Coal Flat
2
2
‘I’ll ask Frank,’ Doris said. ‘If he says it’s all right, then it’s all right by me.’
She and Flora faced Rogers across a kitchen table already laid. The potatoes and turnips were boiling, the mince simmering, and the custard pudding cooling. ‘He ought to be in any minute now,’ Doris said.
Frank pushed the door open roughly and took in the scene with a surly but not unfriendly look. He gave Doris a rough kiss and sat down to take off his working boots. ‘What, you not in goal yet?’ he said to Rogers.
‘The case was dismissed,’ Doris said. ‘Paul’s feeling a bit feather-headed now. Who wouldn’t be?’
‘Feather-headed!’ Rogers protested. ‘I’m worn out.’
‘Yeah, I heard at the mine,’ Frank said. ‘By God, it just shows you. Bloody lying little brat. It’s hard to credit that a kid could think up a story like that.’
‘His father had a hand in it,’ Rogers said, ‘I don’t believe Peter knew what it was all about.’
Frank went to the kitchen sink and washed himself noisily. He left them and came back in his socks wearing a clean singlet and a softer pair of trousers. Doris was straining the vegetables. ‘Put on a shirt,’ she said. ‘We’ve got company.’
Frank sneered. ‘Ar! This isn’t the Grand Hotel.’
‘You’ll get a cold, Frank,’ Doris said.
Frank got up unwillingly to get a shirt. ‘Anybody’d think they’d never seen a man’s chest before.’ He stood at the door and expanded his chest. He pulled up his singlet and tautened the hard shield of his stomach muscles. ‘How do you like that, Flor?’ he asked. ‘I bet Paul can’t do as good as that.’ Doris put down the saucepans and pushed him to the door. ‘Frank!’ she said petulantly slapping his buttocks, and he went out chuckling.
During the meal Doris said, ‘The boy’s got to go to a convent. The judge said.’
‘Best place for him,’ Frank said. ‘Keep him out of trouble.’
‘It made him worse last time,’ Rogers said.
‘Well, it’s not your worry,’ Frank said.
‘Paul reckons someone ought to adopt him,’ Doris said.
‘Who the hell’d want to adopt a kid like that?’ Frank said. ‘What the hell are you worrying about him for? He got you into trouble enough.’
‘Someone’s got to do something for him,’ Rogers said. ‘Everybody passes the buck to someone else. They dump him into a convent. He’ll end up a criminal if someone doesn’t try to help him.’
‘You can’t be worried about that.’
‘He’d be a handful but he’d get better if he was properly looked after.’
‘Paul wondered if we could,’ Doris said.
‘Us!’ Frank exploded. ‘Jesus Christ Almighty! What would we want to adopt him for? You don’t adopt kids as old as that. You want them as babies so you can train them young. Anyway the boy’s old man wouldn’t let us. You’ve got to have the parents’ permission. If the judge says he’s got to go to a convent he’s got to go. A court order’s a court order.’
‘It’ll be hard to get around that, Paul,’ Flora said.
‘Anyway, why pick on us?’ Frank said. ‘Look here, it might be known in the family that Doris and I can’t have any of our own, but we don’t want the whole bloody town to know it. You’ve got a bloody check!’ he said to Paul. ‘You don’t need to think we’re so hard up that we’ll snap at any waif and stray that’s offering, do you? We’ve got some bloody self-respect. If we ever do any adopting it won’t be for a while yet, and it’ll be a baby that doesn’t know its mother or its father, that we can bring up our own way; not a ready-made grown-up kid that knows we’re not its parents and’ll throw it up in our faces; not a bloody kid like young Herlihy that’ll invent lies about us and get us taken to court. There’d be nothing safe about the place if we had him here.’
‘Oh well, Paul was just wondering,’ Doris said.
‘ You didn’t want to adopt him, did you?’ Frank said.
‘I said I’d see what you said,’ Doris said, with resignation.
‘I just thought I’d sound you on it,’ Rogers said. ‘There was no harm in trying.’
‘The matter’s closed,’ Frank said. ‘I’m not discussing it any more.’
‘There’s no one will lift a finger to help the boy,’ Rogers said.
‘Everybody says, “What a pity, look at the home he comes from.” But we just dump him into an institution. Nobody will do anything for him. Do you wonder that he’ll grow up to hate people?’
‘I told you before, it’s not your responsibility,’ Frank said.
‘There’s too many nosey-parkering people minding everyone else’s business in this world already.’ He refolded the Evening Star in front of him and started to read.
There was a small knock on the door. ‘Come in,’ Doris shouted eagerly, glad that the discussion was interrupted. Young Donnie came in shyly.
‘Come in, Donnie,’ Doris said, jumping up to kiss him. ‘Have you had your tea?’
‘Yes,’ he said.
‘Then have a cup of milk. Here.’
Flora kissed him too.
‘Auntie Flora, Gran says will you come home. She wants you to come and see her.’
‘You be careful, Flora,’ Frank said. ‘There’s a bloody trap at the end of it, I’ll bet.’
‘Oh, Frank,’ Doris said. ‘How do you know? You can’t blame Mum for wanting to see Flora. She’s been through a worrying time.’
‘If you’ve got any sense,’ Frank said to Rogers, ‘you’ll go with her.’
‘Oh, Frank,’ Doris said. ‘Flora’s got a mind of her own.’
‘Hullo!’ Frank said from his paper. ‘They’ve brought the beer down! I didn’t know that. It’s all over then. They’ve given in. I wonder if that’s why your Mum wants to see Flor.’
‘Then we can go and see them again!’ Doris said joyfully. ‘Gosh, that’s great.’
‘Don’t be in such a hurry,’ Frank said. ‘Wait for a day or two till things get back to normal…. I wonder how many of their old customers will go back there now.’
‘Dad’s trying to get a pub away from the Coast,’ Flora said. ‘They won’t be here long.’
‘They want you to go with them, that’s it,’ Frank said. ‘Paul, you keep your eye on her.’
‘Gran said to tell you she hasn’t been well,’ Donnie said.
‘Looking for sympathy,’ Frank said. ‘If she can’t boss you around she wants you to feel sorry for her. She’s got Don there to feel sorry for her.’
‘Oh, Frank,’ Doris said. ‘Not in front of the kid.’
‘How’s Daddie?’ Flora asked.
‘He’s all right,’ Donnie said; then more surely, ‘He doesn’t talk much. He’s been out all day.’
‘Is Granddad well?’
‘Yes. He went into town today. But Grannie’s not. She locked the front door, ‘cause there was only me and her at home.’
‘I’ll have to go and see her, Paul,’ Flora said. ‘It’s not fair. You come with me.’
‘I bet you won’t be back here to sleep tonight,’ Frank said. Flora didn’t comment.
The three of them crossed the bridge over the creek and climbed to the Roa road. They had passed the bins when the lights of a car shone behind them; they turned to see a Morris Eight slithering fast and unpredictably towards them. They ran to the bracken and blackberry at the side of the road. ‘It’s Daddie’s car!’ Donnie said. The car screeched suddenly to a stop. Don leaned out of the window, with a peculiar drunken leer on his face. ‘Going far?’ he said. ‘Climb in.’ Flora stared sullenly; she had not spoken to him since she walked out of the hotel.
‘You’re drunk, Don,’ Rogers said. ‘You’re not fit to drive.’
‘What of it?’ Don said. ‘You never been drunk before? It’s a good feeling. I’m high, Paul. Four hours’ solid drinking at Roa, not a sod to talk to. Do you know how much it cost me? Sixpence. Just think of that. The beer’s down to sixpence again, and I’ve been drinking it. I’ve been on the spirits too. Rum, whisky, advocaat, everything.’
‘Don, you should have been home with Mum,’ Flora said.
‘Mum’s old enough to take care of herself, isn’t she? She doesn’t want her little Donnie-boy to act the mother to her now, does she? I’m old enough to manage by myself, too, see? That’s what a lot of people don’t seem to understand!’
Donnie began to cry. ‘You go ahead with him, Flora,’ Rogers said. ‘He shouldn’t see his father like this. I’ll catch you up.’ Flora walked off quickly, clutching Donnie’s hand.
‘You know what I want now, Paul?’ Don said. ‘I want a nice woman, like Tess, like that one I had in Christchurch. Not a shrivelled-up old sour-apple like Miss Dane. One that’s slim and wriggles like a lizard underneath me. Or a soft fat widow to wrap herself around me. That’s what I want, and I’d be happy to conk out in the middle of it.’
‘Snap out of it, Don,’ Rogers said. ‘You’ve got yourself into a mess. You ought to go away again and set yourself on your own feet.’
‘It was all in the paper, wasn’t it?’ Don said. ‘About me and that sour-apple schoolteacher in the scrub. That’s friendship, Paul, getting yourself out of trouble by getting me into it.’
‘There’s no comparison. You wouldn’t have gone to gaol. You won’t lose your job.’
‘Now everyone’ll know after all, when she has that snork, that I’m the father.’
‘Miss Dane? Carrying a baby? … Well You could have married her.’
‘I wanted to, Paul, I was going to. But Mum put her foot on it.’
‘Where’s your manhood then? Surely you could have ignored her.’
‘I did in the end. It was too late then, Paul. The old girl had got religion or something. She was queer. She wouldn’t listen to me. She didn’t seem to know what I was talking about. Paul, I tried, do you understand me? I could have set myself up, and to hell with the old woman, and married the old girl but she didn’t want it. What could I do? I couldn’t force her to marry me. And I had a row with the old woman about it.’
‘You’re all in a mess, Don.’
‘She beggared my life,’ Don said. ‘Climb in.’ Rogers climbed into the back seat. ‘What’s that glow ahead?’ Rogers asked. ‘It looks like a fire.’
‘The hobs of hell,’ Don said, and suddenly accelerated. ‘You’re my friend, you were telling me once,’ he said wryly, ‘a friend’ll go anywhere for you. Why don’t you come along with me? I could use some company where I’m going.’
The car was heading diagonally across the road to Mrs Seldom’s house below. ‘You bloody fool,’ Rogers almost screamed and hurled himself through the door. He hit the road on a half-turn, left foot first and slewed painfully round falling on his hip.
He tried to get up but he was too dizzy. He had been sitting there a minute or two when Don lurched overhead. ‘You bloody fool,’ Don said, ‘Did you think I meant it? You should ha’ known me better than that…. Get up.’ He helped Rogers up.
‘I can’t stand on one leg. I’ve ricked my ankle. You’re too unsteady.’ He had to lower himself again. His shoulder was sore and his forehead was bleeding.
‘I’ll get the car if you’ll let me drive you again. I’ll take you to the doctor’s.’
Rogers let Don hoist him as well as he could into the car. ‘I’ll drop you at the quack’s, and then I’m going away, Paul, away. Tonight. Straight after this. I’m going to fill up along the road and drive all night.’
Against the pain, Rogers said: ‘Can’t you leave it till tomorrow, Don? Wait till you’re sober?’
Don didn’t answer. Across the silence came Mrs Palmer’s voice calling plaintively like a child for its mother, ‘Don-NEE! Don-NEE!’