And De Fun Don't Done (65 page)

Norton half rose from the table; his face florid. ‘Alright, Millwood!' he almost screamed. ‘I went to my fuckin'doctor. I said, “Doctor, fuckin'doctor. I feel like a curtain.” He told me to pull myself together. I said, “Doctor, doctor. I'm living on a knife edge.” He said, “Now cut that out.” I said, “Doctor, doctor. I think I'm a billiard ball.” And you know what he fuckin' said, Millwood?'

‘No, Les. What did he say?'

‘He told me to get back to the end of the fuckin' queue.'

‘Ahhh! You're a genius, Les!' howled Millwood, spilling and drinking more bourbon. ‘We're a team, Les. You and me. We'd be a sensation.'

‘Yeah,' nodded Les, his eyes rolling as he shuddered at the thought. ‘Bad luck I'm flying out tomorrow night.'

‘What a waste, Les. What a waste. And we haven't even scratched the surface. Les, how much money do you get if you cross 200 female pigs with 200 male reindeer?'

‘I honestly don't want to know, Millwood.'

‘Four hundred sows and bucks.'

‘Ohh shit!' Norton buried his face in his hands.

‘Les, what do you get if you cross a gorilla with a pavlova? A meringue-utan.'

‘Righto, Millwood!' roared Norton. ‘That's fuckin' it!'

Les shook his two huge fists with rage and was about to reach across the table and start choking the little schoolteacher when one of the biggest men he'd ever seen came lumbering into the bar. He was about six feet four and at least eighteen stone, wearing a pair of jeans and a white Tapper Zukie T-shirt. His hair was cut something like Millwood's on a big square head, under which jutted a big square jaw. Oddly enough he didn't look a day over fifteen. He seemed a little hesitant at first when he came in, then, spotting Millwood and Les, came over. When he saw the state Millwood was in and the look on Norton's face he appeared a little concerned.

‘Are you alright, Mr Downie?' he asked, in a voice almost as deep as his shoulders were wide.

Les tipped this must be the bloke he saw in the car earlier who had brought Millwood in and was taking him home after work.

‘Yeah, he's alright,' said Les. ‘In fact you couldn't have timed it better, mate. He's just getting ready to leave.'

‘Harvey, my boy,' garbled Millwood. ‘How are you?'

‘I'm fine thanks, Mr Millwood. We finished work a little early so I came straight round. But if you want to stay longer I can wait outside in the car.'

‘No. That's okay,' said Les. ‘Mr Downie's got ignition and he's just about ready for lift off.'

‘Harvey, I want you to meet Mr Les Norton. Les, this is one of my star pupils, Harvey.'

‘Hello Harvey,' said Les, half rising from the table. ‘How are you, mate?'

‘Good thank you, Mr Norton,' replied Harvey politely. He wrapped his hand around Norton's like a baseball mitt. ‘Mr Millwood told me about you.'

‘I hope it was all good, Harvey?' replied Les, settling back down with his drink.

‘He's a big lad for sixteen, isn't he?' said Millwood.

‘Sixteen!' Les gave Harvey an astonished once up and down. ‘Shit, Harvey! If ever you want to come to Australia and play football, give me a yell.'

‘Football, no,' said Millwood. ‘Cricket, yes.'

‘Yes, I like cricket, Mr Norton,' rumbled Harvey. ‘Do you?'

‘Do I like cricket, Harvey?' said Les. ‘I don't like cricket. Oh no! I love it. Oh yeah! Shit! Sorry about that, Harvey. Mr Downie's got me a bit drunk.'

Harvey smiled good naturedly. There was a silence for a second or two as Les and Millwood looked at each other across the table. Where he was in a rage of frustration minutes before, Norton suddenly found himself chuckling away. The schoolteacher soon joined in.

‘Well, Millwood,' said Les. ‘It's been a funny old night, mate.'

‘Oh Les, I've had such a good time. The drinks, the meal, everything. I have to thank you.' He reached across the table and shook Norton's hand warmly.

‘Ahh, that's alright, Mill old mate,' replied Les. ‘I've had a pretty good time myself. It's been a bottler. And,' Les held up a finger, ‘I don't want you going away empty- handed either.' Les fumbled into his pocket and pulled out a wad of money. $500 US. ‘There you are, Mill. Buy a few more things for the school. And anything left over, get yourself a new gag writer.'

Millwood looked at the money in his hands and blinked. Even Harvey's eyes bulged. ‘Les, I… I can't take all this.'

‘Ohh, get stuffed, Millwood. What are you talkin' about? Christ! It's only money. It's not an arm or a leg.'

‘Yes, Les. But. I've done hardly anything. A few names and dates on some paper. Nothing.'

A strange gleam suddenly appeared in Norton's eyes, which was accentuated by the craggy, slightly boozy grin beginning to spread across his face. ‘No, Millwood,' he replied, slowly shaking his head. ‘You're wrong. You're wrong, mate. You've been more help than you can imagine.'

Millwood shook his head also. ‘I…?'

‘In fact, Millwood, I've got a feeling you should see me off tomorrow night before I catch my plane.'

‘Oh, Les,' spluttered the teacher, ‘I insist. I'm definitely
coming down to say goodbye to my… my mate from Australia.'

‘Thanks, Millwood. I'd appreciate that.'

‘No problem, Les. It's the least, the very least, I can do.' ‘I'll have to leave here at about six-thirty. The plane leaves at seven-thirty.'

‘I shall be here, Les. No matter what.' Millwood finished the last of his drink and went to get up. ‘Oh dear. Harvey, I think you'd best give me an arm, my boy.'

Harvey took another look at Millwood and a grin formed across his massive jaw also. ‘Sure, Mr Millwood.'

Gently and effortlessly Harvey took Millwood by the elbow, lifted him up and walked him to the balcony. Millwood sucked in some fresh night air, smiled drunk- enly at Les and they shook hands once more. Les shook Harvey's monstrous paw also, farewelled them from the top of the stairs, saying he'd see Millwood tomorrow night. Harvey had parked not far from the entrance, Les watched them get in the car under the slightly amused gaze of Errol standing at the bottom of the stairs, then walked back into the lounge, picked up his bag and walked across to the bar.

‘Okay, Manuel. You'd better give me one for the road, son. A Jack Daniel's and Coke. Heaps of ice and make it a double.'

‘No problem, mon.'

‘Then tell me what I owe you and I'll settle up.' Les shook his head and blinked. ‘Phew! De rum. Im junk yu.'

‘Daht im do, mon,' smiled Manuel. ‘Daht im do.'

Back in his room, Les put his drink on the phone table between the two beds, got down to his jox and splashed some cold water over his face and neck. It was bloody hot and about the only thing the World War One air- conditioner was doing was making noises; Les turned it off, opened his backpack and spread the contents out on one bed, separating the photos. Wha Do Dem's ‘Eek-A- Mouse' came pumping up the wall from next door. A little annoying, but definitely not annoying enough to distract Les from the task at hand. Norton took a sip of
his delicious and figured he was a little drunker than he thought. But nowhere near as drunk as poor Millwood. Maybe it was all the fruit juice Les had downed along with the rum and he pondered for a moment whether switching to Jack Daniel's would pick him up or make him drunker? Who cared anyway. He moved the photos around the bed and checked some of the names and dates on the two papers the schoolteacher had given him, smiling at the Heritage logo on top of the page. Millwood had probably typed them up with official letterheads to give it a little extra touch and it would certainly make a good souvenir when he got back home. Despite his horrible jokes, Millwood certainly was a good little bloke to go to all the trouble he did, considering how busy he was at the moment. One thing for sure, you wouldn't say anything else about Millwood in front of young Harvey. But there was something that drunken schoolteacher had said that didn't make sense. Or maybe it made sense and there was a comparison to something somewhere. A comparison to something that didn't make sense. Les took another sip of bourbon. Doesn't that make a lot of fuckin' sense? Les took another sip and reached for the book of poems. Where's that poem Millwood read out to me? The one about Eduardo porking Elizabeth. Christ! Imagine if Hinch ever found out about this? ‘Priest brainwashes poor defenceless sister and roots her against her will.' He'd go off his brain. Les thumbed through his book till he found the poem then read it several times before tossing the book back on the bed next to the photos. This just doesn't make sense, thought Les, shaking his head. Incest? Not even in my silly bloody family. I remember me and Murray trying to play doctors and nurses when we were kids and we got the shit kicked out of us. By everyone. Sisters, cousins, aunts, uncles, the lot. I didn't think I was ever going to sit down again after Mum and Aunty Daisy got through with me.

Les took another sip of bourbon and returned his gaze to the photos, his jaw now clenched with frustration. What is this fuckin's sheila trying to tell me? The loot's
there. I know it is. But nothing makes sense. Norton scowled down at the photos, almost ready to let go a string of obscenities, when he started to blink. Then he began to blink some more. Wait a minute. Yes it does. Norton picked up one of the photos, stared at it for a moment then picked up the book of poems, read it, then tossed it back on the bed and picked up the photo again. My bloody oath it does. I was right and Millwood was wrong. In a paradoxical sort of way as he said. And what did I say to him? Sometimes you can't see the forest for the trees? Les stared down at the photos and grinned. Well, you can't, can you? Hah! No, you definitely canst not. Norton clapped his hands together hard and loud. Liz, baby, I think I know your little secret. Laughing now, Les pushed four of the photos together. And as for you, Eduardo, you shifty Spanish-named bludger who just happens to look like young Wayne. You're a lot shiftier than even I gave you credit for. But what a good idea. Les laughed and held up his drink. Well, here's to you, Eduardo old son. And you too, Elizabeth. You can fool some of the Nortons all of the time. And all of the Nortons some of the time. But you can't fool all of the Nortons all of the time. Not the Australian branch of the family anyway. And I think I know the whole story too. Les grinned triumphantly and sipped his drink. Then it dawned on him that if he was right he was going to need, if not quite earth-moving equipment, then at least something along those lines. Along with his jubilation Les began to ponder on this new development when there was a knock on the door. Hello, who's this? he frowned, and got up to open the door.

‘Errol? How are you, mate?'

‘Ire mon.'

‘That's good. So am I. What's…?'

‘De two 'oman, Delta and Esme. Dey waitin' down de front wan see yu. Suntin baht de car. I tell dem get laas?' ‘No. No, that's okay, Errol. I'll come down and sort it out.'

‘Ire mon.'

Les was about to close the door and stopped. ‘Hey I'roll. Come inside for a minute. I want to see you about something, mon.'

Les closed the door behind them and had a quiet, friendly chat with the security guard dropping a bit of an Arthur Daley arm around his shoulders at the same time. A few minutes later Errol was $50 US in front, with the promise of another $50 later on.

‘I'll be leaving early and I'll be back in the afternoon. I'm not sure when.'

‘No problem, mon.'

‘Good on you, I'rol. Okay, tell the two lovelies I'm on my way down.'

‘Ire mon.' Errol closed the door behind him.

Beauty, Norton smiled to himself. That sort of settles that. Now I suppose I'd better throw a pair of shorts on and let the two Jamaican princesses have the home unit for the night. Then try and get a good night's sleep myself. Hah! Tony Rebel and Red Rose's ‘No More Gun Talk' came ricocheting up the walls from next door. Don't like my chances.

Esme and Delta were standing with their valuables next to the Honda, under the steady gaze of Errol, when Les came down the stairs. They didn't look in too bad a shape. Fed, sober, they'd even shouted themselves a new plastic shopping bag from somewhere; and they were happy to see Les again.

‘Hello, girls,' he smiled. ‘How's things?'

‘Hi Les,' chorused Esme and Delta.

Their night had been pleasant enough. They'd had a meal down the road, saw a band in a bar, had a few orange juices, walked around. Les told them about Millwood and himself. They'd had a nice meal too, but unfortunately they'd got a little drunk. Then he opened the car door.

‘Listen, if you want any pillows or that see Errol and he should be able to scrounge you some up. He's alright. I'll be down around seven and we'll have breakfast. Then I have to go away for the day.'

Delta wasn't wasting any time. She put her arms around Norton's neck, gave him the sweetest little kiss then jumped in the front, leaving the door open for Esme. Esme stood there for a moment with this strange look on her face. She stepped across in front of Les and pushed her tunti right up against him.

‘Les, why yu no take me upstairs wi yu? No danza. No bandulu. Jus bi wi yu.'

‘Esme,' smiled Les, ‘you're a sweetie. You really are. But I have to get some sleep. I've got a lot on again tomorrow.'

Esme's eyes narrowed a little. ‘Deh suntin' wrong wi me? Mi no good nuff, Les?' She nodded her head slowly. ‘Ya. Ya mon. Mi no good nuff for yu. Daht's it.'

‘Ohh bullshit, Esme. You're the grouse. Fair dinkum, I'd swim across a beach full of bluebottles just to hear you piss in an old hubcap. But I want to be on my own. I have to think about something. Besides, I got a girlfriend back in Australia. What would she think?'