The Brisbane Line by JP Powell

Author:JP Powell
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Military, crime, history
Publisher: Brio Books
Published: 2020-04-15T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seventeen

In the lounge room of the Collinsons’ flat, perched on the cliff above Kangaroo Point, Debussy’s Clair de Lune drifted languidly from the record player. Mingling with smoke, the sound travelled to the bedroom where Rose had flung her sandals off and kneeled, drawing on a cigarette the way she imagined Katharine Hepburn would. Laurie Collinson sat in a cane chair with a book of Blake’s poetry — open but unread — on his lap. On the floor below him Barrie Reid lay sprawled before a plate of biscuits. The carpet was strewn with coffee cups, papers and books.

‘Will it ever stop!’ Thea Astley rushed through the open door, threw her heavy briefcase down and propped herself on the bed beside Rose. ‘Days at school and nights at university. Honestly, I love it all — the children are amusing, I adore the study — but it’s wearing me down. It gives me wonderful ideas for stories but never enough time to write. Have you got tickets for the show?’ She looked down at Barrie. ‘I can’t believe Eugene Ormandy’s coming to Brisbane. Artie Shaw, John Wayne and now this. Sometimes I think it’s heaven being at war. At least it’s put us on the map.’

Rose stared at her hands.

‘Oh,’ Thea said, one hand to her mouth, the other touching Rose’s shoulder. ‘Of course I don’t mean that. How thoughtless.’

‘I know,’ Rose said. ‘You’re right. We do live in exciting times.’

‘Not yet,’ Barrie answered Thea. ‘I’m working on it. Some of the others have to be at the school’s army training camp, but with luck they’ll get leave and we can all get tickets.’

Laurie lifted a pile of paper, weighting it in purple-stained hands. ‘Here, I’ve got the copies. Dad’s duplicator’s done a good job I think, and Mr Astley ran his eyes over to check for mistakes.’ He smiled at Thea. ‘It’s definitely an improvement on anything State High could do.’ He passed around the thin paper covered in closely typed text, a dozen or so pages stapled together. The front page featured a line drawing of a tree with no leaves, a road, and the words Barjai spelled out in winding letters along the track leading, Rose presumed, to the future.

Barrie flicked through the pages, smiling when he found the reproduction of his poem. ‘It looks terrific,’ he said. ‘Have you sent Clem his copy yet? What does he think?’

‘I’ll give him a copy later tonight. But we’re on our way, even without Clem. Our third edition. I’m not sure any of us thought we’d get this far with it. I’m pleased we agreed on the words of our statement,’ Laurie intoned. ‘“We who are growing to maturity in war must not likewise refuse our challenge. This time is crisis. Either we can allow our world to go from crisis to chaos, or we can struggle to achieve a new world and regain for it a new moral sense.”’

Rose smiled at the pompous words. Laurie was so serious and even though she agreed with the sentiments, for now she just wanted to live a little.

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