Jazz Baby (15 page)

‘That might not be an option, you know. What did Mrs Mack say? She doesn't usually give any choices. It's her way or none.'

Dolly remembered Mrs Mack's directive on the first night she sang. There hadn't been a whole lot of choice then. ‘She told me to think about it and let her know in the morning.'

‘Mrs Mack doesn't take no for an answer. What she's telling you is play it her way or not at all.'

‘Not at all? You mean no singing unless I take customers?'

‘That's pretty much it. Be one of the girls and sing. Or leave. You can ask her in the morning. I think you'll find I'm right. She'll tell you she's not running a charity home. Work or leave.'

Dolly let Alice's words sink in. So Mrs Mack had given her an ultimatum. Become one of the girls or leave. She stood up and lifted Alice's pearls over her head and handed them back, trying not to remember the way Jack had clasped them in his hand and pulled her close. ‘Thanks ever so much. I don't think I'll need these again. I can't say yes to Mrs Mack.'

‘You can't just quit! What are you going to do? Where are you going to live? You'll have to find another job. You don't want to end up in one of those dodgy joints in Surry Hills.'

Dolly slipped the velvet shift over her head and reached for her nightgown. A small piece of white cardboard fell to the ground.

‘You've dropped something,' Alice said, stooping to pick up the rectangular card. ‘Oh. Lawrence Bizzet, Jazz Musician. That sounds flash. Is this Lawrence downstairs, the piano man?'

Dolly nodded, holding out her hand to Alice. ‘Yes, it is. He gave it to me last night. He said if ever I needed a job I should contact him.'

‘Aren't you the lucky one? Two job offers. Take back all I said.'

Dolly twisted the small card over and over in her fingers, staring at the black and white keyboard running along the edge. Alice was right. She had two options. Lawrence's offer might not be as salubrious as singing at Number Fifty-Four; however, it
was
a job, which meant she could continue singing and make some money without having to earn her living on her back. Taking Lawrence up on his offer would be better than skulking back to Wollombi with her tail between her legs.

Sinking to her knees she rummaged under the bed and pulled out her battered suitcase, then opened the third drawer of the wooden chest of drawers and chucked her clothes into the case.

‘What are you doing, Dolly?' Alice stared aghast. ‘At least sleep on it. Mrs Mack said to tell her tomorrow morning. You can't go rushing off now. Where would you go?'

Alice's words sank slowly into her consciousness as she continued to fill the suitcase with her few belongings. She smoothed out the top layer and ran her hand around the edge of the case until she found the pocket at the back. Her fingers locked onto the rough cotton of the old flag and she drew it out. She spread it on the bed and flattened the creases.

‘What's that?' Alice asked.

‘A relic from the past.' Just like Ted and Jack. She screwed the flag up into a small ball. ‘And too much of a reminder,' she said as she flung it across the room, snatching back a sob. She'd cherished that flag — a symbol of all her brother, and Jack, had meant to her. Brave, upright, trustworthy heroes who'd marched off to save the world. She kicked the suitcase closed. Not anymore. A lump formed in her throat. She ought to have known better. Look what war had done to her father. War changed a person, turned them in on themselves. Jack and Ted, the pair of them, wouldn't lie straight in their coffins and they'd let Pa die a miserable broken man, wasting away for want of the sight of his only son.

Hot tears burnt down her cheeks. She hadn't been able to make anything easier for Pa; nothing she could do or say could replace his disappointment and the torment of waiting for a son who didn't care enough to come home. Pain constricted her chest. Maybe it was time to accept the inevitable. She'd done her best for her father and failed. Why think Ted and Jack would be any different?

Jack found the stroll back to his apartment with Cynthia comforting. In a strange way Ted's reappearance seemed to have grounded them all, making him feel more at ease than he'd been for a long time.

‘Do you think Ted will come back here tonight, Jack?' Cynthia asked, tucking her feet up before she settled back into the silk sofa.

‘He hasn't got anywhere else to go. So I'd say that's a yes. And dressed the way he is he won't be sleeping in any back alleys. He's too smart. He knows he'd get rolled.'

‘Ted
is
smart, isn't he? Smart and good-looking. Quite dishy in fact. The tortured hero.'

Jack quirked a smile. ‘He's no good to you, Cyn. He hasn't got two brass razoos to rub together.'

‘That's a shame. I wouldn't mind combining a bit of business and pleasure.'

‘Nothing to stop you doing that, just don't bank on any handouts. And Ted might not like sharing.'

‘Not even with you, Jack?'

‘Not even me.'

‘That's no good then, besides I'd have to put Dolly straight.'

Warning sirens screeched through Jack's head at the words, shattering the sense of peace and calm he'd enjoyed since they'd left Dolly and Ted together. ‘Put Dolly straight? What do you mean?'

‘I might have overstepped the mark a bit.' A flush tinged Cynthia's already rouged cheeks.

Jack clenched his teeth against the wash of impending doom and leant closer. ‘Spill it, Cynthia. Now.'

‘I…um…I spoke to Dolly the other night.'

‘Yes.' An icy calm settled in Jack's veins as he waited to hear what Cynthia had to say.

‘I told her to keep her hands off you. I said we were…'

‘We were what?'

‘We were…you were my boyfriend and she couldn't have you.'

Jack fingered the throbbing pulse in his forehead. ‘And when exactly did this happen?'

‘The first night she sang.'

Just after he'd lost control and kissed her. The all-too-familiar scorch of heat raced through Jack as he relived the touch of Dolly's pliant body and her willing lips. ‘Brilliant timing, Cynthia.' No wonder Dolly had gone back downstairs to sing. Thumbing her nose at Cynthia. He had to hand it to her, she was a determined little thing. Most girls would find Cynthia a frightening opponent — not Dolly. She'd come out fighting, said she wanted to be his girl. ‘I don't think you better say anything else to Dolly, or to Ted for that matter, until I've had a chance to sort this mess out.'

Jack blew out a long breath. Dolly deserved more than to be saddled with the lush he'd become, a man who took his pleasure where and when the mood took him, left his best friend for dead. There was one thing he could do for her though. He could make her dreams of becoming a singer come true. If Dolly had got over the initial shock of seeing Ted they'd be catching up, filling in the blanks, and Ted would see Number Fifty-Four as a safe haven and perhaps he'd encourage Dolly to stay.

Maybe there'd be a chance he could set the record straight and make up for the pain he'd caused Dolly and her family. He rubbed his hands together. ‘I think I can sort this out, Cynthia. Leave it to me.'

Receiving no response he stepped across the room and peered down at Cynthia. Her eyes were closed and her mouth slightly open, fast asleep. Slipping his arm under her knees he picked her up, carried her into the spare room and settled her gently on the bed, smiling at the thought of the pleasant surprise for Ted when he got home.

The next morning dawned bright and shiny, in keeping with Jack's optimistic mood. He whistled as he brewed a pot of tea in the tiny kitchen and set out the cups. He hadn't heard Ted come in last night. The fact that the door to the spare room had been pulled shut boded well. He had no intention of disturbing Cynthia and Ted. Let them find their own tea when they were ready. As soon as he dressed he'd go around to Millie's and see Dolly. The memory of her wide smile and sparkling eyes put a spring in his step. Spending the rest of the day with her would be a delight. He'd also have a word with Millie and tell her he wanted Dolly to have one of the upstairs rooms. She deserved somewhere better than the pokey room down the back she shared with Alice and Rosa. If Millie tried to pull rank and tell him she ran the joint he'd put her straight. It was about time.

Looking down onto the street Jack sipped his tea, musing on Ted and how best to broach the subject of his feelings for Dolly. Time he did things properly. He'd ask Ted's permission to court Dolly. He put the cup back in the saucer and smiled at his reflection in the window — such an old-fashioned word.
Courting
. He wanted to court Dolly, take her out, spoil her, spend money on her and let her enjoy the life he now took for granted. And then there was Ted — how to help him without him thinking he was receiving a handout? No doubt Dolly and Ted were brother and sister, as alike as two halves of a coin — proud, determined and independent.

Jack peered down into the street and caught sight of a Model T screeching to a halt, narrowly missing an overloaded dray pulled by two Clydesdales. The driver leapt out and rushed to the front of his car. A crowd gathered in a circle blocking the tramlines. Jack craned his neck trying to see past the tangle of overhead cables criss-crossing the road and work out what the fuss was all about. In the centre of the nosey group of onlookers a man stood gesticulating wildly, his arms flashing like windmills as he abused the Model T driver. The crowd parted and the black-clad man strode across the road dismissing the assistance of a well-meaning passerby. Jack turned from the window and took two paces back to the kitchen then stopped in his tracks. He rushed back to the window. Pressing his nose to the glass he stared down into the street below his apartment. His heart sank.

Ted!

He dumped his cup down on the table and tightened the belt on his silk smoking jacket then flung through the front door into the lift. Ted was meant to be asleep, curled up with Cynthia in the spare room. What was he doing lurching around in the street at seven o'clock in the morning?

The lift took an eternity to reach the ground floor and by the time Jack reefed back the ornate metal gate Ted had pushed the heavy glass doors open with his shoulder.

‘Where the hell have you been?' Jack shouted at him, panic tingeing his voice with aggression. ‘What are you doing?'

‘Coming back to give you your clothes and find Dolly.'

‘What do you mean
find Dolly
? I left her with you, having the great reunion.'

‘Yeah. Well, we did, until she lost it because neither of us had told her I wasn't dead. She accused me of sending Pa to an early grave.' Ted sniffed and wiped the back of his hand across his nose. ‘I told you it would be a mistake,' he said in a hoarse voice.

‘Get in the lift. I need to go upstairs, get dressed and get around to Millie's.'

‘Not much point, Dolly's not there. I checked before I came back here.'

The sinking sensation in the pit of Jack's gut sparked a flash of fear. Every hair on his arms stood to attention as he waited for the lift to reach the fourth floor. He stared at Ted's face, the scar red and angry against the pallor of his skin and his eyes staring vacantly. ‘Where is she?'

Ted shook his head and shrugged. ‘I've got absolutely no idea and before you ask, neither has Millie.'

Jack forced the metal gate open, spun on his heel and barged out of the lift not caring if Ted followed. He dragged on some clothes and shoes, grabbed his coat and hat and threw himself back into the lift.

Racing through the early morning activity he crossed William Street and took the rabbit warren of back streets to Number Fifty-Four. His lungs burnt as he vaulted the metal gate, charged up the steps, flung open the red front door and barrelled into the hallway. ‘Millie! Where the hell are you?'

When Millie appeared before he had time to stagger into her office Jack's stomach sank. ‘Where's Dolly?' His breath came in ragged gasps as he slouched against the wall sending one of the gold-framed pictures crashing to the floor.

‘I don't know, Jack.' I spoke to her last night after she'd seen Ted and she was pretty upset. I sent her upstairs to talk to Alice. According to her, Dolly packed her suitcase and then got into bed. This morning she, and the suitcase, had gone.'

Jack bent double, sucking in great gasps of air, his throat constricted by a toxic mix of dread and exertion. ‘Where's Alice?'

Millie flicked her thumb over her shoulder and Jack took off into the inner sanctum, ignoring her mumbled protestations. He hammered on each door as he raced through the maze of rooms. ‘Alice?' he bellowed.

Finally the door below the stairs swung open.

‘Alice!'

‘I'm sorry, I fell asleep.' She blew her nose loudly on a soiled handkerchief. ‘We said we'd talk about it more in the morning. When I woke she'd gone.'

‘Gone where?'

‘I don't know. She didn't want to take Mrs Mack up on her offer of a job.'

‘Job offer — what job offer?'

Millie cleared her throat and Jack spun around to face her. ‘Okay, let's have it, Millie. What did you do?' An image of Dolly lying spread on one of the sumptuous beds upstairs reignited his anger. If one of those bald-headed coots with their greasy hands and fat guts had laid a hand on her…

‘Let's go and sit down and discuss this rationally.' Millie's hand patted his arm.

He shrugged it off. ‘Millie, so help me, if you sent her off with one of the patrons I'm going to tear you limb from fucking limb and feed you to the bloody sharks in the harbour.'

Unfazed by his threats Millie latched her fingers around his sleeve and pulled him down the corridor. ‘Come and sit down. You too, Alice.' She pushed the door open and led the way into the overheated kitchen. ‘Annie, can we have some tea, please.' She dropped her grasp on his arm and settled into her usual spot at the head of the scrubbed table.