Rosie
A few days later, Tom was arrested when the vice raided a number of illegal gambling rooms throughout the Cross. Rosie suspected Jack had a hand in it, although he was quick to deny it. Word was that if Tom was convicted, he would be put away for a long time. For Rosie, the longer the better, and it seemed that at least for the time being Tom would be out of her life, but more importantly, out of Jimmy’s life.
She should’ve walked away the moment she realised Tom was not the same man she had married. Looking back, she should’ve picked it up in his letters. The ones that arrived in the first six months were full of hope and described a vibrant Kings Cross, the same that Rosie had come to love.
When Tom’s letters slowly became shorter, devoid of vividness and lacking emotion, she should’ve known. Instead, in her mind she told herself that Tom was busy working and setting up a life for them. She thought that once they were all together, it would change and she had clung blindly to this hope for far too long.
But really, how well had she known Tom before they married? He had already admitted that had she not been pregnant, he would not have married her. She had known from the very beginning of their relationship that he was planning on emigrating to Australia and now it was evident that she and Jimmy were an inconvenience. Had their time apart fuelled Tom’s resentment that he had a wife and child?
While she was free from Tom, what Rosie didn’t envisage was becoming homeless. Two weeks after Tom’s arrest, there was a knock on the front door.
‘May I help you?’ she asked the burly-looking man on the other side, rubbing her hands dry on her apron.
‘Yeah—I’m George Norris. I’m looking for Tom.’ By his accent, she could tell he was American, but unlike Jack’s accent, which was smooth and melodic, the man in front of her spoke with a drawl that seemed unrefined.
‘Tom’s not here … he’s gone away for a while … for work,’ Rosie informed the man, who didn’t seem impressed with her response.
‘Is that right? Well who does live here; would that be yourself, Ma’am?’
Rosie felt her back straighten. ‘Not that it is of your concern, but yes, I live here.’ Jimmy at that point ran up the hall and tangled himself in her skirt. ‘I live here with my son.’
‘With all due respect, Ma’am, it is my concern, as you’re living in a property that I own.’
‘Oh.’ Rosie felt winded. ‘You’re—’
‘Yes, I’m George Norris, your landlord.’
‘I’m sorry, Mr Norris, Tom never mentioned you by name.’ In fact, come to think of it, Tom had never mentioned the landlord at all.
‘So how can I help you, Mr Norris?’ She detangled Jimmy from her legs and propped him on her hip. ‘Would you like to come in?’
‘No thank you, I will be brief. Your rent is due. Today.’
‘Oh.’ Rosie instantly felt half-witted. Of course he was here to collect rent. Why else would a landlord come? Which begged the question, why hadn’t she seen him before now? Certainly, she’d been home more often than Tom. ‘If you could let me know how much is owed for the week, I could see if I have it here, otherwise I could go to the bank and …’ She stopped when she spotted his snarly grin.
‘It’s not just this week, Ma’am. Rent is due for the past fourteen weeks.’
‘Fourteen?’ she shrilled. ‘We’re three and a half months behind?’
‘It’s good to see you’re better at maths than Tom was. The only reason I allowed it to go this long was that he was so shit at gambling I was getting his money some way. But I can’t let it go on any longer. I need my money, Ma’am.’
Feeling like she’d just been punched in the gut, Rosie lowered Jimmy to the ground and asked him to go play in his room. Luckily, he didn’t seem fussed and toddled off.
Inhaling sharply, she turned back to face the landlord. ‘Mr Norris … just how much money is owed in rent?’ She was almost afraid to ask.
When he named a preposterous sum, she gasped. It was more than she had in her savings account, which had been slowly dwindling as she supported Jimmy and herself.
‘But that doesn’t include his gambling debt.’
Rosie stared at him, hoping that he was joking, but there was nothing jovial about the way Mr Norris was looking at her.
‘Mr Norris … are you suggesting that I clear Tom’s gambling debt as well?’
‘When are you expecting him back?’
‘I’m not expecting him back at all. And if you knew Tom was a gambler, then you know he’s in jail.’
‘Yes, I heard he was in the slammer. Are you still married to him?’
‘Technically yes, but—’
‘I don’t need to know your marital woes, Mrs Fuller, all I need is my money. Since I’m in a generous mood, I’ll give you a month to come up with the full amount.’ He pulled out a notebook and scribbled something before handing it over to her. There were two amounts—the top was the amount he’d mentioned that was owed in rent, the bottom presumably was Tom’s debt.
‘A month?’ She baulked, her hand shaking uncontrollably as she gripped the paper. ‘For all this?’ She had never seen so many zeros in her life. ‘How do I even know you’re telling the truth about this debt?’
‘There are plenty of people that can vouch for your husband’s debt, Mrs Fuller. And just so you know, I rounded that figure down.’
She wished he would stop calling her Mrs Fuller. Rosie’s head felt like it was about to explode. ‘I don’t know how I’m going to get you this money, Mr Norris.’
‘You’re a smart gal,’ he swept a leering gaze up and down her body that gave Rosie the heebie-jeebies, ‘and a pretty one, too. I’m sure you’ll figure it out. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have other business to attend to.’ He tucked the notebook and pen inside the breast pocket of his jacket and tipped his hat. ‘Good day.’
More like other people to skin alive.
‘What if I can’t find the money by the end of the month?’ she called out to him when he was halfway down the front path.
‘Then you and your son will be homeless and the debt still stands. No matter where you go, I’ll find you.’
Rosie wasn’t going to allow that. Somehow, she would find a way to repay him. ‘You’ll have your money by the end of the month, Mr Norris.’
He sent her a look that read he highly doubted her, but to his credit he merely nodded. ‘I like the sound of that, Mrs Fuller.’
‘It’s not Mrs Fuller. It’s Ms Hart. Rosie Hart.’
‘Well then, Rosie Hart of the Cross, I’ll see you in a month.’
Rosie closed the door behind her and crumpled to the floor.
She wasn’t sure how long she sat there, but a while later, there was furious banging on the door. She thought it might be Mr Norris again, but it was Mary, looking every bit as shell-shocked as Rosie felt.
‘Oh, not you, too!’
‘He’s given me a month to pay what is owed and get out. He’s selling the house!’ Mary bemoaned. ‘How long has he given you?’
Rosie sighed. Mr Norris hadn’t mentioned selling the house to her, but she wouldn’t put it past him. ‘Come on,’ she ushered Mary inside, ‘I’ll put the kettle on.’
Over tea, Rosie and Mary exchanged their woes. As Mary had indicated, Mr Norris was selling her house and issued a notice to vacate the premises within a week. On top of it all, she had lost her job at the nightclub. Her boss, who’d been the baby’s father, decided that even without the pregnancy, Mary was a liability, and even though her debt was nowhere near Rosie’s, she still needed to find a place to stay.
‘I can’t believe that he’s making you cough up Tom’s debt.’ Mary shook her head angrily. ‘It’s just not fair.’
‘Fair or not, it’s not Mr Norris’s fault. It’s Tom’s. George Norris is simply trying to recover his money.’ Rosie exhaled.
‘You need to talk to Jack. He knows Mr Norris—they served together in the war. He won’t be able to talk him out of selling my place, he’s already told me that much, but surely he could help with the debt? Maybe even get an extension?’
‘I can’t ask that of him,’ Rosie said. ‘This is my mess to take care of.’ And once it was done, she would be rid of Tom and all that bound her to him once and for all. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. He was, in the eyes of God and the law, her husband, which it seemed was the reason why she was lumped with his debt.
‘Rosie! Jack would never let you be homeless.’
‘The debt will follow me no matter where I go. Jack wasn’t the one to cause this—Tom was. Somehow, I need to find that money without selling my body and soul.’
Rosie thoughtfully sipped her tea before tilting her head to one side. There was only one solution to this problem. Scraping back her chair, she grabbed a piece of paper and a pencil.
Thinking back to the time she had spent talking business with Dulcie, she scribbled some notes. Puzzled, she stood to retrieve a sheet of paper from her kitchen drawer.
‘Rosie? What is it?’
She held up a finger to silence Mary. ‘Give me a few minutes, I have an idea. I just want to see if I can make it work …’
The minutes ticked by as she concentrated.
‘Aha!’ Rosie finally said, lifting her head and grinning like she held the Holy Grail. ‘I’m a genius, I’ve got it!’ She sat back down next to Mary. ‘Now, before I tell you what this business proposition is, let me take you through the sums …’
For the next few minutes, Rosie outlined a plan that would, over a period of fourteen weeks, essentially wipe out the total debt. Not only her debt but Mary’s too. What she had planned couldn’t be done alone, she needed Mary, and Mary needed her.
‘Now, I know this doesn’t fix it in a month, but what if we could show Mr Norris this amount,’ Rosie tapped the pencil to the figure she had written next to week two, ‘and promised him the same, if not more every week and so on—’
‘Until the debt has been paid.’ Mary’s eyes widened with amazement.
‘If we could give Mr Norris some of his money, and it’s a big chunk, before the time he’s asked for it, I reckon we could convince him to give us fourteen weeks.’
‘It’s brilliant, Rosie. But how are we going to do it? I only have one skill really, and without running the parlour I don’t think …’ Mary stopped short when she spied the look on Rosie’s face. She glanced at the figures then back to Rosie again.
‘Rosie … are you saying that …?’
She nodded. ‘We open Dulcie’s house for trading again, in my apartment this time, and I know that you’re probably not ready—’
‘No, it’s fine,’ Mary insisted. ‘Dulcie wouldn’t have wanted me to wallow and she would have loved the idea of you being the new madam. She thought very highly of you, Rosie, and she loved Jimmy.’
Rosie sighed as her gaze drifted up the hall where Jimmy was playing. ‘My concern is how all of this will affect Jimmy.’
If her calculations were on the money, it would definitely eliminate what she owed George Norris. But there was no way she would expose Jimmy to that sort of shenanigans. She knew that life in the Cross was more liberal, more progressive than elsewhere, but she also knew that with sex came drugs and violence. She was trying to protect him, not throw him back in it. It was one thing to live next door to a brothel—it was another to be raised in one.
‘I’ve got it!’ Mary bounded with excitement in her chair. ‘Move in to the flat above Jack’s diner. That way, Jimmy isn’t here, which I agree isn’t ideal.’
‘Move in with Jack?’ she spluttered.
Mary shrugged. ‘What’s wrong with that? You two are together anyway, and Jimmy adores him.’
‘Yes, Jimmy adores him, but …’ Rosie squirmed in her seat and Mary widened her eyes.
‘Saints alive!’ she gasped. ‘You haven’t done the deed with him yet, have you?’
Rosie’s face felt like it was up in flames and she trained her gaze to her cup of tea. ‘It’s only been a couple of weeks, Mary.’
‘But you’ve been in love with each other for months!’
‘We agreed to take it slow. Besides, we haven’t even been on a proper date and now I’m expected to ask him to live together! How is that going to look?’
‘Rosie, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but in Kings Cross, no one cares about that sort of thing. So what do you say, Madam Rosie?’
Rosie sipped her tea, mulling over the possibility. Could she do this? ‘Assuming Jack said yes, we would need to hire some more girls. Could you help with that?’
‘Yes. And I know a few possible girls. Dulcie had a rep of being good to work for, and I think once the girls meet you, they’ll want to work for you.’
‘What about the vice? How would we get around them?’ She knew that Jack had connections, but she was determined to do as much of this without his help. Living with him was more than she had planned at this stage.
‘You leave that up to me. I know a few who wouldn’t mind an extra quid or two.’
‘Even so,’ Rosie said, ‘we still don’t know if we can get George Norris to agree to our terms.’
‘George Norris is a businessman. He is also a gambling man. I reckon if we can get this proposal in front of him, we’ve got a pretty decent chance.’
* * *
Two days later, mostly thanks in part to Jack’s sweet-talking, Rosie sat down with George Norris at her kitchen table and presented her proposal.
She explained the calculations and answered questions about logistics and so forth. Throughout the presentation, Norris was pokerfaced and Rosie swore he hated the idea. But once she was done, he leaned back, linked his hands behind his head and grinned like a madman. It was clear that he adopted the same practices in business as he did in gambling, and it was no wonder Tom had become so indebted to him.
‘Brilliant.’
Next to her, Mary gave a nervous laugh, and Rosie’s chest ached as she expelled a breath she had been holding for what seemed like forever. ‘Really? I’m glad you like the idea, Mr Norris.’
‘Like? I love the idea.’
She exchanged a look of relief with Mary, who raised her brows as if to say, I told you so.
‘But I do have some amendments to the terms of payment. There are only three little things really.’
The smile on Rosie’s face froze as the hope within her was dashed. ‘And what would they be?’ She hoped her voice did not betray just how petrified she felt right now. She gripped the pencil in her hand so tightly that she swore it would break in half.
‘Firstly,’ he held up his forefinger, ‘I want payment weekly.’
‘I think we can manage that.’ Rosie nodded as her heart galloped like a racehorse in her chest.
‘Secondly, during this pay-off period, if you earn more than you’ve indicated for the week—I want that, too, but that’s not to say I’ll deduct it from the overall amount owed. Let’s call it insurance money, you know, in case the vice come looking for me—you lot are responsible for keeping the vice quiet on your end.’
Although she kept smiling and nodding, Rosie could feel her hope slowly evaporating. Give him more than what they said they would earn? Surely there was a way of making enough to cover the payment without making too much and having Norris skin them.
‘And the last amendment?’ She was almost too afraid to ask.
‘Lastly,’ he held up the third finger, ‘when you’ve cleared the debt, I’m increasing the rent by fifty per cent. That should cover my cut.’
‘I think we can—’
‘Oh and you have ten weeks, not fourteen,’ he added shamelessly.
‘But that’s four things,’ she said with as much calm as she could muster.
‘But you’ve proven to be a formidable businesswoman, Mrs Fuller—sorry, Ms Hart. Where would the fun be if I didn’t make it interesting?’ George Norris smiled dastardly. He enjoyed making it hard for them, and Rosie could foresee he would keep moving the goalposts if she didn’t lay down some rules of her own.
She glanced at Mary, who gave her a small nod. ‘Very well, Mr Norris, we will accept your amendments.’
A triumphant grin spread across his face and he went to proffer a hand to seal the deal, but Rosie had an amendment to add.
‘Before we conclude this meeting, I want you to promise one thing.’
His hand paused midway across the table, his eyes narrowed. ‘You have a request?’
‘I want your word that you will abide by the terms agreed to today. If we are to bend and break ourselves to meet the weekly deadline for payment, I don’t want you to throw in new hoops for us to jump through.’
Norris seemed impressed with her gall, and after a brief period of consideration he nodded, extending his hand fully. ‘I accept your request,’ he said as he shook each of their hands. ‘And I will do one better than my word and have my solicitor draw up a contract. And just to prove I’m not trying to pull the wool over your eyes, you can have Jack Reid’s man look it over. I know he, uh, thinks highly of you.’
‘Thank you, Mr Norris.’
‘You know, if Tom had half the smarts that you do, you wouldn’t be in this mess.’
‘I’m fully aware of that. But it is what it is.’
He shook his head. ‘You’re one tough cookie, Rosie Hart. As strong as steel.’
‘No, Mr Norris, I’m as strong as a feather.’