Free In Lonnie's Shadow by Chrissie Michaels Page A

her?’
    ‘Can’t see you doing the Block with the toffs on a Saturday arvo. And the Federal Coffee Palace won’t let the likes of us through the door. Guess ya could walk around the Eastern Market. But you’d have to protect her from all us riffraff.’
    ‘Take a lot to keep her entertained. I’d have to keep her laughing,’ mused Lonnie, ‘and stop her spending too much of my money.’
    ‘You’re dreaming, mate.’
    Lonnie sighed and picked up a flagon from a stack on the wagon. ‘New line?’ he asked.
    ‘Ginger ale. Heard it’s selling well so thought I’d carry some. See how it goes.’
    Lonnie inspected the stoneware jar with its corked lid. There was no doubting Carlo was a go-ahead.
    ‘With all your enterprising, bet you’ll be living with the toffs yourself before too long.’ Carlo was already an owner-driver and determined to make enough to build an ice works factory. Lonnie fully expected Carlo would take his place on Collins Hill one day, where the houses of the wealthy, three storeys tall, lined the street behind wrought iron railings and raised garden beds. ‘So long as you don’t let those building societies nab your profits.’
    ‘My stash is staying under the mattress. Best bank in Melbourne right now. Rumour’s going around the Macquarie is about to close. That’ll make nearly all of them shutting this year.’ Everyone was having to tighten the purse strings. It was a sobering thought.
    ‘Say I marry Rose Payne,’ Lonnie said. ‘Say we lived at her place on Collins Hill, you could be rich enough to set up next door. Do you reckon the nobs get more sleep than us?’
    ‘Not if they stop off at Mrs B’s.’
    Lonnie laughed. As Bella plodded through the back lanes towards the main thoroughfare he murmured quietly to her. He became aware that Carlo was grinning smugly. ‘Just making sure her heart’s not broken.’ It was a double-edged truth. He had an intuitive understanding of horses, knowing well this was the way to give them confidence. You had to learn how a horse was feeling, anticipate what it was thinking, then work with it to bring out the best. Up until recently the most placid of the Benetti family, old age was catching up with the good-natured dobbin. The time was drawing nearer when after a day’s work Bella would be sent to the glue factory instead of the stableyard. It would be a sad and sorry day for them all.
    They headed for Melbourne’s answer to the boulevards of Europe, an area where roads were lined by young elm trees and cobbled in timber and bluestone; where tramcars rattled downhill; and on a Saturday morning well-dressed young men and women were inclined to shop in the arcades, then stroll in the afternoon along the sheltered walkways, a pastime they fondly called ‘doing the Block’.
    On the street corners barrow boys were already setting up their loads. Coals warmed in their braziers ready for roasting horse chestnuts and potatoes. Flower sellers made ready their posies of pansies tied around with pale ribbons. Large bouquets trailed wild ramblers. There was a clatter of noise as the handcarts and wagons rolled into place and the traders dropped down the timber sides, showing off their heavy-skinned vegetables for sale. Everywhere the fruit was so fresh it could have fallen from the trees straight into the crates. On seeing this fat, rich fare it was hard to contemplate how some folk were already going hungry.
    As they were setting up their fresh produce, Lonnie took the opportunity to tell Carlo about his recent track work on Trident. ‘Reckon I could have beaten Crick,’ he said. ‘There’s more to Trident than meets the eye.’ He suddenly stopped short, as if he’d had second thoughts about something.
    If Carlo picked up any slight hesitation on Lonnie’s part, he failed to show it and the remark passed by without much of a comment, Carlo more concerned with his own prospects. ‘Sure way to lose your job, but could be a good thing,’ he