‘Shush! Mary, they ain’t dead,’ Jessica scolds her friend, though she does this more to contain her own panic than to stop Mary wailing. ‘If they were took, they can be took back.’
Mary stops her wailing suddenly and pulls away from Jessica’s arms, shaking her dark head vigorously. ‘Nah! They said I couldn’t never get them back, Jessie! They said they’s from the Aborigines’ Protection Board, and it’s the law o’ the land. They brought a big truck and put me kids in the back and drove away! There were other kids in there also, took from Warangesda and Grong Grong!’
Jessica tries to comfort Mary. ‘I know a man, you know the one I told you about, who helped me? He’s a clever lawyer — it’s him what got me outa the loony-bin. You never mind a thing, Mary, we’ll go see him in Wagga, you hear me?’
Three days later Jessica and Mary arrive by train in Wagga to see Richard Runche KC. Before she left Jessica arranged for the aunties to feed and water the turkeys and the chickens and to give Rusty his tucker. She’s wearing the shoes and one of the pretty dresses Dolly bought for her and she’s given the other to Mary to wear, though her friend’s once skinny shape has expanded a bit from her constant childbearing and a diet consisting of too much white flour, sugar and bread. Over the years Jessica has continued to correspond with the barrister, but in the last two years he has replied spasmodically and the few letters she’s received are increasingly illegible and scratchy. ‘The grape is taking its toll, my dear, the circuit court has little use for me these days,’ he’d confided in the last one she’d received several months back.
Jessica and Mary go directly to the Albion, the hotel where she’d first met Richard Runche at breakfast. She’d been sending her letters here and so is confident of finding him. To her surprise Jimmy Jenkins, the young lad who helped on that first day, is lording it behind the desk and it’s clear from his manner that he’s become the boss cocky of the desk. In the last nine years he’s grown quite plump and is beginning to lose his hair. He wears a black suit with a white shirt, celluloid collar and black tie and sports a watch chain across his little pot-belly. Seeing the two women walking in, one of them being a black, Jimmy’s expression becomes alarmed.
‘Yes?’ he inquires, his voice not in the least accommodating. Nothing about the two women standing in front of him suggests the need for respect.
‘Hello, Jimmy Jenkins, remember me?’ Jessica says brightly.
Jimmy looks at Jessica and then pulls his head back in surprise. ‘My God, it’s you! From that trial!’ He appears to be thinking, snapping his fingers. ‘Jessie!’ he says at last.
Jessica smiles shyly. ‘Same rotten egg,’ she jokes, then turns and touches Mary Simpson on the shoulder. ‘This is Mary, my best friend.’
“Owyagoin’,’ Mary says softly, not presuming to raise her eyes to look at the man before her.
Jimmy Jenkins gives her the briefest nod. Jessica in his hotel is one thing, but the Aboriginal woman is quite another.
Jessica touches Mary on the arm. ‘Mr Jenkins here is an old friend who done me a great favour once.’ She smiles at him. He’s a real good bloke.’
Jimmy Jenkins proves to be as vulnerable to flattery as ever and his demeanour immediately softens. ‘Nice to see you, Jessica, I’ve never forgot you.’
‘That’s nice, me neither — see how I remembered your name right off?’
‘What brings you here?’ Jimmy Jenkins now asks.
‘You’re from down Narrandera way, ain’t you?’
Jessica nods. She can see that despite his friendly tone he’s growing increasingly anxious and keeps looking about him. Same old Jimmy Jenkins, she thinks, still shit-scared of the management. Mary’s continued presence in the hotel lobby is obviously upsetting him. ‘We’ve come to see Mr Runche again,’ she announces.
A look of relief crosses Jimmy’s face. ‘Oh, he don’t live here any more, Jessie.’
Jessica looks up, surprised. ‘But I send him letters here.’
‘Yeah, that’s right, but we pass them on. He lives down at Ma Shannon’s now.’
‘Mrs Shannon? At the boarding house?’
‘Yeah, that’s right,’ Jimmy says.
Jessica turns to Mary. ‘That’s where we stayed last time, me old man and me. It’s very nice,’ she explains. ‘Well, it ain’t really a boarding house now, more a doss-house for down-an’-outers. They even take .. .’
Jimmy stops, realising just in time what he was about to say.
‘Abos?’ Jessica says it for him.
‘Well, yes,’ he says embarrassed, not looking at Mary.
‘Good, then maybe we can get a room there,’ Jessica says tartly. ‘Jimmy Jenkins, you always was a bloody snob. Come, Mary, let’s go.’
They have almost reached the door when Jimmy Jenkins shouts, ‘Better take a bottle with you!’
They take his advice and buy a bottle on their way out. Richard Runche has always been the worse for wear, or at least he has ever since Jessica has known him. But she is not prepared for what they find when fat old gin-swilling Ma Shannon takes them to his room.
‘Help yerself,’ she says. ‘Buggered if I’m goin’ in. If he’s dead gi’s ahoy.’