Becoming Billy Dare (19 page)

‘Oh, I don't mean I want to be a bushranger, but I'd like to act at being one. Can you imagine anything grander? Eddie is so lucky.'

‘I'm sorry he never got a proper education. He could have been anything he wanted.'

‘Mum, why don't you like the theatre?'

Bridie laughed. ‘Billy, I love the theatre, it's been my life, but it's an easy world to fall in love with and a cruel trade to live by. I've seen great men end their days with nothing to show for years of hard work. I'm one of the lucky ones. There's always work backstage but since the crash there hasn't been much money in the theatre.

‘It's not like the old days. After the Star closed, that was our theatre in Ballarat, I came to Melbourne with the finest actress of her generation. Amaranta El'Orado, the Songbird of the South they called her. They were heady days. People had more money than sense! When we were at the Princess Theatre there'd be hundreds of miners throwing nuggets as big as walnuts onto the stage. I'd run out and gather them up and then Amy and I would put them in the safe. All that gold and all that splendour, all gone now.'

Bridie put her coffee cup back on the stall and gazed down Bourke Street with a faraway look in her eyes.

Paddy tried to imagine a stage littered with gold nuggets. But more exciting than the prospect of riches was the vision of a crowded theatre full of cheering people. He longed to be the person at centre stage. He had promised Violet that one day he'd be watching her from the front row of a theatre. How much better would it be if she returned to discover that Paddy had become Melbourne's idol, so that together they could bask in the limelight.

25
Where in the world

On a bright winter afternoon, Eddie came back early from the city and sat in the dining room with an open bottle of whiskey and a glass before him. Bridie loaded up a basket with jam and bread and tied her bonnet on.

‘Are you coming along then, Eddie?'

‘Not bloody likely. Don't think you can trick me into visiting that old witch again,' he said.

‘She's been good to both of us, Eddie.'

‘Get that little bludger Nugget to go with you, if you want company. She's his grandmother, not mine.'

‘Never mind,' said Bridie. She hoisted the basket onto her arm.

‘I'll come,' said Paddy.

‘You don't even know where she's going!' snorted Eddie. ‘then again, I suppose you're the sort that would find a lunatic asylum amusing.'

‘I like to help,' said Paddy, picking up her basket. ‘Not like some.'

They took two trams, first the cable tram and then one drawn by horses to the Princess Street hill in Kew. The Metropolitan Asylum for the Insane was a huge, ornate building, like a palace, with a great tower at each end rising above the surrounding bush.

‘It's so grand,' said Paddy, wonderingly.

‘From the outside,' said Bridie, ‘but God preserve us from ending up in such a place.'

The gatekeeper let them in, and they took the path up to the office. Paddy signed a leather-bound book with his own and Bridie's names, and they went through into an open quadrangle lined with long verandahs.

Bridie knocked on the door of one of the rooms before opening. Inside was dark and there were several beds along one wall. There was a constant drone from one of the patients, and Paddy felt his heart grow tight in his chest.

The woman in the bed was so withered and crone-like that Paddy could hardly believe that she was the same age as Bridie. Her pale blue eyes had a frost of white across the irises. She looked at Paddy, as he shifted the basket uncomfortably from one arm to the other.

‘Who's that? Is that your Tom you've brought, or is it his boy? Who is it, Bridie?' she demanded.

‘No, Biddy. He's an orphan lad. Patrick Delaney, from County Clare. But we call him Billy.'

‘Handsome. You always have a handsome lad with you, Bridie.'

Just then, a nurse put her head around the door and gestured for Bridie to come and speak with her.

‘Where's she gone now, Eddie?' said Biddy.

‘I'm not Eddie,' said Paddy.

‘No, that Eddie's a scoundrel. Born a scoundrel,' said Biddy, shaking her head knowingly. ‘You're not Nugget. Too handsome to be a Malloy. Maybe you're Brandon. Aye, that's who you must be, Brandon.'

Paddy laughed. ‘I'm called Billy – not Brandon. But sure you're right about Eddie. A scoundrel and a lazy bugger.'

‘Too much heart and not enough commonsense, that's our Bridie, especially when it comes to Eddie,' said Biddy. ‘she was always a soft-hearted fool, that Bridie. Here she comes a-visiting me, after all these years. She watches out for old Biddy Ryan.'

Biddy laughed, a coarse high cackle like a wild bird. She strained to sit up and Paddy saw that she was strapped to her bed. He looked around helplessly, not knowing if he should do something, and was relieved to see Bridie come back into the room.

‘You take yourself out, Billy. I'll join you shortly.'

Biddy was writhing, hitting out with her hands as if pushing away invisible assailants. Mum stepped forward and held her wrists, gently coaxing her to lie still.

Paddy stepped out into the quadrangle and realised he was trembling. He wished he hadn't come. An old man stood on the end of the verandah weeping, until a nurse came and took him inside. Another man strode back and forth across the green, pacing like a caged tiger and muttering to himself.

Paddy ran to where the grounds gave way to thick bush, to a high point overlooking the golden river. Through the trees, he could see the dome of a distant cathedral. It looked so out of place in this wild, pale gold landscape. The cry of a bird whipped through the air and echoed off the water. He lay back in the long grass and thought of the Burren, of the way the wind moved across that landscape, how the air was always full of rain, not like this dry, light wind full of sun. He didn't hear Bridie approaching. She set her basket down in the grass and sat beside him.

‘She's a mad old thing, you mustn't mind what she says, Billy.'

‘Who was Brandon and why did she think I looked like him?'

Bridie looked startled. ‘Brandon! Why, she never even met him, the silly old fool. When we were young, I talked of him often enough. Brandon was my truest, dearest brother that I left in Ireland many long years ago. I made a promise to him which I haven't been able to keep and it haunts me to this day.'

‘Why don't you write him a letter and explain why you couldn't?' asked Paddy.

Mum sighed. ‘I wouldn't know where in the world to send it.'

They walked in silence down the hill from the asylum. The horse-drawn tram moved slowly towards town. Paddy leant against the railing and stared at the silhouette of the city, dark against the winter sky. Where in the world was Violet? Would he ever be able to keep his promise to her?

Bridie had some shopping to do before she went back to Charity House, so Paddy went home alone. He was hoping that Eddie would have headed out for the evening. Ever since
The Kelly Gang
had finished, Eddie had had too much time on his hands. Before he'd even opened the gate, Paddy knew Eddie was still at home. He could hear the man roaring from out in the street. When he slipped through the front door, he heard the sounds of crashing crockery and furniture being overturned. Paddy pushed open the door to the dining room.

‘What the hell do you think you're up to?' he said.

‘Are you talking to me, runt?' shouted Eddie Whiteley. He was standing in the middle of the room amongst the mess, swaying.

‘That's Mum's good china! You bloody drunken idiot!'

Eddie Whiteley snorted. ‘Who are you, anyway? What right do you have to talk to me like that? A snivelling little charity brat.'

‘I earn my keep, which is more than you do.'

‘Shut up, useless little snot-rag. She keeps you busy with useless errands. Useless, useless little arse-worm,' he said, the words slurring together.

Paddy clenched his fists and was ready to take a swipe at Eddie when Mum came into the dining room. She took in the situation at a glance.

‘Come with me, Eddie,' she said, taking his arm. ‘You need a cup of coffee to settle you.' Grumpily, Eddie allowed her to lead him to the door.

‘Billy, will you please set this room to order?' she said over her shoulder.

Paddy stared at her, wild with disbelief. ‘No!' he shouted. ‘Why doesn't he clean it up? It's his mess! Or better still, why don't you tell him to clear off? Why don't you make him go!'

‘Billy, you know this house is always open to you, but this is Eddie's home.'

She turned and left the room with Eddie. Paddy stared after them for a moment, then wrenched open the door and ran down the stairs, away from Charity House.

26
Taking chances

For the next few days, Paddy slept on the streets, finding shelter in doorways or under bridges. Sometimes in the early morning there was a chill in the air that made Paddy dread another night sleeping rough. During the day, he scavenged for food and kept out of the way of the police. There were other boys and men living on the streets and sometimes the police arrested them for vagrancy but Paddy had picked up a thing or two from Nugget. He knew how to make himself scarce.

He was sitting on the steps outside the Public Library waiting for it to open when he spotted a familiar figure hawking newspapers on the corner. Nugget took the steps two at a time and sat down next to Paddy.

‘I never thought I'd see you doing an honest day's work,' said Paddy.

Nugget laughed. ‘No worries. Nothing honest about this caper. They're last week's news. Found ‘em in a lane-way. Soon as anyone buys one, I do a bunk. Like you. I hear you done a bunk, or did you let that scumbag Eddie Whiteley throw you out?'

‘Did he tell you he threw me out?' asked Paddy angrily.

‘Nah, but it wouldn't be the first time. Mum's taken in strays before and Eddie likes to make it difficult for them. Didn't think you'd give up so easily. How long you been sleeping rough?'

‘Five days now,' said Paddy, rubbing his back where the step had cut into him. ‘And I haven't given up. I needed time to think.'

‘Mum put the word out she's looking for you.'

Paddy put his head in his hands. ‘I don't want to sponge off her the way Eddie does.'

‘You was pulling your weight,' said Nugget.

‘She got by fine before I turned up. I have to find a proper job and pay for my lodgings. I want to help her out like a man, not an errand boy.'

‘I could have a word with me uncle and you could do some cockatoo work for him, running bets for the tote.'

Paddy laughed. ‘that's your line of work, not mine. If I can't get work in a theatre, maybe I'll go bush.'

‘That's not going to help old Mum Whiteley. Besides, you'll starve in the country just as quick as here. Beggars can't be choosers, mate. If it's the theatre you want, you oughta get back to Charity House. Someone around there could put you in the way of a job. No one's gunna take you on if you're living on the streets.'

Paddy sighed and took one of the newspapers from Nugget, smoothing the printed page out before him. ‘But if I do go back, what am I going to do about Eddie? I can't stand being around the place with him out of work. Why does Mum put up with him?'

‘Dunno. She was married to his old man once, but Eddie's ma was someone else, an actress. Mum never had any kids of her own. My ma used to reckon that's why she liked me, ‘cause she didn't know what stinkers boys really are.' Nugget laughed. 'mum don't have no blood kin. That's why she and my gran were cobbers. They came out on the boats together.'

‘But she does have blood kin. She has a brother.'

‘Get out! Where is he? Ireland?'

‘I suppose he's still there. I wish he'd come and throw Eddie out on his ear. If Mum had a real relative, then she wouldn't put up with Eddie.'

Slowly, an idea started to form in Paddy's mind. He traced his finger along the columns of print. Whenever Paddy read the papers to Bridie she always liked him to read out the advertisements. She especially liked him to read the personal columns, the people who were looking for wayward husbands, old acquaintances, missing children.

‘Nugget, will you stake me a shilling?'

‘A whole deaner? What for?'

‘I need to buy paper and ink and some stamps. I'm going to write to the newspapers in Ireland. I'm going to put an advertisement in to find Mum's brother.'

‘What? Put a notice in? You have to pay for that too.'

‘Maybe. I'll convince them it's for a good cause.'

‘What a dreamer! Even if you did find him, he's not gunna come all the way across the world to turf Eddie out on his ear.'

‘Well, I'm going to try,' said Paddy stubbornly. ‘I want to do something for Mum.'

‘He's probably six feet under. Waste of dosh, if you ask me,' said Nugget, but he reached inside his jacket pocket and pulled out two sixpences all the same.

Paddy spent the rest of the day sitting in the reading room of the big city library, carefully composing some letters. He finished the first one and copied it out twice, addressing the envelopes to newspapers in Dublin, Belfast and Cork. As he tipped the clutch of letters into the post box, he felt as if he was a spinner, having just tossed the pennies in a game of two-up. The coins were in the air and no one could know where they would land.

Bridie ladled a spoonful of thick soup into Paddy's bowl and set it down in front of him, along with a cup of sweet black tea.

‘I'm glad you came back, Billy.'

‘I'm sorry for causing you worry. I've done a lot of thinking. I like living with you, Mum, but I can't just be running errands for my keep. I have to do more.'

‘You're right there, Billy. You need to be thinking about your future, and I know someone who can help you. I spoke to him on the telephone from the post office this morning. He wants to meet you.'