Jack & Harry (5 page)

‘Nothin' on me but I've got a few bob in me moneybox at home. Four bob or thereabouts.'

‘Four Bob have ya? I've got about five or six bob saved up at home.'

‘Ten bob isn't much to run away with, Jack, what can we do?'

‘Don't know, Harry.' Jack shook his head despondently. ‘We'll think of somethin' though … got to.'

Jack yawned and stretched.
Another day, Monday already,
he thought. It took a while for it to dawn on him that things had changed, it wasn't
just
another Monday. As the memory of the weekend started to flood back there was a vague feeling of uneasiness and Jack realised that things would never be quite the same again. He couldn't put his finger on it but knew in his inner being that life had changed for him and Harry … forever!

‘You awake, Harry?' Jack leaned over to the single bed beside him and gave Harry's inert shape a nudge.

‘What?' Harry sputtered and sat bolt upright in bed. ‘What? … Oh, g'day, Jack, musta been dreamin'.'

‘What about?'

‘Oh nothin' really. What's the time?'

‘Time to get up and get ready for school.'

‘School?' Harry paused and looked around him, ‘Oh, yeah, it's Monday but what about our plans from last night, you know … runnin' away and all? You still game, Jack?'

‘Not a matter of
game
, Harry, it's a matter of
have to.
' said Jack
.

The boys dressed quickly and went to the kitchen where they could smell bread toasting.

Jack's mother had eggs cooking in a pan and was busy at the bench buttering toast. ‘Morning, boys. You're up nice and early.' She looked at Harry. ‘Normally I have to wake Jack up on a Monday.' She laughed and continued, ‘but that's good, you boys can finish off your lunches while I make some sandwiches for the kids and get their school books ready.' She went off down the hallway calling to her younger children.

She returned to the kitchen to find Jack and Harry sitting at the table staring into space. ‘What's up with you kids? You haven't even started on your sandwiches.' She sounded irritated.

‘Sandwiches?' said Jack. ‘Oh, sorry, Mum, just tired I guess. We'll get on with them now. Harry, wanna give me a hand? Get the vegemite out of the fridge will ya, mate?'

‘You OK, Jack?' Alice was concerned at his vagueness. He just didn't seem to be himself. ‘Something on your mind, son?'

‘Nothin', Mum, I'm all right.' Jack glanced at Harry who stared at the table.

‘Come on, son, you aren't telling me everything, I can see there's something heavy on your mind … is it the bike thing?'

‘Yes, Mum, it is.' Jack became animated, his arms flailing the air in exasperation. ‘It's that bloody Billy Munse and his lies and …'

Alice interrupted. ‘Jack! You know I won't have swearing in this house.'

‘Sorry, Mum, but it gets me so mad to think that that mongrel Billy can lie about me and Harry and get away with it and we could end up goin' to jail just because he lied and everyone believes him and not us.' It was a long sentence from Jack.

‘Jack.' His mother reached out putting her hand on his shoulder. She wanted to hold him in a close hug but knew better than to embarrass him with Harry in the room. ‘Just stick to the truth, son. The truth always wins out you know.'

Jack threw a look over the table at Harry who was still engrossed in the tabletop. Jack didn't want to alarm his mother any further by telling her that Billy Munse's dad had apparently found witnesses to say they stole the bike.

‘I'm sure it will all be all right, boys; your father thinks so too, Jack. Just forget about the bike and Billy Munse and his pompous father and concentrate on your lessons. Dad will be back on Wednesday and he'll sort a few things out. Don't forget though that the constable will be around after school to talk with you so as I said before …just stick to the truth. You better go straight home after school today, Harry, so the constable can see you too.'

The hours dragged on through the morning. Neither Jack nor Harry could concentrate on any schoolwork, enduring the lessons as they thought through plans for their departure to discuss with each other at the lunchtime break.

During lunch they moved away from the main body of milling students to a remote corner of the schoolyard where they sat on the ground in the shade of a peppercorn tree to eat their sandwiches. It may have been their imagination but they were sure everybody was sniggering at them. It didn't help when a crowd of boys and girls with Billy Munse in their centre laughed and pointed at them.

‘I'm gonna kill that Billy.' Jack started to stand up.

‘No, Jack, not now.' Harry grabbed his shirt. ‘It'd only make matters worse. We'll get him though, don't worry about that.'

‘Yeah, guess you're right. We gotta concentrate on our plans. How we gonna do it? We only got ten bob between us and we'll need a lot more than that to get to Coober Pedy.'

‘I looked it up in the atlas this morning, Jack; Coober Pedy, it's in South Australia … in the outback.'

‘Good! They'll never find us there.'

The three o'clock bell eventually rang marking the end of the school day. Planning to meet down at the creek later in the afternoon after the policeman had been around for his statements, each boy hurried home. They were eager to avoid any contact with Billy Munse or have to field accusations from many of the other kids who took delight in stirring for any reason.

Constable Bob Peters carefully questioned the boys about the Saturday incident and wrote down their statements. As they were telling the truth their accounts of the incident didn't vary all that much from each other's and the constable knew in his heart that they were innocent but maintained an impartial attitude. When he finally closed his notebook at the Ferguson's, put it in his tunic pocket and left, Jack headed off to the creek, telling his mother that he was going to meet Harry to see what the policeman had said to him.

‘Don't be late home, Jack, you know how I worry and tea will be ready soon.'

The boys sat beside a river gum and threw stones into the creek. No yabbie fishing today as they had too much to discuss and plan.

‘OK!' Jack got down to business. ‘We decided then? We're gonna go to Coober Pedy?'

‘Nothin' else for it, Jack, but we need more money; any ideas?'

‘We got ten bob between us and if we can convince our mums to give us some lunch money, say two bob, that'll be fourteen bob.'

‘Not enough, Jack. That's only pennies and we need to get hold of more. A quid won't get us as far as Northam let alone Coober Pedy.' Both boys were silent, staring into the sluggish moving water at their feet.

‘Jack?' Harry turned to him. ‘What was the name of that horse your dad said'll win the Melbourne Cup?'

Jack pondered for a second. ‘Comic Court,' he said. ‘Yeah, that's it, Comic Court.'

‘Let's have a bet on it then.'

‘Need lots of money to bet on a horse though don't ya?'

‘Nah.' Harry sounded knowledgeable. ‘My dad's only havin' ten bob on Chiquita so we'll put ten bob on Comic Court. If it wins we'll have heaps of money.'

‘What if it loses?' Jack threw in a negative.

‘Won't make a lotta difference, Jack, we haven't got enough to run away with now so if it loses we'll just have to think of somethin' else. Worth a chance though, but.'

‘OK let's do it! Better get home now as we don't want anyone gettin' suspicious. See ya tomorrow and don't forget to get some lunch money from your mum.' They shook hands solemnly to seal their agreement.

Tuesday, November 7, 1950, Melbourne Cup day. The Melbourne Cup was an institution when almost the whole nation came to a standstill to listen to the race on the wireless. Workplaces downed tools, schools suspended classes and people who never bet on horses had a small wager either at courses around the country that held race meetings, with the SP off-course bookmakers or in office sweeps.

Jack met Harry as normal but instead of going to school they went down to the creek to count up their money and plan a strategy for getting a bet on Comic Court for the afternoon's race at Flemington in Melbourne.

‘Got the extra money, Harry?' Jack pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and undid the knot that secured his small change. ‘I told Mum we needed to buy lunch as we had swimming practice at the baths.' He held up a pair of togs and a towel he took from his school bag. ‘Had to bring these,' he laughed.

‘Mum could only spare one and sixpence, Jack, so I got five and six so with your seven bob we got twelve and sixpence. How we gonna get a bet on, Jack? We can't go to the bookie ourselves.'

‘No, we'll go down to the Exchange and try to find someone who we can trust to put it on for us.'

‘Bit of a risk.' Harry was thoughtful. ‘But it's the only way I suppose.'

The boys wasted time playing around the river until about ten thirty then walked down the main street and waited outside the Exchange Hotel trying not to look conspicuous. It was common knowledge that, although illegal, the SP bookie operated out of the pub on race days. Many people were going in and coming out of the main bar entrance so they knew that the bookie must be working from there.

‘Gotta pick an honest lookin' fella, Harry, what about him?' Jack indicated a small man dressed in work clothes wearing a tweed cap walking toward the pub entrance.

‘No he looks a bit shifty, Jack. How 'bout him?' They looked at the well-dressed man who had just parked his car and was crossing the road toward where they were standing.

‘You go, Harry.' Jack held out the cash.

‘No way, you do it.' Harry was nervous and looked to Jack as if he was about to turn tail and run.

‘Excuse me, mister.' Jack stepped up to the man as he stepped onto the footpath. The man hesitated then stopped, looking quizzically at Jack with Harry standing behind him.

‘Me dad's sick in bed and asked me if I could find someone to put a bet on the cup for him … could you help?' Jack showed the man the money in his hand.

‘Did he now?' The man stared hard at Jack who shifted uneasily under his gaze. ‘And what horse did he want a bet on?'

‘He gave me a note.' Jack pulled a piece of crumpled paper from his pants pocket that he and Harry had composed and written at the creek that morning.

‘Ten bob on Comic Court eh?' The man glanced at the note, a smile edging his mouth.

He examined the note again then looked at each of the boys in turn. Jack felt his stomach tighten as he waited expectantly.

‘All right then, wait here a minute.' He took the money from Jack's hand and walked into the bar.

‘Pheww.' Jack let out his breath. ‘I thought he was onto us, Harry.'

The boys paced up and down outside the hotel feeling self-conscious but after about ten minutes the man emerged and walked over to them. ‘Here you are, son.' He held out a betting ticket.

‘Thanks, mister. Dad'll be happy about that.' Jack reached for the ticket the man held.

‘Will he now?' The man glanced at Harry, then back at Jack. He held the ticket firmly as Jack took hold of it.

‘Today you will learn a big lesson in life, boys.' He still held the ticket as Jack looked at Harry who again appeared like he was ready for flight. ‘Betting is a mug's game, son, and that horse has no chance of winning so you lose ten hard-earned bob but that'll make you think twice about doing it again.' He let Jack take the ticket, grinned to himself and walked off to his car.

The boys crept close to the bar window to listen to the race on the wireless that was blaring inside the pub. They knew the cup was about to begin when the hubbub of voices died down, then there was a shout and they were off in the 1950 Melbourne Cup.

Soon there was enthusiastic shouting as people in the bar began to urge their horse on and the boys had some anxious moments, as they couldn't make out the caller's voice over the noise. Then they heard it … clear as a bell. ‘Down the straight and it's Comic Court. Comic Court takes the lead, it's Comic Court coming to the post. Comic Court wins the Melbourne Cup.' The rest of the broadcast was drowned by shouts from within the bar.

Harry looked at Jack, a huge smile on his face. ‘We've done it, Jack.' They grabbed each other by the shoulders and started to dance around in a circle oblivious now to the stares of people passing by them.

‘We've done it, we've done it!' They chanted. ‘We're on our way.'

While they were exuberantly leaping around, a middle-aged shabbily dressed man stepped from the bar and eyed the two youngsters. ‘You two look happy.' His voice was slurred. ‘Anyone'd think you'd backed the winner,' he chuckled.

‘We did!' Jack replied then quickly corrected himself. ‘Well … me dad did.'

‘Lucky bugger!' The man stood unsteadily before them. ‘I lost the lot and I'm broke, can't even buy m'self another beer.'

Jack looked at Harry who shook his head but Jack turned to the man. ‘Would you like five bob, mister?'

‘How would you have five bob?' His eyes had trouble focusing.

‘Me dad's sick at home and another bloke put the money on Comic Court for us … er, for Dad.' Jack held out the betting ticket. ‘If you could collect the winnings for us …'

Harry interrupted. ‘As we can't go into the bar.'

‘Dad said whoever did us a favour, to give them five bob,' Jack continued.

‘Well five bob's five bob, more than I got now. I'll collect it for you.' He took the ticket from Jack.

‘We'll be right here, mister … waiting.' Harry tried to sound as grown up and menacing as possible.

‘Don't worry! I won't run off with your dough, tempting as it is.' He gave a wry smile then walked unsteadily into the bar as Jack and Harry waited anxiously for him to return, hoping they hadn't made a mistake in their choice of courier. The man didn't notice the relief on their faces as he came out of the bar some time later and walked over to them.