You Wouldn't Be Dead for Quids (31 page)

Whether it was the fuzzy feeling through lack of sleep, the Bacardi or what it was Les didn't know, but suddenly he had a horn that hard you could have hammered horse-shoes on it and where he was a little reluctant to do any business before, now he was raring to go and get on with the job as Francis started to turn into Raquel Welch.

He squashed his tongue into her ear as she started to undo his fly, and giving her crutch another solid rub he hooked his thumb in the side of her knickers to start easing them down over her backside when a shrill scream from the bedroom made him open his eyes and turn in that direction with a start. There was another scream and what sounded like a hefty slap then the noise of something, like a lamp-shade, crashing to the floor followed by another scream, a slap and what sounded like Billy cursing heavily.

‘Shit. What was that?' said Norton rising up off the lounge.

‘Oh God,' said Francis throwing her hands over her face. ‘I knew this would happen. I just knew it.' She pushed herself away from Les and stared in terror at the bedroom door.

‘Knew what would happen?' Les was mystified as Francis sat stock still on the lounge, her hands over her nose and mouth, her eyes still staring out in horror over the tops of her fingers towards the bedroom.

Suddenly the bedroom door burst open and out stormed an absolutely ropeable Billy Dunne with a completely terrified Colette gripped savagely by the scruff of the neck. Tears were pouring down her pretty face and she was almost choking as Billy viciously shook her around like a dog with a rat. He still had his tuxedo on but the front of Colette's dress was undone and her bra-strap was down over one shoulder. Billy was totally livid, Norton couldn't even remember seeing him in such a state, his eyes were rolling around in his head and his face was almost black with rage.

‘Have a fuckin' go at this,' he hissed vehemently through clenched teeth as he switched on the main light and speared poor little Colette roughly on to the lounge. She burst into more tears and tried frantically to crawl over to Francis for protection but Billy grabbed her brutally by the hair and dragged her back.

‘Have a fuckin' go at this!' he roared again as Les stood up to get out of the road. He was dumbfounded but at the same time curiously amused.

‘So this is your sister Colette, is it? You fat fuckin' bitch,' he snarled at the ashen faced Francis sitting trembling at one end of the lounge. ‘Your sister, eh?'

Wild-eyed, Billy reached down and lifted up Colette's dress. She made a pathetic attempt to stop him but Billy gave her a short back-hander across the top of her head, making her scream and cover her face up with her hands. He pulled her dress up over her chest, then grabbing hold of her skimpy little lace knickers tore them down over her legs and flung them across the room.

‘Here Les,' he roared again, spreading Colette's legs wide apart. ‘Have a look at this. What's that?' He stabbed his finger in the direction of Colette's crutch.

Feeling a little embarrassed but at the same time slightly bemused, Norton bent down over Colette for a closer inspection of her little brown fanny and find out what Billy was going on
about. It was all clean and tidy and trimmed up all right but instead of a nice, neat little ted, sitting there was a tiny little penis, not much bigger than the filter on a King-size cigarette. And dangling loosely beneath it was one, solitary, medium sized testicle.

Norton stood there blinking for a moment. ‘Well I'll be buggered,' he said bending down further for a closer look. ‘It's a dick.' He gave it a little flick with his index finger. ‘And that's a ball.' He gave it a little flick too and looked up at the still fuming Billy Dunne, trying not to smile. ‘It's definitely not a drop-kick, mate. Definitely not a snatch.' He stood up and shook his head slowly. Being an old Queensland country boy he'd never encountered anything like this before. ‘Well I'll be buggered,' he said again, slowly stroking his chin.

‘Yeah. A bloke. A rotten fuckin' drag-queen. But I'll tell you what. It's the last time you'll ever pull this caper, you prick of a thing.' Billy pulled back his fist to punch Colette in the face but Norton grabbed his arm just as Francis screamed.

‘Hey come on, turn it up,' he said pushing Billy up against the wall. Norton wasn't turning on his good mate but Colette wasn't much bigger than a jockey and the state Billy was in and with his strength if he'd have hit Colette there was no doubt he'd cause her a serious injury. Possibly kill her. ‘Come on mate, settle down. Don't do something you'll only regret.' He stood between Billy and Colette with his hands held up but open and hoping to Christ he wouldn't have to belt one of his closest friends for his own good. Billy's eyes flashed murderously at Norton for a second then over at the two on the lounge then back at Norton. He stood there shaking with rage for a moment then started to settle down a bit, running the back of his hand across his mouth and wiping a few flecks of foam from his lips. He gulped in a few short breaths of air, still glaring fiendishly at Colette but after a few more seconds he calmed down a bit more. ‘Come on mate. It's all sweet,' said Norton, slapping him lightly on the shoulder and winking. ‘It's all sweet.'

The terrified Colette in the meantime had crawled up to Francis and was cuddled trembling into her ample bosom, noisily crying her eyes out. Francis had her fat arms around her and was softly patting the back of her head. ‘There, there, Col. It's all right. No one's going to hurt you. It's all right.' She made
a pitiful sight as she looked up at Norton. Her face was all red and flushed and big, glistening tears were streaming down over her fat cheeks, splashing on her double chins. Her eye make-up had run everywhere, leaving black lines all over her face and it looked as if someone had got two prunes and squashed them into the sockets of her eyes. ‘Please don't hurt her,' she pleaded up at Norton. ‘She didn't really mean any harm. Please Les.' She hugged Colette closer into her and gently patted her head again. ‘I'm sorry it happened. I really am, but if you want some money there's some money in my purse. You can have it. But please don't hurt us. Please.'

Norton couldn't help but feel a sense of squeamishness and sympathy at the pathetic sight of poor fat Francis trying desperately to protect her sister, or brother or whatever from the pair of them, big and all as they were, and the pitiful look on her tear-stained face as she offered them her money to try to shield Colette tugged awkwardly at his heart-strings. Though Les was the kind of bloke who wouldn't think twice about kicking some mug's head near off his shoulders in a street fight, the very thought of hurting poor Francis and to think that she might think he would, filled him with compassion and revulsion.

He looked down at her and gave her a bored sort of smile. ‘No one's going to hurt you, Francis,' he said, shaking his head slowly. ‘And I sure as hell don't want your money. But there's one thing I do want. I wouldn't mind a bloody explanation as to just what is going on here. Even if it's only for Billy's sake.' Norton nodded seriously at Billy, still scowling at them sullenly from against the wall, and turned back to Francis. ‘Now I've been pretty fair dinkum with you all night,' he continued, pointing his finger at Francis. ‘I even fancied you, being a Queensland girl. I mean I wouldn't have come back here if I didn't would I? So what about levelling with me. What's all this shit you've been feeding me about hair-dressing salons in Brisbane and coming down for your sister's operation. What's the bloody truth?'

Francis produced a crumpled kleenex-tissue from somewhere inside her dress, blew her nose vigorously into it and dabbed at her eyes. ‘Well,' she sniffed, ‘most of what I told you is true Les. We do own a hair-dressing salon in Brisbane and Colette did come down for an operation. But . . . it was a sex-change operation.'

‘A sex-change operation?'

‘Yes, that's right. A sex-change operation.'

‘Yeah?' Norton's curiosity was suddenly aroused. ‘What do they do? Cut it off and tuck it in sort of thing.'

‘Something like that. Col goes into the Wolvermann Private Hospital in Edgecliff on Monday and she's out on Wednesday. It takes about 14 days to heal and then Col's finally a woman.'

‘Just like that?'

‘Just like that.'

‘Ah well, that explains everything Billy,' said Norton turning to the expressionless Billy Dunne standing against the wall. ‘You were just a fortnight too early old son. Another two weeks and you wouldn't have known the difference.' Billy said nothing but muttered something filthy under his breath.

‘You don't know what it's been like all these years, Les,' continued Francis, giving her nose another wipe. ‘Col's been like that since . . . well since the day she was born. Basically she is a woman. But she was just unfortunate to be born with that . . . that . . . what ever it is.'

‘One and a bit I s'pose you'd call it.'

Francis ignored Les's laconic description of her sister's genitalia. ‘We've had to hide it in the family through school, work, going to the beach. Col's 22, she's always been good looking but never seems to have a boyfriend. The rest of our relations and other people are always wondering why. It hasn't been easy, Les, I can tell you.'

‘Well why didn't you get the bloody thing done in Brisbane years ago?'

Francis laughed scornfully through her tears. ‘A sex-change operation in Queensland? Are you kidding, Les. The way Bjelke and the rest of those Bible bashing Right-to-Lifers have got it sewn up up there you just about need a prescription to get a brassiere. Besides, they cost almost $10,000 with your accommodation and air fares. And you don't get any of it back.'

‘Yeah. Fair enough I suppose.'

‘Col didn't mean any harm. But Billy asked her for a dance and he just swept her off her feet. She told me when we went to the ladies he was the spunkiest guy she'd ever met. She . . . she just literally fell in love at first sight. She just couldn't help herself. And I like you too, Les. You know that?'

Up against the wall Billy was still glaring at Colette with hatred and contempt but his ego had just been given a bit of a massage so his temper came down a couple of degrees. He looked at Norton for a moment or two but still didn't say anything. Finally Les spoke.

‘Well, what do you reckon mate?' he said, checking his watch and giving Billy a light slap on the shoulder. ‘It's gettin' on for five o'clock. We hit the toe?'

Billy didn't say anything for a few moments — he just stared sourly at Colette and Francis. ‘Yeah come on. Let's get the fuck out of here.' He turned abruptly and headed for the door without saying another word, leaving Les standing there. ‘Come on, are you coming?' he called sharply from the doorway.

‘Yeah, righto.' Les smiled down at Francis and moved over to the lounge stroking his chin slowly. ‘Well Francis,' he said ‘I wouldn't say it's been a good night. But it's certainly been different. If nothing else.'

‘Yes, I'm sorry about that, Les,' she sniffed. ‘I really am. But you've got the room number, I'm here till Wednesday. If there's no hard feelings call around.'

‘Yeah, we'll see what happens.' He put his hand on Fran's shoulder and gave it a bit of a pat. She put her hand softly on his.

‘Good night Les.'

‘Yeah. I'll see you later Francis.' He stopped for a second and looked at Colette. ‘See you . . . Col.' Colette glanced up briefly then put her head back on Fran's bosom and continued crying.

‘Come on. Are you coming or what?' Billy barked from the door.

Billy was heading rapidly for the lift when Norton joined him in the hallway. Although his temper had cooled down slightly he was still very volatile and extremely bitter about the way things had turned out. It wasn't just the fact that he'd missed out on having sex, his pride along with his manhood had been severely dented. Billy was a man's man and completely heterosexual; the very thought of anything apart from that was complete anathema to him and he was not in the slightest bit amused.

Norton, on the other hand, was laughing fit to bust inside and it was all he could do to keep a straight face as he watched Billy stab viciously at the down button outside the elevator.

‘The sooner I'm out of this fuckin' joint the better it suits me,' he said contemptuously.

‘Yeah. It's been a funny sort of night all right,' replied Les, his tongue planted firmly in his cheek.

‘Funny? I don't know what's so fuckin' funny about it.'

‘Yeah I s'pose you're right. Colette really . . . ballsed things up, in her own funny sort of way didn't she?'

‘I'd like to go back in there and break it's stinkin' little neck is what I'd like to do.' Billy stabbed savagely at the illuminated arrow pointing down again. ‘Come on. What's this fuckin' lift doing?' A second or two later the lift clumped to a stop at their floor, a bell rang and the door hissed open.

‘Anyway,' said Norton as they stepped inside. ‘I don't know what you're goin' crook about. If anyone's entitled to blow up it's me.'

‘What are you talking about?' said Billy, banging the ground floor button with the side of his fist.

‘Well, I was going all right with Francis on the lounge. I was just about to get her pants off when you came out puttin' on your drama and stuffed things up. So I missed out on a root. It's enough to give you the shits.'

Billy stared scornfully at Les. ‘Are you fair dinkum?' he sneered. ‘You're not beefing about missing out on rooting that horrible ugly fat thing are you?'

‘Well Billy, she might have been horrible, ugly and fat but she was definitely a sheila. I was having a good feel around there till you blew up and there was definitely no niagras there I can tell you. It might have been a bit like Santa Claus's beard when he's got a cold but it was definitely a snatch, mate. No question about it.'