You Wouldn't Be Dead for Quids

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You Wouldn't Be Dead for Quids Page 22

by Robert G. Barrett


  ‘Well. What do you reckon?’ said Big Danny, laughing like a hyena with a fish-bone stuck in its throat.

  ‘What do I reckon?’ replied Billy with a grin. ‘I reckon mine’s all right. I don’t know about yours, Les.’

  ‘Well I do,’ growled Norton, ‘and the answer is no. N-fuckin’-O.’

  ‘Come on Les, don’t be a nark,’ said Billy. ‘I’ll go for the little one. You grab the big one, she’s more your size anyway.’

  ‘Turn it up Billy,’ replied Norton. ‘I wouldn’t be seen dead with that big fat thing.’

  ‘She’s not that fat.’

  ‘Not that fat? She looks like some one’s been up her arse with a bike-pump. If she ever fell over she’d rock herself to sleep trying to get back up.’

  ‘Now she’s not that bad.’

  ‘Not that bad. Have a look at her big fat head. She’s got more chins than the Hong Kong phone book. I reckon if there was a peeping-tom in her neighbourhood he’d pull her blind down.’

  Big Danny laughed and ordered another round. ‘Listen girls,’ he said handing the boys their drinks. ‘I’ll leave it to you to argue about the two lovelies. I’ve gotta get back on the George Moore, there’s a few startin’ to come and go now.’ He finished the rest of his can in a swallow, wiped the foam heartily from his mouth with the back of his hand and patted Les and Billy on the shoulder. ‘I’ll see youse after.’

  ‘Righto. See you Danny.’ The boys watched silently as Big Danny weaved his way through the crowd and disappeared in the direction of the door. Eventually Billy turned to Les. ‘Well, what are we gonna do about these two sheilas?’ he said.

  ‘I’m not going to do a great deal at all to tell you the truth,’ replied Les.

  ‘Look, mate, just do us a favour,’ pleaded Billy looking over at the two girls from Brisbane and then back at Les. ‘I’ll front the little blonde, if I look like doing all right just give us a back-up and talk to the big one for a while, that’s all.’

  ‘I’m not goin’ to dance with the horrible big thing and there’s no way in the fuckin’ world I’m goin’ to walk out the door with it.’

  ‘No. Just come over and have a mag to her if I look like doing all right with the other one.’

  Norton paused for a moment then shook his head and looked at the floor. ‘Yeah righto,’ he mumbled reluctantly.

  With a grin like a kid in an ice-cream shop Billy slapped Norton lightly on the cheek then blew him a kiss. ‘Who loves ya, baby,’ he said and walked quickly over to the girls’ table — the next thing he was leading the smiling little blonde towards the dance floor.

  The big one caught Norton’s eye and seeing him standing there alone in his tuxedo immediately figured out he was Billy’s mate, so she flashed a big dopey smile over at him then sat there with an expression on her face like a big silly dog waiting for its master to throw a stick so it can go and chase it. Norton caught her eye, smiled briefly then turned to the bar and ordered another drink, hoping it would be a long time coming; unfortunately the girl behind the jump knew who Les was and although there were plenty of others waiting he had a fresh beer in front of him in about ten seconds.

  He took a pull on the can then slowly turned around — Fatso was still staring over at him. God, how am I going to get out of this? he thought. Norton would have been quite content to just stand there drinking beer and watching all the different types go past, but he’d promised Billy he’d back him up, so taking a good solid pull on his can of beer and feeling more than just a little embarrassed he ambled slowly over to the big blonde’s table.

  ‘Hello there,’ he said as pleasantly as he could. ‘All right if I sit down here for a few minutes.’

  ‘Sure,’ replied Fatso, her eyes sparkling. ‘My girlfriend’s just gone for a dance.’ She couldn’t believe her luck. A man, well dressed and not half a bad style either, actually walking up to her and asking if he could sit next to her. Australia certainly was the land of opportunity. ‘I think that was your friend she just got up to dance with.’

  ‘Yeah it was,’ replied Norton. ‘I’d ask you for a dance myself but I just had a cartilage operation on my knee and it’s still pretty sore.’

  ‘Oh, that’s bad luck. Oh well, doesn’t matter. We can just sit here and talk.’

  ‘Yeah.’ Norton took another pull on his beer, almost draining it.

  ‘How come you’re both wearing tuxedos?’ asked Fatso. ‘Have you just finished work?’

  ‘No, we’re Masons. We’ve just finished a late meeting at the lodge.’

  ‘Ooh, you’re a Mason?’ Fatso’s eyes lit up. ‘I’ve never met one before. You’ve got all those funny little hand signals haven’t you? How about showing me some.’

  Norton looked at her blankly for a moment. Christ, are you dumb or what? he thought. ‘Well I’m not allowed to divulge the secret signs,’ he said ‘but I can show you one of our IQ tests.’

  ‘Ooh ooh. Show me, show me.’

  ‘Righto. Put your left hand on the table, palm down.’ Fatso avidly did as she was told. ‘Now watch carefully,’ said Les as he placed both his hands, palms down, alongside hers. ‘Are you watching?’

  ‘Ooh yes.’

  Norton then criss-crossed his hands several times over the top of hers then placed them alongside her hand again.

  ‘Are you watching carefully now?’

  ‘Yes.’ Fatso never took her eyes off the table for a second.

  Norton criss-crossed his hands over the top of hers again, slowly then quickly, then he placed his hands alongside her hand again and looked her right in the eye.

  ‘Okay,’ he said slowly and deliberately. ‘Now which is your hand?’

  Fatso looked at him for a moment, looked down at her hand without moving it, then looked back at Les. ‘The — one in the middle?’ she said hesitantly.

  Norton felt the nerves in his jaw muscle tic as he tried not to laugh at the serious look on the blonde’s fat face. ‘You’re sure on the ball, love,’ he said, reaching over and patting her on the shoulder.

  ‘Ooh, that was an easy one,’ she said gleefully. ‘Show me another.’

  ‘I’ll — ah show you some more later on.’

  ‘You promise?’

  ‘Yes, I promise.’

  Norton drained his can and looked around the room for a waitress, catching one’s eye about two tables away. ‘I’m going to get another beer,’ he said pulling some money out of his coat pocket. ‘Do you want a drink?’

  ‘Yes please. Gin and Coke with a dash of bitters. Is that all right?’

  Norton’s stomach turned slightly at the thought. ‘Yeah. No worries,’ he winced.

  Norton ordered the drinks and turned to the dance floor where he could make out Billy’s head bobbing up and down among the other dancers. He had a grin from ear to ear and was obviously enjoying himself immensely as he and the little blonde twisted and bumped their way through the sweating, colourfully dressed people packed on to the tiny dance floor. He caught Norton’s eye and gave him a wave; Les waved back but more in an upward motion with his middle finger stuck out.

  ‘What’s your name, anyway?’ asked the fat blonde.

  Norton turned and looked at her for a second; I suppose I may as well tell you some of the truth he thought. ‘Les. What’s yours?’

  ‘Francis. But everyone calls me Fran.’

  ‘Well, I’m pleased to meet you, Francis.’

  ‘Me too, Les.’

  The drinks arrived and Norton payed the waitress, who looked at him quizzingly as she wondered why he of all people would be sitting with and buying drinks for what was unmistakably the fattest, ugliest girl in the place. Norton sensed what the waitress was thinking and pushed Fran’s drink over to her, gulping down almost half of his beer in one go as he tried to hide his embarrassment.

  ‘What sort of work do you do, Les?’

  Norton belched quietly into his hand and looked at Francis for a moment. ‘I’m a dental technician,’ he said.

&nbs
p; ‘Really? You don’t look like a dentist.’

  ‘No. I work out at Manly Aquarium. I make false teeth for gummy sharks.’

  ‘Oh.’ Francis paused for a second. ‘That’d be a tricky job. I’ve got an uncle who’s a vet,’ she said in all seriousness.

  ‘Go on, eh?’ Norton looked absently at Francis. Christ, just how dumb are you he thought. I wonder what they nicknamed you back in Brisbane. Probably Fat Francis or Fat Fuck or what about Francis the Talking Fuck. With raised eyebrows he took another large pull on his can. ‘And what sort of work do you do, Francis?’

  ‘I’m a hairdresser. My sister and I have a salon in Brisbane.’

  ‘What, just the two of you?’

  ‘No, we’ve got eight girls and two apprentices working for us.’

  ‘Yeah? You must be doing all right.’

  Francis just smiled.

  ‘I thought you might have been a hairdresser,’ said Les.

  ‘Oh. Why’s that?’

  ‘Because you’ve got such lovely hair.’

  Francis blushed slightly and started to get a bit soggy round the crutch as Norton immediately zoomed up the charts to become number one on Fran’s Top Forty. After that last remark he was Fran’s Paul Newman, Elvis Presley and Bob Hawke all rolled up into one.

  ‘So what brings you down to Sydney, Fran?’ Norton took a sip on his beer and belched lightly into his hand again.

  ‘Well. I shouldn’t really be telling you this and don’t say I told you, but my sister’s down here for an operation. She’s going to have a cyst removed from her womb.’ Francis giggled into her drink. ‘We told the big guy on the door she was a Meter Maid from Surfers down here for a TV commercial.’

  Norton laughed politely. ‘You know, it’s a funny thing, Fran,’ he said, ‘but a mate of mine’s wife just had exactly the same operation and they ended up sewing a little window inside her fanny.’

  ‘A window?’

  ‘Yeah. Now she’s got a womb with a view.’

  Francis looked at Norton for a moment then threw back her head in a deep throaty laugh of bouncing fat tits and rippling double chins. ‘Oh Les,’ she cried reaching over and slapping him on the arm. ‘I think you have me on a bit at times.’

  Norton was laughing heartily too and strangely enough, for all the derogatory remarks he’d made about Francis, he found he was taking a bit of a shine to her. She was no doubt as thick as pig shit, definitely as naive as they come and uglier than a hat full of arse-holes, but somehow Norton couldn’t help but like her — and after all she was a Queenslander so she couldn’t be all that bad.

  ‘I’m from Queensland too, Fran, to tell you the truth,’ he said.

  ‘Really. What part?’

  ‘A little place called Dirranbandi.’

  ‘Dirranbandi. Why Les, I was only out there a couple of months ago.’

  Norton sat up straight and his eyes started to sparkle. It was the first time since he’d been in Sydney he’d met anyone that had even heard of Dirranbandi let alone been there. ‘Fair dinkum?’ he almost shouted at her.

  ‘Yes. I’ve got an uncle’s got a property out at Woolerbilla on the Culgoa River.’

  ‘Woolerbilla. Shit, I used to go pig shootin’ out there.’

  ‘The last time I was out there we had a picnic about ten kilometres out of Dirranbandi at a little place called Crystal Springs on the Narran River. It’s beautiful out there.’

  Norton smiled warmly across the table at Francis. ‘It sure is,’ he said, more than just a little bit sentimentally. ‘It sure is. Christ, Francis, let me buy you another drink.’

  Norton looked around eagerly for a waitress. The band had stopped playing and he didn’t notice Billy and the little blonde standing at the edge of the table — Billy had a very surprised look on his face. He’d expected to come back and find Les with an absolute and complete case of the shits. Instead, he was almost shocked to find him and the fat blonde laughing and chattering away like they’d been friends for years.

  ‘Excuse me, miss,’ he said to Francis. ‘But is this man annoying you?’

  Norton looked up abruptly at the sound of Billy’s voice. ‘Oh hello,’ he said. ‘John Travolta’s back. How’d you go out there, Trav. Did you get down? Get back up again?’

  ‘We killed ’em mate, don’t you worry about that,’ said Billy, as he and the little blonde sat down facing each other. The little blonde’s eyes were swimming as she looked at Billy and you didn’t have to be Albert Einstein to see he’d swept her off her feet.

  ‘Les. This is Colette.’

  ‘Hello Colette. Nice to meet you.’

  ‘Hello Les.’

  Up close Colette was even prettier again. Her hair was beautifully styled and apart from some light lipstick and a little eye-liner she wore hardly any make-up. She had high, angled cheek-bones which gave her an almost Slavish appearance, quite unlike her sister, and for such a small girl she had a very deep, very sexy voice which because of it’s unusualness absolutely fascinated Les.

  He introduced Billy to Francis as a waitress appeared and Billy ordered some more drinks — the same again for Les and Francis but a bourbon and Coke and a black russian for him and Colette.

  While they were waiting for the drinks Francis said she was going out to powder her nose asking Colette if she’d like to join her. The way she said it, it sounded more like a hint that it might be a good idea if she did.

  ‘Well, what’s happening?’ asked Les as soon as the girls had moved away from the table.

  ‘Mate, I’m as sweet as a nut with the little blonde,’ replied Billy. ‘They’re only staying round the corner at the Crest. I put it straight on her that we get out of here and go back there for a drink.’

  ‘What’d she say?’

  ‘Sweet. We’re going straight back after these drinks.’ Billy winked at Les and rubbed his hands together gleefully. ‘Mate, I’ll have that little blonde’s pants off in about five minutes. Colette baby, you little beauty.’ Billy laughed wildly and rubbed his hands together again.

  ‘Yeah. She looks like she’s got the hots for you all right.’

  ‘Ohh mate, you should have seen it on the dance floor. She was all over me like a cake of soap. It was unbelievable.’ Billy paused and smiled slyly at Norton. ‘How are you going with the big one anyway. Fran’ baby?’

  ‘All right. She’s not a bad scout to tell you the truth.’

  ‘Yeah, she’s all right. Why don’t you whip her Reg Grundys off too when we get back there. Do her a favour.’

  ‘I don’t know about that.’

  ‘Go on, give her one. It might be all right once you get under the rolls of fat. She’s got a big set. You always reckon you like big tits.’

  ‘Mmmhhh.’

  The waitress arrived with the drinks, Norton went for his kick but Billy paid for them, giving the young red-haired waitress one of his big flashy smiles and seeing he was in a jubilant sort of a mood a big tip as well. The young waitress was very impressed and took her time wiping the table, poking a fair bit of cleavage, from where she’d undone the top buttons of her blouse, right under Billy’s nose.

  While they were sipping on their drinks Norton told Billy what Francis had been telling him about their hair-dressing salon in Brisbane and about the operation her sister was going to have. He didn’t want to dampen Billy’s enthusiasm but he thought that it might be a good idea to mention it just in case.

  ‘An ovarian-cyst,’ chuckled Billy, ‘that’s nothing. Might even make it better. Give it a whole new twist so to speak.’ He took a large gulp of his bourbon and Coke and smacked his lips. ‘It’ll take more than a lousy bloody cyst to stop me throwing Colette up in the air tonight, I can tell you.’

  Norton smiled as he looked across Billy’s shoulder. ‘Here they come now anyway,’ he said quietly.

  The girls returned, sat down at the table and took a sip from their drinks. There seemed to be a little bit of tension between them on their return — Colette had a smug s
ort of a look on her face, whereas Francis seemed a bit concerned about something. It was obvious words had been exchanged in the ladies room.

  Norton sensed this but Billy seemed completely oblivious, or if he wasn’t he certainly wasn’t letting on and got straight to the point.

  ‘Well, what do you reckon girls?’ he said, looking directly at Colette. ‘We finish these and head back to your place eh? Its starting to get awfully hot and smoky in here.’

  ‘Okay,’ said Colette brightly.

  ‘You got anything to drink back there?’

  ‘There’s some Bacardi and a bottle of Coke in the fridge,’ said Francis. For some reason or other she didn’t sound all that enthusiastic.

  ‘That’ll do,’ said Billy, almost finishing his bourbon and coke in a swallow; it was obvious he was keen to get moving.

  ‘I might just have a quick snakes,’ said Norton rising from the table and heading for the gents.

  He got back just in time to see Colette finish off her black russian and barely had time to get his backside on the seat when Billy spoke.

  ‘Well, what do you reckon?’ he said. ‘We get going?’

  ‘Yeah righto,’ said Les finishing his can of beer. ‘Let’s hit the toe.’

  The girls picked up their handbags. Billy took Colette by the arm and like a true gentleman ushered her gently through the still-crowded Mandrake Room towards the front door. Francis fell in behind, waiting for Les but he discreetly let a couple of people who were heading in that direction get in between them; you might be a nice friendly Queensland girl, thought Les, but there’s no way I’m going to be seen walking through the place with you. I mightn’t be Brian Ferry but you’re just a bit too ugly.

  They got to the entrance where Big Danny was standing just inside the door, patiently opening and closing it for whoever wanted to leave, and although it was late he was doing his best to be pleasant to the patrons as they left. As he saw the four of them approaching, his eyes lit up and a superfluous grin spread across his face.

 

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