Children of Toil ✔

Chapter Ten

Lucan lifted his eyes from the pages of the book he was trying to read as his uncle walked into the kitchen. He studied Thaiter as he stood in the dim light of the oil-lamp and said, "What you all done up for?"

Grinning, Thaiter finished tucking his clean shirt into his trousers as he said, "It's me birthday and I'm off ta the Cosmopolitan for a couple."

Lucan leaned back in his chair and laughed. "So, what was your reason for all those other Friday nights?"

Thaiter raised his eyebrows and rubbed his chin. "You'll see I'm cleaned up and shaven. I might get lucky tonight."

"Ah... yeh! That one night a year. I remember." Lucan laughed harder. "But I don't reckon I like ya chances."

"I'll live in hope, won't I?" Thaiter winked. He lifted his dirty worn hat from the table and placed it on his ginger red head as a gunfighter might do before his last stand, and then ambled across the wooden floorboards.

Lucan stared after him, the door creaked shut in protest to its years of neglect. He grinned to himself and let his eyes drift back to the pages of his book.

*****

Thaiter nodded to a few of the men, leaned against the bar and waited to be served. James Gibbs, the publican, was in deep conversation with a man who had a fancy case, which contained a pile of papers. The lamp light cast eerie shadows across their faces. Thaiter wondered who the stranger was and what was so important that it had James keeping his customers waiting.

"Hey, James! A man could die of thirst waiting for a drink around here."

James looked up and nodded. He served Thaiter, and then went back to the conversation he had been having.

Taking his beer with him, Thaiter sat at his usual table with Hugh Munro the blacksmith, William Paton the baker and Old Tom Bolch. "What's goin' on there?"

Will glanced toward the bar. "Some townie bloke tryin' to sell insurance. He came to the bakery this mornin'."

Frowning, Thaiter said, "What ya mean... insurance?"

William took a gulp of his drink, and then said, "You pay him so much money every year and if somethin' happens to your place, like a fire or something they'll give ya enough money to build yourself another one."

"Jeeze dat don't sound right ta me. How much money he tell ya you'd have ta pay?"

Will shrugged his shoulders. "To tell the truth, Thaiter, I wasn't taking much notice. He came as I was getting me loaves out of the oven and the bloody dog was havin' a go at 'im, so I was a bit occupied at the time." Will glanced over his shoulder towards the stranger, and then turned back to the men around him and grinned. "Ya know the silly bastard didn't stop talkin' the whole time and didn't spot I wasn't taking in what he was saying. He didn't even notice Boxer had chewed half 'is leg off either."

They laughed, and then started a game of poker. "Did you hear Jacky Norman's been at it again?" Hugh said as he dealt the cards.

"What's he done this time?" Tom took a swig of his beer.

"Knocked off Florence Desmond's chooks." Hugh laid the last of the cards on the table and picked up his hand. "Killed all but three, and then cut down the hen house."

"Lanigan should do something about him," Will said as he picked up his hand.

"Probably got to do with bein' an aboriginal," Old Tom said. "They live different to us." He paused. "I reckon the way life is now don't sit right with him."

Will grinned and jerked his head toward the bar. "Bit like that insurance fellow. Life don't sit right with him either." The table of men roared with laughter.