Chapter Five
I
When I walked into the lunch room at six forty-five the next morning, Lola,
clad only in a yellow halter and a pair of scarlet shorts, was scrubbing down
the counter.
In that getup, she looked really something. The combination of her red hair,
her green eyes and that creamy skin that goes with that colouring, plus her
shape the halter and shorts scarcely concealed, had me staring.
She paused in her work to look sulkily at me, then continued | to scrub.
“Good morning, Mrs. Jenson,” I said. “Can I do that for you?”
Again she paused, her green eyes hostile.
“When I want you to do anything for me I’ll tell you,” she snapped.
“Why, sure,” I said. “I didn’t mean any offence.”
“If you want breakfast, get it in the kitchen.”
She bent over the counter, using the scrub brush. I could see the deep hollow
between her bre@sts.
She looked up.
“What are you staring at?”
“I didn’t know I was staring,” I lied, and moved around the counter and into the kitchen.
Jenson was sitting at the table. There was a pile of money in bills and small
change in front of him. By his side was a cup of coffee, a used plate and a
knife and fork. He looked up, nodding at me.
“Come on in, Jack. Do you want ham and eggs?”
“Just coffee,” I said, and went over to the pot standing on the hot plate.
“As soon as we’ve cleared up, Lola and me are going into Wentworth,” he
said. “We’ve had the best day for years here. Those fifteen dinners put us
right in front. You keep that up, Jack, and I’ll be retiring. Just to make it
interesting for you, I’m going to give you five per cent on all the restaurant
checks. How’s that?”
“Why, that’s fine, Mr. Jenson. Thanks.”
“When I’m in Wentworth, I’ll get you an overall to work in. Is there anything
else you want?”
“I need some clothes, but I guess I’d better get them myself.”
“Yeah. You can take the car to Wentworth tomorrow and fit yourself out. I’ll
give you an advance on your restaurant cut. How about a hundred bucks?”
“That would do fine. Thanks a lot.”
He pushed five twenties over to me.
“So tomorrow you go to Wentworth.” He leaned back in his chair. “Do you
think you could do something with that rotary cultivator? I bought it for
scrap, but I have an idea it would still work with a little persuasion.”
‘“I’ll take a look at it.”
“We’ll be off in an hour, but we’ll be back by midday. Do you think you can
handle it on your own?”
“I don’t see why not.”
I washed out the coffee cup, then lighting a cigarette, I went into the lunch
room.
Lola was putting pies in the glass case and arranging the labels on them. Her
back was to me. I paused for a moment, feeling the blood move through me
at the sight of her square shoulders, her narrow waist and her heavy h!ps. She
must have known I was staring at her, but she didn’t look around.
I went out into the pale sunshine, and taking a broom, I swept up around the
gas pumps.
A couple of trucks pulled in for gas. I tried to persuade the truckers to have
breakfast but they were in a hurry.
When I was through cleaning up, I went into the shed and inspected the
rotary cultivator. On a shelf I found a tin of rust remover and I got to work.
An hour later, Jenson came in.
“We’re off now, Jack. Sure you can manage?”
“You bet, Mr. Jenson.”
“How’s it coming?”
“It wants working on, but it’ll be okay.”
He rested his heavy hand on my shoulder as he looked at the machine.
“You get the rust off. I’ll fix it. See you around midday.”
I moved with him to the shed door.
Lola was coming out of the bungalow. She looked smart in a green linen
dress. It was a little tight across her chest. Her bust line was something that is
now accepted as standard these days, but I wasn’t movie trained. Her bust line made me stare.
Jenson gave me a poke in the ribs.
“She looks a real lady, doesn’t she? Plenty of style, huh?”
“You’re right.”
“Yeah, plenty of style. Well, I’ll be seeing you.”
I watched them drive off in a cloud of dust.
I lit a cigarette and stood looking around. I told myself this was just the kind
of place I would like to own. The thought dropped into my mind that Lola
was the woman I would like to share it with. I went back to the shed and
continued to work on the cultivator. I kept thinking of her in the halter and
shorts, and the picture I had of her in my mind made concentration difficulty.
I had been working on the cultivator for an hour or so when a car pulled up
right outside the shed in which I was working.
It was an old, dusty Chevrolet. A tall, lean man in his middle forties got out
of the car, followed by a thin, yellow dog of no particular breed that moved
close to the man’s heels, it’s big, bloodshot shot eyes mournful.
The man wore a pair of faded blue overalls, patched at the knees. Around his
scraggy neck was a greasy red handkerchief knotted at his throat. At the back
of his head he wore a high crowned straw hat, burned yellow by the sun.
His face, the colour of teak, was thin and fiddle shaped. He had a long thin
nose and thin hips. His eyes, under greying bushy eyebrows, were steady and
piercing.
There was something about him I didn’t like. He made me think of a cop.
Those eyes were prying, suspicious and distrusting.
We looked at each other for a long moment, then I straighten up.
“Something I can do for you?” I said. I had to make a conscious effort to
meet those prying eyes.
He leaned against the shed door, his thumbs hooked in the arm straps of his
overalls. The dog sat by him, staring fixedly at me.
“Maybe,” he said. “Maybe you can tell me who you are and what you are
doing here. Maybe you can tell me where Carl Jensen is. Maybe you can tell
me to mind my own business.”
“Mr. Jenson is in Wentworth with Mrs. Jenson,” I said. “I’m Jack Patmore,
the new hand.”
“Is that a fact?” He shifted his position. “You mean, Carl has hired you to
help out?”
“That’s right.”
“Well, well. I never thought he would do it.” He shook his head. All the time
his hard little eyes were running over me, taking in my stained, crumpled
trousers, my dirty shirt and my scuffed shoes. “Never thought he’d take on
help, specially when that wife of his is so set against it.” He scratched the
side of his face, continuing to shake his head. “I’m his brother-in-law. Ricks
is the name—George Ricks.”
I guessed he wouldn’t be Lola’s brother. He must be the late Mrs. Jenson’s
brother.
So I didn’t have to go on meeting those suspicious little eyes, I squatted down
beside the rotary cultivator, my back to him.
“You said his wife went with him to Wentworth?” Ricks asked.
“Yes.”
“So you’re alone here?”
“That’s right.”
I heard him move forward, and he began to breathe down the back of my
neck as I worked on the gearbox.
“I bet Carl bought that as scrap. I bet he got it for a song. Wouldn’t surprise
me to hear someone paid him to take it away.”
I didn’t say anything. This man was beginning to get on my nerves.
“Carl’s a smart cookie all right,” Ricks went on. “He’ll look at a lump of
rusty iron and see profit in it whereas another guy would just see rusty iron. I
bet he’ll get that cultivator working again and make a big profit out of it.
Yeah, he’s smart when it comes to metal, but he’s plain dumb when it comes
to people.”
I made a grunting noise as I got the gear cogs out. I put them in a petrol bath.
“What do you think of that wife of his?”
I was glad I was bending over the machine so he couldn’t see my face. I
wasn’t expecting that one. It jolted me.
“She’s all right,” I said.
I reached for a screw driver and began to dismantle the clutch plates.
“All right? Is that what you think? I bet she doesn’t want you here. She
doesn’t want anyone here. She doesn’t want me here: her husband’s brother-
in-law. Never thought Carl would be such an old fool as to marry a tramp like
her.
She walked in here one day from nowhere and going nowhere. She’s smart all right. She saw her chance and grabbed it. All she had to do was to
wave her s*x and her body in front of him, and the dope fell for it. You watch
out. Don’t kid yourself you’ll stay here long because you won’t. She’ll talk
Carl into getting rid of you. Know why?”
By now I had fixed a dumb look on my face. I turned to stare at him.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said. “I’m just the hired help around here.”
He grinned at me, showing big yellow teeth.
“That’s right, you told me.” He settled himself against the shed door. “She’s
scared someone will put the bite on Carl. She’s after his money. I know. I’ve
watched her. You haven’t been around here long enough to get wise to her
little tricks. She’s after his money: that’s all she thinks about He’s been
salting money away for years. He has always been a careful man, never
spends a dime, although he’s generous when he gets the chance, but with that
tramp around, watching every move, he doesn’t get a chance.
Before she came I was welcomed here. There was always a meal here for me, but not
now. She sulks when I come. Do you know what happens? She locks her
bedroom door. When you’re an old fool like Carl, getting on in years, every
day counts, and it upset him if he can’t get into the sack with her. That’s how
she put the sc.rews on him. If he does anything she doesn’t like, the bedroom
door gets locked. You watch out. You won’t last long. I know her. She’ll
imagine you are after her money.”
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