Before the Storm

by Di Morrissey

  On the outskirts of the town she passed by some camps with tents, sheds and machinery scattered in gullies. She pulled up by the side of the road and stared at the brown creek below and the view out to the plains and distant hills. It was a palette of red dust and ochre against the searing blue of the sky.

  Driving down the dusty main street she decided that the town was like a rough dot intersecting the unsealed roads that headed north and south. She cruised along, noticing a couple of pubs, some self-proclaimed clubs of dubious heritage, a few eateries, an aged supermarket, and some stores with windows wired and barred against fights and breakages, she assumed. One heavily barricaded shopfront announced, All mining needs. We buy and sell gemstones/gold/minerals. A large petrol station with a tin-roofed motel attached featured vast swathes of peeling paint.

  What looked to be a one-man police station had a holding room out the back. A boarding house was on the corner of a lane furthest from the heart of town. Behind it was what looked to be a line of dunnies, till, driving slowly past, she saw that each door had a room attached. A light above illuminated a number on each, and at the end a smaller building was marked Office.

  Meredith pulled into the petrol station and filled the tank.

  ‘Where you off to, lady? Long haul to the next town.’ The attendant slammed the cash register shut and handed her the change.

  ‘Too far to anywhere, I’d say. Which is better to stay at, the motel or the boarding house? Or the pub?’ she asked.

  ‘None of ’em would prob’ly suit you, love. But if you don’t know the road, wouldn’t advise driving through the night.’ He rubbed his chin, eyeing her up and down. ‘Pub’ll be noisy till late, but you should be okay there. Lock ya door. Lot of drunks about and they’ll crash anywhere. Big day in town t’day. Few blokes’ll be pretty flush, I’d say.’

  ‘Pay day?’ asked Meredith.

  ‘Yep. Every couple of months the assayer and buyers come to town. A bloke’s digging for months and months and maybe finally got a find; coupla opals, a nugget or two, who knows. Some of that new stuff they’re after . . . so they get a sale. It’ll be gone by midnight. And tomorrow they’ll wake up with a sore head and drag their bums back to a hole in the ground and start over.’

  ‘Sounds like a lot of effort to drink away in one night,’ said Meredith dryly.

  ‘Ah, they get their rocks off too, so to speak. ’Scuse the language. Not many women up here. ’Specially since Old Mary kicked the bucket.’

  ‘Oh? Who was Old Mary?’

  ‘Queen of Backhill and Beyond, she used to call herself. Ran the Ladies’ Club. Though “ladies” might be pushing it a bit. It’s more like a henhouse at the minute; they need another boss madam in there to straighten them out. Strewth, you should hear the brawling and arguing going on. A lot of the blokes reckon they take their life in their hands the way them girls are fighting for business.’

  Meredith was under no illusions as to what the man was talking about. ‘That doesn’t sound great. Are the women safe, looked after?’

  ‘When Mary ran it, I’d say so. She was a good sort; cared for those girls like they were her own, from what I heard. Shrewd old duck, though. Apparently she left a packet of money to some unknown relative down south. They probably think Mary had a goldmine!’ he chortled.

  ‘I’ll try the pub. Thanks a lot.’

  ‘Safe drive home, girly,’ he called after her.

  Meredith almost smiled, thinking she was glad she still qualified as a ‘girly’.

  She stayed a couple of weeks, living off her savings from the bakery, and soon enough became accepted at the pub, although the locals made it clear to Meredith that they couldn’t work out why she was there. A rumour started that she was an amateur jeweller or buyer, though with limited knowledge of anything to do with gemmology, prospecting, mining or fossicking; this just made Meredith laugh. She started to wonder herself what she was doing there. Until she met Dolly.

  Dolly seemed ancient, though she was only in her fifties. But years of digging, panning, scratching and noodling in the scorching summers and freezing winters had leathered her skin to the texture of a sun-baked tortoise.

  She had bright beady eyes that missed nothing. Her husband, Ralphie, a slow, quiet fellow, ‘did the paperwork’ according to Dolly, and occasionally hovered in the bar. Dolly owned the pub. And it was rumoured that she owned half the town as well. She had done well and she wore her wealth.

  When Meredith first met her, she was transfixed by the sparkling jewellery adorning Dolly’s scrawny arms and fingers. Three or more rings glittered on every one of her fingers, and bracelets jangled. One sharp-eyed observer said to Meredith that Dolly’s jewellery regularly changed. She was, as the local said, ‘a walking bank’.

  Dolly soon took Meredith under her wing, sniffing out that here was a woman with brains who didn’t know where to go next in her life.

  Meredith, on the other hand, considered herself a woman in control of her emotions, her life, and her future, whatever that might be. In the course of a quiet chat over two glasses of chalky wine that Meredith choked down, Dolly had her number – Meredith’s life story, her strengths and weaknesses, and a plan for what would be Meredith’s next move in life.

  Sitting together in the pub one day, Dolly leaned in close to her and said, ‘Listen, Meredith love, you’re smarter than you think. Sounds like you made a good business from a nothing bakery. But you can do better. I can tell you got no firm plans. No life; no man hanging on to you, no kids, any of that. First off, you spend a bit of time with my Ralphie – he’s the smartest numbers man in the country.’

  ‘I don’t gamble, Dolly.’

  ‘Haha. Good one. Nah, he’s the number cruncher, smartest accountant and mover around of money and investments you’ll ever meet, as I said. Learned it in the clink from the best white-collar fall guys for the rich bastards, who turned them in to save themselves. Now, listen. I need a strong woman who’s clever, firm, thinks on her feet and is classy to boot. That’s you, right?’

  ‘To do what, exactly, Dolly?’

  ‘Upgrade the Ladies’ Club. I’ll splash a bit of money to fix it up nicer, and you can do the fixing. Then we get the word out down in Sydney, Brisbane, Melbourne for some city girls. They’re keen to get out of the city at the moment, the trade is being hit hard down there. We need a bit of class up here.’

  Meredith raised an eyebrow. ‘You mean the brothel.’

  ‘Well, if you want to call a spade a fork . . . yeah.’ She chortled then got serious again. ‘Listen, these fellows here and out of town have got money. Though I accept some hard stuff as payment too if it checks out – opals, gold and such. I know my stones. If the joint gets upgraded, so do the prices. They’ll come from bloody everywhere. But I need someone there to run things, keep the customers in line and look after the girls. I took the place over after Old Mary left and I own it outright now, but I have too much on me plate. I need a manager.’

  ‘But it’s against the law, isn’t it?’ Meredith said, shaking her head.

  ‘Ah, you don’t have to worry about the local sergeant. You run a good, clean, classy joint with no hassles and the local coppers get a cut: they’ll be thrilled. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, and neither do the girls; the girls like it when they have an organised straight-shooting madam to run things smooth and friendly like.’

  ‘That’s what you’re offering me? A job as a madam?’ Meredith didn’t know whether to laugh or weep.

  ‘Not a madam, the madam! Give it a go. Get it up and running and if you don’t like it, drive away. With pay. I know a smart, strong woman when I see one. You’re young, and you’re a bit lost. Stay here a couple of years. You might never leave. Or else save your money, Ralphie can tell you where to invest it if you want that, and then when you’re ready, pack your bags and piss off. How’s that sound?’ Dolly leaned back
and folded her arms, looking as if it was all settled.

  Meredith slowly sipped her wine through pursed lips, trying not to gag. Delicately she pulled out her hanky and dabbed her mouth. She thought about the women who’d worked the streets near her home in Sydney when she was growing up. They’d talked to her and Meredith had quickly realised there was nothing glamorous about their lives. The women were beaten physically and their spirits were often just as brutally broken. If she could take care of the women working at Dolly’s place, she might be able to do some real good, she decided, and earn a wage.

  ‘The first thing to do is to ask Ralph to order some good wine. This stuff is bilge water,’ Meredith said, not daring yet to tell Dolly that she had her own agenda.

  Dolly slapped her leg and guffawed. ‘Champagne. That’s what we’ll get. Good customers get a champagne or three to get them in the mood to spend up big. Good thinking.’

  *

  ‘So you stayed?’

  ‘I did, after I’d finally made it clear to Dolly that the health and safety of the women would always come first.’

  ‘Was the work hard? I can’t imagine it.’

  ‘Well, I was the manager, of course. It was up to the girls to do everything else. But I made sure they were well looked after. We spent time together and I taught them what I’d learned about running a business. I gave some of them advice about managing their money and helped those who were interested to go back to school by correspondence. I even taught a few of the girls how to read and write.’

  ‘What were the women like?’ Ellie asked.

  ‘Mostly they were just regular girls who wanted to earn a good living, though there was always a few more desperate waifs and strays who had nowhere else to go. I kept a special eye out for those girls and did the best I could for them. I’d even try to find another job for them in town if I thought our place was too demanding for them. I made a deal with all the women: that I’d look after them if they were honest with me. We were very careful about keeping them safe and healthy. The local doctor, a really intelligent, lovely woman, helped me teach them about health, hygiene and contraception. We also had “specialists” come to teach them, if they were interested, about exotica in the bedroom, even belly dancing. I could’ve franchised the Ladies’ Club everywhere. The girls got the same wage as I did, which I discovered was very different from the way other places operated. We became a kind of family for a while.’

  ‘So it was a success?’ Ellie asked.

  ‘It was. Everyone, including all the women, made a lot of money. Ralph was a genius. Dolly was generous. I turned that row of dunnies into a smart private club, where privacy was the key. No one ever saw who came or went with whom. The office became the club room and bar where the punters and the girls mingled like it was the ritziest cocktail party you ever saw.’

  She took a sip of coffee and leaned back in her chair.

  ‘But for me the real success was helping the women learn new skills, nothing to do with their work in the brothel, that is. Together we helped each other and some of the women really blossomed and gained confidence. I was very proud when a few of the girls got together and started their own beauty salon in another town. All above board and, as far as I know, it was a great little business.’

  Meredith smiled gently.

  ‘I kept my head down for five years and then one day I just knew I wanted my life back. Also, no matter how I

  looked at it and what good I did for the girls, it wasn’t legal. Dolly was upset but she understood. Gave me a beautiful opalised fossil pendant, millions of years old.

  ‘I went to Adelaide, cashed in my investment and then bought a house in Melbourne. I met Jim there. When he proposed to me, I had to try to find Reg to get a divorce, but sadly for him, he’d died in an accident. Eventually Jim and I moved to Storm Harbour.’ Meredith lifted her arms. ‘Happy ending. Here I am. Except I miss my Jim every single day.’

  ‘What did Jim know about your past?’ asked Ellie, utterly absorbed in Meredith’s story.

  ‘Nothing. Bless him. He was such a straight and proper guy. I don’t think he would have understood.’

  ‘What about your parents?’

  Meredith shrugged. ‘Collateral damage, I suppose. I found my mother in an aged care home after Jim died. She was very old and frail by then. She patted my hand and said she’d known I’d be okay. Do all right.’

  For a moment Meredith’s composure wobbled. She looked at Ellie. ‘I was probably about your age when I met Dolly. Sometimes in life you turn a corner and end up where you never thought you’d be. To be blunt, as Dolly once told me, “Shove your shit under the bed, hold your head up high, and walk out the door”. Whatever happened to you, Ellie, never be ashamed of your past.’

  Ellie stared at the confident and poised woman in front of her.

  ‘Thank you. I so admire you. But, Meredith, could someone else know all this? Someone from your past? The threats on the website . . . it would be better to keep them quiet.’

  ‘Ellie, I’ve never done anything that I’m ashamed about, but certainly if this became public knowledge it would not be a good look. No one here knows anything about my past, including your dear grandfather. But I don’t want to be bullied out of standing up for what I believe is right. I can say that I have never been dishonest in my life, and I took good care of those women. Their welfare was always my highest priority – that’s why I accepted the job. Many people would assume that no one would want to run a brothel, but they didn’t have the good fortune to work with the amazing women I did. Running that business was the first time I really understood the importance of a community.’

  ‘Thank you for telling me this, Meredith, for sharing your story.’

  ‘So, do you feel a little better? I’m here to listen to you, too.’

  Ellie gave a small smile and drew in a deep breath. ‘I’ve taken up a lot of your time. I do feel much better. At some time, I’d like to share with you too.’

  ‘Good. I’m glad. You know you can come to me any time.’

  ‘Thank you. The town is very lucky to have you as mayor. And I’m lucky to have you as a friend.’

  As Ellie stood up, Meredith also got to her feet and squeezed Ellie’s arm. ‘Dolly always said to me, “You can only give it your best shot, love. Aim straight”.’

  5

  The next morning Ellie drove a delighted Sam down to Main Beach, where the white sand and choppy surf glittered in a stiff easterly wind. There were a couple of surfers, crouching black figures riding the break, and a few people walking dogs along the shoreline. The surf club was closed and the picnic ground deserted and quiet, save for the whirring of a chainsaw – Ellie could see Ben from a distance, working away on what must be a new project.

  It was one of those days that reminded Ellie of cut glass. Everything seemed clear and sharp and bright, both in the outside world and within her. Perhaps, she thought, this was because she felt calmer. It was reassuring to know there was another woman out there who had come through tough times and kept a secret. And Ellie now knew that, if she needed to, she could share her own story with someone like Meredith. It was comforting.

  As Ellie drew closer to Ben, she paused for a moment or two, to marvel at his skill. From the great chunk of fallen bleached cypress tree he had hewn a sleepy-eyed mother seal lounging on a rock. The rough form of two wooden pups was just starting to emerge beside her. He had brought the static piece of wood back to life. Compared to the wild and angular Harry the Cray that Ben had created at the caravan park, this carving had a gentle softness about it.

  Ellie walked towards him.

  ‘Hey, Ben!’

  As he caught sight of her, he turned off the saw and lifted the visor shielding his face.

  ‘Hi, Ellie. And hello, mate,’ Ben said, laughing as Sam bounded up to him.

  ‘Sam, sit down!’ Ellie smiled. ‘This lo
oks stunning. You got another commission, obviously?’

  ‘Yep,’ said Ben. ‘It can happen like that: one good project in a local area generates more work, if people like it.’

  ‘I liked the cray, but these seals are even better. I love the tender look in the mother’s eyes. What’re you doing next? Do you have anything lined up?’

  ‘Nope. But there’s a job in Queensland that I could maybe do, out in the backblocks.’

  Ellie nodded. ‘That sounds promising. Is it an art job or on the land?’ she asked.

  ‘A bit of both. I like the land. Farming. I miss working at Craigmore. I used to help out in the woolshed,’ he said. ‘One year I spent time working with Ronan at the family cattle stud in Queensland. That’s where he met his wife; I took over while they were away on their honeymoon.’

  ‘You must be looking forward to your grandmother’s big party,’ Ellie said, wanting to steer the conversation away from Ronan.

  ‘Yes, I might finally get to spend some time with her! She’s very “tied up”.’ He made quote marks in the air with his fingers and rolled his eyes. ‘Thankfully I’ve got plenty to go on with here,’ he continued, gesturing towards the seals. ‘And I’ve been hanging out with Sally a bit, catching up.’

  ‘Well, at least you’re keeping busy,’ Ellie said, patting the seal, then looking sideways at Ben with a smile. ‘Sally’s a nice person to keep busy with.’

  It was a casual remark, but Ben flushed and busied himself with his tools. ‘Well, yes. She’s smart and warm and quirky, which I like.’

  ‘Are you two serious then?’

  ‘We didn’t know each other well at school. She’s so different from anyone else I’ve met, you know,’ he said, adding, ‘It’s nice to have someone on my side.’ A hard expression flashed across Ben’s face, and Ellie thought she knew what it meant. Ben had always been the kid on the outer. Well, she hoped Sally didn’t use him and move on. She couldn’t see ambitious Sally putting her career on hold to live in the backblocks of Queensland with a wood carver.