The Naked Drinking Club (3 page)

‘Oh, this and that. But I’ve not really found what I want to do yet.’ I peeled the label off my beer.

‘What part of Scotland you from, then? I went to uni there, you know?’

‘Oh yeah?’ I was envious of people who had studied, and was more often than not the only person in a group who had never gone to college or university.

‘Yep, I’m from Leeds but studied in Glasgow. You’ve an east coast accent though, haven’t you?’

‘Yeah. Edinburgh.’

‘Where are you staying in Sydney, then?’

‘Just crashing at a friend of a friend’s, you know, but I can’t be there for long. It’s kind of a favour on their part to someone else and I don’t want to take the piss.’ I felt awkward about disclosing details of my shambolic life.

‘Not tying yourself to anything, eh?’ Jim seemed to detect my unease.

‘Yeah, something like that.’

‘Well, that’s the idea of travelling, isn’t it?’ He was kind and reassuring, and I felt grateful for his presence in the group.

‘What about you? Where do you stay?’ I asked.

‘Moved in here. They do that, you know, they just knock a bit of money off to cover your rent. It makes it easier.’

‘What’s it like?’

‘Not bad. I’ve got a room to myself, people come and go, it’s easy really. So you staying much longer with these friends in Sydney or what?’

‘I plan to be kind of moving around.’

Jim nodded. ‘I see.’

I nodded back.

He said lightly, ‘If you stick with this for a while, you could move in. There’s room just now.’

Anaya bounded over, tying back her hair at the same time.

‘You telling Kerry about how nice we are to you, Jim?’

‘No, I’m telling her to run away while she still has a chance.’

Anaya was irritating but sexy in her looks; she had light-brown long hair, blue-green eyes, great cheekbones and a heart-shaped face. I had felt her eyes on me the whole time since I’d made a couple of light remarks about the paintings. I decided to try to find out more about her.

‘So how did you come to do this then, Anaya?’ I found it hard to look at her properly.

‘I was travelling when I met Greg. He’s a Kiwi. I met him in Auckland.’

‘Where’s that?’ I hadn’t a clue about anywhere and wasn’t ashamed to admit it.

‘New Zealand. Oh my God, you haven’t been?’

I shook my head like it was no big deal.

‘It’s beautiful, totally boring but beautiful. Anyway we met there. Greg’s half-Maori.’

‘So you see, that’s why he wants to fuck over the Australians.’ Jim laughed at his own remark, but I didn’t get it.

‘Not at all, he loves it here. So, Kerry, you think this is for you? It’s really easy money, you know.’ She looked right at me, I held her gaze.

‘I’ll give it a go. I really need some cash as soon as possible.’

‘Excellent. It’s exciting. And I love it when we have a new team,’ she said, chain-smoking, with no expression, just faraway eyes.

CHAPTER
TWO

SYDNEY WAS HUMID
, and got dark quickly. I liked the combination. I hated the five-till-seven slot of the day anywhere, so I was happy to be plunged into darkness early, unlike at home where far too much was made of hours of summer evening light. Dusk had always been a good marker for the onset of drinking, which I was concerned about being compromised by the new job.

Jim parked up a big old Holden Kingswood at the edge of a suburb called Dover Heights, close to North Bondi. It was nearly six o’clock; I had been asleep for most of the journey out of the city, which had taken an hour in commuter traffic. I sat in the back with the two Danish girls. Scotty sat in the passenger seat with his bare feet on the dash, his baseball hat over his face. The Danish girls smelled clean and fresh like the nice girls they were, and a slight, warm breeze blew through the car.

I felt lonely. I didn’t know the others yet. I knew I would know them in time, but I was growing tired of constantly moving around in my life, of things being so short-lived. I could have let myself slip right down, had not Scotty turned on the car radio and passed round some gum.

‘How you feeling, girls? Are you up for making some easy bucks?’

‘What time will we finish the work?’ asked the Danish called Andrea.

Jim turned round and smiled.

‘Depends, but we usually tend to call it a day around nineish. But if someone is selling after that we wait for them.
Sometimes
you could be in your last house around eight thirty but it could take you an hour to close.’

‘What’s close?’ asked the other.

‘It’s like, finish the transaction, complete the sale,’ Scotty answered, stretching his arms out as much as he could.

I hadn’t asked much, I didn’t feel the need to. I had a feeling I knew exactly how to play things. As always, just as I was slipping down, my arrogance kicked in and saved me, setting tightly in my jaw.

‘Right then, let’s make a move,’ said Jim.

‘Yep, better get on with it,’ added Scotty.

‘Are you selling too, Scotty?’ I asked.

‘No, I’m just helping out, seeing how you guys are doing and helping Jim with the areas.’

‘What about you, Jim?’

‘No, thank you very much. I’ve earned my place of supervisor so you lucky people can earn my money for me.’

‘Oh yeah, how does that work, then?’

Scotty laughed and looked out the window.

‘Well, I’ve sold for lots of time, six months in total, but they need someone to run the teams so I’m the obvious choice for now. But if we do a trip away, I might go back to it a bit.’

‘So you earn commission off us?’

‘Exactly. Tough, eh?’ Jim laughed.

‘It will be when I’m supervisor.’

‘Maybe if you turn out to be so good at selling, you won’t get the chance, eh?’ He turned round and looked at me smugly.

‘We’ll see.’ I was beaten.

‘Come on, you lot, let’s get the stuff out the back.’

The Danish said nothing, unable to understand our mock sparring, with its serious undertones.

Scotty opened the boot and dragged out the portfolios.

‘All right, help yourselves, people.’

Jim reached into the glove compartment and grabbed a bunch of leaflets. ‘Here you go.’ He handed us out some each. ‘Those are your bank-card slips with the credit-card authorisation phone number. Try to encourage cash but some will want to pay by card, especially if they are buying more than
one.
You just fill in this form and ask politely to use their phone to call.’

The three of us looked blank.

‘It’s OK, it’s straightforward. You just call and ask to authorise a payment. This other number here is our merchant number, that’s the company’s registered number. They’ll ask for that and the amount, and that’s it. OK?’

‘Where will you two be?’ I asked.

‘We’ll be nearby, in the car. When you come out you’ll be able to find us and we’ll pick you up when you’ve finished or when you need more paintings. Any questions, just find us between houses, and don’t worry, guys.’ Scotty handed out the folders as he spoke. Jim looked at his map.

‘Karin, I’m going to start you off here. This is Hunter Street. You stick to this side for the time being, and it’s unlikely you’ll get further than this tonight unless no one’s home.’ He pointed to the houses. ‘Andrea, you just start here on that corner.’ He pointed with the other hand on her shoulder. ‘Then move round to Myunda Road, do you see it round the corner?’

‘Yes, I understand.’

‘OK, good luck, guys.’

‘Mind the dogs, yeah?’ Scotty laughed.

Andrea turned back looking concerned. ‘I fucking hate dogs.’ I was glad she swore.

‘Talk in a high voice and they won’t bite you.’

‘I mean it, Scotty,’ she snapped.

Scotty waved her on, laughing more than was necessary.

‘Scotty, don’t wind her up like that,’ said Jim.

Scotty lit up. ‘Proven fact, mate, dogs don’t mind a high female voice.’

‘Shut up and get in the car, you lunatic.’

I was getting a little irritated with the banter and Scotty was starting to grate on me even though I could see through his act.

‘Hey, Kerry, we need to get back in the car. We’re dropping you somewhere else.’

‘Whereabouts?’

We all got in and drove off slowly; Jim had the map in his teeth while looking at the houses.

‘Think we covered this street about six months ago,’ said Scotty.

We’d only moved a minute away to a wider street with bigger houses.

‘Yip, this is it. OK, Raleigh Street, let’s go.’ Jim and I got out while Scotty stayed in the car fiddling with the radio.

‘You’ve got the whole street, OK?’ said Jim. ‘Both sides, yeah?’

‘Yeah sure, thanks. Have a nice evening, boys.’

Jim patted me on the back.

‘Think of the beers afterwards,’ Scotty said, leaning out of the car with ‘Uptown Girl’ playing in the background.

‘Turn that bloody thing down, Scotty. Jesus, nothing like telling them all we’ve arrived.’ It looked to me like Jim had never really left teaching.

‘I
was
thinking about the beers,’ I said to Scotty.

I walked off in the direction of a large white house at the corner of a crossroad, wondering if my Peter Stuger painting was dry or not.

I knocked on the fly screen of the white house with palm trees lining the front path. The main door was open. The house was called ‘The Cove’. It was written on a piece of wood that hung above the door; it really annoyed me. I could hear some people noise from through the back of the house. A woman came to the fly screen with a glass of wine in her hand; she was wearing smart office clothes and no shoes. She was relaxed and friendly and smiled when she saw me. I was already smiling from when she first came into view. She opened the screen and leant against it.

‘What can I do for you, love?’ she said, still smiling but looking at my folder. A small child ran down the hall towards us and grabbed her leg. I had no interest in the child but I pretended.

‘Hello there, you,’ I said in a playful voice. ‘Hi there, my name’s Kerry. I’m from Scotland and I’m here showing the artwork of some people I’m working with.’ I hated Greg’s coached words coming out of my mouth, but it felt like the right thing to say.

‘Oh, yeah? Artwork, you say? Is it yours?’

‘Mummy!’ shouted the child, competing with me for her attention. The woman played with the child’s hair as he swung around her leg.

‘Baby, don’t pull Mummy’s skirt.’

‘One of the paintings is mine. It’s the only one I have at the moment, the rest of the work belongs to other painters from the same group as me.’

‘Mummy! I don’t like pumpkin.’

‘I know you don’t, darling.’ She looked over at me. ‘Sorry, we’ve got our hands full at the moment.’ The child was pushing the woman against the wall. ‘Mattie, watch Mummy’s glass.’

‘I can see you’ve got a lot on, it’s that time of night, I know. But that’s why we come to you, so that we bring our work to you in your home, in your time.’ I’d lost the thread at that point, I knew it. Then the husband appeared from down the hall. He looked tense.

‘What’s happening, honey?’ he asked.

I smiled as the woman talked to the child about pumpkin, telling him he didn’t have to eat it, but the child went on and on. The husband frowned at me and looked perplexed, and I wanted to speak to him before she did but it was too late – she got to him first.

‘What’s all this?’ he asked.

‘She’s selling paintings from Scotland.’

‘Well, I’m from Scotland …’

‘Oh yeah, which part?’ he asked, interested.

‘Edinburgh.’ My cheeks were sore from smiling; at this rate I wouldn’t last the night.

‘My brother married an Edinburgh girl. Marie Jamieson.’ He said the name in a special voice that I suspected he only got out for dinner parties. I appeared really interested and made a deep-in-thought expression, as if I might actually know her.

‘I know you won’t know her, it’s a big place, uh?’

I had lost the woman to the child, and she was knocking back the wine. I had to bring focus back in somehow. ‘It’s not as big as Sydney. Sydney’s massive, I love it.’

‘Our neighbours are from Glasgow!’ The man said ‘Glasgow’ in an awfully bad Scottish voice and pointed in the direction of houses across the street with his wine glass.

That was it. I decided to take control and to do so, I’d have to take some risks, otherwise we’d be here all night. I turned to the opposite houses. ‘That one, there? I forget the number.’

‘Yeah, forty-eight, with the boat in the drive.’

‘Oh yeah, they are a lovely couple.’ That was it, too late to turn back. I didn’t know the name and I didn’t know if they were even a couple but if my instincts were correct, he would tell me and I’d go along with it.

‘The Gordons, Pam and Michael?’

‘Oh my goodness, really? I was calling Pam Anne all the time – how embarrassing! I mustn’t have heard them.’ I fiddled with the ties on my folder, not wanting eye contact.

‘You went in there and met them, did you?’

The woman walked away down the hall carrying the child.

‘I couldn’t get away. They’re a lovely couple, aren’t they? Some characters.’ Amazing newfound bullshit, I thought, as I eased into the con like an old hand.

‘Oh yeah. Michael likes to talk. We all went on holiday a couple of years ago and it was a hoot, I’m telling you.’ He laughed to himself and took another drink of wine.

It was then that how to play him came to me – how to get in the house and what to sell him. My heart was pounding and I was becoming increasingly edgy at us talking on his doorstep, as I feared it might attract the very neighbours that I was lying about. I had to get inside during this next chunk of conversation.

‘Yeah, they’re great people, and I have to say I agree entirely with their taste in paintings.’ I remade eye contact for this.

‘Oh, right.’ He sipped from his wine. ‘They liked your stuff, did they?’

‘Not all of it – you don’t expect anybody to like all of it – but they really went for one in a big way.’ I appeared as nonchalant as possible.

‘They bought some, did they?’

‘Yes, they did. It looks good there, and they’ve got a lovely place.’