You Wouldn't Be Dead for Quids

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You Wouldn't Be Dead for Quids Page 7

by Robert G. Barrett


  ‘I sure will,’ said Colin, snapping into action. He took the carton from under Les’s arm. ‘There was no need for you to bring anything Les, there’s plenty in the fridge. What have you got here anyway.’ He picked up one of the bottles. ‘My goodness, French champagne, Moet too, Diane look at this.’

  Diane turned and looked at the bottles Colin had taken out of the carton. ‘Les, there was no need to do that,’ she said. ‘It must have cost you a fortune. Tch tch, that’s silly. We’ll have to give you some money.’

  ‘Ohh that’s okay,’ replied Les casually, ‘I — ah found some money on the beach.’

  ‘Not with a metal detector surely,’ said Colin putting the bottles in the fridge.

  Les looked at the bruising round the knuckles on his massive right hand. ‘No. I didn’t use a metal detector,’ he replied.

  Diane stopped what she was doing. ‘Oh Les,’ she said. ‘This is my sister, Sophia. Sophia this is Les Norton.’

  Les turned to face Diane’s sister who was standing quietly in the doorway to the kitchen.

  Sophia looked nothing like her sister. Where Diane was blonde and petite Sophia was a tall, willowy, olive skinned brunette; almost as tall as Les. She wore hardly any make-up, just a touch of rouge on her high cheek-bones, and just enough eye-liner to accentuate a pair of deep emerald green eyes that seemed to burn into Les like two laser beams. Her hair was combed up on her head in a bun with a few lightly curled strands hanging softly round her ears, an expensive powder blue track suit fitted her snugly enough to emphasise two high, full breasts and a shapely behind. Framed in the doorway with her hands in her pockets she oozed haughty sophistication; several thin gold chains round her slender neck added to the image. Les guessed her to be somewhere in her late 20s, early 30s; and all woman.

  ‘Hello Sophia,’ said Les pleasantly. ‘Pleased to meet you.’ He held out his hand, Sophia’s handshake was warm and firm and better than a lot of men’s that Les had met.

  ‘So you’re the hero of the day,’ she said indifferently; the expression on her face didn’t change.

  ‘I don’t know about hero,’ said Les. ‘I guess I just happened to be in the right place at the right time.’

  ‘Mmmhh.’ Sophia eyed Les up and down then moved into the kitchen. ‘Did I hear someone mention Moet?’

  ‘Yes, Les brought some bottles,’ said Colin quickly, getting one out of the fridge.

  ‘You brought this?’ said Sophia, giving Les a derisive smile.

  Les shrugged his shoulders. He could sense Colin and Diane were a bit overawed by Sophia’s presence and she obviously wasn’t too impressed with him. ‘It’s a drink,’ he said nonchalantly. ‘I’d just as soon have a glass of beer myself. But let’s knock one off anyway.’

  Les took the bottle from Colin and with his powerful grip quickly and easily uncorked it, making a barely audible ‘pop’. Colin had four tall champagne glasses ready; Les filled them and handed them around. ‘Well,’ he said raising his glass ‘here’s to the newly-weds. May all your troubles be little ones.’ He clinked Colin’s glass and they all took a sip. All except Sophia; about half of hers went down the hatch in one go.

  Les watched her for a moment or two and tried to sum her up. She’s a snooty bitch he thought, not my cup of tea at all and I’d just make a dill of myself trying to get on to her. Anyway, I’ll have a good feed, a drink and piss off. That’ll do me.

  He reached over and refilled Sophia’s glass, the others declined. ‘Diane tells me you’re sisters,’ he said. ‘If you don’t mind me saying, you don’t look very much alike.’

  ‘We’re step-sisters actually,’ replied Sophia. ‘Same father, different mother.’

  ‘Oh.’ Les nodded towards the lounge. ‘Nice place you’ve got.’

  ‘Yes, my husband designed it. He was an architect.’

  ‘Was?’

  ‘He died about a year and a half ago.’

  ‘Oh, I’m sorry.’ He looked at her momentarily. ‘He must have only been young.’

  ‘Yes he’d just turned 30.’

  ‘Shit, that is young. What happened, if you don’t mind me asking?’

  Sophia drained the rest of her champagne. ‘He had a heart attack,’ she said quickly, shooting Diane a frosty look out of the corner of her eye. Diane seemed to blush slightly and looked down at the floor.

  Norton was slightly astounded. ‘A heart attack at thirty. Christ!’

  ‘It can happen, you know,’ sniffed Sophia. She moved over to the wall stove and glanced through the small glass window. ‘This should be just about ready soon.’

  Les sensed that she wanted to change the subject so he refilled their glasses. ‘Well, that bottle went down quicker than a shark shot full of shit, didn’t it,’ he said turning to Colin. ‘I guess I’d better rip the top off another one.’ So saying, he did and refilled all the glasses.

  ‘And what sort of work do you do Les,’ asked Sophia, taking a healthy pull on her glass of Moet.

  ‘I work in a gambling casino up the Cross,’ replied Norton.

  ‘What are you, a croupier?’

  ‘No, I work on the door.’

  Sophia gave another derisive little laugh. ‘You’re a bouncer.’

  ‘Sort of, yeah.’

  ‘And do you get to bounce many people, Les? I suppose you would.’

  ‘I don’t bounce people,’ replied Norton evenly. ‘I just bounce mugs.’

  Les then went on to explain a bit about the Kelly Club before they started thinking he was some punch-drunk thug who went around belting people just for the fun of it. He told them about the owner and all the charity work he did and all the people he had to bribe to stay in business and about some of the racehorses he owned. He told them about how his offsider Billy was an ex-champion fighter and some of the sights they’d seen round The Cross. He mentioned a little bit about some of the fights they’d been involved in — not making it too heavy.

  Colin and Diane were almost mesmerised at some of Les’s stories. Even the haughty Sophia became more than a little astonished when Les told them about the surprising number of rich and respected people who went there. The TV stars, film stars, church dignitaries, judges, barristers, politicians. Rich society women out with young gigolos, prominent Sydney businessmen out with sexy young call-girls.

  ‘So it’s not just a sleazy gambling den,’ said Les, ‘and I don’t run around bashing people all the time either.’

  ‘Obviously not,’ replied a slightly admonished Sophia.

  As she spoke a timer in the wall oven rang. ‘Righto,’ she said, clapping her hands together, ‘if you boys go out into the dining room we’ll start serving this up. Les, there are two bottles of wine in the fridge, would you open one and put it on the table.’

  ‘Sure.’ Les went to the fridge, took out a bottle of Black Tower, opened it and placed it in the middle of the oblong dining table, then sat down at one end to the right of Colin.

  The table had been set tastefully and thoughtfully. Crisp white serviettes in serviette rings, expensive place-mats and a fragrant flower arrangement in the middle. The lack of candles pleased Les, they gave him the shits the way they flickered in your eyes while you tried to eat and the smell almost turned you off your food. Instead, a small crystal chandelier above bathed the table in a soft white light that made a perfect atmosphere for eating.

  If the atmosphere was all right, the food was even better — and plenty of it. The entree was curried crab soup with sliced king prawns floating around in it; this arrived with two steaming french loaves of garlic bread and a huge, crisp green salad with a light ginger and herb dressing. Norton had never tasted anything like it. Even though Price had shouted him to some of the best restaurants in Sydney on odd occasions, basically Les was still an old fashioned country boy and loved nothing more than a good home-cooked meal.

  Next up was rack of lamb, pink inside and cooked to perfection. This was covered in a sweet prune and avocado sauce and was accompanied by a steaming b
owl of lightly cooked vegetables. Baby potatoes, carrots, broccoli, cauli and instead of gravy there was a sauce of chopped zucchini, tomato and onion, sauteed in butter and garlic. Les nearly fainted.

  Where Colin was a bit of a picker Norton was going for it like a Canadian pack wolf. The girls could see he was enraptured and were starting to pamper him a bit, filling his glass, scooping more vegetables on to his plate.

  ‘Everything all right, Les?’ asked Diane.

  ‘You’re kiddin’ aren’t you. If I’d have known it was gonna be this good I wouldn’t have bothered eating those three pies before I came over.’

  Sophia looked at Les in astonishment, then when she saw the grin on his face she started to laugh. She was starting to warm up a little towards Les.

  They finished the lamb and the second bottle of Black Tower and were sitting there quietly for a moment when Sophia got up.

  ‘Well, are we ready for sweets?’ she asked, looking directly at Les.

  ‘Sure, why not?’ replied the big red-headed bouncer.

  ‘Sweets was two pears dipped in marsala, rolled in sugar and surrounded by sliced kiwi-fruit and strawberries covered in Cointreau and cream, with scoops of passion-fruit ladled over the top.

  Norton took one bite and nearly got a horn. ‘Christ,’ was all he said.

  After finishing his sweets Norton pushed himself back from the table, wiped his face with his serviette and rubbed his stomach. ‘Fair dinkum,’ he said. ‘That’s one of, if not the best, feed I’ve ever had.’ He turned to Colin. ‘You sure weren’t kidding when you said your sister-in-law was a good cook.’

  ‘Enjoy it, did you Les?’ asked Sophia, a distinct glow from the champagne, wine and Cointreau starting to appear on her cheeks.

  ‘Enjoy it?’ said Les. ‘I tell you what Sophia, if you weren’t so ugly and broke I’d marry you, myself.’

  ‘Why, thank you Les,’ said Sophia, joining in the laughter with the others. ‘That’s one of the nicest compliments I’ve ever had.’ Norton didn’t realise it but with his earthy sense of humour he’d just about won Sophia. Much to his peril.

  ‘Well,’ said Sophia, ‘why don’t we clean up some of the mess and I’ll perc some coffee and then we can sit down and relax.’

  ‘Good idea,’ said Les rising from the table. ‘I’ll give you a hand.’

  ‘That’s all right,’ said Diane. ‘We’ll do it.’

  ‘Yes, sit down Les,’ said Colin. ‘You’re our guest.’

  ‘Okay, I’ll supervise and we can knock that last bottle of Moet off while it’s being done. Fair enough?’

  ‘Fair enough,’ said Diane.

  Between them they had the washing-up done in next to no time with Sophia taking in plenty of Moet and managing to bump into Norton or at least rub herself up against him quite a number of times during the proceedings.

  ‘You certainly like your food, Les, don’t you?’ she said.

  ‘He has to,’ said Colin. ‘Look at all those muscles and you want to see him fight. Phew.’

  ‘Yes, you look as if you’d be quite strong,’ said Sophia. ‘Do a lot of training do you?’

  ‘Yeah, a fair bit,’ replied Norton. ‘We have to because of the job. In fact I’m not trying to skite, but me and Billy are probably the two fittest blokes down at the gym where we work out.’

  ‘Mmmhh,’ purred Sophia sweetly, ‘that’s very good, isn’t it?’

  The coffee had percolated, so they all moved back out to the dining room. Norton grabbed the bottle of Tia Maria from the kitchen and opened it.

  ‘Why don’t we have a few nice Jamaican coffees?’ he said, pouring four large serves into the coffee mugs; they all nodded in agreement.

  They sat around talking and drinking coffee till the bottle of Tia Maria was almost gone and so was everybody else. Les glanced at his watch; it was nearly 11 o’clock.

  Colin stretched back in his chair and stifled a yawn. ‘Ohh, excuse me,’ he said, ‘but I’m just about on the nod.’

  Norton noticed that for the last half an hour he’d been giving Diane the same sort of looks Wily Coyote gives the Roadrunner.

  Can’t say I blame you, he thought, a trifle enviously.

  ‘Yes, it’s been a fairly traumatic day for both of us,’ said Diane. ‘I’m rather tired myself.’

  ‘Well go and get a good night’s sleep,’ said Sophia. ‘It’ll do you the world of good.’

  They rose from the table. Colin shook Les’s hand, Diane gave him a squeeze and a big, wet tender kiss on the cheek and made him promise he would come round again before he went back to Sydney. Les said he would. Then they were gone, leaving just him and Sophia. Oh well, thought Les, it hasn’t been a bad sort of night. They’re nice people, I’ve had a top feed, a good drink and I’ll have one more cup of coffee and piss off.

  He poured two more Jamaican coffees, picked his up and moved out on to the balcony. ‘Jesus, Sophia,’ he called out to her, ‘you sure got a grouse view from out here.’

  Below him the full moon had turned the water into liquid silver, broken only by the odd gentle wave wrapping quietly around the island that divides Forresters Beach. The reefs and the high rocky headland at the northern end reminded him of photos he’d seen of Honolulu.

  ‘This looks like something out of Hawaii Five O,’ he said to Sophia who had come out on the balcony to join him.

  ‘It’s lovely isn’t it?’ said Sophia, ‘Especially on nights like this.’

  ‘I’ll tell you what,’ said Les tugging at his pullover, ‘I don’t know whether it’s all those Jamaican coffees I had or what but struth it seems hot for this time of the year.’

  ‘Yes, I’d love a swim right now,’ said Sophia. ‘But I had the pool drained yesterday, I’m getting some tiles re-grouted.’ She looked at Les for a moment. ‘Did you say there was a pool back at your place?’

  ‘Yeah, a big one, but the water in it’s like bloody ice.’

  ‘That’s just how I like it. Why don’t we go back to your place and have a swim, I’d like to see this Price Galese’s house anyway.’

  ‘All right, please yourself. Just grab your costume. There’s plenty of towels back there.’

  Sophia gave Les a strange smile, then disappeared into one of the bedrooms returning with a large handbag. ‘Let’s go,’ she said.

  He followed her downstairs while she got her car, a white BMW, out of the garage and told her to follow him.

  Funny sheila, thought Les as they turned off The Entrance Road and headed towards Terrigal, fancy wanting a swim at this time of night. He looked at her headlights in his rear vision mirror and stroked his chin. I wonder if she’s after a root? Nah, she’s just a cockteaser, I reckon, put a hand on her and she’d probably scream rape. Oh well, who gives a stuff? Let her have a swim and she can piss off.

  They pulled up in the drive about five minutes later, Les opened the door and followed Sophia in; he’d left the hall light on, so he walked straight over and switched on the lounge room light.

  ‘Ooh this is nice,’ said Sophia admiring the expensive furniture and fittings. ‘Where’s the pool?’

  ‘Out here.’ Les hit two switches on the wall and the electric curtains hissed back to reveal a large kidney-shaped pool and spa with underwater lights glowing translucently in the huge sculptured backyard below.

  ‘That’s for me,’ said Sophia.

  ‘You can get changed in one of the rooms downstairs if you like,’ said Les. ‘I’ll get some towels.’

  ‘All right. Are you going to come in?’

  ‘Yeah, I suppose so.’

  ‘Good.’

  Norton went into the bedroom where he had his clothes, got changed out of his jeans and into a pair of Speedos, taking two large fluffy beach towels out of one of the wardrobes, he stopped at the door on the way out. Shit, he thought, I’m a moral to get a horn splashing around in the pool with this sheila and I don’t want to be running around with a great fat stickin’ out all over the place. He put a pair of Stubbies o
n over the top of the Speedos.

  With the keys jangling in one hand and the beach towels in the other Norton trotted downstairs and opened the back door.

  ‘Everything all right?’ he called out as he fiddled around trying to find the right key.

  ‘Sure is,’ came the reply.

  Norton got the door open and turned around just as Sophia came out of the bedroom and walked just a little unsteadily towards him. She’d decided to leave her costume at home too. Instead she had on a tiny white tank-top and a pair of lime-green silk knickers; the tightness of the tank-top revealed her large firm breasts to their fullest and her skimpy little green knickers barely covered the bulge of her crutch and the bristle of her pubic hairs. Fuckin’ hell, thought Norton, feeling like someone had just run a blow-torch across his balls, thank Christ I put these Stubbies on. He handed her one of the towels and followed her out to the pool on three legs.

  Sophia dropped the towel by the edge of the pool and tested the water with her toes. ‘No good mucking around,’ she said and dived in, hardly making a splash. She surfaced a few metres down the pool.

  ‘What’s it like?’ Les called out to her.

  ‘Beautiful.’

  Yeah, I’ll bet, he thought. Oh well here goes nothing, and with a great splash he dived in. The chill of the water as he dived down deep into the pool nearly took his breath away at first but feeling a bit heady from all the Tia Maria and champagne he found that when he surfaced he was instantly freshened up; he let go a yell and dived down again. After splashing around for a while he paddled over to the side of the pool and stood there treading water.

  ‘I told you it was nice,’ Sophia called from the other end of the pool.

  ‘Yeah, it’s not that bad,’ replied Les.

  He watched as she glided effortlessly up and down the pool, she had a lazy, easy style about her and her knickers had crept far enough up her backside to reveal a beautiful white bottom that almost made Norton break out into a sweat even in the cold water.

  After a while she drifted over and stopped in front of Les, resting her hands on his shoulders. She didn’t say anything but her emerald green eyes had turned into two smouldering pools of onyx that burnt deep inside him. He ran his hands up under her armpits and drew her gently into him, paused for a moment then kissed her. Her tongue was hard, sweet and hot and struck inside Norton’s mouth like a cobra. He slid his hands up along her ribcage lifting the tiny tank-top at the same time and cupped her warm firm breasts in his hands, they were too big even for Norton’s huge hands to go around. He ran his thumbs over the nipples, they firmed up even more and stuck out like bullets. Sophia gave a moan, threw her arms around Les’s neck and crushed her mouth hungrily on to his, at the same time wrapping her long legs around his waist. By now Norton had a fat so hard you could’ve cracked fleas on it.

 

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