Wind in the Wires by Joy Dettman Page A

achieved nothing. Elsie attempted to explain how Margot had denied her pregnancy from day one, how she’d refused to marry her baby’s father; Jenny told him Margot believed she’d let the air out of her stomach with the vegetable knife, and by the look on the doctor’s face, if they hadn’t got out of that place fast, he might have locked them in too.
    Harry had left his car in Bendigo and come the rest of the way by train. With time to fill, the two couples ended up in a city car yard, where the men discussed the merits of V8s, and Jim’s attempt to drive Nobby’s Holden.
    ‘Young Ted is a genius with cars. He’d work out a way for you to get around the clutch,’ Harry said. ‘You used to drive too, didn’t you, Jen?’
    ‘When I was fifteen. I didn’t know what I was doing then and I’d know less now.’
    ‘Get yourself a few lessons. Young Georgie has taken to it like a duck to water.’
    ‘She seems fond of Jack,’ Elsie said. ‘We don’t see a lot of her lately.’
    The Halls boarded their train to Bendigo. Jen and Jim booked into a hotel for the night and on hotel paper, he wrote to Margaret.
    Dear Maggie,
    I ran into Harry Hall today . . .
    In his youth he’d got on well with the younger of his two sisters, and seeing Harry had taken him back to those years of poker nights in Gertrude’s kitchen, of dances, and balls with Maggie and Sissy. On Jenny’s advice, he didn’t mention her name.
    Since ’56 I’ve been working in the office of a timber yard . . . You’ve no doubt twigged as to why I’m writing to you. I want to see Jimmy . . .
    They sealed his page into two envelopes, wrote Margaret Hooper on the inner envelope, addressed the outer envelope to Vern’s accountant and posted it that night.
    Then waited.
    *
    Margot spent six weeks in the psychiatric ward before those trained to deal with problems of the mind tossed their hands in the air and released her into her mother’s care.
    Jenny hadn’t wanted her as a baby and didn’t want her now. Vroni picked her up and installed her in the isolation room, and with her in there, Jenny needed Jim. He came on Friday night after work and slept in the kitchen on Margot’s bed. Raelene shared Jenny’s, but the Keatings picked her up on Saturday morning.
    On Sunday, at noon, when Jack Thompson, Georgie and Elsie arrived to take Margot home, Elsie said that dirty word. ‘We popped in to see your baby on the way through, love. The nurses say she’s doing really good.’
    If Margot was sane, Jenny would eat her hat. She threw a screamer. Elsie pandered, petted. Jenny walked away.
    ‘Walk away from her, Elsie,’ Georgie said, taking Elsie’s arm. ‘Start treating her like an adult and she might start acting like one.’
    She sounded like Gertrude, so much like her, a ghost walked over Jim’s grave. He followed Jenny outside, and Jack followed him.
    ‘Your father’s house is becoming the louts’ hangout,’ Jack said. ‘There was a For Sale sign up until a week or so back. Do you know if it’s been sold, Jim?’
    ‘I’m not in touch with my family,’ Jim said.
    He knew his mother had left the bulk of her money to him, and the house. He knew too that he’d signed Lorna’s papers blindly. Maybe it was time to find out what they’d done with his money – and house.
    When they got rid of that lisping, bawling lump of a girl, he spoke to Jenny about Vern’s house.
    ‘It wasn’t a part of Pop’s estate. Mum’s first husband built it, back before the first war. She left it to Pop for his lifetime, then to me. Margaret has received my letter. That will be why the house was taken off the market. They probably thought I was dead.’

T HE W ATER -P ISTOL B ANDIT
    M id-June and cold. They were halfway home and Georgie driving when a sleety drizzle set in. They’d stopped for a fast coffee at six and Margot had wanted fish and chips. Elsie gave in to her. They’d lost half an hour waiting for the meal to come, then waiting for