find other work.’
‘He sounds like a real good bloke.’
‘He is. He kept one horse and dray and sold the rest. For a few weeks he’d leave sixpence on the kitchen table every morning before he went out. One night, he didn’t come home. He was away for two years. Maybe he went bush like you.’
Vivien looked up at the night sky where the stars still flickered in the blackness, drew in her breath sharply then shook away the feeling. ‘Anyway, he came home a few months ago, very ragged and silent. He has awful nightmares.’
Eddie could see how sad she’d become. There be a lot more to her dad’s story. ‘You’ve had it rough. How’re you managin’?’
‘Mum’s very,’ she paused, ‘forceful and determined. I think she saved some money before the business lost its last big contract, just before Helen—my sister, got married. Helen designed all the dresses for her wedding, including a special flower girl’s dress for me. Mum soon had Helen making up more of her designs. She showed them to some of her old friends who were happy to order, Doug’s mother included. They’d all been at the wedding, so they knew Helen’s work. It’s a good business now.’ She smoothed the skirt of her dress. ‘This is one of Helen’s.’
‘Flash, but a bit skimpy.’
‘You sound just like Mum,’ she snapped. ‘There’s a short cape I wear with it. It must be in the club somewhere.’
‘How do they buy the material and stuff?’
‘At first, Mum cut up some of her own stylish clothes, beautiful silks and satins. Helen sketched some designs, mainly evening wear, and made samples. Enough orders come in to keep the business going. The back veranda is stacked with bolts of material.’
Eddie looked impressed. ‘Do you help with the sewin’?’
‘No. Mum said I get in the way, so I was their dressmaker’s dummy for a while, but I fidgeted too much. Mum took me to Grace Brothers and bullied them into giving me a job. I do some modelling there.’
‘Do you like that?’
‘I love the ferry ride, sea air blowing in my face, the shop. Two or three times a week, customers ask me to model clothes for them. They often give me tips.’
‘How old are you?’
‘Eighteen. You?’
‘Twenty-two next month.’
‘Doug just turned twenty-two.’
‘Where did you meet him?’
‘I’ve always known him. We were next-door neighbours. When Mum visited his mother, I tagged along. At Helen’s wedding he showed me how to do the Charleston. I was only twelve, but I think I fell in love with him then. A couple of years ago, he turned up and asked me to go to the pictures with him.’ She paused. Eddie could see her gentle smile. ‘He held my hand in his pocket to keep it warm.’
‘Sounds like some soppy film.’
‘It was romantic. After we’d been out a few times, he kissed me. I thought I’d faint.’
She was stuck on Doug, all right. No hope for Eddie Bertoli there. ‘Gettin’ hitched?’
‘Vivien looked doubtful. ‘I hope so … we’ve talked about it, but he’s still at university.’
‘What’s he studyin’?’
‘Law.’
‘A brain, eh. And he’s lucky ... havin’ a girl like you.’
Vivien flashed a smile at him. ‘His mother thinks I’m not good enough.’
‘How do you know?’
‘By the way she looks at me. Doug’s an only child. When her husband died, he left her a fortune. She thinks she’s better than she is.’
‘You’d make any man proud.’
Vivien squirmed. ‘I should be getting home.’
‘We’ll give it a bit longer. They’re still clumpin’ about. Let’s have a squiz.’
They stood and leaned over the edge of the balustrade and watched police herding people into three black Mariahs. Doug was at the end of one of the lines with Harry and Gladys. Police barked directions, women wept and wailed; men blustered.
Eddie sat and hugged his knees to his chest and Vivien sat beside him. He looked up at the midnight-blue sky where the Southern Cross seemed close enough to touch.
‘Look up, Viv. You can see all the stars this side of the flamin’ world.’
Vivien followed his gaze. ‘There’s a falling one. It’s good luck! Let’s make a wish.’
Eddie looked down at Vivien’s sweet face. She’d be thinking of bloody Doug, her eyes closed, wishing or praying.
She huddled deeper into his coat then smiled at him and said, ‘I’d love to hear what you did on the road?’
He knew she didn’t really care, but it’d pass the time—maybe get his mind off his dick. ‘I’d had some rotten luck in Melbourne when I met a cove called Tom. We went bush, repaired a few fences, bought a couple of rifles, tried shooting wild boar and nearly got killed, so we shot some bunnies and sold them, panned for gold. One day, we ran into a travelling circus. It was pretty shabby. We took a squiz at the side shows: the fat lady, five-legged calves, midgets, a snake charmer, all that. There was this boxing tent with a bloke daring someone to take on Mighty Malone “famous Irish heavyweight.” Mighty looked punchy to me, so when I heard there was a couple of quid for anyone who could go three rounds, I had a go, knocked him out in the first, joined the circus and got top billing The Killer Kid.’
‘What happened to Tom?’
‘Poor bugger. Still trying to strike it lucky, I reckon.’
‘Did you like boxing?
‘Nah. The challengers were usually drunk or stupid, but I had to put on a bit of a show. If one of them looked as if he might have a chance, maybe landed a couple of decent punches, I’d stand back for a sec or two, cool down before letting him have it ...’ Eddie paused. ‘I lost me head a couple of times.’
Vivien imagined what might have happened to the challengers and drew away from Eddie. She swallowed and asked, ‘How long were you with the circus?’
‘Long enough to make a bit of money. I’d get one of the crew to bet on me when the punter was pie-eyed. We’d go halves. Cleaned up that way. I liked the circus crowd—outsiders like me. Sometimes I miss them, but they’re still heading north. I want to get back to Melbourne.’ He laughed. ‘After I left I did a bit more pannin’; found a flamin’ nugget.’
‘So you struck it lucky.’
Eddie was dismissive. ‘A bit. It’s not a real big one, but enough to buy a truck and set up a little business, like a corner shop; so many empty ones, rents’ll be dirt cheap.’
‘Good for you.’ Vivien glanced at Eddie, the way his fair hair was slicked back and how one of his even white teeth was chipped. He caught her glance, leaned towards her, eyes fixed on her face, a hungry look. She pulled his coat closer around her shoulders. ‘It’s quiet now. I’d like to go.’
‘Yeah, I’d better get you home. I’d like to see a bit of Sydney before I leave. A man’s mad to even think it, but … would you do the honours? Maybe show me round?’
Vivien hesitated before answering. ‘Maybe Doug and I could do that.’
As Eddie’s old Buick disappeared in the distance, Doug pulled up, got out of his car and shouted. ‘Where the hell have you been?’
Vivien tossed her head. ‘Hiding from the police.’
Doug