Davo's Little Something (7 page)

‘It certainly is, Robert. I'll tell you what we'll do.'

Wayne explained that the first group didn't come on till 9 so he may as well call round at eight and they could have a few drinks before they left. Davo offered to take his car but Wayne said that seeing as his Alfa Romeo was smaller and easier to park they'd be better off taking it—Davo had
to agree. They chatted for a little while longer; Davo said to say hello to David then hung up telling Wayne he'd see him at eight the following evening.

Well that's alright thought Davo, nodding his head absently at the phone. Seeing as we're going in Wayne's car I'll get half juiced before we go. And seeing as we're not leaving till about 8.30 I'll be able to grab an hour or so's sleep when I get home from work. Beauty. He made another cup of coffee and cleaned up what little mess there was in the kitchen. There was nothing worth watching on TV so he decided to listen to some FM stereo and give the place a bit of a tidy up while he waited for Colin to arrive at nine. Before he started he took Sandra's phone number out of his wallet and wrote it down in a small leatherbound book he kept near the telephone. He didn't throw the old number away but folded it back up and placed it among the other papers in the top drawer of his bedroom dressing table. Davo managed to get the flat cleaned up and had just finished ironing a shirt and a pair of jeans when he heard Colin's knock on the front door. It was just on ten past nine.

‘Ohh, mate, you reckon I haven't had a nice prick of a bloody day,' were the first words Colin said when Davo opened the door and he stormed straight past him into the loungeroom.

He stood there wearing a smart, expensive, red leather, zipfront jacket, jeans and black loafers, shaking his head as he gave Davo a baleful look.

‘Bloody Wollongong. Fair dinkum—you wouldn't send a Jap there on Anzac Day.' Colin started waving one hand round in the air. ‘You should have seen the bloody traffic coming back. And when I get home the bloody old lady starts blowin' up because the dog catcher's got Harry and it cost her $45 to get him out. I paid her straight back mind you. Then she erupts again because the wallopers have been round with a warrant from me old address for parking bloody fines. Three hundred dollars worth. That stinkin', rotten ex-missus of mine has sent 'em round to you know. Jesus, she's a drop-kick of a thing. Fair dinkum—what do you do?'

Colin stood in the loungeroom shaking his head and staring mournfully at Davo who still hadn't had a chance to say hello,
how's things, kiss my arse or anything. The silence continued a few seconds longer till finally Colin spoke.

‘You got a beer?'

Davo nodded towards the kitchen. ‘In the fridge.'

Colin walked into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator. ‘You want one?'

‘Yeah. I s'pose I might as well. I think I need one after that.'

Colin pulled out two cans of Victoria Bitter, slipped the ringpulls off, handed one to Davo and sat down on one of the bar stools in the kitchen still staring at his butcher mate. He took a healthy pull on his can of beer then belched loudly as a deep chuckle rumbled out of his throat and an ironic grin started to form on his face.

‘How're y'goin'. Alright?' he said.

‘Yeah, not bad,' replied Davo. ‘What about yourself?'

Colin didn't answer at first. He just stared at the floor with that same grin on his face and kept shaking his head. ‘You still keen to go out tonight?' he said, looking up.

‘Yeah sure. But I don't want to have a real big one 'cause I'm goin' out tomorrow night.'

‘Yeah? Where're you goin'?'

Davo told Colin about what had happened in Vermillions and how Wayne had invited him to the Santana concert. He told him how he was looking forward to it and had just rung him and it was on for sure. Colin made a few derogatory remarks about his haircut—though he did like it—and a few other derogatory comments as well.

‘So you and your poof mate are going to see Santana eh? Should be a good concert all the same.'

‘The word is gay, Colin.'

Davo's truck driver mate shrugged his shoulder indifferently. ‘Gay. Happy. Merry. Call them what you like. They're still poofs.' He finished his beer and dropped the empty can in the kitchen-tidy. ‘Alright if I grab another one?'

‘Help yourself.'

They had another couple of beers each as they planned their strategy for the night. They'd go straight to The Grand Hotel, if there was any sheilas in the place they'd prop there, if it was no good they'd just have a few beers and give it a miss
till the weekend; Davo was going out the following night and Colin had to be up early in the morning anyway as there was more overtime on. Davo omitted to mention that he'd probably be taking Sandra out on Saturday night. They took their time finishing their beers then Colin offered to take his Ford station wagon to save Davo getting his ute out of the garage. Davo said that was a good idea then threw on a leather jacket pretty much like Colin's only black, locked up the flat and they headed for The Grand.

Not being such a busy night Colin was able to get a parking spot in Bronte Road just up from the hotel. Walking down they decided to have a middy each in the public bar, because the beer's always good. After finishing that they went into the Cock n' Bull: it was getting on for 10.30.

For a Wednesday night there was a surprising number of people inside, though it appeared there was a lot more males than females. Davo went to the bar to get the first shout; while he was standing there waiting to get served he checked out the crowd.

Most of the girls were a bit on the plain side wearing mainly jeans and bulky, rollneck jumpers. They all appeared to be quite clean and tidy though the majority of them looked like it wouldn't hurt if they lost a bit of weight round the backside. The guys were pretty much the same, wearing jeans and jackets and standing around in small groups talking quietly. Some shuffled their feet to a DJ playing mainly 1960 pop songs and up-tempo ballads from a small stand crammed against one of the walls facing the bar.

‘See anything you fancy, Colin?' said Davo, returning with two bottles of XXXX.

‘Nahh, not really. They're mostly all Doris Days tonight,' replied Colin.

‘Yeah. They're all the girl next door aren't they? The blokes all look like Richie Cunningham too.' Davo took a swig from his bottle and belched lightly. ‘Aah you never know. There might be something here worth cutting out of the herd.'

They hung round near the front door for a while then decided to move inside out of the draught, settling on a spot next to some people seated in a cubicle adjacent to the passageway
that ran towards the toilets and another room at the rear. Colin went for a quick wander down and came back.

‘I reckon we ought to prop here,' he said, ‘and see what comes and goes from the bar.'

They had another shout and amused themselves by watching the antics of some of the men who were starting to get a bit drunk and making snide, chauvinistic remarks about most of the girls. Suddenly Colin thought he spotted something worth a second look.

‘Hey, what about those two over there?' He nodded to Davo's left.

Standing between the bar and the DJ was a blonde in a plain, blue dress and her taller darkhaired girlfriend wearing a black lowcut number, with a gaping split up the side that revealed a pair of black fishnet stockings and a not bad pair of legs: their jackets were draped over their arms. The blonde had slightly teased hair and looked a little dumpy but she had pervy looking eyes that seemed to dart everywhere. The taller one was the better sort of the two, if a little over made-up, but the way she smoked her cigarette and held her drink had poser written all over it. Davo had noticed them earlier. He'd also noticed a few blokes front the dark haired one who either totally ignored them or looked at them like she was Alexis Carrington and they were freshly deposited piles of dogshit. Davo also thought he'd noticed the blonde looking over at Colin a few times but when he turned in her direction she quickly looked away. The other one however, at no stage looked over at Davo.

‘What do you reckon. We give 'em a lash?'

Davo shrugged his shoulders. ‘Alright. I'm easy.' But something told him that apart from the little blonde it was going to be a waste of time.

Colin suggested they move a little closer to the bar, which they did, and before long the little blonde walked over to buy another two drinks for her and her girlfriend. Colin edged over and took her gently by the elbow.

‘Excuse me,' he said politely. ‘Would you like a dance?'

The little blonde looked quizzingly at Colin; it was obvious there was no dance floor. ‘Where are you going to dance?'
she replied, with a bemused shrug of her shoulders. ‘There's no dance floor.'

Colin looked behind her and back at her a little surprised. ‘Well I'll be buggered,' he said. ‘There's not either. I never even noticed.' He gave her a stupid but infectious sort of grin. ‘Well would you like a game of marbles or something. I got a book of crossword puzzles here. How about we do a couple together.'

The little blonde couldn't help but smile at Colin's stupid but fairly amusing approach. At least it was a change from ‘haven't I seen you somewhere before' or ‘do you come here often' or ‘what star sign are you.' Besides, he was about the best dressed, best looking guy in the place, yet in a natural, manly, but not too full-on macho sort of way.

‘Well,' she said, giving Colin another quick once up and down. ‘I'm hopeless at crosswords and I'm not right into marbles. But I'm just over there with my girlfriend—why don't you come and have a drink with us.'

‘Alright,' replied Colin cheerfully. ‘Can I get your drinks for you?'

‘No, that's alright thanks. I'll see you over there.' She nodded to where her po-faced girlfriend was standing, not at all impressed that blondie had stopped to talk to someone. In fact she looked quite peeved if anything.

Colin watched as the blonde went to the bar then turned to Davo. ‘What do you reckon? We go over and have a drink with these two Wallys.'

Davo was almost certain it was going to be a waste of time for him but he had to back Colin up—Colin would have done the same for him. ‘Yeah righto,' he smiled, with a reluctant nod of his head.

Colin waited till the little blonde got back to her girlfriend them ambled over, with Davo following behind feeling like an unwanted relation.

Colin and the blonde hit it off immediately and she made all the introductions. It turned out she was Janice and her girlfriend was Nickla. They both came from Padstow originally but now flatted together at Rand wick. Janice worked in the layby department at David Jones in the city and Nickla worked
for some government department; they were both twenty-four.

Where Colin was going great guns with Janice, Davo felt like he was pissing into a hurricane with her girlfriend. She had all the charm and personality of an East Berlin border guard and about as much warmth as a tombstone at midnight. No matter how nice Davo would try to be or what he'd say Nickla would either treat him with absolute disdain or totally ignore him. After about half an hour he felt like telling her to get well and truly stuffed. But he persevered, if only for Colin's sake. He thought he'd give it one more try.

‘That's a really nice dress, Nickla. Where did you buy that?'

‘In town.'

‘Yeah. Looks expensive. Cost you much?'

‘Enough.'

‘I don't suppose that'd worry you though. You public servants make plenty of money.' Nickla looked at Davo blankly. ‘Not that you'd ever look like a fat cat, Nickla,' he smiled. ‘You look more like a little sex kitten in that outfit.' She gave Davo a bored smile then turned her back on him completely.

Oh bugger this thought Davo. I'm just wasting my breath. He watched Nickla slurping lustily on another bourbon and coke he'd been forced to buy her. And my bloody money. He caught Colin's eye and gave him a look of both annoyance and despair.

Colin, on the other hand, could do absolutely no wrong with the little blonde. He was cracking the jokes and she was laughing, looking into his dark brown eyes all the time like he was Michael Jackson and Sylvester Stallone rolled into one. He went over and bought another round of drinks: beers for Davo and himself and Jack Daniel's and cokes for the girls. Davo noticed Nickla might not have enjoyed their company much but she didn't mind them buying her plenty of cool ones.

‘So what are you doing after this?' said Colin, handing Janice her bourbon and coke.

‘Nothing—probably go home. Why?'

Colin shrugged his shoulders and did his best to manage a shy awkward smile. ‘Ohh, I was just going to say, if you're doing nothing, would you like to come back to Bob's and have a drink or a cup of coffee. Maybe listen to a bit of music and have a talk for a while.'

Janice gave Colin a very heavy once up and down and a bit of a sly smile. ‘Sounds alright to me but Nickla's got the car. How do I get home?'

‘I'll drive you. It's only just up the road anyway.'

‘Okay then.'

Eventually Janice had to go to the loo, and naturally enough being an Australian girl from the suburbs it was an absolute impossibility for her to go on her own so Nickla had to accompany her. Davo couldn't wait till they were out of sight so he could say his piece.

‘Ohh what a nice arsehole she is.'

‘Yeah. She's a prize turd alright,' agreed Colin.

‘How are are you going with the blonde?'

‘As a bean,' grinned Colin. ‘In fact we're going back to your place after this for a drink.'

‘Ohh that'll be nice. Good thing I stocked the fridge up with Dom Perignon before we left.'

‘You got a bottle of bourbon and some cream?' Davo nodded his head and smiled derisively. ‘That'll do. I'll shove a couple of quick Irish coffees down her throat and throw her up in the air in the spare room.'