The Lilliputians
On the last day, the men shared the rams, a slow and difficult task. Paddy was kept busy with the tar bucket and the smell of blood made his nose tingle. When the last ram was shorn and sent down the chute, the bell rang, the whistle blew and Gunyah Station was cut out.
In an hour, the sheds were deserted. The men took their pay and headed back onto the road. On horse, on foot, even one man on a bicycle, they set off in all directions. Tom, Jim and Mac all came and said goodbye to Paddy before hitching their swags onto their shoulders again and taking to the road. Jim pressed a pound note into Paddy's hand. ‘For the kid,’ he said. Paddy shook his hand and thanked him.
Paddy stood waiting with Violet while bales of pressed wool were secured on the bullock dray and then they scrambled onto the top of the load. Swirls of dust rose up behind them as Gunyah Station disappeared from view and the long road stretched out ahead. In the late afternoon the next day, they reached the banks of the Murray and crossed over the wide river into Echuca, from where they'd catch the night train to Melbourne.
Violet was asleep before the train left the station. Paddy tried to prop her up so that she slept in her seat but in the end he gave up and woke to find her curled up against him as usual.
When they reached Melbourne, Violet was overwhelmed by the sights and sounds of the city. She let out a little shriek as they stood on a busy street corner and a crowded tram trundled past. Paddy had to drag her away from the shop windows. If he loosened his grip for a moment, she'd run and press her face against the plate glass, staring in wonder at the displays.
Paddy took her straight into an emporium. The staff looked at him suspiciously but when he laid the pound notes on the table, one of the shop ladies took Violet away and brought her back in a simple cotton dress and a pair of shiny black boots. Even though Violet complained that the leather pinched, he could tell she was pleased. She stood on the pavement outside the emporium, staring down at the shiny black shoes and grinning from ear to ear. Delicately, she pointed one toe out in front and then the other, hopping from foot to foot in a little dance.
The city streets shimmered in the heat and the smell from the horse manure was pungent. Paddy felt too hot under the weight of Dai's coat but it was easier to wear it than carry it. They wandered up through the city, asking directions to the Haymarket Theatre.
When Paddy turned into the stage door, his heart started to thump so loudly that he worried Violet would hear it and be infected with his nervousness. If they didn't get work with the Lilliputians, he didn't know what they'd do next. He wished he'd had enough money to buy new clothes for himself as well as Violet. Self-consciously, he brushed the dust from his coat.
There were dozens of kids lined up to audition. Violet clung to Paddy's arm as they waited in the line for their names to be entered in a big leatherbound scrapbook. He shook her loose while he spoke to the man, trying to act more confident and grown-up than he really felt.
‘We're casting for The Pirates of Penzance,’ said the man. ‘taking the troupe to New Zealand on tour. Which one of you is auditioning?’
‘We both are, sir. I'm fourteen, sir, and the little girl is six.’
‘You're tall for fourteen,’ said the man disapprovingly. ‘We like our kiddies to be small for their age. What's your names, then?’
Paddy watched as the man wrote down Billy and Violet Smith.
They sat on a bench in the wings, watching each of the children walk out on stage to perform. Paddy could feel the sweat prickling on his forehead and the back of his neck.
Each of the children had to sing a song, make an attempt at a few dance steps and, if they could, demonstrate some other skill. When it came to Paddy's turn, he felt himself blushing nervously as he stepped out into the middle of the stage. He sang Ave Maria. His voice had grown deeper since the last time he had sung it, but the notes rang clear and true through the theatre.
‘You have a fine voice. Can you show me anything else, boy?’ asked Mr Pollard. He had a clipboard on his lap and wrote a few scratchy words on the sheet before him.
‘I have a good memory. I can memorise anything, sir. And I can recite, too. This one is by Mr Henry Lawson.’
Mr Pollard listened patiently as Paddy recited a poem Jim had taught him, Freedom on the Wallaby.
Mr Pollard nodded and sucked his cheeks in thoughtfully. ‘Next,’ he called.
Violet skipped confidently out onto the stage and grinned at the adults watching her.
‘This song is my favourite. My mam taught it to me.’
She sang in a high, sweet voice Believe me, if all those endearing young charms. Paddy saw the expression of delight on Mr Pollard's face and shifted restlessly from one foot to the other, his fingers crossed. Violet did a couple of turns of the stage, skipping and tumbling, showing off the tricks that Jack Ace and Coo-chee had taught her, and then she bounded back to Paddy.
‘We'll both be in the show! We'll both be in the show!’ she crowed.
They sat on a long wooden bench beside the other auditioning children, who all seemed to have their parents with them. After the auditions had finished, a stout woman walked along the line, talking to the parents. When she came to Paddy, she stopped.
‘Where are your parents, young man?’
‘We don't have any.’
The woman looked at him sharply. ‘No guardian? No grandparents?’
‘No, ma'am. But we'll both work hard, if you take us. You won't be sorry.’
Mrs Pollard blushed.
‘I'm sorry, sonny. You were very good but we can't take you. You're too old.’
‘But it said from six to sixteen in the paper!’ said Paddy.
‘We already have a couple of lads your age. But your little sister here, she's another story. She'll be a real crowd-pleaser. Our audiences come to see the little ones. It's what our show's all about.’
‘But Violet can't be in your show without me. She needs me to look after her. And she has to learn her letters. I've been teaching her to read.’
‘We'll take good care of her and teach her a trade. We also employ a teacher and give all the children daily lessons. Your little sister will learn to read and write, don't you worry about that. This is a great opportunity for her. All these other families, they're more than happy to send their children off with the company. It can't be easy for you to be looking after your little sister on your own.’
Paddy was silent. He looked down at Violet and she slipped her hand into his and smiled, her face bright with trust. Paddy swallowed hard, the words catching in his throat. ‘We have to stick together.’
‘Listen, boy. I don't know what your story is and where you're living, but if the welfare catch onto you, they'll take your little sister away from you. She'll be a lot better off with us than in any orphan asylum.’
The woman reached into her pocket and took out a shiny new shilling.
‘Here you go, you take this for now and have a think about it. Bring her back this evening and I'll give you five pounds. I promise you, you'll both be better off.’
Paddy grabbed Violet by the wrist and dragged her out into the harsh sunlight. He hadn't planned for this at all. He hadn't considered what would happen if one or the other of them failed to win a part in the production.
They wandered aimlessly around the city streets while the afternoon shadows grew longer. Paddy bought two hot saveloys from a street vendor and when they'd finished eating, he counted the change. After paying for their fares to Melbourne, Violet's outfit and the saveloys, there wasn't a lot of money left over, despite the extra pound Jim had given him and Mrs Pollard's shilling. He'd have to come up with a new plan quickly.
He was re-counting a handful of pennies when someone shoved his shoulder and the coins went flying. Paddy looked up to see Nugget Malloy standing beside him, leaning on his cane.
‘I remember you,’ said Nugget. ‘You're the crazy mick that we took to the circus and got sprung with, ain't ya?’
‘Sure, a
nd I remember you too. You and that other boy did a bunk.’
Nugget shrugged. ‘Never did figure why you didn't make a run for it like me and Tiddler. What happened to you?’
‘I joined the circus, didn't I?’
‘So that's where you find the midget?’
Paddy looked at Violet, who was busily gathering up the pennies.
‘It's a long story,’ said Paddy. ‘We need to find board and lodgings and I need a job. Got any suggestions?’
‘Cor, that's a long list. I can't see many landladies taking the pair of youse. And a job, you reckon? What's the midget gunna do while you're working? The streets ain't no place for females. The welfare will take her off you quick smart.’
Paddy didn't reply. He didn't know the answer to any of the questions. Nugget scratched his head thoughtfully.
‘ ’Course, you could dump the midget with the nuns. They took me sisters.’
‘We have to stick together,’ said Violet, stamping her foot and glaring at Nugget.
‘Angry little ant, ain't she?’ said Nugget, looking amused.
Paddy ignored them both. ‘do you know any place where we can get some lodgings for tonight?’
Nugget rubbed his chin thoughtfully. ‘there's an old dame up Fitzroy way, Mum Whiteley. She might take you in for a night or two, if she's got room. But it'll cost you.’
‘I don't want any favours,’ said Paddy. ‘I can take care of myself – and the midget.’
21
Mean streets
They walked through the city as the electric street lights flickered, sending an orange glow over the crowds. Violet wasn't excited at the prospect of tagging after Nugget and dragged her heels. On the far side of town they came to a suburb where narrow terraces lined both sides of the street.
‘Do you live up around here?’ asked Paddy.
‘Nah, I'm a free man. I doss down wherever I fancy.’
‘What about your mother and father?’
‘What about them?’ said Nugget, jutting his chin out.
‘Never mind,’ said Paddy. It was exactly the sort of answer he'd give himself.
As they approached the corner of the next laneway, the air was filled with a hum of angry activity. Paddy slowed his pace but Nugget hurried to the corner and gave a shout.
‘Crikey! It's the Fitzroy Push taking on the Carlton mob,’ he yelled, laughing with excitement as a crowd of men came charging up the laneway.
There seemed to be hundreds of them, with faces flushed in fury and breath reeking of beer. Nugget charged into the fray as if he knew exactly what to do, but Paddy grabbed Violet's hand and looked for a way out. Someone tore Paddy's swag from him and flung it into the crowd and when he tried to retrieve it, they were drawn into the thick of the riot.
Men were pulling palings off fences and hitting each other across the head, and some in heavy boots set to kicking their opponents as they fell. Bricks and sharp pieces of blue metal flew through the air. Paddy saw Nugget, armed with a paling, lashing out at a tall larrikin in heavy boots and a tight jacket. Suddenly the larrikin swung to the left and punched Paddy full in the face. Paddy's head jerked back and for a moment everything went white.
Violet screamed and threw herself at the larrikin's leg, sinking her teeth into his thigh. The larrikin looked down in amazement and tried to peel her off, but Violet hung on and bit him even harder. Then the man raised his fist. The punch never landed on Violet. Paddy grabbed her around the waist and pulled her free. The larrikin's fist caught Paddy hard on the cheek. He reeled away, trying to force his way out of the brawl.
The police came charging around the corner, some on horseback and others on foot, swinging their batons.
‘Bloody hell!’ shouted Nugget. He grabbed Paddy's sleeve as he pelted past. ‘Run for it!’
Paddy's lip and nose were streaming blood and his head throbbed with pain but he hugged Violet to his chest and followed Nugget through the rioting crowd. If they kept their heads down, they could just avoid the swing of the officers' batons. Men and boys were running away from the fracas in all directions. Some of the larrikins were being herded into the back of a wagon. Just when Paddy thought they were free, someone grabbed the collar of his coat and wrenched him backwards. Paddy didn't look to see if it was a larrikin or a police officer. Letting go of Violet for a second, he wriggled free of the coat, grabbed her hand, and ran.
They rounded the corner just in time to see Nugget disappearing into a narrow laneway. By the time they caught up with him, Violet was gasping for breath. She crumpled in a heap on the bluestone.
‘Is the midget all right?’ asked Nugget.
Paddy knelt down beside her.
‘Vi?’ he asked. She stopped gasping and started spitting.
‘He tasted horrible,’ she said. She wiped her tongue on the sleeve of her dress and pulled a face. Paddy laughed with relief.
The three of them sat down with their back against the brick wall. Paddy could feel a bruise swelling on his cheekbone and his mouth kept filling with blood.
‘Jesus, mate,’ said Nugget, laughing. ‘What a stoush! Bit of a lark, wasn't it?’
‘No, it wasn't,’ said Paddy. ‘If those coppers had caught us, they would have taken Violet away for sure.’
‘You're right there. The street's no place for little sheilas. Even a dumb mick like you should know that. I s'pose we oughta get you down to Mum Whiteley's, then.’
Paddy groaned. ‘there's no point. I've lost all my money. I can't pay. I've lost everything. My swag, Dai's coat, my wages. Everything.’
Nugget looked from Violet to Paddy pityingly. ‘I can show you a good spot to doss down for the night.’ He led them to a deep set arched doorway at the end of the lane. Inside the doorway was a pile of old newspapers. Paddy rustled the papers into a hollow and then laid extra sheets over Violet as a makeshift cover. He settled down beside her and looked up at Nugget. ‘Are you staying?’
‘There's a two-up game round the corner. Thought I'd see if I can pick up a shilling. I'd have asked you along but you've got the midget and …’ Nugget shrugged.
‘Never mind,’ said Paddy.
‘I'll come by and check on youse in the morning,’ said Nugget, tipping his cap and disappearing into the night.
Next morning, Nugget was as good as his word. He laughed at Paddy's swollen, battered face and pinched Violet's cheek so she spat at him. Nugget took Paddy by the arm and dragged him a little away. He leant close to Paddy.
‘Listen, mate. There's a convent down Albert Park way, right near Stubb's baths. I'm heading down that way meself, meeting some mates for a dip. Why don't you dump the kid with the nuns and join us? You can't go on sleeping rough with her. It ain't right. As I see it, you don't got no choice.’
Paddy looked back at Violet. Her new shoes were already scratched and scuffed, her new dress torn and soiled. He felt more lost in the big city with her than he had in the bush. Wearily, he nodded. ‘Can you lend me the fare?’
The tram stopped right opposite the baths. Nugget led them past families picnicking on the beach road to a long, high wall. Through the gates of the convent was a treeless yard and an austere brick building.
‘Here you go, you poor little blighter,’ said Nugget, grinning at Violet.
Violet started to cry. ‘Now look what you've done. What do you mean, poor blighter?’ said Paddy.
‘I didn't mean no harm. Both me sisters used to be with the nuns. They hated the place. My sisters are Malloys, they couldn't keep their traps shut so they was always getting flogged for something, but your little mouse, she'll be right.’
Paddy knelt down in front of Violet. ‘don't worry, Vi. It won't be for long. When I've found a place for us to live and a job, I'll come back for you. You know I'll come back for you.’
Nugget laughed. ‘they won't let you have her, you mug. They wouldn't let my ma have the girls back and she was their bloody mother. Flo, she turned fourteen last year and they finally let her go. She's down
at the biscuit factory now, so I guess it turned out all right but I'm glad it was her and not me.’
Paddy grabbed Nugget by the front of his shirt and slammed him against the convent wall. ‘Why are you telling me this now!’
‘Easy does it, mate,’ said Nugget. ‘It's only the truth.’
Paddy groaned and let go of the other boy.
‘I can't give her to the nuns, then. I'll think of something else. Something will turn up.’
‘You're cracked,’ said Nugget, straightening his shirt and jacket. ‘Lost all your bloody marbles. I'm going in for a dip, mate. If you fancy joining me, you'd better be leaving the midget with the nuns ‘cause you can't bring her in the baths. Lads only.’ He sauntered across the beach road and disappeared into the crowd.
Paddy stared after him, enviously.
‘C'mon, Violet,’ he said taking her by the wrist and dragging her across the road to the beach. They took off their shoes and paddled in the shallow, cool water. At the deep end of the baths, boys were jumping into the water, shouting with excitement. It seemed like an age since Paddy had played like that.
They spent the whole day on the beach. When the sun got too hot, they sat under the pier. Violet scraped a hole in the sand and then arranged a pattern of shells around it. Paddy sat watching her, brooding. Then Violet began adding other objects to the pattern and Paddy drew closer. Scattered among the shells were pennies. ‘Where'd you find them?’ he asked.
‘You dropped them, yesterday. You let me put them in my pocket, 'member?
Paddy felt a sudden flash of hope as he gathered up the pennies and then his heart sank again. It wasn't enough. It wouldn't even buy them a proper meal. As he knelt beside her, counting up the coins, he noticed another part of the pattern she was weaving. Around the very edge of her castle lay a string of coloured glass beads.
‘Violet,’ he said, grabbing the small girl's wrist. ‘What have you done?’
Violet stared up at him, confused. ‘I don't know.’
‘Those beads.’
This time Violet blushed scarlet. ‘I found them. They were in your pocket. The pocket of the big coat. I found them. They're mine now.’
Becoming Billy Dare Page 12