Gallipoli Street (42 page)

They hoped Mac hadn't noticed how late they were. He had. Rounding through the door he loomed above them and Missy began to tremble next to Theresa.

‘Mac' or Gerome McDougall was a much-feared man in Kings Cross and with good reason. He shoved them both back, pointing his cigar at them over his large protruding belly.

‘What the fuck kind of time d'ye call this?' They flinched at the use of the word they definitely hadn't got used to. The son of Scottish migrants, he had all of his father's temper as well as his reputation for being a ‘hard' man, earning four consecutive boxing titles before turning to nightclub ownership.

‘I'm sorry, Mr McDougall. It was all my fault. The radio…they announced that we are at w-war–' Missy stammered.

‘And what's that t'do with you, y'useless baggage? Get on out there and tell Clements I said t'dock yer pay.' Theresa moved to follow but he held one arm across the doorway, blocking her way.

‘Not finished with ye yet, Princess.' His face contorted into a lascivious leer as he swept his gaze down, taking in her spangled low-cut top and sequined shorts that she wore for that night's new theme, ‘Aladdin's Dream'.

‘Rocco's been asking after ye. Seems to have taken a bit of a shine. Pay him some special attention tonight and I might throw in a bit extra in ye pay.'

‘Yes sir.' She moved to walk on but he stopped her again.

‘And if he's wantin' to take ye upstairs just nod me way and I'll fix ye up.'

‘I told you before, sir, I don't do upstairs.' She felt her palms begin to sweat as he leant in closer, his cigar-ridden breath nauseating her.

‘And I told ye to do as y' told if ye want to keep y' job,' he breathed.

‘In that case I quit.' She met his gaze squarely.

‘Is that so? Well I hope ye friend feels the same way, 'cos ye'll both be out.'

Theresa paused. Missy wanted to keep this job, she knew. It had taken a while to learn how to dance and sing the songs and they'd only been working a few months in this club, which was a big step up from the waitressing they'd done in the early months. She'd quickly come to realise being a showgirl really wasn't for her, but Missy was in her element on stage, her sweet face alight beneath her brown curls. The crowd adored her and she doubted Mac would make good on his threat, especially since Missy had been performing a new popular solo these past few weeks. Then again he had such a hot temper it was difficult to know. She would hate to shatter Missy's hopes.

Maybe Rocco wouldn't ask to go upstairs. Maybe he just wanted some company.

‘Think about it.' Mac dropped his arm, slapping her behind as she left. She almost turned and slapped him back but thought better of it. Rocco was sitting with his cronies and she waved over at him before taking the stage next to Missy, performing the dancing and singing as best she could as her mind raced.

An hour later she was beginning to panic as Rocco pulled her into his lap just as Missy took her place behind the microphone.

His hand grazed across Theresa's chest as he leant in to whisper the words she'd been dreading whilst Missy's words entertained the room.

‘Oh-la-la!' sang Missy.

‘Oh honey, I can't tonight, but Scarlett's free and she'll take real good care of you, if you know what I mean.' She winked. ‘I'll just go and get her.'

‘I didn't say I wanted Scarlett the harlot, I said I wanted you.' He stood and dragged her with him, diving his hand inside her top and she pulled back, slapping him across the face. Mayhem exploded as he stumbled back onto a table, spilling the contents on a very drunk group of bohemian-looking men, who lurched out of their chairs, fists flying. Theresa ducked across the room and grabbed Missy off the stage, pulling her through the crowd as chairs flew, making it outside just in time for Mac to come storming out the other door, narrowly missing them.

‘You'll be sorry for this y'bitches!' he yelled, panting, but they were well down the street by then, still in their costumes, earning catcalls of approval from passers-by. They ran around the corner and down the street to where they knew Rick and Harry lived, running up the stairs, and pounding on the door before falling into their arms, crying.

‘I don't know what I'm going to do now,' Theresa sighed later, after a sniffling Missy had been kissed better by Harry, who had since taken her to his bed. Theresa hoped she was being careful. They'd been lovers for a few weeks and Theresa had given her strict instructions on how to avoid getting pregnant after asking a few discreet questions of Scarlett at the club. Once she would have found it impossible to believe that Missy would even contemplate sex before marriage, but here, where it was so commonplace, it didn't seem the gigantic sin it once had.

‘I wish I could just stay right here.' She curled up against Rick, sighing.

‘So marry me an' live happily ever after.' He swung her onto her back and she looked at him in surprise. Then she laughed.

‘Don't joke. I've lost my job now and I doubt I'll be getting another one easily once Mac has made my name mud,' she said, pulling a face. She had already used up nearly all the money from the sale of her grandmother's ring. She'd hate to have to sell the pearls or the watch.

‘Who says I'm joking?' His face turned serious then as his eyes roamed down her body, taking in every detail revealed by her costume. ‘Y'know I love ya, an' I'm about t' join the army and make a quid. How 'bout it? Let me take care of ya.'

‘When? On leave? Or are you planning on knocking me up before you go and get killed and getting me a pension?' She was serious too now and he reached up and stroked her neck, his fingers moving downwards.

‘I'll come back. Promise. And we'll move out to the country, to where me family is. Have lots of little tykes and I'll getcha a nice little cottage where ya can cook me Sunday roasts and knit me jumpers…' He leant in and kissed her and she melted in to him. ‘I'll plant ya a nice rose garden and the kids can play footy in the backyard…raise a little family of champions all in a row…'

A family. How she'd always longed for it. ‘What about Missy?'

‘She an' Harry can live next door. We'll start a whole footy team!'

Theresa laughed, imagining herself and Missy, living side by side. Raising their families together.

‘Come to bed, love,' he whispered.

‘No…I want to wait…'

He kissed her again and stroked his hand further down and she gasped. ‘Come on.'

Rick picked her up and carried her into the room, like a groom over the threshold, and she giggled, giving in at last as he lay her down. Their bodies entwined in the moonlight that bathed them through the window as Theresa felt the sweetness of touch for the first time in her twenty-five years. Afterwards, as they lay together, he offered her a cigarette and they watched the little trails curl into the silvered night.

‘I didn't know you were a virgin,' he finally said. ‘I woulda thought…'

‘I didn't seem to find the time. Or the man. Until now.' She smiled over at him. ‘Yes, by the way.'

‘Yes what?'

‘I'll marry you.'

The next morning it poured rain and Theresa reached out for Rick to find he was already up.

She put on her clothes, looking forward to seeing him, but walking out into the other room she found only Missy, sitting huddled on the lounge and holding a note, the previous night's make up running down her face.

‘What is it?'

‘They've run off to join the war.' She handed Theresa the sodden piece of paper. ‘And the landlord's been. Seems they left us the bill for three weeks' rent.'

Theresa looked down at her skimpy outfit and thought of the stain on the sheets: it would wash away, but she knew at that moment the stain in her heart would remain as she collapsed onto the chair.

‘Seems like we found ourselves a couple of big leeches after all,' she tried to joke, hiding the pain that threatened to overwhelm her. She thought about his offer to marry her last night and felt a wave of hurt as the betrayal registered in full. He'd tricked her by offering her the one thing he knew she couldn't resist: a family. Despite all the caution, all the waiting, all the warnings, she'd fallen for a conman in the end and lost her soul to the sins of the city. Father O'Brien had been right about her and she felt ashamed of what she'd become. Was this what her grandmother's ring had bought her?

‘What are we going to do?' Missy sniffed, staring at the note.

‘I don't know about you but I could really use a cup of tea.'

They sat on the little verandah of their runaway lovers' flat in Kings Cross, overlooking the artists, the showgirls, the writers and the businessmen as they passed by in the rain.

Theresa and Missy slouched in their matching spangled outfits and drank tea and smoked.

‘Look at us.' Missy flicked at a glittery tassel. ‘We've really become one of them now, haven't we? Fallen women.'

‘Seduced but not conquered,' Theresa reminded her, feeling some of her familiar resolve return. It was true. They might have been foolish but they hadn't betrayed themselves completely. Their newly acquired state of unemployment was testament to that.

‘It's just that it's another world here, isn't it?' Missy sighed, watching a man in a suit carrying a large feathered hat, a tiny dog trotting behind him in a glittery vest.

Theresa gave a short little laugh. ‘The question is who does belong here?'

‘I guess I do,' Missy said thoughtfully after a while. ‘In Kings Cross anything is possible.' She turned to watch a crowd of young men as they sang their way home after an all-night celebration. ‘In a funny way it makes me feel that there is hope; that you don't have to conform and do everything that is expected of you. It's…freeing.'

Theresa dragged on her cigarette. ‘Unless you get trapped. And trouble is it's turning me into someone I don't want to be.'

‘There'll be other fellas.'

‘No, it's not that,' Theresa shook her head, her damp hair sticking to her cheek, ‘I…I don't enjoy it, Missy. The stage, the club. I just feel…on display or something.'

‘But isn't that the point?'

‘Well yes, but that's the problem. I just don't like the way it makes me feel. When…when Rocco grabbed at me last night I panicked, but later I realised he's no worse than a lot of them and it will keep on happening if I work as a dancer. Men see me in a certain way. I guess I look like I would…do that…and I know it's just a stepping stone until we get into bigger things, but I think if I keep doing that I'll…' she searched for the right words ‘…I'll just lose myself.'

‘What are you saying?' Missy asked nervously.

‘Missy, it isn't for me. If there's one thing I've learned here it's that we do have choices now and we are free and this…this isn't my choice.'

Just then the landlord arrived and Theresa and Missy hurriedly donned coats they found in the wardrobe and walked him the few blocks to their flat, paying him the owed rent rather than risking arrest. Missy saw him out and returned to find Theresa packing her belongings into a suitcase, leaving her costumes behind as she went.

‘What are you doing?' Missy watched her fearfully.

Theresa didn't answer, collecting her thoughts then turning and handing Missy the key along with a small box.

‘What is this?' she asked, beginning to cry as Theresa donned the jacket of her only suit.

‘Just something to get you by until you get another job. A much better job,' she replied, unable to look at her face.

‘Where are you going?'

‘Missy, it's over for me. I just can't do it anymore.'

‘But…but what will you do?'

‘As much as I hate to admit it, I really rather liked nursing, believe it or not, and I think…Well I just think it's time to choose what I really want. I'll be needed.'

‘You want to…to go to war?'

‘Well if no one volunteers to patch up all the fool men determined to get themselves shot…' She tapered off as she noted Missy's devastated expression. She was her only true friend and the only family she had ever known. Theresa didn't know how she would be able to leave her, but she knew the time had come.

‘I'm coming with you.'

‘No. I want you to stay and fulfil your dream. Performing is all you've ever wanted to do and I couldn't bear to stand in your way.'

‘But…but this is so sudden. Stay and talk about it at least…'

‘Missy, it's better this way. If we talk about it you'll end up coming with me or I'll end up staying and one of us will always be giving up what she wants for the other. There's nothing here for me…except you. It'll just be for a short while, then we can each settle down with a non-leech and raise kids next door to each other, all right? Oh, come here!'