Published: 20 Oct 2022

Little Victoria Street appeared bleak to Dev as he approached, as he was beginning to associate with a better life and one away from poverty. Firstly there was the constant stench of sewerage and some animal decaying at distance, then the noise of children playing in the street while dodging traffic and washing lines with white linen turning grayer with each wash, hanging alongside holed trousers and patched dresses.

When living at home in Little Victoria he never saw the poverty as it was part of the way of things. He thought natural the stench, the mothers screaming obscenities at their children and their husbands, now all of it was an unpleasant invasion to his senses. Reaching the door he entered without knocking to find Jack seated reading a newspaper.

“Last week’s paper?” Dev says noticing the cover story regarding the demise of the station master at Hawksburn while he was crossing the tracks behind a suburban train, without noticing a goods service coming from the opposing direction. The force of the goods locomotive threw him against the platform killing him instantly.

Jack closed the paper placing it aside, “not everyone can afford a daily paper,” he says.

“I’m not rich I assure you,” Dev protests.

“Do you pay rent?”

“No,”

“Then you are rich. I knew him,” Jack nods towards the folded paper.

“Who,”

“Charlie Heatley, the stationmaster who was killed at Hawksburn station.”

“Where is Jonesy?”

“Out the back, it is his turn for the washing.”

As Jack spoke Jones returned to the room.

“Dev, me’ old matey, I was about to visit you.”

Jack stands and collects a few coins from the table. He pockets the coins, “well I’ll leave you two to talk about your boyfriends, so I’m off to the pub.”

“Would you like some money?” Dev asks.

“Do you think I need charity?”

“It’s not charity when its family Jack.”

“A couple of shillings wouldn’t go astray.”

Dev passes a half sovereign to Jack.

“I said you were rich,”

“It is all I have until payday, I only get two and a half quid a week,” Dev admits, “and from that I have to pay for my horticulture lessons which take up most of it.”

“Still I’ll have it, – see ya’,”

“Yes See you Jack, by the way it’s your birthday in two weeks what would you like?”

“I thought you said you are almost broke,”

“I can still scrape a shilling or so to get you something,”

“I’ll get back to you on that one.” Jack departs without further discussion on his coming celebration.

Jones puts the kettle to the stove, “Coffee?” he offers.

“Why not,”

“How is everything with Toby?”

“Good but what I’ve come about is, I was talking with your Mr. Dyer yesterday,” Dev says.

“How is dear Raymond?”

“Worried,”

“Yes,” Jones simply responds as the kettle comes to boil.

“He said you were to visit him and didn’t turn up.”

Jones makes the coffee, “sugar,” he says.

“Two please,”

“I’m afraid we are out of sugar.”

“Then just coffee, why didn’t you keep the visit with Mr. Dyer?”

Jones takes his time. He pours the coffee and sits holding his mug in both hands allowing the steam to sooth his eyes.

“You’re not answering – what’s up?”

“Are you in love with Toby?” Jones eventually asks.

“I guess I am.”

“There is my problem,”

Dev remained silent while waiting for his friend to continue.

“Raymond said he loves me,”

“Isn’t that good?”

“I don’t love Raymond. Dev I don’t love anyone. I am incapable of loving and after what I went through down on the docks and my past life, I don’t even want sex with anyone anymore.”

“What no one?”

“No one Dev, it is easier that way.”

“You will have to let Mr. Dyer know.”

“Could you? I haven’t the heart to let him down.”

“I suppose I could ask Toby to speak with him.”

“Jack also has some news, I’m surprised he didn’t mention but I will.”

“What would that be?”

“He is going to join the military, there is talk of a war in South Africa with the Dutch and he said he needs a little excitement, also he wishes to travel to America to try and find his father.”

“Oh,”

“Also me Dev, I also have news.”

“After all that I don’t know if I want to hear your news.”

“I’m leaving Melbourne,”

“Why?” Dev could feel emotion building in his chest rising to lump in his throat.

“It is easier that way. I have found work on a property at Yallock Creek in Gippsland near a town Koo Wee Rup; to be honest it isn’t much of a town and only last year its post office opened but there is a general store.”

“I won’t see you again,”

“Of course you will, you can visit and I can come down and visit you.”

“I’ll miss you,”

“And I will miss you but I must do this. I must start again. You have a new life with Toby, Jack will have the military and I will have seclusion. I am actually looking forward to a new start in life.”

“Therefore I should be happy for you; when will it happen?”

“With Jack it will be by the end of the month as for me, possibly next week or the following week.”

“We will have to get together before you go and let Jack know I’m not happy he didn’t mention it.”

“He has changed since Ilene passed on.”

“In what way?”

“He has become withdrawn; it is as if he is searching for something and there is a large black hole in his existence.”

“I should have visited more often but coming over here has too many memories.”

“If there had been any person I could have loved it would be Ilene but as has happened with most in my life, the moment I found my solitude it was taken away from me,” Jones admits.

“I believe mum would have liked hearing that from you Doug, she always had a soft spot for you. Did you know she once gave your father a right toweling over his treatment of you?”

“No,”

“She did, more than once and threatened to have the police onto him.”

“It obviously didn’t work,” Jones says.

“Have you revisited your father?”

“He’s dead.”

“When?”

“Some time back, I had a letter from the foundry manager where he was night watchman, as the asylum didn’t know how to contact me. They dumped him in an unmarked pauper’s grave.”

“Have you visited his grave?”

“I have no with to do so.”

“How does that make you feel?”

“Nothing,” Jones shrugs away the question.

“Are you going to tell the others about your leaving?”

“Could you? I haven’t seen Fisky for an age or Luck,” Jones asks.

“Same here, I could let them know, possibly we all could get together for old time’s sake.”

“Yes I would like that,”

Some days after Dev had visited Jack and Jones, he was approached from behind with a heavy tap to the shoulder. He turned abruptly and was about to relate his displeasure when he discovered Brian Fisk.

“Fisky’ you old bugger what are you up to?”

“I’m back working with Ben, what about you?”

“I’m studying horticulture and working at Como house.”

“Fallen on ya’ feet eh?”

“Yes I enjoy the work and the study, have you seen Luck?”

“Not a dick- bird from him,” Fisk says using the cockney slang he was prone towards.

“Have you heard Jonesy’ is going up country?” Dev asks.

“Never – what about you as last I heard you were shacked up with some rich toff down by the river.”

“I also work for Tobias Nevis at his house in Jolimont,” Dev coyly answered.

“Is that what it is called these days?”

Dev was annoyed by his friend’s suggestive attitude but let it pass. “Did you hear the police questioned me over the murder of Bryce?”

“Do they think you did it?”

“No it was said to tie up a few loose ends but there wasn’t much I could tell them.”

“Who do you think did Bryce in?”

“Possibly the Richmond lot he did poach on their territory, or there is strong suggestion it may have been Tom Hadley.”

“I wouldn’t put it past Hadley he is a right surly bugger and has a temper. That reminds me someone was down at fishermen’s jetty a month or so back asking after you.”

“Who?”

“He wouldn’t give a name or reason but said he had seen me with you during our push days and wanted to know where you lived, as you had moved out of home.”

“That is a little scary, you didn’t tell him?’

“How could I, at the time I hadn’t heard about you kicking around with your rich mate, besides I wouldn’t have told him even if I had known.”

“I have to get to the shops before closing, how about meeting up at my old place to wish Jonesy’ farewell,”

“When?”

“Next Sunday.”

“I think that should be alright but afternoon as I’ll have to go out with Ben early the next morning and don’t forget the public meeting.”

“What meeting?”

“The one being held by the committee from financial and control lot to do with the maritime strike.”

“Oh I read about it in the Argus, I don’t think I’ll be attending.” Dev says.

“Nor I, what about Luck, shouldn’t we invite him for Sunday?”

“I don’t know where he is,” Dev admits.

“I’ll ask about,”

“Righto I’ll see you Sunday – gotta’ go.”

As Dev moved on down the street his commenced to concern about the stranger who Fisk said was looking for him. It had to be one of Hadley’s underlings but what would they want. He brings to mind what Toby told him about someone from the Firm wishing him harm. Should he visit O’Keefe and explain what he believed to be a treat from the Firm or was it but words. If it was a shallow threat, one made in the heat of the moment then why would anyone need to know where he was living and would O’Keefe take such a threat seriously.

Dev remembers his days in the push and when they were engaged in territory wars with the neighbouring larrikins. Don’t go about alone, avoid dark alleyways, avoid crowds and keep a blade handy.’ The memory didn’t calm, only made him more conscious of those about, as any one of the young men he passed could attack in daylight and disappear into the crowd before he hit the pavement. A simple sideward thrust with a sharp blade in passing and he would be gone.

It was uncommon to see a killing in the city, as mostly gang reprisals were away from the general passage of the public, yet Dev felt vulnerable and was more than pleased to be again away from the city and on his way back to Jolimont. Don’t concern others will keep you safe. They were Toby’s words and from then until Fisk advised that someone was asking about him Dev hadn’t concerned. Now concern was becoming foremost.

Arriving home Dev discovered Toby to be in full military dress. “Did you get the book?” Toby asks as he straightened his tunic using the bedroom cupboard’s full length mirror.

“I did what is it all about?” Dev asks while placing a small parcel on the bed.

“It is by a local writer Fergus Hume and titled Mystery of a Hansom Cab,”

“I noticed the title as it was being wrapped but what’s the plot?”

“Murder and mystery, Raymond knew the author, he suggested I should read it.”

“Did you give Mr. Dyer, Jones’ message?”

“I did,”

“What did he say?”

“He simply shrugged it away,”

“You like most handsome in your uniform,” Dev admits with a cheeky grin.

“No time for that,”

“What’s going on?”

“The public meeting on Sunday, the government has called the Rangers to barracks, as they believe there could be a riot over the maritime strike.”

“What do you think will happen?”

“Not a lot, they will listen to speeches, cheer at the appropriate moment then disburse. In my opinion if they paid the poor buggers a living wage in the first instance there wouldn’t be a strike.”

“If that’s going to happen,” Dev says.

“True, I’ll be in barracks for a couple of days, will you be alright here on your own?”

“Yes,”

“If you need anything Hubbard will do for you.”

“I can manage for myself.”

“You’re not going to the meeting?”

“No, I can’t see how my voice could change anything but I do have a little concern.” Dev takes a deep breath before divulging what he had heard from Fitch.

“If you are concerned why not go up country and stay with Veronica for a while?”

“That would be running away,”

“Again I wouldn’t worry too much, as I believe the problem with the Firm is well advanced and the police will soon there will be a result.”

“What I don’t understand is why I would be a worry for them,”

“You did associate with Stanley Bryce,”

“Associate is too strong a word, I hardly knew him, only to let him know about an inscription on a laneway wall. I did visit him on two other occasions but nothing much was suggested except he wished to use me as a cocky,”

“Did you indicate you may accept?”

“No, by then I was over any idea of a future in crime and told him so.”

“It is possible others in his gang may have thought you were involved with him in some way.”

“I can’t see how, most of the time Bryce and his lot were giving us a hard time.”

“Dev, I have to leave for the barracks in a few minutes, Hubbard has called up a cab. I don’t like leaving you in this mood.”

“I’m alright I assure you, only a little concerned that is all.”

A slight clearing of the throat was sounded from the bedroom door as Hubbard came to advise that Toby’s cab was waiting.

“Let the driver know I’ll be along in a minute please Hubbard,”

With Hubbard gone Toby again questions Dev, “are you sure you will be alright?”

“Don’t worry, yes I’m fine,”

“Then for the next few days until after Sunday’s meeting don’t mingle with crowds.”

“That was my intention anyway,” Dev promises.

Sunday came and as for the public meeting it was most orderly. There were speeches and cheering from a crowd of more than sixty thousand as it congregated in Flinders Park. The first intention was to group outside Flinders Street railway station before progressing along Spring Street to the Bourke and Wills statue but that wasn’t sanctioned. During the main event there was a slight shower of rain but no one departed until all had spoken, then with a clapping of hands and more cheering the crowd dispersed without a single incident.

Before the rally the police magistrate Charles Shuter formally read the riot act and Tom Price of the mounted rifles directed his men that if it came to fruition, he didn’t wish to see one rifle pointed into the air, as it was up to every man to do his duty and lay them out. Fortunately except for observation there wasn’t any need for military response and at the end of the day Melbourne once again settled back into a sleepy existence with the maritime strike continuing to run its course.

Like with all strikes the striker’s money soon ran out and empty bellies brought about decision, so without choice they returned to their work. As for Tom Price he never quite lived down his command to lay them out, although he did explain to the police his intention was no more than to temporary disable them by firing at their legs.

Gary’s stories are about life for gay men in Australia’s past and present. Your emails to him are the only payment he receives. Email Gary to let him know you are reading: Gary dot Conder at CastleRoland dot Net

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