In Lonnie's Shadow (16 page)

VELVET DRAPE

Item No. 749

Fragment of red fabric with a thick, soft looped pile, used as curtaining. One of a great number of artifacts found in close proximity to Madam Buckingham’s establishment.

Daisy had a scheme of her own. She headed straight for the Big House in Lonsdale Street, planning to see Madam Buckingham. There were two things she intended to set straight, one about Pearl, the next about herself.

She was surprised to be led so quickly through a curtained doorway to a room where Madam Buckingham sat filling in a ledger. The madam kept writing and didn’t look up. ‘Well, Daisy Cameron, to what do we owe the pleasure?’

‘I’ve come to ask your help for Pearl.’

‘And why would she be needing my help, or yours for that matter?’

‘She’s my friend. And she works for you. Aren’t you concerned about her misfortune? Why are you being so unfeeling towards her?’

Madam Buckingham’s pen halted mid-sentence and she grew tetchy at the cheek. ‘Insolent imp!’ She had a mind to give that defiant tongue a different kind of licking. ‘I’ll tell you why,’ she snapped. ‘She’s an ungrateful double-crossing slut who’s sneaking off to work for that cow Annie Walker, so what am I s’posed to do? Send her flowers?’

‘You have a duty to protect your girls.’

‘Don’t you go attaching blame to me. If Pearl lies with dogs, she’s gonna get fleas.’

‘I don’t see why it’s so hard for you to help.’

‘Watch your lip, Daisy Cameron. It doesn’t pay to mollycoddle girls like her. You’ve not lived her life. She’s been taking care of herself well and good since she was twelve.’

‘Can’t you just help her out this once? She’s no match for Slasher. I don’t understand why you won’t, when you’ve always been so kind to me.’

‘What yer getting at?’ Madam Buckingham’s eyes were white-hot with suppressed anger. ‘I do no more for you than for anybody else. Perhaps I’m spoiling you. Perhaps I should do less for you.’

Daisy’s voice faltered. ‘No, I don’t mean …’ Madam Buckingham cut short Daisy’s words.

‘Do I have to keep every mewing waif in Little Lon who comes pawing at my door? If it wasn’t for your pa …’

‘What about him?’

Daisy’s sharp question made Madam Bucking- ham’s eyes narrow. ‘Yes, what about your pa? You tell me, Daisy Cameron. I’ve always wondered what you remembered about the night he left.’

Daisy shook her head. ‘I don’t remember anything.’

‘Nothing?’ Madam Buckingham rose out of her chair and stormed towards Daisy. ‘Well I’m beginning to think, missy, you know more than you’re letting on. Get out! Scarper! Stop wasting my time!’ Brusquely, she proceeded to shove Daisy out of the door.

Suddenly, her voice changed, springing from a kinder woman’s mouth, all traces of her fury disconcertingly pushed aside, as if they had never been arguing, ‘Daisy, me girl, I want you to make a new white dress for Ruby. There’s another parliamentary party coming here in a few days time and they’ll be expecting the best. Lots of frills and tucks, there’s a pet.’

Daisy didn’t know what to make of Madam Buckingham’s sudden mood swing. She left the Big House wondering why God had suddenly done a runner. Pearl was still without help, and Madam Buckingham was asking strange questions about her pa. She sneaked a look over her shoulder, half expecting Burke to be following behind. What a pigeon pair she and Pearl had turned out to be, one afraid of Slasher, the other of Burke. ‘Listen to me,’ she heard herself saying aloud, ‘waging war against the Almighty because I’m in such a frenzy.’

She should have taken heed of Lonnie’s advice in the first place and stayed clear of Madam Buckingham. At any rate, he had another scheme to help Pearl, although knowing him as well as she did, any solution he thought up was bound to bring its own share of trouble.

LEATHER SHOE

Item No. 5117

Dress shoe. Leather. Two-tone.

‘So me old pigeon, what d’ya want doing?’

George Swiggins rested a foot against the shopfront, his arms crossed leisurely. His small round hat was tipped at a hard angle, shading his eyes. With only a vague interest, he waited for Lonnie to spell out his request.

What had occurred to Lonnie when walking back from Miss Selina’s was that George Swiggins owed him a favour. The Push may indeed be the only ones who could help deal with Pearl’s situation. So he searched out George and found him camped with his gang on a street corner. However, the bustling centre of Melbourne was not, generally speaking, the most secluded place to make such a dangerous request known.

‘I was hoping for a quiet word. Alone.’

‘Spit it out, mate. There’s nobody around here listening except us, and my boys won’t breathe a word.’

Lonnie’s words came out like he was choking on a boiled lolly. ‘I may need some help … that is … to sort out a … let’s say difficulty … for one of my friends, er … that is, if you can help.’

The leader of the Push seemed sympathetic. He wrapped a firm arm around him and pulled him in so close that Lonnie’s nose took in the fresh starch of a cleanly pressed shirt. One thing about the Push, they liked to be as spick and span as the wealthy. George sniggered and a trace of spittle appeared at the corner of his mouth. ‘Another of your rich lady friends need rescuing? Hey, you never knocked her up?’ His voice darkened into a murky, uncharted space. ‘Is that what you want sorting?’

‘No. I need your help with … Slasher.’

‘Don’t tell me you’ve started walking the streets for Annie Walker? Well, I knew times were hard!’ George chuckled, enjoying his own joke. He stuck Lonnie a jab in the rib. ‘Or has he had his way with your pretty pound-note girl, given her one in the loins to remember.’ He jerked his fist at full throttle, loaded with insinuation.

The words hung accusingly in the air between them. It had been the wrong thing to come here. George was only having a laugh at his expense. It was bad enough asking the Push for a favour in the first place. All the reasons why Lonnie did not want to be a member of the gang came flooding back to him. ‘Forget it,’ he said, flustered and angry. ‘It’s a bad idea after all.’

George was not one to be put off. The suggestion of a bloodthirsty brawl with Slasher Jack had given his eyes a buoyant glimmer. ‘So, you asking us to get rid of him?’

‘Yes! No! Don’t kill him or hurt him, only scare him off.’

‘’Course we won’t hurt him. How about we send him a nasty letter instead? Can any of you write?’ he asked, turning towards his mob. Jeers and vulgar suggestions poured in before George silenced them with a wave of his hand.

‘Just keep him away from Pearl.’

George gave Lonnie a smirk. ‘Our little oyster gem? Why didn’t you say so in the first place? Thought you were doing it for that stuck-up bit of skirt you were hanging around with at the Australian Building. Leave Slasher to me, me old pigeon. I can take him with one arm tied behind my back.’

With George agreeing to the favour, another tremor of alarm passed through Lonnie. The Push were a sinister lot. They didn’t do things by half. Committing murder was not inconceivable. So there was no misunderstanding, Lonnie felt bound to repeat his concerns. ‘Just warn him off, agreed?’

‘What d’ya reckon? Let’s just say you won’t hear from him again. Consider it done. But this’ll make us even. No more favours. ’Course, if you joined the

Push, you wouldn’t have problems like this.’

Lonnie began to wonder what demon he had set loose. If Slasher died, and the finger pointed his way, he would be implicated, tried by a jury, found guilty and strung up alongside George on the gallows. The floor would drop beneath him, his neck broken; or worse, he’d be left hanging while his feet twitched and turned and he clung helplessly to life.

When they cut him down they would make a cast of his face, a death mask like Ned Kelly’s to display at the Town Hall. A line of spectators would come filing past, some aggrieved – his poor old mam for one, Pearl, Daisy, Carlo, Ned and Ronnie Alcock maybe; others taking pleasure in his fate – the Cricks, Rose Payne and her father, Postlethwaite, even the man with the mongrel dog; and some who would care less – like Billy Bottle and his gang. His body left to rot in an unmarked grave behind the prison walls.

Lonnie’s wild imagination took hold until his knuckles became tight and blanched, and his knees weakened and trembled to the marrow with the horror of his own death.

RED BAND

Item No. 4

Ribbon from a Salvation Army bonnet.

Pearl’s mouth formed into a sulky pucker. ‘Leave off about Miss Selina. She means well, but if either madam gets wind of me visiting a child rescuer they’d both be after my skin.’

Daisy perched dubiously on the roll of the chaise longue in the front room at number four, listening to Pearl’s refusal for the umpteenth time. She had deliberately dressed up in her navy woollen uniform and bonnet for the occasion; the red band and gold badge symbolising the force of the Army she had brought along with her as divine backup. Not such an easy task as things were working out. She sipped on a cup of tea, which had been left to stew in the pot until it was slap cold, tossing over whether a few more desperate, attention-seeking prayers would be needed in order to help Pearl change her mind.

‘You know as well as I do, I can’t go. At least, not yet. No matter where I hide, Slasher will come looking for me. He’s a bogeyman. He’ll sniff me out.’ Pearl’s thoughts rushed back to the bridge and the deep dark abyss of water.

Daisy touched her friend’s arm. ‘We’re not about to stand by and let Slasher Jack do anything more to harm you.’ However, Daisy knew as she spoke that what Pearl said was true. Her life was in jeopardy, putting even God to the test. Everyone in Little Lon knew Slasher attacked Annie’s wayward girls in the dark of night with boot or knife. Look at what he had already done to Pearl. She was lucky to have come out alive.

‘I wonder if we’ll be chased by demons and monsters in the afterlife,’ said Pearl. ‘As if we don’t have enough in this lifetime. Even you, a God-fearing soul, still have your nightmares.’

‘We are loved,’ said Daisy. ‘There’s always a guiding light.’

‘I’d rather God do something more down-to- earth, like make Slasher disappear forever.’

‘Pray to the Almighty. He always helps.’

‘Let’s hope he sends an angel.’

‘He will. But I’m afraid God’s chosen one isn’t Madam Buckingham. I already asked her to help, but she refused.’

Pearl sprang up in a panic. ‘You didn’t let on I was working for Annie, did you? You didn’t tell her about Miss Selina?’

‘No,’ Daisy reassured her on both counts. ‘I kept quiet about everything. But she already thinks you’re doubling up.’

Pearl’s face went ashen. ‘Madam hates Annie Walker with a vengeance.’

‘Steer clear of her temper. By the time I left she’d already started to turn. She was asking strange questions about the night I came to the Leitrim. Do you remember?’

As Daisy asked the question of Pearl she felt a sudden stab of fear in her chest. Her memory tumbled back to a moment from their shared past. She was ten years old again and waking up inside the room at the Leitrim. She must have fallen asleep for she had no idea how she’d come to be there. Pearl, still in the care of her own parents then, appeared like a little mother sitting by her side, anxiously stroking her hand. ‘Hush now, it’s all right.’

Daisy looked blankly at Pearl. ‘Why am I here?’

‘Don’t know. I saw you brought here so I sneaked in. I overheard Madam Buckingham tell the others to keep you here until you feel better and then they’re to take you over to the Big House.’

‘Has my pa sold me?’

‘Not that I know.’

‘Where is he?’

‘Haven’t seen him.’

Through a crack of light, Daisy brought Pearl back into clarity as a sixteen-year-old.

Pearl was speaking to her, the words coiling through the air towards Daisy in slow motion. ‘Do you ever wonder why Madam Buckingham has been so good-hearted to you, setting you up, seeing you comfortable at the Leitrim, not putting you on the streets like me or Ruby? Do you ever wonder why?’ Pearl was rubbing her hand anxiously, a puzzled look on her face. ‘Daisy, are you all right? Whatever’s the matter?’

Daisy tried to readjust her thinking and bring her friend back into full focus. Her mouth felt as if she had swallowed gravel and her head was throbbing. She managed to say, ‘I came over all giddy.’

‘You scared me! You were in a stupor, staring out as if I was a ghost or something. Whatever were you thinking?’

Daisy shrugged. ‘Nothing more than you being at the Leitrim and stroking my hand.’ But her head was filled with the recurring nightmare – the short sharp pain, the strap, hands tossing her into the air, sliding, falling, tumbling, a crumpled body at the bottom of the steps.

She clutched at Pearl as enlightenment dawned.

‘What if it isn’t a nightmare? What if there really was a man at the bottom of the stairs? What if Madam Buckingham and my pa had something to do with a … a murder?’

‘Don’t speak such thoughts too loudly,’ whispered Pearl, anxiously looking around the empty room. ‘If they are true and Madam Buckingham gets wind of them, your life could be in danger. Say she did commit murder, it means she can get rid of you just as quietly.’

Alarmed, the two friends flew into one another’s arms. Far from comforting each other, they sat pensively contemplating the murderous intents of those around them.

MUG

Item No. 558

Fragments of an earthenware mug. Blue and white pattern, transfer printed. Staffordshire.

When Lonnie turned up at number four, it was Daisy who opened the door. She assumed he was on the same mission to see Pearl and quickly whispered, ‘She won’t listen to one word about Miss Selina. See if you can do any better.’

Lonnie decided to keep his business with George to himself; no point in causing alarm.

Daisy glanced down at the small posy of dried- out poppies and gum nuts that he had lifted out of a blue mug on his mam’s dresser and was holding in his hand. ‘Buttering her up first?’ she asked. ‘Good luck, you’ll need it.’ She left him to it.

Once they were alone, Lonnie pushed the posy towards Pearl. ‘You haven’t told her, have you?’

She looked across at him with a perplexed look.

‘Told her what? And what’re you doing bringing me flowers, yer chump?’

‘Did you tell her about us two? About the other night?’

Pearl’s face broke into a smile. ‘I never kiss and tell.’ She hastily changed her mind. ‘Anyways, not if I can help it.’

‘I guess she’s bound to find out eventually, what with you and me walking out together from now on. But I thought before we tell anyone we should set you up in a new line of work. Miss Selina could find you some laundering. I could go with you to see her now if you like.’

‘Don’t you start on me as well.’ To be spirited off the streets by a well-meaning mission lady was one thing, but to spend the rest of her working days drudging in someone’s scullery till her hands were raw from the soap was not Pearl’s notion of a rescued life. The rest of Lonnie’s words suddenly hit home.

‘Hold on, what’re you saying? We’re not walking out together.’ She took in the look of hurt crossing Lonnie’s face and changed her tack. ‘I’m sorry if I misled you into thinking such a thing.’

Embarrassment was setting like mortar into the frown on Lonnie’s face. Without a word he took three steps backwards, making to leave. What more was there left to say when a girl had spurned a lad?

‘Wait on, Lonnie,’ Pearl beseeched him. ‘Don’t go. Not yet.’ She reached for his arm.

‘Where’ve I heard that line before?’ he asked sarcastically, breaking away from her. Without another word, he strode off.