The Jacaranda House, page 32
David said, ‘Because Polly stole some heroin off Adler and hasn’t paid him back yet.’
‘Oh, yeah, I heard something about that.’
‘Though we did try,’ Star said. ‘We got the money together but we were mugged. Nearly five hundred quid gone, just like that. Bloody nightmare.’
‘And Polly didn’t steal all the heroin that went missing,’ Rhoda added. ‘Someone else at your club’s got light fingers.’
‘Don’t look at me,’ Tony said.
‘I wasn’t.’
Tony said, ‘Well, who is it, then?’
‘Terry Lawson.’
‘Terry Lawson?’ Tony frowned. ‘Who’s that?’
‘He works out of the Alibi Room,’ David said. ‘Curly blond hair, quite young, bit of a smartarse. He’s one of the male prostitutes.’
‘Oh, him. Really? Adler’ll skin him alive.’
‘Maybe,’ David said. ‘Anyway, we’re off. Oh, we broke a window in the kitchen.’
Tony said, ‘Bloody hell. How am I going to explain that?’
‘Actually, how are you going to explain Gina being gone?’ Star said.
Tony looked really worried now. ‘Shit, that’s a point.’
David rolled his eyes. ‘You tell Adler the truth, more or less. You had to go out for ten minutes for something essential like smokes and when you came back the window was broken and Gina had gone. That’s all you know, OK?’
‘And you tell Adler everyone knows Terry stole some of that heroin, all right?’ Rhoda said. ‘It’s not fair Pol’s getting the blame for all of it.’
Star looked at Gina, who was watching the conversation the way you’d watch a tennis match. ‘You ready to go home?’
‘Definitely. See ya, Tony. Don’t forget you owe me two pounds twenty.’
‘What for?’ Star asked.
‘My poker winnings.’
Chapter Seventeen
Auckland, New Zealand
Sonny had just opened a beer and sat down in the sitting room when the phone rang. Grumbling to himself because he knew Allie was in the bath, he went out into the hall to answer it.
‘Sonny Manaia.’
‘Hello, this is the operator. Will you accept a collect call from Sydney, Australia?’
‘Yes.’
‘Thank you. Go ahead.’
‘Hello, Sonny Manaia.’
‘Hello, is that Sonny, Polly’s brother?’ a woman’s voice asked.
Sonny immediately felt on edge. ‘Yes?’
‘This is Evie Palmer, Polly’s friend? I’m ringing from Sydney.’
‘Hi, Evie. Is Polly all right? Is Gina?’
‘Gina’s fine but Polly isn’t, not really.’
‘What’s happened?’
Evie said, ‘Look, I’ll be blunt. It’s the drug thing.’
The drug thing? ‘What do you mean?’
‘You did know about her drug use?’
‘Well, sort of, but I thought she had it under control.’
‘Well, it isn’t under control now. She’s moved on to heroin.’
Sonny experienced a deeply unpleasant jolt of adrenaline. ‘Heroin? But that’s for serious drug addicts.’
‘Yes, it is, because that’s what she is. She needs help. You need to come over and get her, Sonny. She and Gina need to come home. Polly won’t get better here. The Cross is a bad place for someone in the state she’s in.’
Sonny felt a bit weak-kneed and wanted to sit down but the girls had buggered off with the telephone stool, as usual. So he squatted, his back against the wall. ‘But I was only over there in July.’
‘It doesn’t take long to get hooked, you know.’
‘Bloody hell.’
‘Exactly.’
‘Has she got any money?’ Sonny asked.
‘No, and that’s another thing. She owes her boss quite a lot. There’s been a bit of drama around that.’
‘What sort of drama?’
There was a short silence. Then Evie said, ‘We’ll tell you about that when you get here.’
‘I’d rather you told me now.’
‘No.’
Sonny could tell by the tone of Evie’s voice that he could ask as much as he liked but she wasn’t going to reveal anything more.
‘So you’ll come?’ she asked.
‘Yes, but it might take me a couple of days depending on work and when I can get on a plane. Will you tell Polly I’m on my way?’
‘Mmm, maybe not.’
That sounded ominous. ‘Doesn’t she know you’ve contacted me?’
‘Not exactly.’ A pause. ‘No, actually.’
‘Have you talked to her about moving back?’
‘No. I thought you could have that conversation. But I’ll help and I know the girls will. They’re worried sick about her. The poor things, they’ve been dragged right into the middle of all this.’
‘Star and Rhoda?’
‘Mmm.’
‘How much does she owe her boss?’
‘A fair bit and that’s all I’m saying.’
‘Look, I need to know so I can bring some money with me.’
‘Oh. OK. Just under five hundred pounds.’
Sonny nearly died. Christ. Allie wasn’t going to be happy about that. ‘How did this happen? Is it to do with drugs? Or did she steal it?’
‘A bit of both,’ Evie said. ‘Look, it really is best if we tell you everything when you get here. It’s a bit complicated for the phone.’
Sonny sighed and for a moment felt like crying. ‘OK. Well, expect me in a few days. Thanks for ringing, Evie. I really appreciate it. You’re a good friend.’
‘My pleasure, Sonny. See you when you get here. Safe travels.’
*
When Sonny told Allie about Evie’s call he told her to keep it to herself, but she didn’t. The next day she told her mother, Colleen, who immediately told her neighbour, Ana Leonard, who went to work at Mana Knits and was talking about it to Kura Apanui when Awhi overheard. That evening Awhi went round to Sonny and Allie’s – in a taxi, which she only ever used in dire emergencies – and demanded to know what was going on.
Sonny heaved out a sigh and refrained from looking at Allie, who’d turned her back and was banging dishes around in the sink. ‘How did you find out?’
‘Never you mind. Why didn’t you tell me?’
‘Because I knew you’d get upset.’
‘You’re damned right I’m upset! My moko’s in danger and no one tells me?’
This was strong language from Awhi.
‘No one’s said anything about Gina being in danger,’ Sonny said. ‘Just that Polly needs help.’
‘If that witch has messed up, then my moko needs me.’
‘Well, Polly needs me so I’m going over there in a day or so.’
Awhi said, ‘I’m coming too.’
At the sink Allie turned around and stared at her. ‘He’s flying over. On a plane.’
‘I don’t care!’ Awhi jammed her hands on her hips. ‘We’re going and we’re bringing Gina back. I don’t care what it takes!’
‘Last time I went you said you couldn’t possibly fly,’ Sonny said. ‘You said you’re too old and you’d be too frightened.’
‘I said I’m an old lady,’ Awhi corrected. ‘I didn’t say I was too old. And I don’t care if I’m frightened, I’m going.’
‘It’s hours and hours in the air.’
‘I don’t care.’
Sonny decided to call her bluff. He was angry with her. If she hadn’t been so constantly bitchy to Polly they might not have become estranged and she might not have run away to Australia all those years back. This whole horrible situation might not have happened. But, knowing Polly, it possibly would have anyway. However, his mother certainly hadn’t helped. It might bring her to her senses to see Polly at her most desperate, and even lead to some sort of reconciliation. Awhi wasn’t a naturally cold-hearted woman: she was just unreasonable when it came to Polly.
‘All right then, you can come. I’ll buy you a ticket in the morning, if I can. It might be too late because I’m going the day after tomorrow. Pack a bag but don’t pack too much – it’s only Australia, not Mars. We’ll only be there a few days and they have shops in Sydney if you forget something.’
‘But we will be bringing Gina back?’ Awhi said.
‘I think we’ll be bringing them both back.’
‘I’m not having that witch in my house! Gina’s welcome, but not the other one.’
Sonny pointed a finger at his mother. ‘Look. I’m only going to say this once. I’m letting you come because I think you need to see what’s going on, and I know you’re good with Gina. But if you say or do anything to make things worse I’ll . . .’ What would he do? ‘I’ll be really disappointed in you, Mum. This isn’t the time to be petty or bitchy. This concerns family and Polly needs our help. And I don’t want to hear about it all the way over, all right?’
‘Don’t you call me that word!’
‘Will you just listen! This isn’t about you! This is about Polly and Gina. So please, will you promise to behave?’
Awhi said, ‘It’s a sad state of affairs when a son thinks he’s got the right to tell his mother to behave.’
‘It’s a sad state of affairs when he has to,’ Sonny said. ‘So, are we agreed?’
Awhi sniffed disdainfully. ‘I suppose so.’
*
Polly had never felt such relief in her life as when she woke up to discover Gina had been found and was home. On the other hand, she’d never felt such shame at her own gutless behaviour. What mother would choose drugs over saving her daughter? Only her, she was sure. She’d tried to apologise to Gina, and her dear, lovely daughter had said she understood, but Polly knew she was only being kind. Typical Gina, always thinking of other people first, which had only made her feel worse. Not even the girls or Evie had told her off, and that had left her raging at herself and feeling useless and hopeless while the others talked about the rescue. It all just made her want to . . . smoke more heroin.
And David. David had been a hero. Gina wouldn’t stop going on about him – how he broke the window and climbed in and rescued her. She wanted to make smart comments about his white horse and his shining armour but knew if she did she’d only upset people, but she was . . . jealous. Yes, she was jealous. Gina was her daughter and she should have been the one to rescue her. And then she thought about that and realised all over again that if she hadn’t been so stupid, Gina wouldn’t have needed to be rescued, and another layer of shitty feelings landed on top of her. She was drowning in them.
But she’d been so happy to have Gina back. The moment she’d seen her she’d vowed never to use heroin again, but of course she had, about six hours later. And now she was on the couch, drinking tea and feeling like shit, talking to Emmeline. She suspected the girls had phoned her as she didn’t usually come round during the day, but there she was. Gina was home, too, because Polly was too scared to let her go to school in case Adler took her again. She was in the kitchen with Star, baking.
Rhoda had just finished telling Emmeline how they hadn’t been able to perform at Les Girls for a few nights because of Star’s fat lip, and of course about the famous rescue, which Polly noted was getting more hair-raising and dangerous with every retelling.
‘That was very brave of you and Star,’ Emmeline said.
‘Well, we had David with us. And, you know, we know how to look after ourselves.’
Then how did you end up getting mugged the other night? Polly thought.
‘You must be so grateful to the girls and to David,’ Emmeline said.
‘I am,’ Polly replied. She felt dopey and mentally disjointed but even so she thought there was a slight edge to Emmeline’s voice. Was there, or was she being paranoid? ‘Really grateful.’
‘You do realise, dear, that this situation cannot be allowed to continue?’ Emmeline said. ‘Particularly not now that Gina’s safety has been directly compromised.’
‘Yes!’ Polly snapped. ‘Yes, I do realise that.’ Honestly, Emmeline must think she was completely thick.
‘So what do you propose to do about it?’
‘I don’t know! I’ll just have to get the money, but, really, I can’t think where from. I can’t think about anything.’
‘I’m afraid you’ll have to,’ Emmeline said. ‘This is your doing, Polly. Your behaviour and your actions have led to this situation, and you are therefore responsible for finding an appropriate solution.’
‘I know that! Bloody going on about it and blaming me isn’t going to help!’
‘Polly, dear, I am not “blaming” you. Blame and taking responsibility are two very different things and there is no place for blame in circumstances such as these. You are not well. You have succumbed to drug dependence and all that entails. That is not your fault, but it is your responsibility to remedy.’
‘Well, I can’t!’
‘You can,’ Emmeline said, ‘because I have a plan.’
Polly said nothing. She was tired of bloody plans: all she wanted was for everything to just go away.
‘Well, what is it?’ Rhoda said.
Emmeline looked at Polly. ‘Are you interested in hearing what I have to say?’
No. ‘Yes.’
‘I’m willing to give you the money you owe this Adler fellow.’
Polly sighed. ‘That’s kind of you, but no, thank you. I can’t pay you back. I already owe the girls and Evie and David.’
‘No, you misunderstand,’ Emmeline said. ‘I’m willing to give you the money, as a gift to you and Gina. There will be no requirement to repay it.’
Polly stared at her. ‘Why?’
‘Because, as I said, this is not your fault, you are not well. I have become very fond of you and Gina over the past months and it pains me to see you in such dire straits. It would bring me great pleasure to be able to help you. Also, I have far more money than I need.’
Polly put her hands over her face in an effort to stop the tears but they came anyway. Rhoda brought the tissues over and she sobbed her way through several handfuls, then got herself under control.
‘Thank you,’ she managed finally. ‘From me and Gina.’
‘Good,’ Emmeline said. ‘That’s settled, although I do have one or two conditions.’
Here it comes, Polly thought. I have to give up the heroin.
‘Firstly, I’d like to personally deliver the money to this Adler fellow,’ Emmeline said, ‘though I may have Evie accompany me. And secondly, did you say earlier, Rhoda, that you took photographs when you rescued Gina?’
Rhoda nodded. ‘To prove she’d been in his house. For insurance.’
‘By insurance do you mean blackmail?’
‘Er, yes, actually.’
‘Lovely!’ Emmeline said. ‘I’d like those photographs, please.’
Rhoda pulled a face. ‘Small problem. They’re still in my camera.’
‘You haven’t taken them to be developed?’
‘No.’
‘That is a problem,’ Emmeline said. ‘I was planning to visit Mr Adler tomorrow. I’d like to have this whole matter rectified as soon as possible so Gina can get back to school.’
‘But it takes a week to get photographs developed, at least,’ Rhoda said. ‘God, I wish I’d known.’
Star had come out of the kitchen, her apron covered in flour and cocoa, and was standing by the couch behind Polly, listening.
She said, ‘Doesn’t Evie know someone who does photography? That bloke who runs his own business?’
‘Don’t be daft,’ Rhoda said. ‘He does the mucky pictures for the strip clubs, and worse. You don’t take your holiday pics from the Gold Coast to him to be developed.’
‘No, but he’d have all the gear. He’d do a rush job if you paid him, I bet.’
‘Surely Evie isn’t professionally involved with a pornographer?’ Emmeline said.
‘Nah, she just knows everyone,’ Star replied, one eyebrow going up. ‘I think. I’ll just whip down and give her a ring.’
The flat smelt pleasantly of fresh baking by the time she got back and Rhoda had been told off by Gina for trying to pinch a biscuit off the tray while they were too hot.
‘Any luck?’ Emmeline asked.
‘She gave me his name and number but said she doesn’t know what hours he works.’ Star said. ‘But she reckons he develops all sorts of photos as long as you pay him. He can do it on the spot if you don’t mind waiting for a while. Hours, most likely.’
‘Shall we give him a ring and see if we can take him the film tonight?’ Rhoda said. ‘Whereabouts is he?’
‘Roslyn Street.’
‘Oh good, that’s not far.’
‘I’ll do that,’ Polly said, desperate to do something towards making amends. ‘And I’ll pick them up when they’re ready. I think I can do that without stuffing it up.’
*
Polly stepped into the dark little alcove next to the fish and chip shop on Roslyn Street. There was a small sign saying, Roy Hadley: Artistic Photography, Developing Services on the wall above an intercom unit, but that was about it – except for the food wrappers and empty drink bottles abandoned on the ground. The doorway smelt of piss.
She pressed the button on the intercom.
After a minute a voice crackled out of the unit. ‘Roy here. Who is it?’
‘Polly Manaia? I rang you earlier?’
‘Oh, right. I’m in the dark room. Can you wait a few minutes and I’ll buzz you in?’
‘OK.’
Polly lit a cigarette and watched as cars went by on the street. When the intercom eventually buzzed and the door clicked she pushed it open and went inside. There was nowhere to go but up a steep set of stairs, the dark wood worn smooth with age. At the top was another door. She knocked and someone called, ‘Come in!’
The door opened onto a large room, lit by hanging bulbs guarded by large metal shades. A long row of windows was set into one wall, though at the moment these looked out onto the night. In the centre of the room, facing the windows, a heavy white sheet had been suspended as a backdrop, accompanied by tripods and lights on stands, the latter currently switched off. Surrounding the backdrop was a wide variety of items – assorted chairs, a bed, a bath, exercise equipment, a rocking horse, a rack of clothing, pot plants, etc. – appearing as though randomly collected for a garage sale. The air was faintly redolent of cooking fat from downstairs. The overall effect was one of a badly disorganised junk shop.
