Between the Devlin and the Deep Blue Seas by Robert G. Barrett

he’s going somewhere decent. Then a guilty thought struck Les. What if Hoppy didn’t have that sister in Newcastle? He was going to toss him out on the street. Les swallowed hard and looked at the little caretaker standing there putting on his cardigan.
    â€˜What about the rest of your stuff?’ he said, nodding to the kitchen.
    â€˜Like I said, Les. It’s all yours.’ Hoppy smiled at Norton. ‘You’re gonna need it, mate. You’ve got alimony payments and all that coming up. I remember my divorce. I know what the bastards are like.’
    Les gave the little caretaker a soft smile. ‘Ohh, that’s what I meant to tell you. The estate agent said to give you this. I think it’s a bit of a square-off from the owner.’ He fished into his jeans and pulled out two hundred dollars which he handed to the caretaker. ‘Better than a poke in the eye with a chopstick.’
    â€˜Well, bugger me!’ said Hoppy, staring at the money. Then he laughed. ‘This proves one thing for sure. Whoever the owner is, he couldn’t possibly be a mate of the agents. ’Cause those two pricks wouldn’t give you the steam off their shit.’
    â€˜You still want that lift into Central?’
    â€˜Yeah,’ nodded Olsen. ‘Let’s go. And don’t even drive past the agent’s. If you hadn’t come round I wouldn’t even have closed the door behind me.’
    Norton picked up the ex-caretaker’s suitcase, switched off the light and led him out towards the car. As they got to the front, Olsen stopped in the doorway, unzipped his fly and pissed all over the front of the flats.
    â€˜You’re the caretaker now,’ he winked at Les. ‘You can clean it up.’ He zipped up his fly and followed Les over to the old Ford.
    On the way into town, Hoppy gave Les the key to his flat and the storeroom. There was no master key to any of the other flats but he did have a key to flat five; the bikie had left it with him when he put his stuff in the storeroom. He told Les when the garbage went out and one or two other things. All in all nothing for Les to get too enthused about. Then they were at Central.
    Olsen said there was no need for Les to help him with his bag, there’d be a train before long and he wanted to sit on his own and have a couple of beers and read the paper while he waited. They shook hands. Les wished Olsen all the best in Newcastle and Olsen wished Les all the best with his new job at Blue Seas and hoped his divorce worked out okay. Then as if by magic, the little caretaker was swallowed up in the crowds of other country travellers coming and going with their suitcases among the platforms at Central Railway.
    Norton sat in his car for a moment and had a think. There wasn’t all that much to think about, except that he was now another two hundred down the drain. He started the car and for some reason headed back to Blue Seas Apartments.
    Well, me old mate Hoppy sure travelled light and didn’t believe in too many luxuries, mused Les, as he had a bit of a browse round the ex-caretaker’s flat. There was nothing in the wardrobe except a few coat hangers and an old copy of the
Herald
. The remains of some coffee sugar and detergent sat in the kitchen and the fridge contained a bit of milk, margarine and half a tomato. There was no TV, no radio and no blankets. Then again thought Les, he probably knew he was splitting and got rid of all that, if there was any, beforehe left. He had a quick look out the kitchen window into the backyard: there was still no one around and he hadn’t noticed anybody when he came in. Norton left the fairly dismal scene and decided to check out the storeroom.
    The key fitted and there was a light switch near the door. The storeroom was windowless, gloomy and just as grimy and dusty as the laundry, with possibly more cobwebs and dead flies. Boxes of old newspapers and bottles Uttered the floor