought she looked very young.
‘Those women I saw in the Penthouse … Do you pay them to be there? I mean they’re not guests, are they.’
Kitty’s lip curled, but she couldn’t quite pull off her usual show of contempt at her cousin’s ignorance. ‘They’re professionals. Jared sends me out to … I mean, I go and find them, and pay them. None of them refuse. It’s good money, easy money compared to what they usually do. And they get fed and then there’s the booze.’ She closed her mouth, probably not wanting to mention the drugs Faith was already well aware of.
Faith supposed it was easy money. Was that what had tempted Melanie to the Angel, and put an end to her life? Kitty had known the name, but did she know what had happened to the girl? She had been a police informant, so that may have been the real reason for her death.
She took a breath and plunged in.
‘When you took me to meet Jared the first time … he thought I looked like someone else. Some other girl. Do you remember that?’
Kitty gave her a look that was a mixture of disdain and alarm. ‘There have been a lot of other girls. Maybe he thought you looked like me.’
‘Maybe. Gaz said something about it, too, and you told him to shut up.’
Kitty’s mouth tightened. ‘I don’t remember,’ she said. ‘Why are you asking, anyway?’
Faith didn’t want to make her suspicious and she didn’t want to have to tell her about Avery. ‘I don’t know. I wondered if it was … important.’
‘Well it isn’t.’
Her refusal to answer was answer enough. Kitty knew about Melanie.
Kitty was watching her. ‘What happened to you after I saw you outside the Penthouse? Was there anyone else with you?’
Faith didn’t even think twice. ‘No. After you told me to go I did. I went down to the Cocktail Lounge and … Ray was there. He took me out with him to the Queens.’
Kitty’s face hardened. ‘Don’t make a fool of yourself with Ray Bartel,’ she said. ‘He only cares about himself. Anyway, Jared has big plans for him. He won’t be around much longer.’
What did she mean? Faith longed to ask, but just then a tear rolled down Kitty’s cheek. She came closer to the bed, wanting to wrap her arms around the other girl but not quite daring.
‘Will you be all right? I mean, the cops could charge you with something, couldn’t they? If they wanted to make an issue of it?’
‘Jared knows people.’ Surreptitiously she wiped her eyes, as if she was ashamed of her emotions. ‘He’ll make sure I’m all right.’
‘What sort of people?’
‘Important people. The sort of people who don’t want their names spread around town and have enough clout to stop it happening.’
It occurred to her that if Avery got his way, then the Angel might not be open for much longer. Her life had taken an exciting turn since she’d started working at the nightclub, and not all of it for good, but at least Ray was there. She didn’t want to lose him, she wanted to spend as much time as possible with him, and if that made her sound as pathetic as Kitty then she told herself she didn’t care.
‘Why do you stay at the Angel?’ she asked suddenly, and it came out blunter than she’d meant it to. ‘I mean … Gaz was right, wasn’t he? It’s risky, what you do.’
Kitty tossed her head. ‘The money’s good.’ She shot Faith a doubtful glance, as if wondering what she was thinking. Faith felt baffled. When had Kitty ever cared about that? ‘People come there for a good time, and Jared makes sure they get one. You know that movie star from America? He said it was the best night of his life.’
Kitty was proud of it, but Faith was remembering the photograph Avery had shown her.
‘Maybe he did have the best night of his life, but these people, the important people you say look after Jared, they don’t really care about us, do they? They don’t care who gets hurt for their entertainment?’
Kitty shrugged a shoulder as if it didn’t bother her. ‘If you mean the women, they know what they’re getting into. They’re not little Miss Innocents like you, Faith.’
Less and less Miss Innocent these days, Faith thought with a grimace, but she let the comment pass.
‘You don’t, uh … do you?’
Kitty gave a soft laugh. ‘I could if I wanted to. I’ve had plenty of offers.’
‘But you haven’t?’
‘Once, only once.’ She wouldn’t meet Faith’s eyes. ‘Jared didn’t like it, even though I did it as a favour for him. He’s never asked me again.’
Upstairs they could hear movement as their housemates began to wake. Kitty must have heard it, too, because she looked at the door. She wouldn’t talk for much longer, and Faith sensed her cousin may never be this vulnerable again.
‘The police wouldn’t be raiding the Angel if there wasn’t something illegal going on,’ she suggested tentatively.
Kitty snorted. ‘Even if there was they couldn’t do anything about it. Jared knows too many people. I told you. Some of his customers run the country.’
Faith’s heart was beating fast. She wanted to ask for a name, even though she’d told herself she wasn’t going to agree to Avery’s request.
Kitty continued, ‘You’d be surprised who they are. Men you look at on television or in the newspaper and think butter wouldn’t melt in their mouths. It’s an eye-opener, Faith.’
Faith had seen a few of the politicians from Spring Street in the Cocktail Lounge. She wasn’t aware they went up to the Penthouse, but of course they must. How naive of her to think they wouldn’t! And then there was the Melbourne snob set, old money, who considered themselves so much better than the rest. Now and again one or two of them would come slumming it at the Angel, and no doubt they’d want the full experience.
Kitty smiled, watching the thoughts flit across her face. ‘Come on, then,’ she said softly. ‘Ask me. You know you want to.’
‘Ask you what?’ Faith hedged. Because suddenly she wasn’t at all sure if it was a good idea to know.
‘One of the names. Come on, Faith. Ask me.’
She hesitated, but Kitty seemed to want to tell her.
‘All right, then. Who?’
‘Bert Dalzell,’ Kitty said quickly. Her smile turned mocking when she saw Faith’s shocked expression. ‘Yes, him. Don’t believe everything you read, little cousin.’
Her comment related to something that had happened a few weeks ago, when Faith was scanning the newspaper over tea and toast. There had been an article in it about the Honourable Hubert Dalzell, Minister for Planning and Development in the Victorian state government. She remembered reading it aloud and telling Kitty in a respectful voice that the Dalzells owned a house outside Golden Gully. Sometimes she saw the Honourable Bert driving past the milk bar with his family or waiting in his car while the youngest ones ran in for a bag of lollies and a milkshake. No doubt it gave them a thrill to come down from their ivory tower and experience something so ordinary.
At the time Kitty had sneered, saying that anyone could play a part, but that didn’t mean it was real. Faith hadn’t thought much more about it. Kitty tended to spoil things for the sake of it, especially if she was in one of her moods. But now she remembered, and she could see from the expression on Kitty’s face that she had remembered too.
‘Do you mean he goes up to the Penthouse?’ Faith whispered. Bert Dalzell was like royalty in Golden Gully and it was unthinkable that he had feet of clay.
‘Of course he does.’ Kitty had crossed her legs and was swinging the top one in an agitated manner. ‘Look, forget I said it, okay? Don’t mention it to anyone.’
‘Certainly not.’
‘I mean it.’ Kitty stared into her eyes.
Faith didn’t like the way Kitty was turn
ing her into an accomplice. These secrets would set her apart from the others, forcing her to watch her every word.
She itched to talk to Ray about it. She’d discovered that being in love meant she wanted to share her every thought and feeling, except now she couldn’t. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust Ray, no, it wasn’t that. It was just that he might let something slip after a long night behind the microphone.
‘I won’t say anything,’ she said at last.
Satisfied, Kitty got wearily to her feet. ‘I’m going for a bath.’
Ray had been away for a week, and Faith hadn’t seen him at work. The other girls were jealous of Ray’s partiality for her, and they enjoyed teasing her.
‘Maybe he’s shacked up with some model,’ one of them speculated. ‘He must know loads of them. I heard he has a girl at the Queens.’
Faith shrugged as if she didn’t care, but the words worried her. It was true, Ray must have slept with plenty of girls, and to him their night together was probably no big deal. Except to her it was a very big deal.
They’d run out of tomato juice in the Cocktail Lounge and as there’d been an order for bloody marys and no one else had offered, Faith said she’d go up to the Mezzanine bar for them. She was standing, waiting, when Ray came right up behind her and wrapped his arms around her.
‘Hey there, lovely,’ he whispered in her ear, ignoring the amused stares of some of the patrons. ‘Missed you.’
‘Where were you?’ she blurted out, and felt her face warming. She wanted to ask him if he’d really missed her, but she stopped herself in time—she didn’t want to sound pathetic.
‘I had to go home for my grandfather’s funeral.’
‘Oh, Ray, I’m sorry—’
‘Didn’t Kitty give you my message?’ He looked surprised.
‘She must have forgotten,’ Faith lied, knowing that Kitty had chosen not to pass it on.
Ray shrugged as if it didn’t really matter. ‘Well, I’m here now,’ he said. His gaze lingered on her lips. ‘Can we meet up later? The boys are going out so we’ll have the place to ourselves.’
Her heart gave a stutter, and she had to remind herself to be cool. Pretend to be Kitty. Only she didn’t want to be like Kitty, not anymore.
‘Ray?’
Jared’s voice interrupted them, and when she and Ray turned, he didn’t look very pleased by what he was seeing.
Reluctantly Ray let her go. ‘See you later,’ he murmured before he turned away.
Surreptitiously, still waiting at the bar, Faith watched the interaction between the two men. Jared was speaking, and although his voice was too low for Faith to hear, she could see by the intense expression on his face that it wasn’t light-hearted banter. Ray’s arms were folded tight across his chest, and he obviously wasn’t happy.
A short time later both men went out through the staff door, and before it swung shut, she saw them climbing the stairs to Jared’s office.
‘Uh-oh,’ the girl behind the bar said as she passed her the tray of drinks. ‘Trouble in paradise.’
Faith laughed as if she didn’t care, but inside she was asking herself if Jared had been warning Ray off her. Had Jared found out about Avery’s chat on the night of the raid? He seemed to know everything—if Kitty was to be believed he had informants everywhere, even in the police force.
When her shift ended, Ray was nowhere to be seen, and she walked home, her hands dug deep into the pockets of her coat, her boots striking the footpath and sending up echoes around the silent street. It was a still night and swathes of mist lay in the hollows. She was nearly home when she heard Ray call out behind her.
He was running towards her and when he reached her, he laughed breathlessly, catching her hand and swinging her around into his arms. She squealed. Then his lips were on hers, warm and tasting of cigarettes and whisky.
‘Will you come for a drink with me?’ he asked, reluctantly breaking off their kiss.
She hesitated. She wanted to, but something made her pause. At the same time, someone up ahead began shouting, and Ray jumped. He turned to stare. When he realised it was just some kids mucking around, he relaxed again and reached into his pocket for cigarettes.
‘Are you all right?’ she asked, feeling a tingle of unease.
‘Yeah, ’course.’ He glanced up at her as he flicked the lighter and she saw that he looked exhausted.
‘I’d better get home,’ she told him. ‘I’m tired. We can go for a drink another night, okay?’
He sighed and then nodded, and taking her hand in his began to walk slowly towards her house.
‘What did Jared say?’
‘Not a lot.’ He frowned, as if he was pissed off about something, and although she wanted to push for an answer it didn’t seem such a good idea.
‘I thought he might have wanted you to work tonight,’ she said instead.
‘Nah. He was still worried about that raid. Wondered if I’d heard anything.’
‘Heard anything?’
He looked at her with his eyes narrowed against the smoke, and she had the uncomfortable impression that he was sizing her up, wondering if he could trust her. Just as she was him.
‘Jared pays people a lot of money to keep the cops away from the Angel. He’s puzzled as to why the raid happened at all.’
‘Oh.’
‘He thought I might have said something to someone, but I told him I hadn’t. I mean, what could I have said that would bring the cops down on him? I thought we were friends … well, we are pals. I suppose my feelings were a bit hurt, if you want to know the truth. I’m wondering if old Jared is losing his touch, and I’m not the only one.’
Faith caught his glance, and then his smile as he leaned in to kiss her cheek. ‘Probably better if you don’t mention this, hey?’
‘No, I won’t.’ She snuggled against him, loving the feel of him and yet her thoughts were elsewhere.
Ray hadn’t even been there when the raid happened, so why would Jared suspect he had anything to do with it? And then she questioned if that was precisely the reason. If Jared was casting around among his friends for the culprit, he might think Ray being away was a clever alibi. But Faith knew it had been Avery who’d organised the raid, because he’d told her so.
Suddenly she didn’t want to go home. She knew she wouldn’t be able to sleep. She looked up at Ray. ‘Can I change my mind about that drink?’
He laughed softly, and perhaps with some relief. Maybe he would have trouble sleeping too.
‘I’d like that,’ he murmured, cupping her face with warm hands and leaning in to kiss her properly. ‘I’d like that very much.’
SAMANTHA
15 January 2000, Willow Tree Bend
I slept well, considering. The emotion of last night, and the day before, must have worn me out. I hadn’t meant to weep in Hope’s arms like that, but she had been nice about it, making sure I was all right, and pouring me another glass of red. After that we’d sat on the verandah in the darkness, with the sky awash with stars, and enjoyed the cooling air after the heat of the day. We didn’t say much, and yet it was … nice.
She did tell me some funny stories about her life in the spotlight, and then one about her fall from grace after her film The Document flopped.
‘Someone began a rumour that I was dead,’ she said in that dry way of hers, which I secretly thought very Australian. ‘I had to appear as a special guest on a couple of sitcoms, just to prove I was still alive. You know the sort of thing, there’s a knock and the door opens and the crowd gasps and there you are.’
Her laugh reminded me so much of my mother it caused a sharp ache inside me. I felt everything welling up again. Where she was, who she was with, and was she ever coming home?
My father didn’t turn up, but then I hadn’t thought he would. I could tell from his voice on the phone that he wasn’t keen to have an intimate family meal. I made excuses for him to Hope, saying he must be feeling tired, and how full on it must be for him, trying to ke
ep tabs on everything without Mum there. But I think we both knew he just didn’t want to talk about what was happening.
Hope had shrugged it off, and then said she was going to see Gran tomorrow and would I drop her there.
‘We can catch up for dinner, what do you think? Maybe Joe will visit tomorrow instead. I’ll invite your grandmother, too.’
‘The more the merrier.’ I’d tried to sound enthusiastic.
‘I’ll cook,’ she’d added, and I saw the gleam of her smile in the starlight. ‘I can shop in town.’
‘I have plenty of carrot cake.’ By then I’d remembered the box Jason Miller had given me. As for the photo I had seen at Dalzell’s house … I didn’t even want to talk about that. Not yet. I was still thinking it over.
The following morning, I dropped off my famous aunt at my grandmother’s unit in the heart of Golden Gully. Lily was in, and I left them to it, turning the ute for home.
Estelle had left a message on my answering machine last night, while I was outside on the verandah bonding with Hope. My friend wasn’t someone who got to the point in a hurry, and as usual she used up several minutes of tape meandering on about the weather and the animals, and asking how Gobble was. I waited patiently until she finally let me know why she was calling.
We need money, Sam. I never realised how expensive all of this was going to be. And people keep giving us animals. It never stops. So, I’ve been thinking. What about a fundraiser? You know the sort of thing. Raise some money by trotting out a few celebs, nice food—nibbles probably, well more than likely because I’m not the greatest cook. Drink—or maybe they can bring their own? Music, we have to have music. Give people a reason to turn out and then put them in a mellow mood so they’ll feel the urge to dig deep. Umm … someone told me your aunt was in town. Just a thought. Talk tomorrow.
I had to laugh.
Would Hope agree to something like that? I wasn’t sure, but I supposed I could ask her. Well, I would ask her—Estelle’s shelter was a worthy cause and one I believed in. It would have to be tonight because Hope was supposed to be going back to Melbourne the next day, but surely she could hang around for Estelle’s big event before she flew off to the US?