CHAPTER SEVEN
Sean and Kelly had a hurried breakfast, and walked quickly to the newsagent, on the main street. The notice was still there, and they went in. Yes, he did have two rooms to rent, upstairs above the shop. They had a quick look, and decided it would be a big improvement. It would mean cooking themselves, but they would be on their own. The coming baby, would be another incentive to move, from the boarding house. They would move in next Monday, and leaving a deposit, left to catch transport to work.
Sean spent much of the day, mulling over the prospects of changing jobs. It had taken an enormous amount of manipulating, and a lot of good luck for both of them to score jobs, so soon after arriving. He could cope with the change, unless, he bogged down in the system. Only the spectre of identity, might end it.
The party on Saturday night, and a trip to Manly, seemed to be a change in their fortunes. At lunch, it was obvious from the other's remarks, that knowledge of his transfer, was well known.
"Too good for us. All this tea gone to you're head?" There was always one in a group.
"Gotta take the breaks, as they come up," he retorted.
"More like the idea, of being close to lovely Miss Leeder. Suppose you fancy your chances." Sean just smiled. It was the same the world over. "Just imagine the old knee trembler, with her," sprouted another.
"And you wouldn't be working here, the next day." It was the foreman, who had arrived unnoticed. "Time for work."
That night, there was an air of something new, for Sean and Kelly. She produced a one piece swimsuit, a loan from Mrs. Jackson. Kelly had mentioned their proposed outing, and whilst it would be a bit cold for swimming, a sun bake on the beach, would be nice. Ten minutes later, a men’s swimsuit, still smelling of mothballs, arrived at their room.
The next few days, went without any problems, and as Sean finished up in the store on Friday, he relented, and joined the team for a drink, after work, especially as they offered to pay. He only got one down, and it was time to leave. Kelly arrived home after him, and he rubbed in the point that tomorrow he could lay in, whilst she had to do a half day. He relented in the end, and agreed to meet her at one and check out the Botanical Gardens, before coming home, to get ready for the evening.
* * * * *
Allan spent Wednesday, with Bernie, driving the truck and peeling potatoes. In Strathfield, he came out of a shop with a large paper sack of bread rolls and squashed cakes, and nearly walked into the policeman, he and Robert had had the tete to tete with. Luckily, he was looking the other way, and Allan deftly swung the sack around to block his face, and hopped into the truck. He could have made a point that he was a community spirited person, but he couldn't be bothered. And it was his nature to avoid people in authority, even in 1950.
After the locals, for that was what Bernie called them, had eaten, he grabbed some food, which wasn't so bad, except the meat, which was definitely off, and decided to have a shave, when he got home. Robert would already be home, but when he arrived, about eight o'clock, a note on the dresser, said he had gone for a short walk. Allan checked that the bathroom was empty, and back in their room, stripped off, wrapped a towel around him, and grabbing the razor, he had 'obtained' at the centre, went to the top floor bathroom, and started shaving.
He had just about finished, not yet used to these old cut throats, when there was a nock at the door, and a voice said words like 'left something'. He was rinsing his face under the tap at the time. Putting the towel about his waist, he yelled "OK". He made a gulping sound, as a woman, about thirty or so, walked in, straight towards him. He hadn't thought about a woman being at the door, for some reason.
"Hi. I'm Cindy. You must be one of the new fellows."
Allan stood there, one hand on his waist, making sure the towel stayed where it was. "Allan."
"Looking good for an older bloke," she said, eyeing him up and down. Allan blushed. "Left my talc, up on the shelf behind you."
He turned, and lifted the hand from his waist, to reach the tin. At that instant, she grabbed his towel, and pulled it away, moving back quickly to the door. He automatically turned around, then realised, he was naked. He put his hands across his front, perplexed as what to do. There was nothing else handy.
"Hey. Do you mind?" The words were automatic. He felt his face burning.
"Definite improvement," she taunted, and disappeared out the door, with his towel. He stood there stunned for a few seconds, then went to the door, and gingerly poked his head out. No girl and no towel.
"Hell," he said aloud. He went back inside, and looking around, he grabbed the only thing available. Several lengths of toilet paper. Before he could do anything, an elderly woman walked into the bathroom, probably as he had left the door open. She took one look, let out a large scream, and bolted. He managed to get out the words "I can explain...." At this stage, he gave up caring.
Dumping the paper on the seat, he just walked out, razor in his hand, and down the hall. A door opened, and a young fellow started to come out. The fellow, took one look, said " I don't want to know," and dived back inside, slamming his door. Allan, just looked, too fazed to care. He walked into the bedroom, locked the door, and then let go. The laughter could be heard all over the floor. With tears streaming down his face, it took him five minutes to stop laughing. He dressed in a shirt and slacks, he had found at the back of the refuge, and grabbing his parka, opened the door, a little way. With a clear coast, he shot downstairs, quietly past the front rooms, and outside. He desperately wanted a drink, but the price of a sherry, was at this moment, not attractive.
Outside, he wanted a smoke, then realising he didn't smoke, headed off down the street, towards Parramatta Road. A tram cruised past. He didn't know where it went to, but he was sure, Robert knew. Robert knew all about trams and trains, and anything that flew.
He almost walked past Robert, before realising it.
"Allan. Where are you off to?", dragging Allan back to reality.
"Oh Christ, there you are. Where'd you get to?". Allan just didn't know whether to get angry or laugh.
"Just went for a walk. See if there were any little bistros and cafes, like '98. I left a note."
"The chances of having a room, when we get back, are pretty slim. And we are sharing a towel, as of this moment." Allan didn't look at Robert, as he spoke, but strode on.
"Whoo. Hold on." Allan stopped. "What's up?", said Robert.
Allan relaxed. "Whilst you are chasing a woman, with a view, maybe, and I respect your intentions, to maybe ending up with no clothes on, I have been, naked, not a stitch, with two women, and come to think about it, a bloke, and I am so embarrassed. Talk about a French farce." All Robert could say, was "Tell."
And Allan told. They were both in stitches, and still laughing, when they entered the front door, and went upstairs. Outside their room, neatly folded, was Allan's towel.
Allan got in before Robert could say it. "Don't say a word. No doubt, when we finally use the dining room, it won't be a secret, that's for sure."
Next morning, they did use the dining room. It was very early, but there were two other people eating. a perfunctory good morning, but that was it. They walked quickly to the railway station, and Allan left the train at Ashfield. Robert reminded Allan, that tonight he was meeting Myra, so he would try to get off promptly, and go home and change, and get back again. Allan wouldn't be through until around eight, too late for the boarding house meal, so he would grab a bite, and see him, whenever.
That evening, Robert had rushed back to the boarding house, fumed as he had to wait for the bathroom, and then went back to Burwood. he arrived just after eight, outside the cafe, looked through the window, but couldn't see Myra. Then she was there, beside him. He hadn't noticed her arrive, and got a shock. She was dressed in a two piece black suit, smartly cut, and a laced blouse, through which, glimpses of a bra were visible. A small but fashionable hat, and a matching handbag, completed the outfit. By comparison, Robert was far from what he would normally wear on such an occasion. Allan had snaffled the trousers, and the shirt came from a second hand store, at lunch time. Still, he was reasonable, he thought, only his shoes a little lack lustre.
"Punctual. Speaks well of a man," she said, and extended her hand. He took it, but instead of shaking, he bent down, and kissed it lightly. "There are so few gentlemen, around today. Shall we go?".
"Did you have a place in mind. I'm not very familiar......"
She cut in. "I thought the Grosvenor, would be appropriate. Not far."
Robert panicked. He had a very meagre cash reserve. She may have sensed his anxiety, for she added, "I understand, new to the area, you may not have been able to transfer suitable funds, yet. Tonight, will be my treat."
Robert started to protest. Inwardly he hoped, he wouldn't succeed. She put up her hand. "No buts. I'm sure, the future, will provide occasions for you to redeem yourself."
The Grosvenor, would have indeed, been a problem to Robert. It was a small but obviously very fashionable restaurant, just off the main street. It was crowded, but the waiter, led them directly to a small table, towards the back. Apart from the noises of people enjoying a meal, Robert could pick out the smell of cigarette smoke, quite distinctly. One cultural change, he would have to readjust to.
This was her place, that is, thought Robert, where she was a regular customer, and quite at home.
"Pre dinner drink?," he offered. She settled for a cream sherry. He was mature enough, to chose differently for himself.
"A man who is himself, not just out to follow. I could get to like you, Robert." She took a sip when it arrived, gave an almost imperceptible nod of approval to the waiter, and touched glasses. "Here's to saving children, and.....and to us."
The evening flowed, and came the time to depart. Robert couldn't really find any more excuses, to stay. She was a skilled conversationalist; he, a man with a mission. The question he wanted to know, but couldn't ask, because it wasn't a question really, was did she like him, or was this just a person to eat with, and show off.
In her mind, that was already settled. Most of her admirers, were charming, but stereoed and boring. They were out to impress her; exaggerate themselves and have an eye on her money. This man was a contradiction. He had style, but had no money. That was obvious. But he was either very skilled, or he was just not interested in it. He was relaxed, open, and she felt the same. There was this sense, of being not afraid of the future, yet at the same time, a fear of it. What was his story? It would have to come naturally, the same as falling in love. She wondered about letting herself. go this far.
They walked slowly back towards the Blue Bell. Once, when her free hand, brushed his, he took it. She did not resist, nor comment. Robert's head was in a whirl. 'It may be the wine', he thought, 'but for the first time in years, I'm so comfortable.'
So soon, too soon each thought, they arrived at the entrance to her flat. They stood there, in the dim lighting from the street, saying nothing for a while.
"Thank you, Robert, for a wonderful evening. Perhaps we could meet again.....soon." She held out her hand again.
Robert knew that relationships were often made or lost, on a person's reply, at this very moment. He wanted to lift her off her feet, and carry her to place, where they could be alone. To understand each other. To be together. He knew what to do.
He took her hand, and moving his head closer, gave her a light kiss on the cheek. She blushed, and her eyes sparked. "I hope it's soon," he said. She turned, and opened the door to the stairs, stepped inside, and turning around, looked at him. "Come for supper, on Saturday. Say after nine. I'll have something brought up from the kitchen. Knock four times." She smiled, turned on her heel, and the door closed.
He stood there for a full minute, an inner glow, keeping his spirits soaring. The trauma of being flung back in time, far from his thoughts. Then, walked briskly to the railway station.
Allan was asleep, when he entered the room, so he was a little glad, he could keep his evening, to himself, just a little longer. He slept the sleep of a contented person.