Read Online The Delinquents by Criena Rohan - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Criena Rohan
Tags: Classic fiction
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some costume jewellery (most noticeable being a pair of huge gypsy earrings); some Helena Rubinstein make-up; one towel with Matson Line stamped on it; a copy of the
Shropshire Lad
; a bottle of Widow Wise’s Pills (Ladies end irregularity without delay); and a pair of light blue Sears Roebuck jeans.
‘Get into the jeans,’ said Brownie.
‘Browning darling, where are we going?’
He laughed across at her where she stood by the suit-case. She was dressed as when the landlady attacked her—ankle-strap shoes and a black satin slip. She had draped a long black stole, hand-knitted in wool, around her shoulders for warmth, and she was making a terrible job of the packing.
‘Darling,’ he said, ‘leave it all to me. You need someone to look after you as usual—Lord you’re a useless little thing. Just put the things you need for the night in your handbag’ (Lola promptly tipped the make-up and the jewellery into the shoulder-strap bag) ‘and get into your jeans and do what you’re told like a good little girl. Have you got any flat shoes?’
A frantic search found a pair of little flat velvet slippers such as matadors wear, under the wardrobe; socks to wear with them this cold night were not forthcoming, and then Teddy Langley, coming in to invite them for a farewell drink, offered a pair of navy blue two-way stretch. Lola introduced Brownie with the usual formula:
‘Teddy this is Brownie that I was always talking about.’ Then she put on the socks and turned them under at the heel.
‘So much more comfortable than taking in the slack at the toes,’ she told them.
They had the drink with Teddy and were ready to go. At the last moment Teddy took his football supporter’s cap from his pocket and set it on her head. It was a knitted cap with a pom-pom, white and black, for Teddy was a Collingwood supporter by religious conviction.
‘There you are you one-eyed Demon fan,’ he said. ‘I suppose it’ll kill you to wear it, but you have to keep dry; you’ve been very sick.’
‘Can you grab a cab while I get the case downstairs?’ said Brownie, who did not much care for it when Lola woke the protective instinct in other males. Teddy got the cab and Brownie carried her case. Lola left in style.
‘Wacko! Who would have thought that I’d drive away in a taxi?’ she said. ‘Now, Brownie, what gives with you, where are we going?’
But he wouldn’t tell her till they got out at Flinders Street Station and cloaked her suit-case in the baggage-room.
‘Now look, Lola,’ he said. ‘Come and eat and I’ll tell you what I’m going to do. You’ll have to be careful and do everything I say because it’s a risk, but it’s our only chance to be together—O.K.?’
She nodded at him like a docile child.
‘You’re looking after me now,’ she said.
So, sitting in the Greek’s over spaghetti and meat balls, he told her:
‘Look, Lola, I’ll have to get you in off the street somewhere tonight or you’ll be vagged; and I haven’t got much money left so I’m taking you down on the ship.’
Lola looked eager.
‘I’ll like that,’ she said.
‘It’s not that much,’ he warned her. ‘Nothing like parties on ships and so on. We’ve been laid up for six weeks. I suppose you’ve heard the miners are on strike?’
Lola had heard it vaguely.
‘Well, the ships are tied up for lack of coal, or the shipping companies are saying they have no coal, that way they make the miners look bastards, and on my ship they’ve only kept me and the bosun working by. I’ll try and get you on board for tonight and maybe tomorrow you can get a job somewhere, just to keep you going till next pay-day—that is, if you’re well enough, darling. The bosun is living in a pub up on shore. He comes down in the morning and puts me on the shake but I’ll have you out of the way by then. Want to give it a go?’
‘O.K. Let’s go.’
He zipped her bag inside his leather jacket, turned her coat collar up around her
Shropshire Lad
; a bottle of Widow Wise’s Pills (Ladies end irregularity without delay); and a pair of light blue Sears Roebuck jeans.
‘Get into the jeans,’ said Brownie.
‘Browning darling, where are we going?’
He laughed across at her where she stood by the suit-case. She was dressed as when the landlady attacked her—ankle-strap shoes and a black satin slip. She had draped a long black stole, hand-knitted in wool, around her shoulders for warmth, and she was making a terrible job of the packing.
‘Darling,’ he said, ‘leave it all to me. You need someone to look after you as usual—Lord you’re a useless little thing. Just put the things you need for the night in your handbag’ (Lola promptly tipped the make-up and the jewellery into the shoulder-strap bag) ‘and get into your jeans and do what you’re told like a good little girl. Have you got any flat shoes?’
A frantic search found a pair of little flat velvet slippers such as matadors wear, under the wardrobe; socks to wear with them this cold night were not forthcoming, and then Teddy Langley, coming in to invite them for a farewell drink, offered a pair of navy blue two-way stretch. Lola introduced Brownie with the usual formula:
‘Teddy this is Brownie that I was always talking about.’ Then she put on the socks and turned them under at the heel.
‘So much more comfortable than taking in the slack at the toes,’ she told them.
They had the drink with Teddy and were ready to go. At the last moment Teddy took his football supporter’s cap from his pocket and set it on her head. It was a knitted cap with a pom-pom, white and black, for Teddy was a Collingwood supporter by religious conviction.
‘There you are you one-eyed Demon fan,’ he said. ‘I suppose it’ll kill you to wear it, but you have to keep dry; you’ve been very sick.’
‘Can you grab a cab while I get the case downstairs?’ said Brownie, who did not much care for it when Lola woke the protective instinct in other males. Teddy got the cab and Brownie carried her case. Lola left in style.
‘Wacko! Who would have thought that I’d drive away in a taxi?’ she said. ‘Now, Brownie, what gives with you, where are we going?’
But he wouldn’t tell her till they got out at Flinders Street Station and cloaked her suit-case in the baggage-room.
‘Now look, Lola,’ he said. ‘Come and eat and I’ll tell you what I’m going to do. You’ll have to be careful and do everything I say because it’s a risk, but it’s our only chance to be together—O.K.?’
She nodded at him like a docile child.
‘You’re looking after me now,’ she said.
So, sitting in the Greek’s over spaghetti and meat balls, he told her:
‘Look, Lola, I’ll have to get you in off the street somewhere tonight or you’ll be vagged; and I haven’t got much money left so I’m taking you down on the ship.’
Lola looked eager.
‘I’ll like that,’ she said.
‘It’s not that much,’ he warned her. ‘Nothing like parties on ships and so on. We’ve been laid up for six weeks. I suppose you’ve heard the miners are on strike?’
Lola had heard it vaguely.
‘Well, the ships are tied up for lack of coal, or the shipping companies are saying they have no coal, that way they make the miners look bastards, and on my ship they’ve only kept me and the bosun working by. I’ll try and get you on board for tonight and maybe tomorrow you can get a job somewhere, just to keep you going till next pay-day—that is, if you’re well enough, darling. The bosun is living in a pub up on shore. He comes down in the morning and puts me on the shake but I’ll have you out of the way by then. Want to give it a go?’
‘O.K. Let’s go.’
He zipped her bag inside his leather jacket, turned her coat collar up around her
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