Smoko At East Seaham, Page 2

CHAPTER 2

  THE ODD COUPLE OF SHEILAS

  Two weary shoppers met at the corner of a busy street intersection, in a suburb close to Brisbane.

  ‘Oh…these bags,’ says Joyce. ‘They’re so darn heavy! Ohhh, they’re cutting right into my fingers!’

  ‘Yeah…mine too,’ says Ellen. ‘My poor feet, they ache something shocking!’

  ‘Come on then,’ says Joyce! ‘What are we standing for? Let’s sit ourselves down here on this bus seat for a mo’, before we cross the road. Then you can rest your dogs, while I get some blood back in me flippin’ fingers.’

  ‘Phoo,’ said Ellen. ‘It’s stinkin’ hot, in’t? But, I do think there’s just a little teeny-weeny bit of a breeze getting up. What do you reckon?’

  ‘Oh, yeah’, says Joyce. ‘And there’ll be an even bigger breeze in a minute, when this here bus comes thundering past.’ As the bus hurtled past they both turned their faces away.

  ‘Oh, Jeepers!’ cries Ellen. ‘Poooooh,’ she tries to fan the fumes away with her hand. ‘Just look at all that awful black smoke! Isn’t it disgusting?’

  ‘You know what?’ says Joyce. ‘I reckon that old Mr Diesel should be dug up and shot! Preferably after they’ve made him sit here for a week!’

  ‘Oh, now’ says Ellen, ‘That’s a bit extreme, isn’t it?’

  ‘Well, he was a foreigner, wasn’t he, right? Well my mum always used to say “You can’t trust them there foreigners”.’

  ‘Oh yeah!’ replied Ellen. ‘I suppose, according to your mum, that foreigners were just about anybody what came from south of the Queensland border – right?’

  ‘Yes, well, of course,’ replied Joyce. ‘Nothing any good ever comes up from down there, I reckon. Present company, excluded of course.’

  ‘What about your pension?’ asked Ellen.

  ‘My pension? What about my pension?’ asked Joyce. ‘What’s that got to do with anythink?’

  ‘Well,’ said Ellen with a winning smile. ‘That comes from ‘down there’ – don’t it?’

  ‘Oh, does it?’ Joyce said a bit surprised. ‘Does it really? Oh, yeah well; that just proves that other old rule, don’t it?’

  ‘And what ‘other old rule’ is that then?’

  ‘Ah,’ said Joyce. ‘The other old rule is: “There’s always exceptions to every known rule”!’

  ‘Oh really?’ said Ellen, almost lost for words.

  ‘I’m not against all foreigners. I mean for a start, you come from Victoria – don’t cha? And I don’t hold that against you, do I?’

  ‘No? No, not much you don’t.’ said Ellen despondently.

  The conversation was halted as two giant trucks and another bus went by.

  ‘What happened to Harry?’ asked Ellen.

  ‘Harry?’ queried Joyce. ‘What, Harry? My old man, do you mean? At the moment I’m just worried about when the next 361 bus will come by.’

  ‘Yes. Yes, your Harry’.

  ‘Well he died, didn’t he?’ said Joyce.

  ‘I know that…’

  ‘Then why ask? Unless you mean what did he actually die from? What killed him, like - eh?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Ellen. ‘That’s exactly what I mean.’

  ‘Oh, well. That’s pretty much to the point alright. But why? Did you think I killed ‘im?’

  ‘No. No, no real reason,’ said Ellen. ‘I just sort of… wondered, that’s all. I suppose you’ve told me, in the past. But then’, somewhat wearily, ‘you’ve told me such a lot of things.’

  ‘Oh, yeah, I suppose I must have. Anyways,’ Joyce paused for a bit, ‘Munchin’s Disease’. That’s it. That’s what it was. Yes, ‘Munchin’s Disease’ is what killed him. An awful lot of people die from that – more and more every year!’

  ‘‘Munchin’s Disease’? Oh, that sounds I don’t know, all sort of foreign – like German, maybe. Was it something rare? I bet it was. Oh, Joyce. It must’ve been an awful, awful way for him to go.’

  ‘No. No, not rare and it weren’t really awful either.’

  ‘Weren’t awful?’

  ‘No, no, nothing like it,’ said Joyce. ‘It was all very Aussie and quite common. Just like him, eh? He was all Aussie and common – and proud of it too, my Harry, wasn’t he?’

  ‘Oh, yes,’ said Ellen, thinking back to the old days. ‘He was all that alright.’

  ‘Anyway, I like to think my Harry died reasonably happy. Doing what he liked to do, right to the very end. That’s the best way, you know. If you really gotta go.’

  ‘Of course,’ said Ellen, firmly. ‘Yes of course, you’re right. That is what they say, don’t they? Like dying while you’re playing golf. Or playing darts in the pub. Driving your car or flying a plane. If you like those sort of things. Oh, I’m so pleased to hear that he died doing what he liked. That’s a good ending, that is. But I feel much happier about it, now I know that.’

  Again their conversation was interrupted by heavy traffic pouring past.

  ‘What was he actually doing then? What was he doing that he liked so much? Oh! Oh no, I’m sorry! I shouldn’t have asked that! I shouldn’t be forcing you to bring back memories you’d rather forget. I mean it must have been awful for you, him going when you weren’t expecting it.’

  ‘Oh don’t be silly, Ellen. You’ve been watching too much telly, you have.’

  ‘What then? What is ‘Munchin’s Disease’?’

  ‘You don’t know nothing about anything! Do you want me to draw you a picture or somethink? ‘Munchin’s Disease’ means, well… the Doctor did tell me – but I’ve forgotten. I didn’t particularly want to remember that either. But now, since you’ve been and brought it all back, let’s just say he died from well... too much munching on this and too much munching on that. And that’s the truth. I know it! Not to mention what he washed it all down with.’

  ‘Oh, you might call it over-indulgence on food - and booze – and sex?’

  ‘Right! You got it, at last! He simply enjoyed himself, eating and drinking my inheritance away. Right to the bloomin’ end. Then the old bludger died and left me nothing but an empty fridge and an empty pantry! He knew it too. I reckon that’s why he had such a cheeky smile on his face – the old bugger!’

  There was a short pause as they watched about a dozen motor cycles passing by.

  ‘Here!’ said Ellen. ‘What you keep doing that for?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘This,’ Ellen demonstrated by waving her hand.

  ‘Oh, that? I was just trying to catch the eye of that gent over there, look.’

  ‘Which gent over there?’

  ‘Any gentleman over there! At my age I can’t afford to be too fussy – and neither can you! We’ve both been widows far too long!’

  ‘My God! You’ll get us both arrested one day!’

  ‘Oh, I do hope so,’ said Joyce. ‘Some of them Policemen aren’t half bad either. Hey! This here bus seat used to be a great pick-up point for sheilas during the war, didja know that?’

  ‘No. I was too young, wasn’t I? You were an’ all!’

  ‘I’ll say. But this seat was said to be especially hot when the Navy was in. Yeah. This corner spot was where all the action was. You should’ve asked your mother afore she died. I bet this seat left an impression on her – and more than once too. I bet she remembered it to the end. You should have asked. With a bit of luck she might even have remembered who your father was.’

  ‘Don’t be so damn rude!’ protested Ellen.

  ‘Sorry. I didn’t mean it. Just a joke.’

  (PAUSE)

  ‘You know, I sometimes think I’m, well, getting past it,’ confessed Ellen.

  ‘Past it? Noooo. Don’t be daft! A good woman is never past it! A bloke might, but a woman, no. Mind you, she might fall behind a wee bit with what’s what today – you know, by today’s standards. But, with a nod and a wink for a bit of encouragement, y
ou’d soon get your old ‘oomph’ back. Trust me. I know plenty who’ve got back into it after a bit of a break.’

  ‘You don’t think we should, you know, forget all about ‘it’ then?’

  ‘Oh, yes, of course. We should all forget about ‘it’ – when we’re dead, mate! That’s time enough!’

  ‘Well, maybe so,’ said Ellen. ‘But I think maybe I’ve put on a bit of weight. Still, some older men like the fuller figure, don’t they?’

  ‘Oh, you’ve got a fuller figure alright. No denying it. In fact, if your pounds were currency, I dare say you’d be quite a wealthy woman!’

  Ellen laughed. ‘Well, I haven’t put on too much, have I? Come on, I’ve only gone up one or two dress sizes.’

  ‘Look, the only problem with your figure, mate, is that you’ve obviously lost your fight with gravity; there’s no denying that! So don’t bother. There’s very little you can do about it, unless, of course, you’ve got buckets of money and you know a Doctor with a keen eye and sharp knife!’

  ‘There’s really nothing wrong in that department that a new girdle and wonder bra wouldn’t fix, is there?’ Ellen asked.

  ‘Oh, yes. You can try all that stuff, if you like. But personally, I think they are all a waste of money! You see, the women wonder how you’ve got the cheek to wear ‘em and the men begin to wonder if what they’re seeing in the window are the same as what they’ll see in bed!’

  ‘Well that’s for them to find out then, isn’t it?’ said Ellen, confidently.

  ‘And if they’re disappointed, mate – what then?’

  ‘Really! What a cheek!’ exclaimed Ellen.

  ‘Sorry. I didn’t mean to offend.’

  There was a pause while a garbage truck thundered by.

  ‘You know when I was a young teenager,’ said Ellen, ‘I was very much sought after.’

  ‘Yeah,’ said Joyce. ‘Where was that then - behind the bike sheds?’

  Ellen let it go. They were both getting just a bit overheated. Ellen began to fan herself with a newspaper. Joyce joined in by fanning herself with a shoe.

  Then Ellen, excitedly said: ‘Oh, look: There’s a man coming over. Do you know him?’

  ‘Know him? No, but I think I soon will.’

  The ladies quickly abandoned their fanning and adjusted their dresses.

  ‘Good morning, ladies.’

  ‘What a brave man you are, Sir,’ said Ellen. ‘You take your life in your hands when you cross the road just here and no mistake. We were worried for you. My heart was in my mouth.’

  ‘G’day, mate! I’m Joyce and this is my friend Ellen, who’s just leaving.’ She gave Ellen a wink and a subtle shooing motion with her hands.

  Ellen coyly asked: ‘Can… can we help you, Mr er….?’

  ‘Oh. Roger. Roger Deville. How’d ya do? I’m looking for er… er… a man.’

  ‘A man?’ they both exclaimed together, somewhat disappointedly.

  ‘Er, I mean a man… a man’s shop.’

  ‘Oh, strife! Mate, you had me worried there, you really did!’

  ‘Socks?’ queried Ellen.

  ‘Ties?’ asked Joyce.

  ‘Maybe shirts?’ said Ellen.

  ‘Personal hygiene, perhaps?’ suggested Joyce.

  ‘Shusssh’ uttered Ellen.

  ‘Hats. I’m looking for hats. This sun is so strong today.’

  ‘There ain’t been any hat shops around here for years and years,’ said Joyce. ‘Mind you, Ellen here might know where they were. She’s been around for years and years too.’

  ‘Aah, now, it so happens I can help you’ said Ellen, smiling broadly. ‘There’s a Myer’s department store quite nearby.’

  ‘I was just about to say that! I have an account there and they do stock a fair range of hats for ladies. A bit expensive mind, but one should go for quality in all things at all times, don’t you think? I’m sure they will have a reasonably good range of headgear for gentlemen such as your good self. They will readily exchange anything that doesn’t give 100% satisfaction.’

  Roger swayed a little unsteadily on his feet.

  ‘Oh, are you alright Roger?’ queried Ellen.

  ‘Er, well, come to think of it, I haven’t eaten for a quite a while. I didn’t bother with breakfast this morning either. You often don’t when you live alone.’

  ‘Exactly! We were just saying something similar, weren’t we Ellen?’

  ‘Oh, oh yes.’

  ‘And you know, men and women weren’t put on this planet to live alone, Roger. It’s sooo unnatural, don’t you think?’

  ‘Well, I er… I suppose so.’

  ‘Anyway, we were just going for a bite to eat, weren’t we Ellen?’

  ‘Yes. Oh, yes. Absolutely.’

  ‘Why don’t you come with us? It’s only a few minutes’ walk from here. We could have a cup of coffee to refresh ourselves and then we could, if you like, help you pick out a hat, or whatever. Then perhaps have a bite to eat? We often eat out, don’t we Ellen?’

  ‘We don’t, do we? I… er.. mean,we do, don’t we?’

  Joyce deftly pushed one of Ellen’s shopping bags well under the seat and out of sight.

  ‘Now let me take your arm, Roger. I think, as you are feeling a bit faint, that it’s my duty to see you safely across the road. Ellen! You go first to stop the traffic. Be brave, my girl and don’t let anybody intimidate you. Just hold your shopping bags up, so they can read the labels and see you are a woman of quality and good standing in the community. Ready, now? Forward…’

  When they were half-way across the busy road, Joyce said to Ellen: ‘I do believe my dear, that you may have left one of your little green bags under the seat back there.’

  ‘Oh, no!’ said Ellen, as she turns and sees that she has indeed left her bag under the seat.

  ‘Now, back you go, dear. You can’t afford to waste good food, not at the price it is today! Go on now!’

  Ellen braced herself and then darted swiftly back between the heavy traffic flow, towards the bus seat.

  ‘Roger dear, we simply cannot stand here dithering in the middle of the road. Come on now, but be careful.’ When they reached the other side of the road, Joyce said: ‘No, no, don’t stop, Roger. We’re going this way and Ellen’s going the other way.’ As they turned the corner the shopping centre was there before them and she continued: ‘Now you are obviously a man of culture, how about we go see a show, or perhaps a movie? On the other hand, there are some excellent restaurants in this part of town and I can see you are looking so much better already.’