The Story of Danny Dunn (28 page)

‘Anyway, father and son expanded their grog business and started taking Yank dollars direct in payment, then by various ways and means using them to buy stuff at the Yank PX stores – you know, nylons, Scotch, chocolates; if you had the money, you could order what you wanted and they'd have it for you the next day. I mean, even prime American steaks, big as your two hands and yay thick,' he said, indicating a good two inches with his thumb and forefinger.

‘Well, when the Japs surrendered in a hurry after Nagasaki they were caught, pardon my French, with a shit-load of American dollars. So, Sean figures the war's over, everything's okay again, and he trots off to the bank to see the manager. Lucky for him it's Harry Farmer and he and Harry went to the local school together. Harry tells him he's in all sorts of strife, that Sean'll be up for profiteering and working the black market and he advises him to forget that he ever came into the bank in the first place, and to get the hell out of his office and take what's in his so-called legitimate bank account with him.'

Brenda grinned. ‘They've been stuck ever since with this funny green money they can't change at the bank and the local black market doesn't want it except for practically nothing. Then, Helen had an idea for the boat and then we had one as well to turn the motorcar into dollars.'

Danny looked mystified. ‘What idea for the boat . . . what boat?
I don't know anything about a boat.'

Helen grinned. ‘In the end it was simply supply and demand. Three of my American wartime contacts are still in Australia. One of them, a senior colonel who must remain nameless for reasons that will soon be obvious, is responsible for getting Australian war brides to their American husbands. The army has contracted a pre-war Matson Line luxury cruise liner, the SS
Lurline
, and converted it to war trim – that is, basic steerage – to transport over seven hundred war brides to the States. But several first-class cabins have been permanently reserved for returning officers who, for various reasons, remained in Australia after the Japanese surrender.' Helen paused. ‘Well, Brenda told me about the cheap dollars available when I first mentioned the American trip and the hospital money we were going to need. So, I called my American contact and suggested that perhaps some of the officers returning to the States had surplus Australian pounds, and that instead of an official conversion rate of four US dollars to the pound, I could offer six in exchange for one of the first-class cabins on the
Lurline
. The offer was pretty good – they'd been paid in American dollars, converted them officially in any bank for Australian pounds, then sold me the pounds for a fifty per cent profit in returned American dollars,
and a first-class cabin.'

‘And he, this officer, bought the deal?' Danny asked, somewhat surprised.

Helen shrugged, suddenly giggling. ‘He wanted to know if we'd like the stateroom.'

‘But, isn't all this a bit shady? I mean, on our part?'

‘You mean mine, don't you?' Helen didn't wait for a reply. ‘I daresay it could be seen as money laundering by some overzealous bureaucrat, but sometimes you have to bend the rules a little. I learned that in intelligence . . .' She laughed. ‘Nice girls come last.'

Danny was beginning to understand that one man was no match for two good women but he felt compelled to show some resistance. He shook his head slowly, a wry grin on his twisted face. ‘A man should say no . . . Just another example of
who
you know, officer bloody privilege, let the rank and file sweat down in steerage while the officers swan around in first class.' Danny paused and with just the semblance of a grin said, ‘I want you to know that I've given it thirty seconds of serious thought and decided on this occasion to forego my principles and not object.'

This brought a cheer, and Helen, not to be outdone, cocked her head and said with a wide smile, ‘Well, I am
so
glad you've managed to overcome your proletarian prejudices on this occasion, Danny Dunn, after such lengthy deliberation. Being always mindful of your sensibilities – otherwise known as the bloody great chip on your shoulder – I have had you listed on the manifest as my batman. The cabin has been allotted to Lieutenant Colonel H. Brown. As a former intelligence liaison officer, I made sure
the Americans had
no record of my decommissioning; I was therefore still on their official Allied Forces Liaison Officer list. Hopefully you will not object to eating in the first-class dining room, my good man, formerly known as the officers' mess.'

Both Brenda and Half Dunn applauded spontaneously and Brenda returned to the story. ‘Helen had moved a lot of American money for Sean Murphy, and when he phoned to say how grateful he was I asked if he could drop round for a chat. He told me that he'd decided to retire and was handing the business over to his son, Tater, who would be around pronto.' She glanced over at Helen. ‘Please don't be upset, but business between Balmain people is different. When I explained that you were going to the States for plastic surgery, Tater offered me seven dollars to the pound – very generous. So, when I'd got him to agree to eight American dollars to the pound I called Helen, who asked us to add the hundred pounds her father had promised as a wedding gift.' Brenda looking very pleased with herself, then concluded, ‘With the car money, there's your money for America. Just over four and a half thousand in green bills.'

Helen wasn't going to take any chances with Danny's ridiculous pride interfering, and before he could respond she said, ‘Thank you, both, very much. It's a wonderful thing to do for Danny.' She smiled. ‘And I get a handsome husband into the bargain!'

Danny was overcome with gratitude. ‘Mum, I'm afraid I'm marrying way out of my class and much, much more woman than I know how to handle.' He threw a glance at Half Dunn. ‘But then you weren't much good at the love, honour and obey bit with Dad either.'

‘Bloody good thing too,' Half Dunn grinned. ‘Gawd knows where we'd'a ended up without yer mum.' He paused and cleared his throat. ‘One more small detail: when you're going through customs, Jim Black's the head man at Circular Quay – you remember he used to do the halftime water and oranges with Bullnose Daintree and Sammy Laidlaw for the Tiger Nippers?'

‘Yeah, I remember him well,' Danny laughed. ‘He once told me if we won the Junior Grade Premiership, there'd be a job for me in His Majesty's Customs after I left school.'

‘Yeah, well, he'll be looking out for you, see you through customs without any embarrassing questions or rummaging through your suitcases. He looks just the same – beer gut's got a bit bigger, that's all.'

Danny and Helen married on the 12th of March 1946, at the Sydney Registry Office in a quiet ceremony attended by both sets of parents, with Helen's girlfriend Sylvia Holmes as her
witness and Dr Craig Woon, who was up from Melbourne to attend a three-month course at the Military Repatriation Hospital, acting as Danny's best man. The reception, equally quiet, was held in a small private dining area at the Australia Club, as a sop to Barbara. No confetti, but plenty of roast lamb, peach melba and champagne, followed by a long, lugubrious speech from the father of the bride, intended to be humorous but only occasionally succeeding (though everyone laughed politely). Reg Brown explained that while Helen had been a wonderful and in many respects exemplary daughter, even as a child, she'd never resembled in either looks, habit or character any member of the Browns or the Mortlocks, Barbara's family. He bought a cheap laugh when he suggested she could well have been switched in the hospital maternity ward. Then, hypothesising further, he claimed that perhaps she was a throwback to a great-great aunt in England, Jasmine Maude Brown, who was known to be wilful and headstrong and even ‘contrary'. Jasmine had run away from home at the age of sixteen and returned at the age of fifty-two in possession of a great deal of valuable jewellery and a sizeable fortune in large uncut emeralds, the source of which she never divulged, other than to say that she had spent her life ‘having fun in other parts', and that ‘one is forced to do unto others as they do unto you', whatever this was supposed to mean. Rich Aunt Jasmine could also occasionally be heard shouting in Spanish in her sleep. Reg concluded by remarking, ‘It has occurred to us from time to time that our darling daughter may well have a fair allotment of rich Aunt Jasmine's genes!' This got another polite laugh. Helen cast a quick glance at her mother, whom she noted had not joined in the laughter.

When it was Half Dunn's turn to speak, cautioned by one of Brenda's ‘Don't try to compete with that story about your grandfather winning the pub in a card game' looks, he kept his speech surprisingly short and sweet. However, the sour expression on Barbara Brown's face when Half Dunn acknowledged their family's good fortune in acquiring Helen as both daughter and wife would have curdled milk.

Two days after they were married Danny and Helen boarded the SS
Lurline
at Circular Quay, having been escorted through customs like VIPs by Jim Black. They'd been allocated a very large first-class cabin with its own bathroom and a double bed, referred to as a double bunk simply because the legs were fixed to the floor. Helen, having inspected the cabin thoroughly and declared it to be satisfactory, made Danny come over to stand directly in front of her. She cleared her throat dramatically. ‘You may recall, Sergeant Major Dunn, that you are listed on the ship's manifest as my batman. Now, there are over seven hundred war brides on board this ship who haven't had a man for several months. You will be confined to this cabin for the duration of the voyage and be required to make constant love to only one of them!' Helen suddenly flung her arms around Danny, smothering him with kisses. ‘And, hooray! That one is me!' she cried happily.

They'd begun to make love soon after they'd passed through the Heads and into the open sea. Danny, after undressing hastily, scrounged through his suitcase to find Reg Brown's parting gift. Helen's father had drawn Danny aside at the wedding reception and slipped a packet of three contraceptives into his hand. ‘For tonight, old son,' he'd said out of the corner of his mouth. ‘Advantage of being a chemist, what.' Then he'd asked Danny to visit the Birchgrove pharmacy the next day. ‘Little surprise waiting; not for Barbara's eyes,' he'd winked.

The following afternoon Danny had called Brown's Pharmacy, its name recently changed from Brown's Chemist Shop, and arranged a time to come over. Upon arrival, he was ushered into the inner sanctum where Reg made up prescriptions and was handed a carefully wrapped brown-paper package roughly the size of a shoebox. ‘Samples, every imaginable configuration,' Reg had winked, adding, ‘Have fun, son,' and patted Danny on the back.

Now, as the liner breached the first waves in the open sea and the rocking became more pronounced, Danny lifted the lid on Reg Brown's gift, offering it to his bride as if it were a box of chocolates. ‘For your pleasure and delectation, madam,' he said.

Helen, seated on the edge of the double bunk, squealed with delight. ‘Oh, what fun! Danny, where on earth . . . ?'

Danny grinned. ‘A parting gift from your father. Samples he's been ordering, mostly from France, Germany and America, and collecting for God knows how long. I must say, your dad looked very pleased with himself. “None of these are available in Australia, son. I've searched the international market, got most of them, except for three Japanese brands, and they'd probably be too small,” he explained to me proudly.'

Helen snorted. ‘Good Lord! My bold father! There must be fifty here and all different. Whoever would have thought, with Daddy a vestryman at St Andrew's! Goodness, I had no idea there were so many different shapes!' She selected half a dozen small packets and dropped them into her naked lap, then, picking one at random, read out its name. ‘Oh, look! It's called The Virgin Tickler! I'm not sure that what I need most at the moment is tickling, and, alas, I'm no longer a virgin.' She discarded the tickler and selected another, translating from the French: ‘Leap in the Dark! What do you suppose? Intended for a couple who've only just met?' She reeled off the other names: ‘Pretty Fingers! Maiden's Bliss! Sweet Joy! Ecstasy!
Amore!
' Then she suddenly cried out, ‘Oh, how appropriate! This one's called Sweet Caution!' She glanced up at Danny to see that he was standing, stark naked, holding the box lightly between thumb and forefinger as it balanced on his erection. ‘Oh dear, is that my batman I see standing at the salute?' Helen cried, eyes dancing.

‘Lieutenant Colonel, madam, if you would kindly make your selection, I am at your immediate service and ready to once again fulfil my marriage vow to love, honour and cherish you!' Danny gasped in one rapid sentence.

‘Oh, my poor darling!' Helen exclaimed, dropping to her knees on the carpeted floor and scattering small packets everywhere. She removed the box from its precarious resting position and murmured, ‘I've made my selection, darling. We're going
au naturel
,' whereupon she allowed her mouth to accept his impressive salute.

To the faint throb of the turbine engines, Helen worked Danny to the point where he was beginning to whimper softly, then withdrew her lips, rose to her feet, kissed him deeply, and took him by the hand. ‘Come, lover boy,' she said softly, climbing into the double bunk. ‘It's time we practised making a baby!'