Falling Into Queensland

by Jacqueline George

  “I could move them straight across, if you like. That way they won"t stay on my machine at all.”

  “That"d be safer. I don"t want to get you into trouble.”

  As the camera gave up its treasure, Marilyn looked around the office. “You know, I can"t imagine ever working like this. I"d go nuts by lunch time.”

  “I suppose you get used to it, and it can be very interesting on some days. What do you do in Australia?”

  “Anything I can. I do leatherwork and sew canvas when I get the chance, but that"s not a full-time job even counting work

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  from Cooktown. I get a bit of work driving trucks or operating machinery for the Shire or Main Roads. That pays well enough, especially if you"re working out in the bush. I do some trips on the fishing boats too, when they"re short handed. I could do that fulltime, but the money"s not brilliant and the guys you have to ship with... Bunch of really dumb dope-heads. Best job is taking tourists around, but it"s hard to get enough of them. Perhaps I"ll get a computer of my own and start advertising. Shirl will give me a hand. She"s Rupert"s girlfriend, and she"s no dummy. She can be the brains, and I"ll be the brawn.”

  Stephanie smiled at her. “No, you"re really clever. No one else could get around Mr Bradley-Smythe as you did.”

  “Hmm – we"ll see how long that lasts. I"m going to get an email address as soon as I get home, and perhaps you could give me the nod if anything"s going wrong? What"s your address, so I can write?

  “Now look, don"t tell Jeremy about the pics. There"s no point upsetting him. You can tell him I dropped by to check if everything was OK. He"ll understand that.”

  She took the camera and the memory stick. “Thanks for

  that. I"d better disappear now, and come back at eleven. See you

  then.”

  Stephanie gave her a conspiratorial smile when she returned. “I think you hurt him. He"s in a bad mood, and walking very strangely.”

  “Ah – yes. I can imagine he would be. Never mind, he deserved it. Do I just go in?”

  “One minute, I"ll call.” She picked up the phone. “Miss Marilyn"s here. Yes, she"s just coming.”

  Mr Bradley-Smythe remained seated. There were two folders in front of him. He pushed the one marked „photocopies" over to her. His face was expressionless.

  Marilyn forced herself to read the papers carefully. Each man had a letter confirming that a nominee account had been opened in his name, and a statement showing that one hundred

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  thousand Australian dollars had been deposited and exchanged into sterling. She opened her own folder and slowly cross checked each account holder"s name and address. They all matched.

  “Very good, Jeremy. Thank you very much, it"s been a business doing pleasure with you. Now if I could just have the originals...”

  He put one hand flat on the folder and held the other out palm up.

  “Don"t be soft, Jeremy. You don"t think I"m stupid enough to hand over the key here. I don"t have it anyway. It"s waiting for me outside.”

  “Damn you, Marilyn. I"m in fucking agony, and I can"t even piss straight. Go and get it!”

  “Why don"t you send Stephanie down with that folder, and I"ll swap it for the key when we"re on your front step?”

  Stephanie came with her. As they rode the lift down, she said,” He doesn"t look at all comfortable.”

  “He says he"s in agony. Serve him right.”

  “I"d love to know what you did to him.”

  Marilyn laughed. “Come and visit me, and I"ll tell you all about it. I"ll even show you those photographs, if you"re a good girl.”

  Rupert was waiting just around the corner. Stephanie passed over the folder and after Marilyn had checked it, she gave Rupert a nod. “Hand it over, Rupert. I guess I won"t see you again, Stephanie. Not on this trip, anyway. I"m on the night flight out to Brisbane.” She drew her close for a kiss on the cheek. “Come and see me, you hear?”

  She walked quickly away with Rupert behind her. Once they had reached a busy street, she relaxed again. “Right, Rupert, we"re nearly done. I need two notarised copies of this lot. One for you, one for the mail, and the originals I"ll carry with me.” She handed over the camera. “Here, you"d better keep this in a safe place. That"s our insurance policy. Don"t look at the photos on it, if you know what"s good for you. And don"t tell Jeremy you"ve got it either, or you might find yourself looking for a new job. I don"t have any

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  copies mind, but I think that"s not a problem. Jeremy just knows there are some embarrassing photos out there that could come to haunt him if he tries to screw around. That"s all he needs to know.

  “Now, once we"ve got the photocopies, what are you going to show me? I don"t want to go home from London without doing some tourist stuff.”

  She did not know why she had not told him about the memory stick. She just could not bring herself to trust him. He might be Shirley"s boyfriend, but he was still living under Mr BradleySmythe"s thumb.

  Climbing out of the plane at Port Bruce had never felt so good. After the cold frenzy of London and the long, draining flight, she was home again. Ian was waiting for her, full of questions about her trip, but Marilyn"s brain was still somewhere over the Indian Ocean and he did not get much out of her. Shower, beer, bed. Those were her priorities. She fell asleep wondering about something Ian had said. Tom Bombadil had left a note saying he had borrowed her

  ute.

  Next morning, the problem of her ute was even stranger. She did not know Tom that well, and he had just turned up and taken her ute? It would not have been difficult. The key stayed in the ignition anyway, so he must have just turned up and taken it. But taken it where?

  She talked Ian out his ute for the day and set off for the Makepeace, her folder beside her. That should please Japan, and please him enough for Shirley to accompany her back again.

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  Chapter 18

  Riding in Japan"s station wagon as he drove away from Marilyn"s house made Shirley sick. Her wrist lay against her waist, still bound to her seat belt with the cable tie. She was sitting in a nightmare, unable to think, and she was frightened.

  Japan drove confidently and fast, drawing a plume of dust behind them as they drummed along the Cooktown road. Shirley tried to remember her trip with Marilyn, to fix where they were. It would make no difference. She could not leave the truck, and Japan showed no sign of stopping.

  Long after she expected it, they dropped down to cross the dry river bed Marilyn had shown her. Japan hardly slowed down. It would not be long now before they turned off the main road and made for the hills.

  Her despair deepened as they headed out into the dry country, passing the forlorn entrances to the cattle stations she had seen before, on to climb up the escarpment. There was no time for admiring the view today. Japan concentrated only on the track ahead and, with her arm immobilised, she had to brace herself with her feet to stay in her seat.

  At last she saw the gantry of Japan"s home over the spoil mounds, and they pulled into the car park. Japan came around to open her door. The first thing he did was take her thongs, before releasing her seat belt and cutting her free. The surface of the car park hurt her feet as she walked carefully towards the dredge. Inside, the floor was kinder but the steps up to Japan"s home were metal grating and agony to climb.

  Midge was waiting with coffee for both of them, and smiling happily. Apart from her heels, tattoos and nipple rings, she was naked again.

  “None of that,” ordered Japan. “Just get her clothes off her and I"m taking her upstairs.” He went into the next room, and Shirley could hear him moving around.

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  “Better do what he says, Shirl,” Midge said in a low voice. “It"s better... You staying long? He said some-one woul
d be coming, but he didn"t say who.”

  “I don"t know. Days at least.”

  “Oh, that"s great! I can show you around. But hurry up, he doesn"t like to wait.”

  Shirley was still in bra and panties when Japan returned. He grabbed her by the shoulder and spun her around. She winced as he pulled the back of her bra until it suddenly felt loose. He did the same with her panties and she caught them between her knees. He had cut her out of her underclothes and was folding up his knife. “Do what you"re told next time. Now, upstairs.”

  He steered her out onto the deck and they climbed the ladder up to the greasing platform Midge had shown her on her last visit. The sun was dipping towards the horizon, and the landscape looked softer and redder. Japan kicked one of the railings and, satisfied it was sound, clipped one half of a pair of handcuffs onto it. He reached for her, and she offered her hand. He clipped the hand cuff around her wrist. “Right. You stop here, and tomorrow we"ll talk about what we"re going to do with you.”

  Once he had gone, the depressing reality of her situation descended onto her shoulders. She was alone in a vast landscape. On one side, just across the dirt road, climbed the bare, rocky hills of the valley wall. On the other, the chewed up river bed stretched for miles in all directions. She could see grey hills on the far side of the river, and beyond them, more bare hills crowded to the horizon. She knew that Japan and his men were the only humans within several days walking, if walking was even possible in this parched and thirsty land.

  She had no food or water. She could either stand at her

  railing, or park her naked bottom on the rusty steel floor. The sun was still hot on her bare white places, but she feared the night more than sun burn. Perhaps Midge would bring her some food, and a blanket to help her survive.

  She thought of her friends, of Rupert and Marilyn. They were going to London to rescue her. How long would that take?

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  Days, at least. Marilyn would sort something out, and come back for her, but London was far away and it might take even longer to sort things out. How many days could it take?

  She thought of her little house on the river, and suddenly her eyes were wet. Bloody Japan! That was the second time he had taken her house away, as if it was more his than hers. It was so

  unfair.

  She shook herself out of self-pity, and started to brush the loose rust from a patch of floor. It was not easy and the rust stained her hands. She sat down with her back to the railing and tried to get her shackled hand into a comfortable position. She was tied too tightly, and she would ask Midge to somehow give her more chain. If Midge came at all.

  The sun reached the horizon and settled quickly in a rosy tropical sunset. The heat of the day drained away with the light, and her skin felt grateful. Below her somewhere, a television was playing and she could hear Midge and Japan moving around.

  The darkness deepened, and the great bowl of the Australian night sky hung above her, its infinite stars bright in the nothingness of space. As she looked nearby, she could see blooms of light in amongst the torn up wasteland the dredge had made. There was light coming from the dredge too, illuminating the car park and entrance. In the distance, a motorbike throbbed into life and slowly picked its way towards her. It came nearer and nearer until it pulled up by the dredge. A man and woman got off and disappeared out of sight. The sound of the television was joined by music and faint conversation. She guessed the Gold Digger"s Delight was open for business.

  She spent her evening changing position to rest her arm. There was no comfortable way to sit. With her back to the railing, or facing it with her legs dangling over the platform edge, both gave her no relief. The steel deck was unyielding and increasingly cold. Lying on her back drained the heat from her, and curling up on her side gave her no way to rest her head.

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  Below her, more motorbikes had arrived and the noise from the bar was loud and cheerful. She could smell cooking, but she was too uncomfortable to feel real hunger yet.

  As she dozed and wriggled on her private cliff top, time crept past. Once she came awake and the noise from the bar had stopped. The light in the car park had gone. She supposed that Japan, and Midge, and all the Makepeace River residents were tucking themselves into their beds. The cold had soaked into her now, and she sat curled up with her shoulder under the railing and her cheek against it. A gibbous moon shouldered its way over the hills, but brought her no relief. There would be many hours before the sun returned.

  She was stiff and frozen when at last she was sure the sky was lightening. The eastern hills were emphasised by a thin grey backdrop that slowly suffused the sky until a focus of white light marked the spot where the sun would rise. She waited eagerly for its life and heat.

  Long after she had expected it, the sun climbed from behind the hills and its warmth struck across the valley into her skin. She started to shiver as the heat bathed her and brought her back to the living world. She welcomed the sun, but prayed she would be rescued before she suffered under its power.

  She could hear Japan and Midge below. They were having breakfast, and the smell of coffee crept up to her. At last there were footsteps, but they were going away. Down the steps and out. Japan appeared in the car park and, without looking up, climbed into his station wagon. He disappeared in the direction of the main road.

  Suddenly, there was a noise on the ladder, and Midge"s head appeared over the platform edge.

  “Hey, Shirl. You OK?”

  Shirley looked down at herself. She was filthy with rust. She felt miserable, and she needed the bathroom.

  “Look, I can unlock you. Japan says it"s OK for you to come down, but only if you don"t try anything stupid. Although what you could do out here I can"t imagine.”

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  Shirley nodded. She wanted to get off her platform, at whatever cost. She followed Midge down the ladder and into her kitchen.

  “Want a shower first? Get washed up, and we"ll take breakfast outside. That"ll be nice, won"t it?”

  Shirley luxuriated in the shower, the hot water bringing her back to life. She did not get out until Midge called her to eat.

  Midge carried her bacon and fried eggs out to the table under the awning, and sat watching her eat.

  “You must have been cold up there.”

  As soon as her mouth was empty, Shirley agreed. “It was bloody freezing, and it hurt. Is he going to send me up there again tonight?”

  “I don"t know, but I guess not. He doesn"t want to hurt you. I think he just wanted to show you what could happen, if you don"t cooperate.”

  “Cooperate with what? There"s nothing I can do for his pensions.”

  “Pensions? What pensions? No – don"t tell me. If he wants me to know anything, he"ll tell me himself. It"s safer that way.

  “I think he wants you to help around here. You know, in the bar and so on. Would you mind? There"s nothing else to do, and it"ll be more fun with some-one to help me.”

  “As long as it"s just in the bar. Can I have my clothes back?”

  Midge shook her head. “He doesn"t want that. He said no already. You won"t be upset, will you? It doesn"t mean anything to him. I mean, you"re very pretty and everything, but I don"t think he

  cares. When he wants sex, any hole will do and that"s what I"m here

  for. I know what he likes best.”

  Shirley said nothing to upset her. Midge"s business was her own, she supposed, and if she did not like what she was doing, she did not have to come back every time. “I suppose I can do without clothes. As long as I"m warm. I don"t want another night like last night.”

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  “Shirley, you won"t be cross, will you? He says you"ve got to get rid of your hair. I mean, on your pussy. He doesn"t like it.” Midge seemed to cringe, expecting her to lash out.

  �
�It"s none of his bloody business how I do my hair! I"m not one of his – I mean – I don"t work for him.” She did not want to be

  cruel to Midge, and stopped herself just in time.

  “I know. You"re right, but what can I do? I can lend you some removing cream, and it won"t take long. Only, you have to do it before he comes back tonight. Or, you know...”

  She had no choice. If cooperating would buy her a bed for the night, she would probably shave the hair on her head too. “I suppose I have to. What else has he got for me?”

  “Oh, nothing. That"s all he said. I told him I wanted to give the bar a good clean, and he said you could help me.”

  “As if I could choose,” she said bitterly. “Never mind, if you"re doing it, I don"t mind helping. It"ll pay you for the breakfast.”

  Midge grinned happily. “If we hurry, we can get it done by lunchtime. Then we"ll have a shower and you can do your hair, and then there"s nothing much to do for the rest of the afternoon. We can be lazy together.”

  Midge shook Shirley awake. She was sitting at the table with her feet up on another chair. She had fallen asleep trying to read an Australian woman"s magazine, even more mindless than the ones at home. They had moved the furniture out of the bar, and cleaned and scrubbed all morning. While Midge made lunch, Shirley spent an uncomfortable half hour with the hair removing cream. Now her pussy looked pink, and obscenely naked. She might have liked the picture, if she had not been forced to it by Japan. She had asked Midge if she could leave a strip on her mound, but she said Japan called that „Hitler"s Moustache" and would not hear of it.

  Now Midge wanted to get her moving. “We"ve got to make dinner. I"ve started on it, but he could come back any time and you don"t want to be sitting around when he does. Come and peel some potatoes.”