In Lonnie's Shadow (12 page)

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Authors: Chrissie Michaels

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Genre Fiction, #Coming of Age, #Teen & Young Adult, #historical fiction

BOOK: In Lonnie's Shadow
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BROWN PAPER

Item No. 4642

Shopkeeper’s brown paper used for wrapping goods.

On Daisy’s return to the Leitrim she found a package had been left for her with the publican. She waited until she was in her room away from prying eyes to open it. Sitting on her quilted bed, she undid the brown paper. Inside was a mass of crumpled pink fabric, torn around the neckline and muddied around the hem. Spread out on the beautiful quilt it resembled the trawled-up remains of a once glorious sea creature.

‘And she calls herself a lady,’ Daisy said fiercely, at the very thought of returning a dress to anyone in such a shabby condition. Her eyes drifted across to Rose Payne’s blue silk dress, which was draped neatly over the chair, having been lovingly repaired, sponged, dried and pressed. She rolled up her sleeves and lit another candle end. There was stitching to be done if she was to have this working dress ready in time for Madam Buckingham the very next morning. So much for Lonnie and his promises. He’d sworn

the dress would be returned safely, but he had let her down.

In the early hours, there was a frantic thumping outside her room and the call of ‘Police raid, open up.’

‘Not again, Lonnie,’ she complained through the door. ‘I’m dog tired. This isn’t funny!’

‘Open up, Daise, can’t you take a joke? I’ve come to tell you some news.’

Daisy gruffly let him in, flicking her plaited hair off her shoulder. ‘You’ve been drinking! You’re a disgrace!’

Lonnie rolled his eyes, trying in vain to stop his words slurring. ‘Settle down, you should be more free and easy like Pearl. For starters, reckon I’ve a new job at the Glen. What d’ya think about that?’

‘If they see you in this state you won’t last an hour.’ She frowned. ‘What do you mean, “like Pearl”?’

‘Nothing.’ Something in Lonnie’s mind cautioned him it would not be a good idea to describe how on their return from Golden Acres the two of them had festively drained the last bottles of wine and then tossed the empties one by one into the old cesspit, loudly singing ‘Around the Rick’ until the shrieks of a neighbour sent the duo scarpering off in different directions. He wasn’t sure how he’d ended up at Daisy’s. ‘Just thought you’d like to celebrate, too,’ he finished off lamely.

‘I wish you’d act your age.’ She picked up the dress that Rose Payne had sent back and held it out. ‘Do you realise what state this was in when your lovely lady friend sent it back?’

Lonnie tried to focus, but all he saw was a pink haze. ‘What’s wrong with it?’

‘Not a thing now! Since I spent the entire night repairing and cleaning it. You promised me!’

‘Sorry, Daise,’ muttered Lonnie, although he was not quite sure what he had to be sorry about.

‘That’s not good enough. It’s not about the dress. Look at you. Look at what you’ve done lately. Just what were you thinking of drinking until this hour? Not to mention last week, getting mixed up with the Push and, worse, Billy Bottle. You know he beats his chest whenever he cuts people and he does it just for fun.’

‘Why are you harping on about that? I was only riding the lift.’ Lonnie’s stomach rushed sickeningly into his mouth. If only the room would stop swaying. He tried to steady his feet against the next wave of nausea.

‘Did you get in the same way as before? It’s the police who’ll be thumping at your door and dragging you off to gaol for breaking and entering.’ Daisy was just warming up. ‘And with Rose Payne of all people? Do you want to get yourself killed? You don’t mess around with Henry Payne, especially not with his precious little girl. Not to mention how you’ve been stealing goods and smashing windows like a larrikin.’

‘According to the likes of Payne anyone from Little Lon is a thief and a vandal.’

‘And you’re doing your very best to prove him right. Just how stupid are you? People talk. Everyone knows you were chased by his watchman, that bully who comes along with the bailiff to scare the wits out of people every time they fall behind with their rent.’

‘Sometimes folk should keep their mouth shut.’ The effect of the drink had turned Lonnie’s mood sullen.

‘Are you, or are you not the one who robbed

Payne’s house in broad daylight?’

‘It wasn’t like that.’

‘I know you did it. I’ve known for ages. I dropped by your mam’s ages ago and she told me everything.’

‘Cut the claptrap, Mam doesn’t know.’

‘’Course she does!’

Lonnie tried to unravel all the accusations Daisy was levelling at him. Come to think of it, his mam had been very quiet since the night Tilly did her moonlight flit, as if she were waiting for Lonnie to start a conversation. His mam could do that sometimes when she had a bone to pick. Keep silent, go for days waiting for him to admit whatever she thought he had done wrong. That silent treatment could be much worse than any screaming or yelling or clip around the earhole. And his mam only brought it into play for the most serious of things. She must’ve found the watch.

Daisy was shaking her head fit to snap it off. ‘But what I really don’t understand is why you weren’t content to take the stuff and sneak off. But no, you couldn’t help yourself. You had to smash those windows as well. Don’t think I haven’t heard. That’s what larrikins do. Tell me, what does it feel like to be Billy Bottle? Does it make you feel big?’

‘I told you before it wasn’t like that. Wasn’t broad daylight for a start; it was evening. And I didn’t steal anything. I just took things back for their rightful owners when no one was looking.’ Lonnie had enough wits about him to know how he was sounding. Like a tacker who’d been caught out. He didn’t mean to sound peeved, but all the same he wished Daisy would stop acting like his mam.

‘This is serious. If Payne has proof, he’ll put you in gaol.’ She eyed him squarely in the face, still persisting, ‘I can start to understand the theft. I guess men like Henry Payne deserve all they get for taking people’s belongings unfairly, but the law’s on their side. You can’t be Robin Hood, robbing the rich to give to the poor, even if you mean well. Smashing those windows was a senseless act. It’s time to stop playing the fool. You have to be responsible or one of these days you’ll find yourself in terrible trouble. And another thing, what will your mam say if she knows you’re betting on a street race?’

Lonnie shook his head miserably. Was there anything she didn’t know? He had a sudden urge to go home for a sleep, for a bit of peace and quiet.

‘If she knows you’re gambling all that hard- earned money on the outcome of a horse race … recklessness and gambling?! What are you turning into?’

Daisy was a no-nonsense girl, never one to avoid the truth. But tonight she had a sting in her tongue and her demand for honesty was too much for him. He could hear his own sarcastic tone before it left his mouth, regretting the words, but unable to stop.

‘Better get your friends the Sallies to pray a bit harder for me and stop behaving like you’re my mother. Come to think of it, you should be a better friend yourself.’ Why did she have to go and put him in such a dark mood when he had only wanted to do a bit more celebrating?

‘What do you mean?’

‘What I mean is – Pearl lying for so long, sick as a dog, who knows where, and no one, not even her best friend, there to give a helping hand.’ He saw Daisy’s face pale over. It was a low comment. Daisy did not deserve such a cut. ‘Aw, I didn’t mean that, don’t be mad at me, Daise. You’re Pearl’s best chum. And look at how you helped Rose. I only came here because I was in the mood for a bit of cheer. And to thank you,’ he added, trying to make amends.

‘There’s nothing to thank me for. I’d have done it for anyone.’ Daisy’s sorrowful expression plainly made it known to Lonnie how upset she was. ‘You better make sure Rose gets this back in one piece,’ she said flatly. ‘Here, let me fold it.’ She laid the blue silk dress in tissue and brown paper, folding the edges carefully and binding it with string as a carry-all.

‘Don’t ruin it beforehand.’

‘Rose will be ever so grateful.’ Lonnie accepted the parcel, ready to do a runner. ‘Time I went.’ It was a miserable and sorry goodbye. All the girls he’d been mates with were starting to turn on him. He didn’t know which way was worse, first Rose’s grim silence, then Pearl’s flirting and mucking about, now Daisy’s telling off. There was only one left, his mam. Today of all days he would have to face her and square up about the watch, when he believed deep down it was really him who needed the explanation.

Daisy closed the door behind him, knowing her words had been harsh. Lonnie always rushed through life like a shooting star. Hadn’t she told him often enough! And like that star, one day he would come back down-to-earth. In the meantime she wondered what other reckless acts he would find himself caught up in. Why, he was nearly seventeen: he should start acting more like a man. She wanted him to do so, for her sake as well. When would he realise how soft- hearted she was for him?

As for Pearl, Daisy was full of self-reproach over her friend. She prided herself on being pure and honest to even the smallest creature, yet had broken pledge after pledge to follow up on the wellbeing of her dearest friend. When all along Pearl had been lying ill in some stranger’s bed with not a soul to feed her broth or wipe her forehead with cold compresses. The fact Pearl must have confessed these hurt feelings to Lonnie rather than to her, made Daisy’s guilt even more overwhelming.

Wonderful. Insufferable. Nearly seventeen? ‘Oh, Lonnie, that’s why you were out celebrating. It was your birthday!’ With a sudden realisation of the date, she leant her head against the door. And in the long silence that followed, Daisy gave in to her tears, letting them fall down her cheeks unchecked.

FRAZER’S SULPHUR POWDERS’ BOX

Item No. 368

Box for holding Frazer’s Sulphur Powders. Medicinal. Promoted as good
for the purity of blood.

As Lonnie stumbled through the front door, a damp grey draught followed him inside. He wondered if his da had slipped in as well, to take a squiz at how things were going in the old family home. By the looks of it, he wouldn’t be too pleased. You shoulda got better, Da, he thought miserably. He swallowed hard, but the lump in his throat would not budge. The long night and the grog had sapped his energy. His head was thumping. All he wanted to do was climb into his bed and have a kip.

His mam sat wrapped in a woolly blanket, fast asleep in her armchair by the hearth. Before the draught could reach any deeper into her bones he eased the door closed. Her head had keeled over, leaving her chin propped up by her chest. She must have been sitting there waiting for him, probably all night. He felt scummy, treating his poor mam this way. Only thirty-four years old and look at her.

Scrubbing and washing for that toffy lot had dried out her hands and ploughed lines deep into her face. A crying shame. Daisy was right about one thing. Starting tomorrow, he was going to be more of a man. With Da dead and buried, it was all up to him.

The fire had burned low. Lonnie was thankful he’d been a squirrel in the months leading up to winter and stocked up on firewood. At least that was one thing he’d done right for his mam. There’d been plenty for the taking from work sites. Only throw-outs. He could almost hear his da’s reprimand: ‘Not the most honest path, son. Not one I would’ve favoured.’

By rights he should set his mam comfortable, but he elected to leave her be. Lonnie tried to tiptoe past the chair. His mam snorted, drifting up from the depths of sleep. The blanket slipped down and there in the little hammock formed by her nightdress was the watch. Her eyes opened. She gave a start.

‘It’s only me, Mam.’

She saw him looking at the watch. ‘Time we talked, lad. Where did you find it?’

Lonnie shuffled nervously and did what he always did when he knew his mam was going to give him the what for – he reversed the questioning. ‘Where did you lose it, Mam?’

His mother looked reproachful. ‘I never intended you to know.’

‘Why not? I would’ve got the money.’

‘The very reason I didn’t say anything. You always take the law into your own hands.’

‘But giving them Da’s watch, how could you?’

‘Do you want to be homeless? They promised I could have it back when I put the money together for the arrears. They said they’d done everything lawful, kept the property for ninety days before they sold on.’

‘Those dirty mongrels. They never sold on. They stashed it.’

‘There’s no argument with the law. I didn’t have a leg to stand on.’

‘The law’s one thing, but people should stay inside decency. You should’ve told me.’

‘And what would you have done? Raided a building society? Remember just before your father died? How he needed those sulphur powders to purify his blood? And you went along to Mr Salvadore’s. Remember what happened?’

Shamefaced, Lonnie followed his mam’s meaningful stare. On the side table laid out as if his da would be picking them up directly were medicine jars and powders, a razor strop, tumbler and brush. Neither of them could find the courage or the desire to remove them from permanent display.

Lonnie knew full well what his mam was on about. His thoughts returned to the day when he had gone into the corner shop hoping to get the powders on tick. When Mr Salvadore refused, Lonnie argued the point with him. ‘You know our word is good. We always pay up.’

The shopkeeper replied, ‘’Course I trust you. And I trust your mother, the way I trust all the decent people around here. But everyone’s in the same boat these days. I’ll be broke soon if I don’t watch out. Last week another building society failed. Today the price of wool dropped again. We all have to make a few sacrifices.’

‘Come on Mr Sav, my da’s real sick and he needs that medicine bad. We’ll have the money next week. Only one more time, please.’

‘Sorry, lad, but you’ll have to wait until next week to buy them. Look, I have work to do out the back, so off you go and close the door behind you.’ Mr Salvadore walked around to the back of the shop, leaving Lonnie to his own devices.

Right there and then, Lonnie knew it wasn’t one of his brightest ideas, but grabbing the opportunity he jumped the counter and helped himself to a box of Frazer’s Sulphur Powders. ‘Sorry, Mr Sav,’ he muttered as he raced out. ‘I swear I’ll pay you back next week.’

His mother’s words sliced through his recollection.

‘Remember how you told me Mr Salvadore had given you the powders on tick. But there wasn’t any credit.’ She held up the watch. ‘You’re too old to go taking things when you feel like it, even if you think it’s the right thing to do.’

‘I did go back and pay.’ Lonnie fell silent as his thoughts returned to the day he’d made payment. It was exactly one week after he’d light-fingered the powders. True to his word he’d laid the correct price to the halfpenny on the shop counter.

‘I know you eventually paid for them, but it was wrong to take the powders in the first place. You were fortunate Mr Salvadore didn’t call in the police.’

It was true. Mr Sav had a good heart. When Lonnie went back to apologise, Mr Sav told him those failing banks were doing bad things to good people. There he was himself, sending good customers away, while Lonnie, who wasn’t such a bad lad after all, had been turned into a thief in order to help his ailing father.

‘If I had waited, it would’ve been too late. Da died that same week, Mam.’ Maybe it was the guilt of what he’d done, or the excessive drinking of the evening that finally caught up with Lonnie. He cursed the bottles of wine, regretting his angry words to Daisy, knowing full well he had shamed his mam, his friends and himself by his behaviour, hating himself as each thought clamoured for attention and forgiveness. Above all, he regretted the grief he had given and the fact that his poor da was lying dead in the Melbourne cemetery and there was nothing at all he could do to change any of the whole stinking lot.

‘I know your heart is in the right place, son. You do know why I kept one eye open for you tonight. Did you think I would forget?’ She pressed her husband’s watch into his hand. ‘Happy birthday, son. Seventeen years old. Your da would have wanted you to have this. And I know deep down he would have been proud of you.’

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