Trust Me

  Dulcie shook her head. ‘I need to see her straight away, I can’t wait,’ she said. ‘Apart from anything else she might get wind I’m in town and vanish again. Besides, I have to see Noël is all right.’

  Rudie made a defeated gesture with his hands. ‘Okay, for the baby’s sake. But I don’t like the thought of you going there alone.’

  ‘I shouldn’t think she’d let me in unless I was alone.’

  ‘I could come with you and wait around the corner. At least I’d be close if anything happened.’

  ‘What can happen in broad daylight?’ she asked, and smiled at him. ‘The worst she can do is tell me to push off. If she senses you’re close she’ll just be more tense.’

  ‘We’ll get a taxi up there now then,’ he said, taking her elbow and leading her towards the park gates. ‘Just so you can see where it is.’

  Rudie asked the taxi driver to slow right down as they went down Forbes Street. The first thing that struck Dulcie was that it looked much like any ordinary working-class area, nothing at all to suggest it was a nest of vice. The tall, almost barrack-style terraced houses were grimy and lacking in paint, and there were no trees or window-boxes to soften the greyness of it. But it was quiet, the few people walking along it looked harmless, there were even a few children playing cricket.

  ‘That’s it, number 52,’ Rudie said, pointing to a house where the door was open, revealing a dark and grubby-looking hall. ‘The person who gave me the information thinks she’s on the top floor at the back.’

  They drove straight back to the hotel afterwards as they were both expected for the evening meal. Rudie left immediately afterwards because Dulcie was so tired, but as he left he stopped for a moment and took both her hands.

  ‘Good luck for tomorrow,’ he said, his dark eyes full of concern. ‘Ring me as soon as you’ve seen her.’

  Dulcie woke up before six the following morning, and unable to drift off again, she got up and sat by the window looking at the view of Sydney Harbour. There was a haze of mist just above the water, and the air was full of circling gulls. She could look right down on to the quay where she’d walked yesterday with Rudie, it had been crowded with people then, but now the birds had it all to themselves. A couple of pelicans sat like two old men on two capstans, egrets with their long thin beaks pecked at litter left from the night before. It was such a beautiful and peaceful scene she felt her eyes prickle with tears.

  Just twenty-four hours ago she was still on the train, opening the blind to see the Blue Mountains. Who would have thought that in such a short time she could have experienced so much? It was as if she’d been turned upside down and shaken, loosening up all her ideals and principles, and injected with a whole new morality.

  A couple of weeks ago she would have been shocked rigid to hear of anyone living with a man they weren’t married to. Now she knew her own sister had done that, had a baby, was selling her body and was almost certainly under the control of a pimp. And all this knowledge had come from a man she barely knew! A short while ago she would have wanted to believe that May’s downfall was entirely Rudie’s doing, but she knew better now. Rudie, with his almost transparent honesty, had shown her a side of May she could never even have dreamt of.

  How odd it was too that she could talk of such shocking things, almost effortlessly, to a stranger, yet she couldn’t talk to her own husband about their problems within their marriage.

  Now she was intending to go alone to that house in Forbes Street, to face her sister who would very likely be hostile. Yet she wasn’t really scared. Why was that?

  It seemed to be something in the air in Sydney. All day yesterday she’d felt a kind of fizz inside her that she’d never experienced back in Esperance. She liked the crowds, the traffic, the noise and bustle. She wanted to walk alone around the streets and make this city her own. Was that why Bruce seemed afraid she wouldn’t want to come home?

  ‘You’ve got to go back,’ she reminded herself aloud. ‘You can’t run out on Ross.’

  Yet just thinking of him made the fizz die within her. She had telephoned Bruce briefly last night just to say she was safe and Rudie was even nicer than they’d both expected. Bruce asked if he should run over and call Ross, but she’d said she was running out of change. A poor excuse, but she didn’t want to hear that bleakness in his voice.

  Nancy had thoughtfully left an electric kettle in the room and a tray of tea things. She made some tea and took it back to the window, thinking about what she should wear today. She supposed just jeans and a jumper would be fine, casual enough not to draw attention to herself, and comfortable too if she ended up walking a long way.

  At half past seven she went downstairs to have her breakfast. Nancy gave her a wide smile as she saw her coming down the stairs. ‘Did you sleep well?’ she asked.

  Dulcie had taken to freckle-faced Nancy immediately, her London voice held good memories of her granny, the warmth with which she’d welcomed her to her hotel made her feel safe, and there was something about the woman’s bright eyes, a kind of happy glow from within her, which made her feel that before long they’d be firm friends.

  ‘Like a log,’ Dulcie replied. ‘It’s a very comfy bed. But I don’t think I really want any breakfast, thank you.’

  ‘Oh yes, you must, just have some cereal and see how that goes down. I’ve found a little map of the city so you don’t get lost, go on in the dining-room and sit down, I’ll bring it with the tea in a minute.’

  *

  Dulcie got the taxi driver to stop in William Street at the end of Forbes Street and after paying him, walked to number 52, her heart thumping like a steam engine. What was she going to do if May slammed the door in her face? What if there was a man with her?

  There were several bells on the door, but May’s name wasn’t on any of them, so she rang the bottom one which had no name on it. No one answered, and she was just going to try another one when suddenly the door opened and a woman of around forty clutching a dressing-gown round her glowered at her.

  ‘Yes?’ she said.

  ‘I’m so sorry to wake you,’ Dulcie said. ‘I wanted May Taylor, but her name isn’t on any of the bells.’

  ‘Doubt if she’d answer it if it was,’ the woman snapped. ‘You’d better go on up.’

  ‘Which room is it?’ Dulcie said once she was half-way up the dirty hall.

  ‘Follow the screaming,’ the woman grunted before disappearing through a door at the back of the house.

  Dulcie could hear a baby crying and she covered her nose as she started up the stairs. The smell was awful – stale cooking, lavatories and mildew all mixed up. She had smelt this before but it wasn’t until she reached the very top of the stairs and saw a large white sink on the landing that she remembered where. It was the house they lived in at New Cross during the war.

  The crying baby was another reminder, May used to cry a great deal in those days. Dulcie could see herself rocking the pram because Mum was trying to have a rest. It was almost like going round in a circle and finding yourself back where you started, only she and May were grownup now, and the crying baby was her sister’s.

  Bracing herself, Dulcie knocked on the door.

  ‘Oh, for God’s sake, I can’t help him crying,’ came May’s yell from within. There was a sound of feet stamping angrily across the floor and the door flew open.

  ‘Dulcie!’ May gasped, her hands flying up to her mouth. ‘Oh my God!’

  She looked terrible, wearing a stained nightdress and with her hair like a bird’s nest. There were dark shadows under her eyes and her complexion was muddy.

  ‘Hello, May,’ Dulcie said, walking in before May could gather her wits to stop her.

  She took in the room with one horrified glance. It was untidy, dirty, it stank of soiled nappies and vomit and it was very cold. But she barely took in the unmade bed, the piles of strewn clothes and unwashed dishes. Her eyes went straight to the pram, a navy-blue carry-cot on wheels. Two little fists and bare feet w
ere just visible. Dulcie was over to it in a trice.

  He had dark hair, and he was red in the face from screaming. A half-empty bottle was propped up beside him, which had clearly fallen out of his mouth, and his little nightdress was sodden.

  Dulcie picked him up. ‘He’s soaking wet,’ she exclaimed.

  May was just standing there, so taken aback she hadn’t even shut the door.

  ‘And you mustn’t leave a baby with a bottle like that, it’s dangerous,’ Dulcie said.

  May recovered herself. ‘Same old Dulcie, always knows everything,’ she jeered at her, moving nearer to her. ‘Put him back and piss off.’

  ‘I won’t,’ Dulcie said more calmly than she felt. ‘Shut that door. Give me a clean nappy and some dry clothes, and while I’m changing him you warm up that bottle.’

  ‘Now look here,’ May said, but she shut the door anyway. ‘Don’t you think you can come marching in here telling me what to do.’

  Dulcie ignored her, swept the clothes off the chair, and sat down with the baby on her lap. She had often changed Doreen’s baby since they became friends, but she hadn’t expected that the training would come in useful so soon. But as she unpinned Noël’s nappy she saw his bottom was red raw. She could tell May hardly ever changed him. No wonder he was so angry!

  ‘He’s got awful nappy rash,’ she shouted above the screaming. ‘Have you got any cream for him?’

  ‘There’s some over there,’ May snapped. ‘On the dressing table.’ She had moved over to the sink and she was fiddling with some kind of water heater on the wall above it.

  Holding Noël under one arm, Dulcie got the cream. She smeared it all over the red area, then folded the clean nappy May had slapped at her. It was badly stained, but it would do for now. Then she got him a dry vest and another little nightgown and he began to stop crying. May brought over the bottle in a jug of hot water. After testing the temperature, Dulcie wrapped a blanket round him to keep him warm and began feeding him.

  ‘Right,’ she said finally. ‘Looks like I came at the right time. Now, while I’m feeding him, why don’t you tidy up?’

  From her position in the corner close to the window, Dulcie could take in the whole room. The kitchen part was sectioned off with a high counter and contained a sink, cooker and fridge. The main part of the room held a double bed, two armchairs and a large wardrobe which covered one wall, plus the dressing-table. The stained wallpaper was hanging off the walls in some places, the furniture was battered and ancient. Like the sink out on the landing, it took Dulcie right back to New Cross and brought back unpleasant early memories of her mother lying in bed most of the day.

  ‘How did you find out where I was?’ May said, standing in front of Dulcie with her hands on her hips.

  ‘Through Rudie,’ Dulcie said, trying not to get angry at May’s indifference to her and the baby. ‘I wouldn’t have come after all the wicked lies you’ve told him about me, if it wasn’t for finding out about this little one. But get on with the clearing up while we talk. I don’t want to sit in a dunny all day, even if you don’t mind.’

  ‘Who the fuck do you think you are?’ May snarled at her. ‘I don’t need you around, bugger off.’

  ‘You were once such a lady,’ Dulcie said, looking right into her sister’s eyes. ‘Don’t swear at me, May. It doesn’t impress me.’

  Their eyes remained locked for a few moments, and Dulcie was determined she wasn’t going to look away first. She knew her only chance with May was to keep the superior position, to give her no opportunity to lie, manipulate her, or to make her cry.

  ‘Clear up now,’ she commanded.

  Surprisingly, May got on with it. She made the bed, then folded it back into a settee, picked up all the dirty dishes and took them into the kitchen, then she came back to collect up all the clothes. Dulcie realized it had also given May a chance to collect herself and she guessed she would go on the attack before long.

  ‘You’ve already made up your mind that I’m in the wrong, haven’t you?’ May said as she hung dresses on hangers and shoved sweaters into drawers. ‘You’ve listened to Mr Fancy Pants and taken his word for everything.’

  Noël finished his bottle and Dulcie lifted him up to wind him. He was the sweetest little thing, dark brown hair, his eyes still blue, but they looked as if they were turning brown. He didn’t look like May had as a baby. She knew she mustn’t show that her emotions were being tugged by this tiny, helpless little chap.

  ‘Rudie wrote to me after finding the letters I wrote to you at St Vincent’s and at Peppermint Grove. You hung yourself by leaving them at his house because through them he realized everything you’d told him about both of us was lies. But he didn’t find them till after someone he knew saw you with a baby. The reason he wrote to me was because he feared for Noël. From what I’ve seen this morning he was right to be afraid.’

  She saw May’s face contort, perhaps because of the reference to the letters and because she knew she had been well and truly found out.

  ‘I’m not usually like this. I had a bad night,’ May said, moving over to the kitchen area to fill the sink with hot water. She suddenly spun round to look at Dulcie, her brow furrowing. ‘Hey, how did you get that good with babies? Have you got one of your own now?’

  ‘No,’ Dulcie said. ‘And don’t try to change the subject. I’m not leaving here until you’ve told me the truth. Why did you tell such wicked lies about me, and turn your back on me, May? Why did you leave Rudie when you were already pregnant, and how have you ended up as a prostitute?’

  ‘You’ve always been on my back.’ May glowered at her. ‘Always the goodie-goodie, aren’t you? Why can’t you face it that we’ve got nothing in common, apart from the same mother? Get out of my life, and stay out of it. I don’t want you or need you. I never have. You make me sick.’

  Dulcie felt as if she’d been punched in the stomach, and if it hadn’t been for the baby in her arms, so warm against her shoulder, she might have walked out.

  ‘You’re right, we’ve got nothing in common,’ she agreed. ‘You’re a dirty slut now and I don’t relish the thought that you are my sister. But this is my nephew, and until I discover that you love him and will protect him and take care of him properly, and answer my questions, I’m not leaving. Have you got that?’ she finished up. ‘You’ve got one chance, that’s all. Tell me the truth!’

  May looked winded now. ‘I didn’t mean to tell a lot of lies about you,’ she said in a softer tone, as she made two cups of instant coffee and lit up a cigarette. ‘Yeah, I did plan leaving Esperance on that day knowing I’d see Rudie again, I knew he liked me and I guessed he had money, so I said what I did to get his sympathy. Then we got here and he took me to his house, well, it took my breath away it was so nice, I wanted to stay with him, for the first time ever I felt secure and happy. So I had to stick with the story I’d told him. That’s why I couldn’t write to you.’

  ‘So you would have cut me out of your life for ever rather than own up you’d told a lot of lies?’

  May shrugged. ‘We got by before when Mother wasn’t giving me your letters.’

  Dulcie assumed that meant May would have been prepared to lose her for ever.

  ‘Did you love Rudie?’ she asked.

  May gave her a cold stare. ‘What’s that got to do with anything?’

  ‘I would have thought it had everything to do with it. You lived with him, you slept with him. Did you love him?’

  ‘I sleep with men to get what I want,’ May said. ‘I don’t wrap it up in all that stupid soppy stuff, only creeps like you need to do that to justify it.’

  Dulcie was shaken by the venom in her voice.

  ‘What made you feel that way?’ she asked in bewilderment.

  ‘If you were to live around here for a while you’d soon find out,’ May said, stubbing out her cigarette and immediately lighting another one. ‘Sex is just another commodity. Wives trade it for being looked after, tarts take money for it.’

/>   ‘But you haven’t been here that long,’ Dulcie reminded her. ‘You weren’t a prostitute when you first met Rudie.’

  ‘You think you know me so well, but you know nothing,’ May shouted at her. ‘Even back in the Sacred Heart I learned to get an easy time of it I had to suck up to the Sisters and the older girls. By the time I was twelve I had to let Mother kiss me on the mouth, rub my tits and stick her fingers up my knicker legs. It’s much the same with the punters who pay me now. I don’t have to like it, I just trade it.’

  Dulcie involuntarily clutched Noël tighter. ‘The Reverend Mother did that to you?’

  May gave a mirthless laugh. ‘Oh, you’d like to think I was lying, wouldn’t you? Well, I’m not. Why do you think I got the treats, piano lessons, extra food, didn’t have my hair hacked off? It was a trade-off, I sat on her lap and let her fiddle with me and in return I got all that and didn’t get beaten.’

  Dulcie was winded, so shocked she hardly knew what to say. ‘I knew you were her pet, but I didn’t think –’

  ‘Think!’ May interrupted her. ‘You couldn’t think of things like that, you’re too bloody holy. Look at that time you took the beating instead of saying I’d taken those toffees. You were a mug, a bloody drongo. It didn’t teach me anything except that I’d got to be a bit more devious next time I swiped something!’

  ‘Didn’t you even feel ashamed?’ Dulcie gasped.

  ‘Ashamed of what? For nicking some sweets that were ours by rights? No, I bloody wasn’t. You traded yourself too, by taking that beating without telling Mother it was me, you became a bloody heroine. You got your reward, everyone sniffed round you and loved you for ever more.’

  ‘I did it to save you being hurt,’ Dulcie said shakily. ‘Not to be a heroine.’

  ‘But you didn’t mind hurting me by ignoring me for weeks after,’ May spat back. ‘I felt cast out, like a bloody leper. Was it any wonder I crept round Mother for a bit of comfort and affection?’