mates had covered up for him, feeling that every deck boy is entitled to one bender on a prostitute’s money.
‘It’s part of your education,’ said the bosun.
She used to wait for him at the dock gate after that and he found himself the recipient of much ribald congratulation.
‘How’s our deck boy?’ said his older shipmates. ‘He’s got a whore keeping him.’
Brownie felt very big. He only regretted that he frequently found Jan so very repulsive.
The next time the
Dalton
got into Brisbane she gave him a watch. However, some of her professional colleagues told him that it had been stolen from one of her customers, so Brownie, always a fair-minded lad, at least where his own sex was concerned, made her return it. Frantically she maintained that she loved him, and twice she infected him with the least dignified of parasites—lice. This caused so much merriment amongst his shipmates to whom he went for advice (and some very macabre advice was forthcoming) that he made a great joke of it also, though secretly he was disgusted and horrified to the very depths of his adolescent puritanical soul. The cleansing process almost caused him to vomit, nevertheless it had to be. Setting aside such jocular suggestions as castration and cauterization, he decided upon insecticide, and being too shy to walk into a chemist and demand blue ointment he performed the purification with Mortein plus. It is one hundred per cent effective, but has the one disadvantage that it removes anything up to about three layers of skin along with the parasites. So much for the first time. On the second occasion that he found himself infected he was more than a little annoyed.
‘She sure seems to be the careless type,’ said the bosun. ‘Don’t you find it a bit off putting?’
Brownie did, and the next time that he and Jan took to bed he pleaded alcohol and went to sleep. When he woke up he dressed straight away, took his shoes under his arm and sneaked out. Apparently Jan never forgave the slight to her professional pride, for when he was back in Brisbane a couple of months later she came down to the ship all friendliness and relatively spruce looking: ‘If Brownie would give her a couple of quid for a drink,’ she said, ‘and a quid for the hotel room, she would fix everything and meet him at the dock gates that evening.’
Brownie, on whom the celibate life had been weighing heavily, gave her the money and that was the last he saw of her for many a long day. From then on he ignored women till they became a matter of utmost physical necessity, and all the time he kept on looking for Lola.
*
He found her at last in Melbourne on a wet August day about twelve months after he went to sea. It was pay-day and he was in the ‘Havana’ wine lounge getting drunk. It was his practice to get drunk on payday; and as he had a grown man’s capacity and a deck boy’s pay, he drank wine, which was cheaper and quicker. And then he saw her. The ‘Havana’ was in a basement and Lola came down the stairs with a big, wide-shouldered girl whose hair was dyed an unfortunate shade of red, and they sat at a table near the wall and ordered a bottle of dry sherry.
Coming in they had not seen Brownie, who was in a corner by the bar, and now they sat with their backs to him. Brownie’s first reaction was that it could not be Lola. She looked terrible; half starved and sick and grubby and wretched, and she had blonded her hair, which did not suit her, and it was going black along the parting.
‘God,’ he thought, as he made his way between the tables, ‘what have they done to her?’
Now he was standing behind her and he put his hand on her shoulder and said:
‘Do you mind if I join you girls?’
She turned and looked into his face, and immediately she stood up and he took her in his arms. She was weeping and laughing and exclaiming all at once:
‘Oh, God, Brownie, it can’t be you, it can’t be you. Oh, Brownie, Brownie, darling.’ And
‘It’s part of your education,’ said the bosun.
She used to wait for him at the dock gate after that and he found himself the recipient of much ribald congratulation.
‘How’s our deck boy?’ said his older shipmates. ‘He’s got a whore keeping him.’
Brownie felt very big. He only regretted that he frequently found Jan so very repulsive.
The next time the
Dalton
got into Brisbane she gave him a watch. However, some of her professional colleagues told him that it had been stolen from one of her customers, so Brownie, always a fair-minded lad, at least where his own sex was concerned, made her return it. Frantically she maintained that she loved him, and twice she infected him with the least dignified of parasites—lice. This caused so much merriment amongst his shipmates to whom he went for advice (and some very macabre advice was forthcoming) that he made a great joke of it also, though secretly he was disgusted and horrified to the very depths of his adolescent puritanical soul. The cleansing process almost caused him to vomit, nevertheless it had to be. Setting aside such jocular suggestions as castration and cauterization, he decided upon insecticide, and being too shy to walk into a chemist and demand blue ointment he performed the purification with Mortein plus. It is one hundred per cent effective, but has the one disadvantage that it removes anything up to about three layers of skin along with the parasites. So much for the first time. On the second occasion that he found himself infected he was more than a little annoyed.
‘She sure seems to be the careless type,’ said the bosun. ‘Don’t you find it a bit off putting?’
Brownie did, and the next time that he and Jan took to bed he pleaded alcohol and went to sleep. When he woke up he dressed straight away, took his shoes under his arm and sneaked out. Apparently Jan never forgave the slight to her professional pride, for when he was back in Brisbane a couple of months later she came down to the ship all friendliness and relatively spruce looking: ‘If Brownie would give her a couple of quid for a drink,’ she said, ‘and a quid for the hotel room, she would fix everything and meet him at the dock gates that evening.’
Brownie, on whom the celibate life had been weighing heavily, gave her the money and that was the last he saw of her for many a long day. From then on he ignored women till they became a matter of utmost physical necessity, and all the time he kept on looking for Lola.
*
He found her at last in Melbourne on a wet August day about twelve months after he went to sea. It was pay-day and he was in the ‘Havana’ wine lounge getting drunk. It was his practice to get drunk on payday; and as he had a grown man’s capacity and a deck boy’s pay, he drank wine, which was cheaper and quicker. And then he saw her. The ‘Havana’ was in a basement and Lola came down the stairs with a big, wide-shouldered girl whose hair was dyed an unfortunate shade of red, and they sat at a table near the wall and ordered a bottle of dry sherry.
Coming in they had not seen Brownie, who was in a corner by the bar, and now they sat with their backs to him. Brownie’s first reaction was that it could not be Lola. She looked terrible; half starved and sick and grubby and wretched, and she had blonded her hair, which did not suit her, and it was going black along the parting.
‘God,’ he thought, as he made his way between the tables, ‘what have they done to her?’
Now he was standing behind her and he put his hand on her shoulder and said:
‘Do you mind if I join you girls?’
She turned and looked into his face, and immediately she stood up and he took her in his arms. She was weeping and laughing and exclaiming all at once:
‘Oh, God, Brownie, it can’t be you, it can’t be you. Oh, Brownie, Brownie, darling.’ And
Similar Books
