Falling Into Queensland

by Jacqueline George

  The others had already settled in. Large tarpaulins had been slung between the trees and shaded a wide circle of canvas chairs. Most were empty. Marilyn carried one end of an esky and led Shirley at the other end.

  “We"ll take it over with the others,” she said. “We"ll want the meat, once they get the fire going. Grab a beer and let"s get down to the creek.”

  Half the town was enjoying the river. The kids were splashing in the water and their mothers were mostly sitting in the shallows and chatting. The men, dressed as always in hat, shirt, shorts and thongs, stood apart. Today their outfits were completed by a can of beer in a rubber cooler, and they sipped as much as they talked.

  Marilyn dived into the crowd, joshing the men and getting back as good as she gave. Then she looked back and felt a twinge of guilt as she saw Shirley helping Walter down the river bank. He reached flat ground and walked more confidently to the edge of the water.

  “Going in, Walter?” asked Marilyn.

  “You know, I think I might just dip my toes.” He set his

  beer down carefully and sat to remove his shoes.

  “How about you, Shirl?”

  “Is it safe?”

  “Yeah – sure. No crocs up here. Leastways, no salties. You might find the odd freshwater one at night, but they won"t hang around with all the noise. They"re too small to worry about, anyway.” She strode into the water as she was, thongs, beer and all. “Come on, then. There"s plenty of time to get dry later.”

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  “Wait! Wait for me. I"ve got a bikini on under this.” Shirley pulled her tee-shirt off and dropped it beside her skirt. She was wearing a small black bikini.

  “Jeez, Shirl. You"ll give me a heart attack dressed like that. And the men, too. You Europeans have got class.”

  Shirley flushed shyly. “Is it OK?”

  “Of course. You can wear want you like up here. It"s just that most of us don"t bother. Suppose we should really, but the guys don"t seem to give a stuff. Hey, what"s that? I don"t remember you having a tat.”

  Shirley"s hand went to the inside of her thigh. “Yes. Japan made me have one.”

  “Made you? That"s bad. Raylene?”

  “Yes. I didn"t mind, really. Do you like it?”

  She lifted her leg and Marilyn bent to look. High on the inside of her thigh, a knowing man in the moon, done in blue and yellow, was smiling up at her bikini.

  “Well, there"s a dirty old man, if ever I saw one. Japan chose that?”

  “No. No, I did, and Raylene helped. Do you like it?”

  “Yes. If you do. It"s cute. Funny and sexy too, but Japan"s a bastard if he forced you to get it done.”

  “Well, sort of, you know how he is. I like it now, so that"s alright. I suppose he just wanted to mark me, like branding a cow. At least he let me choose my own brand, and he hasn"t even seen it.”

  Marilyn did not like the idea, although the cheeky picture appealed to her.

  “And that"s not the worst of it,” Shirley continued. “He made me shave all my hair off – off my...”

  Marilyn understood immediately. “Bastard! He really knows how to put you down, doesn"t he? I bet that pissed you off, especially when it started to grow back.”

  Shirley shrugged. “I didn"t let it upset me. And I didn"t have to actually shave. Midge lent me some hair remover. She said it gets her cleaner and it doesn"t come back all bristly. Didn"t feel too bad in

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  the end, but I"m not keeping it that way. I"m not Midge. I"m standing up for my rights.”

  They smiled together over her act of defiance.

  “Come on, bring your beer and let"s get into the water. Come and meet some of the girls.” She led Shirley over to where the women were sitting in the water and watching their kids play.

  As the day got hotter, hunger began to drive them all back to the trees, everyone bringing what dry wood they could find. The men lit up the barbecue plates and settled down to producing lunch, and their women unwrapped salads and plates. Marilyn went to join Shirley and Walter, sitting in their chairs at the top of the river bank and enjoying the view.

  “Beats London, Shirl?” asked Marilyn.

  Shirley stretched. “London? Where"s that?”

  “I reckon we"ve got her, Walter. Another couple of weeks and she"ll be too uncivilised to ever go back.”

  “You could be right,” said Walter. “That"s what happened to me, I think. It"s so long ago, but I"m sure I never thought to stay more than a year or two. Nor Johnno either. I just came up for a bit of a break. Catch a few fish, drink a few beers. He was cutting cane then and that"s a tough life. When the season came around again, he just never got started. Can"t blame him. Anything"s better than cutting cane.”

  “What did he do to eat?” asked Shirley. “What were you doing to eat, come to that?”

  “Oh, let me see now. A bit of everything, if you want the truth. I remember we did a bit of fencing for a while. Then we"d do building work, painting, mixing concrete, that sort of thing. Johnno even had a go at shooting crocs one year, then the Government banned it. Seems as if we didn"t need much money in those days. What were we going to spend it on? We brewed our own beer, mostly. Grew a bit of food, caught fish and crabs.

  “When Liza and Mary came along – Liza was your aunt, Shirl – they made us work a bit harder. Liza could cook, they"d taught her how at the Mission, and she made Johnno get a kitchen

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  together for her. He didn"t mind, and that"s when he built his

  house.”

  “And Liza died?” asked Shirley.

  “No. Not at first, anyway. It was Mary. She was the older sister, and she got taken sick. I took her to the clinic, and we ended up taking her down to the hospital in Cooktown. Didn"t do any good. She got pneumonia and died. She was all gone in a week. Liza was with her when she went, and with Mary gone, she really didn"t want to stay in Port Bruce. I mean, she liked Johnno well enough in her way, but she was all alone without Mary. She took off to visit her folks and never came back. A man left an envelope at the club a couple of years later, and said she"d died. She only left a couple of photos of her and Johnno, and a bracelet.”

  Marilyn could see tears in Shirley"s eyes and went to stand behind her. “How"s your beer, girl? Ready for another? How about you, Walter? No, stay where you are. I"ll get them.”

  Shirley came with her to the esky. “It"s so sad,” said Shirley. “They must have been so lonely.”

  “Well, yes and no. They had their mates, and that means a lot to an Aussie. And I can"t blame your aunt for not hanging around. Family is everything to Aboriginals and never seeing one of her own people... You can"t expect her to live like that.

  “We"ve got plenty of single guys hanging around in the bush here. Some have huts, others are just camped out. Hardly see them one month to the next. Very Australian way of doing things. The men go off to the bush, work in the mines or on the stations, and the women stay back in the cities with the kids. "Cept the men get too uncivilised and don"t go back. They like it out here, and whenever they go back to see their kids, they"re itching to leave again.”

  “That sounds terrible.”

  “You"re right. Wouldn"t suit me, but then, I"m not a cranky old man. I don"t know how I"d get on if Ian wasn"t around. I like to see people. Most of the time, anyway. Here, take that for Walter. I"ll bring yours.”

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  They settled down again to watch the river and wait for lunch. In the distance, a station wagon appeared on the main road, coming from the Cooktown direction. It eased onto the causeway and splashed across.

  “Mmh – a traffic jam,” said Shirley, but Marilyn was listening.

  “It"s coming up here,” she said. “I wonder who that is. We weren"t expecting anyone from out of town.”

  They listened as the heavy mot
or came nearer and nearer. The car doors slammed and moments later Raylene and Midge stepped into the shade of the tarpaulins. They had timed their arrival well, because the sausages started to come off the barbecues.

  “I"ve brought you a present from Japan, Marilyn. He said you wouldn"t mind taking care of Midge. Just as well we spotted you here. Saved me a bit of trip.”

  Marilyn put an arm around Midge"s shoulders. “How are you going, Raylene? Yeah, Midge"ll stop with me. Come and grab some food. The beers are in that esky – help yourself.”

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  Chapter 25

  They sat together, eating from plastic plates on their laps. Raylene wanted to see Shirley"s tattoo. “It"s looking good, Shirl,” she said. “Japan did you a favour, I reckon. Do you like it?”

  Shirley looked uncomfortable as all her friends stared at her little man in the moon. “It"s fine. I really like him now. Thanks to the expert for a good job, I suppose. I"m not going to thank Japan for anything.”

  “Fair enough, I suppose. I"d keep well away from him, if I were you. He was really pissed off when he found you"d run away. How did you do that, anyway? I mean, cutting the hand cuffs. He was rooting around for ages afterwards trying to figure out who helped you. Second thoughts, don"t tell me. He can sort his own problems out.”

  Raylene turned to Marilyn. “Hey, you know anything about Chinese in Port Bruce? We had a real big wheel turn up at the Makepeace, all the way from Melbourne. Something screwed up somewhere and as far as Japan lets on, some-one in Port Bruce sent a letter about him and the Makepeace to China. That make any sense?”

  Marilyn was sure it did not. “Yeah, you talking about two

  Chinese in a Mercedes? I saw them in town. Must have been nuts to

  drive that thing to Port Bruce, and even crazier if they took it all the way into the Makepeace. What did they want, anyway? There"s no Chinese in Port Bruce. They"d stick out like sore thumbs.”

  “Don"t know what it"s all about, but it sure had Japan hopping. Keep clear of him, Shirl. I"m serious. He seems to think you"re the root of all his troubles, though I don"t see how, and he"ll go for you given half a chance. You don"t speak Chinese, do you?”

  Shirl chuckled. “Me? I wish. I don"t know what he wants. I

  wish he"d just leave me alone.”

  Soon after, Raylene unfolded herself from the floor. “Guess

  I"d better get moving. Going to see me off, Marilyn?”

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  As they walked together to the trucks, Raylene said quietly “You"d better take good care of Shirl, Marilyn. I didn"t want to frighten her too much, but Japan"s really gunning for her. He"s dead set that she"s done something to make him look bad in Melbourne, though God knows what. You sure there"s no Chinese in Port Bruce?”

  “Come on, Raylene. I think I"d know. Port Bruce"s not much of a city, if you"ve noticed.”

  “Yeah, well, sounds stupid to me too, but what do I know? Take care of her anyway. I"ll try and give you a call if I hear he"s coming down, but I can"t guarantee it.”

  Marilyn drove back thoughtfully at the end of the afternoon. Midge had taken Shirley"s place between her and Walter. Shirley was sitting in the tray with Tom, Floozy and a lot of dust. Marilyn would have to have a word with Tom about Raylene"s warning. It would not hurt have him keeping an eye out too.

  She woke early, thinking about Raylene and her warning. There was nothing Shirley could have done to hurt Japan. She had only just arrived in Port Bruce, and she was as far removed from him and his shady deals as you could get. If Japan had been normal, she might have been able to talk some sense into him, but as it was... She lay on her back and watched the ceiling fan whirl. There must be something she could do to help Shirley.

  Midge stirred beside her and, on another morning, she could have been tempted to stay in bed. Not this morning. There was too much on her mind. She rolled out of bed and pulled the sheet off Midge. “Come on, girl. Bacon and eggs in ten minutes.”

  Later, as they sat on the veranda and Midge was having an after breakfast cigarette, Marilyn gently tried to get more out of her.

  “Japan treating you right then, Midge? Not working you too

  hard?”

  “No, he"s OK, as long as you don"t cross him. He treats me pretty well, I suppose. He"s OK, once you"re used to him.”

  “You must have the patience of a saint. Don"t think I could put up with him for long.”

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  “Well, he pays good money at the end of the month but I reckon I earn it. It"s a shame about him and Shirl, though. You"re not with Shirl, are you?”

  “Nah. She"s not into that.”

  Midge smiled and said, “Doesn"t know what she"s missing. It"s much better when you do me than anyone else. I don"t think Japan gives a stuff, but with you it just goes on and on and on. Perhaps I should come down here instead.”

  “Oh no. Then we"d have Japan hating us all, and it"s bad enough with just Shirl. You think he"s really after her?”

  Midge refused to talk about it, which was the worst answer she could have given.

  Marilyn did not see Shirley again until mid week. She came riding up the driveway on her bicycle, with Floozy barking and running circles around her. “You"ve got to come down to the library, Marilyn. Your Stephanie has sent me an email. She"s been trying to contact you – when did you last check your email? She says it"s important.”

  It had been a while and Marilyn felt guilty. She lifted the bicycle into the back of her ute and they set off together. Shirley made her log on and check the email herself, just to prove she could do it.

  The news from London was not good and as soon as she read Rupert"s name, she called Shirley over to sit beside her and read the mail.

  Rupert has been cooking up something with Mr Bradley-Smythe. He seems to be in and out of the office every day and I can’t imagine why. It’s nothing to do with normal work or I would know the details. You remember you asked me to empty your camera for you? Well, I think I saw him bringing it, or one just the same, in to Mr Bradley-Smythe. Does that mean anything to you? The reason I ask is because today I heard that Rupert is moving up to this floor as a personal assistant and that doesn’t sound right at all. You would need to be golden haired and the Chairman’s nephew to land an assignment like that at his

  age. What was in the camera, or is it too private to tell? Perhaps you should call

  Rupert and ask him what is going on.

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  Anyway, enough of the conspiracy theories. I have printed out some of your pictures (the ones without you in them) and put them behind my desk. I can’t believe you live in such a lovely place. I must come and visit – can you find space for me? But no snakes. Every time there’s anything on the television about Australia, there are snakes everywhere and I hate them. But then, I don’t suppose you have snakes in your house, or you would not survive.

  It is grey and miserable weather here – typical London. Sometimes I hate it so much, but I still get up in the morning and come to work. I am so jealous of Shirley. She must be so brave to just give everything up and go to Australia.

  Email me soon, Stephanie.

  Marilyn felt the silence beside her, and then Shirley said, “Let"s send her a quick reply and we"ll go for a coffee. Click that button there.”

  Shirley looked thoughtful as she sat in Lulu"s and gazed out over the river, coffee in hand. She put her mug on the table and asked, “Do you know what"s going on, Marilyn? Why"s Stephanie emailing you about Rupert? And what was all that about a camera? You don"t have a camera, do you?”

  “No, I don"t. I bought one for London, though. I needed it for evidence.”

  “Evidence? You didn"t bring back any pics. I thought you just weren"t a proper tourist.”

  Shirley"s questions were getting embarrassing. “No, not for that. It"s that slim
y boss of Rupert"s. I needed something to hold over him, otherwise the bastard would have half-inched the money and gone. I know it. I wouldn"t trust him with an empty stubby.”

  “But what"s Rupert got to do with it?”

  “I don"t know. I left the camera with him, just in case, but he wasn"t meant to look at it. Steph made a copy for me, on one of those memory things. I didn"t tell Rupert about that. Don"t know why.

  “I"ll tell you what, Shirl. This doesn"t look good at all. If bloody Jeremy thinks he"s got hold of those pics, the whole deal could be in deep shit. They were the only things keeping him

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  straight. I don"t want to be around if he tries ripping off Japan"s money. Life"s short enough as it is, and I don"t want to leave early. Can you give Rupert a call? What"s the time over in London? Come back to my place and we"ll do it from there.”

  Instead of thinking about telephoning, Shirley went straight for the embarrassing bit. “What"s on the photos, Marilyn? Did you sit on Jeremy"s lap in his office?”

  “Don"t ask, Shirl. It"s too stupid, but I had to set him up somehow. You know, catch him in some pics that he wouldn"t want his friends to see.” Shirley was staring at her with questions all over her face. “Look – it wasn"t my fault. Don"t blame me. I had to do something, or you"d still be tied up on top of that dredge. So I let him take me home, and I got some photos of him. Rude ones.”

  “Rude ones? Rude photos? And he just let you take them?”

  “Well, I had to tie him up first... Look, I just don"t want to talk about it, OK? It was bad enough doing it in the first place.”