The Lady in Red

This story is not written by me . It is written by my late mother Heather Corbett. After her death my brother and I went through her things and discovered a life that we knew nothing about. She had done a creative writing course many years ago and we found some of her stories. This one is particularly good.

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The eviction notice was the catalyst for all Rosa’s woes. Down to her last $100, a few tatty clothes, hair in need of a touch-up and just one nip of whisky left. You’re in a corner, Rosa, it’s time to act she thought to herself, and quickly. She heaved herself out of bed, took a cigarette from the nearly depleted box, pushed her feet into slippers and went for her morning paper.

“Help wanted to run a fruit shop in far western town. No experience needed. Show up as soon as possible in Thorny Gully if interested” was the first ad to catch Rosa’s eye as she scanned the positions vacant. Never heard of Thorny Gully but here goes. No time to think.

“When does the next train leave for Thorny Gully?” Rosa asked the sleepy ticket attendant.

“Four-thirty this afternoon Madam. We reckon it’s kinder traveling all night so you don’t see what you’re going into.”

“Thorny Gully, know it?” Rosa asked cautiously.

“Yeah, put it this way, it ain’t New York” replied the attendant with a snigger.

Rosa grabbed her largest suitcase. The faded labels were testament to better days – Singapore, London, New York. No time for reminiscing. She selected a few cotton dresses, two pairs of comfortable shoes, underwear and toiletries. She looked at her few remaining evening dresses. Won’t need these, that’s for sure. On an impulse she held the red slinky model against her, twirled around the room and looked at herself approvingly. As an afterthought she retrieved a well-worn pair of silver sandals from the throw-out bag and put them in the case with the red dress.

She glanced quickly around the room. An old feathered mask caught her eye on top of the wardrobe. She blew the dust off, hesitated, and threw it into the bag. The silver framed photo on the dressing table she rubbed clean on the hem of her dress and rolled it in the red dress.

The rest of her belongings went into a few old shopping bags ready for the opportunity shop. The fridge contents were put into a box for her old neighbour. Rosa showered, dressed and quickly poured herself the last scotch. Go girl before you change your mind.

“Single to Thorny Gully, please” asked Rosa, avoiding eye contact with the attendant.

“You’re sure about that Madam, might be sorry you didn’t make it a return” the attendant yawned. Rosa sighed and gave half a smile.

People were gathering in groups on the station. She wondered how many would stay on till Thorny Gully, the end of the line. The train sauntered into the station but there was no rush for seats.

Rosa put her suitcase on the rack, took up a position near the window and looked around. She was glad of the company but wanted to avoid conversation.

Lying back Rosa closed her eyes and let herself go with the train as it gathered speed through the outer suburbs. She had never been a country girl. Dancing had been her life.

 

She had once considered settling down.  Matthew what’shisname was in town for the annual show. She had admired his rugged looks and country innocence. They had danced at the Show Ball and she had enjoyed showing him the city lights. He had plans for getting a property together, couldn’t stand too much of the city life. He would contact Rosa when he could see where he was going.

Her dance troupe was becoming popular at the city night spots. She could still hear smooth talking Harry Le Torneau saying, “You got the best pins in the business, Rosa. Don’t waste them on some God forsaken property in the sticks.”

Flattered she agreed to tour with Harry’s dance troupe. The money was good, life was exciting and there was some security with Harry. They were popular, and she often danced on the London stage. There were always plenty of escorts for a pretty girl.

Sometimes in lonely airports she would wonder what happened to Matthew. Did he ever get his property? Was he looking for her at the last show. But then she would be off to her next assignment.

 

The train was now flying through the night. The blackness was occasionally interrupted by a flash of light from a country platform. These were becoming less frequent and Rosa half slept and waited for morning. Suddenly the train gave a lurch and she heard the guard calling out as he walked through.

“Cup of tea. Last one before Thorny Gully. Expect to be there by 7 am.”

 

She roused herself and was thankful for the strong warm brew.

The morning light revealed a sparse barren countryside. There was just the odd tree or clump of spinifex on the expanse of red sandy earth. Occasionally a rusted tin shed, long since abandoned, broke the monotony.

 

Thorny Gully had never seen such activity. Matt Martin had taken over the Thorny Gully pub – better known as The Gully – a few months before and was in the showground hall at night determined to inject some life into the town. The old racecourse had been cleared for the Thorny Gully Cup, followed by a masked ball.

Matt had gone over to Sandy Flats to collect his horses. He had put up good prize money for the main race and entries were coming in from outlying stations.

 

“I reckon some of the sheilas here will look a damn sight better in a mask,” said Joe Baloney to the first customer in his fruit shop for the day.

“Won’t know who the hell I’m dancing with.”

“Better watch who you put the hard word on Joe,” said his offsider with a chuckle.

“Look what turned up on the morning train Joe, must have heard about the masked ball,”

 

Rosa put her suitcase down for a minute to cast her eyes over the town. There was no getting out of this place for a week so she would have to make the most of it. The sign roughly printed outside Joe Baloney’s fruit shop invited all to the Thorny Gully Cup and the masked ball – this weekend.

“Joe Baloney?”

“That’s me Madam, the one and only.”

“Rosa Benson, I’ve come about the job in your fruit shop.”

“Have you now, “ said Joe casting his eyes up and down.

“Where are you from?”

“I’m a city girl.”

“Really I was looking for someone younger.”

“ They all are Joe , “ sighed Rosa. “What does the job involve?”

“Keeping customers happy Rosa. There’s quite a bit of packing for the station orders. I do the heavy lifting of course. Couldn’t have a lady doing that. I need someone to generally run the shop as I have a few other interests. By the way where are you going to stay in Thorny Gully? You’ll be right out of luck at the pub. Everyone is coming into town for the races. Tell you what, I could put you up at my place.”

“Thanks Joe. I’ll try the pub and come back later.”

“Suit yourself. Like I said, I couldn’t see a lady stuck for a bed.”

 

Rosa knocked on the door of the Thorny Gully hotel in vain. Weariness was consuming her and she desperately wanted to sleep. A wiry character poked his head round the side of the verandah.

“No-one home at the moment, lady. The boss is over at Sandy Flats and the cook went walkabout at the thought of extra catering. I’m trying to knock up some food.”

“Any chance of a bed?” Asked Rosa hopefully. “I arrived on the morning train, looking for a job.”

“There’s the cook’s room. Nothing flash. We won’t see her again til the weekend’s over. Can you cook?”

“I could do anything after a few hours sleep.” Rosa was oblivious to the décor. She fell on the crumpled bed and knew nothing for five hours.

Hunger was paramount in her mind as she stretched and looked around the room. Drab described the scene from the fly speckled ceiling to the dust laden curtains. If there’s a hard way to earn a quid, Rosa Benson, you’ll find it, she thought. She found the bathroom along the verandah, fell under the hot shower and followed the smell of food to the kitchen.

 

“Rosa Benson”

“Call me Spike. There’s a full house in the dining room tonight and I’m trying to make this God Almighty stew. Bunyip casserole we call it. Spike produced some roughly made corned beef sandwiches and a pot of tea.

“I guess you could do with this.”

“Thanks Spike.” Said Rosa gratefully. “That hit the spot.”

“Where’re you from, Rosa”?

“ The big smoke, Spike, the big smoke. Guess I’m saddled with this place till the next train back.”

“Pity to miss the masked ball. I reckon everyone in the district will be there.”

 

The tempo of Thorny Gully had never been so fast. A great day was had at the Gully Cup and a boisterous crowd was arriving back at the pub for a meal before the ball. Matt Martin was busy in the bar before playing host in the dining room. The place was packed.

“What’s happened to the cook, you can actually eat this stew.” Said Matt to his rowd[1]y table.

“Not the cook Boss, it’s the Rose of Tralee in the kitchen.” Said Spike as he dished out hearty helpings to the customers.

 

Rosa could hear the raucous laughter in the dining room and wished she was there. Spike bounced into the kitchen in high spirits. “Must get ready for the Ball, Rosa. Won’t change your mind?”

“I’ll think about it.”

She went up to the room, pulled a few clothes out of her suitcase, put the photo on the dressing table beside her toiletries and fell on the bed. She was woken from her reverie by a soft knock. Startled she said,

“Who are you?”

“I’m the cook. Thought the boss would want me back. You here for the Ball Mrs?”

“No. I was looking for a job at Joe’s.”

“You better give him a miss.”

“Come in,: said Rosa as Alice looked around the room. Her eyes fixed on the photo on the dressing table.

“You know the Boss, Mrs?”

“Don’t think so, haven’t sighted him yet,” said Rosa.

“The photo Mrs, that’s him.”

Rosa was stunned.

“Yeah Mrs. That’s Matt Martin.”

It all came back. Matthew – Martin that was his name.

“You staying long Mrs?”

“I’m catching the train back next week,”

“You stay here Mrs, I’ll sleep on the verandah.”

 

Rosa could hear the music from the Ball through the open window. She reached for her red dress, piled her hair on top and slipped on her sandals, and then without hesitation pulled on her feather mask to complete the picture.

 

She pushed her way through the crush of locals at the door just as the dance was announced for the unmasking.

“Ladies and gentlemen, our popular publican, Matt Martin will have first choice of partner to lead the dance.”

As Rosa reached inside the hall al eyes focussed on the newcomer.

“I’ll take the lady in red.” Said Matt as he confidently walked over to Rosa and swung her into a waltz. Rosa and Matt were quite a spectacle on the floor and the other dancers were reluctant to join in. They had never seen such stylish dancing in Thorny Gully and for a few minutes wee content for them to have the floor.

Joe Baloney walked past with a late model blonde firmly in his grasp. There was a drum roll and masks were removed. Matt was stunned to see Rosa’s smiling face. They danced til dawn.

 

Next time you’re out Thorny Gully way, do stay at the Gully. Hosts Matt and Rosa will be glad to welcome you. Better still make it on the race weekend. The dining room is great and on Saturday nights you can see a great floor show, a first for the town.