Free Frederick's Coat by Alan Duff Page A

they would be living with us.’ This was hard to take, coming from a kid.
    ‘Why did you buy a horse?’
    ‘I didn’t buy a horse.’ Johno explained betting. ‘One day we might have our own house,’ he said. Got a look that said Danny didn’t believe him.
    ‘So why am I crying in your drawing? Mean dads don’t cry. They make other people cry.’
    ‘You made Mum cry. We saw her when you didn’t live here. Why don’t you go away? Then she’ll come back.’
    Johno tried again. ‘Adults do things kids don’t understand till they get older. Then you’ll be doing the same with your kids.’
    ‘Will not.’
    ‘Okay, maybe you won’t,’ said Johno. ‘You didn’t say why I’m crying.’
    ‘You’re sad.’
    ‘At what?’
    ‘Mum.’ Pulled his lips closed as if stitching them together. Defiance filled his eyes.
    But he didn’t resist his father’s embrace, even snuggled into him.
    Now that all seemed in the dim past.

Chapter seven
    I n a year of working at Harry’s he’d saved precisely nothing. If it hadn’t been for his father, he and Danny would be out on the street. But he no longer considered going back to crime. Selling cars on his own account like his father was doing, he might have to if nothing better than working for Harry came up. Though he was no car salesman.
    ‘You’ve got that look,’ Johno said to his father, who was standing in the front doorway looking pleased with himself.
    ‘Does it show?’
    ‘Grin any more and your face will split. You win something at the pub?’
    ‘I don’t frequent pubs like I used to,’ said Laurie Ryan. ‘Guess what?’
    ‘I got over guessing games at about age ten. Just spill it.’
    ‘That partner I told you I went in with on the property deal?’
    ‘Shall I pop out while you get the melodrama over with? You can play it to Danny. I’m sure he’ll be impressed.’ Johno not in the mood after another day of unpleasant kitchen tasks that were an affront to a man’s dignity, not helped by a mad boss.
    ‘To think, it’d been literally sitting under my nose all this time,’ Laurie said. ‘The equity I had in the house — gone way up. Equity, son. Beautiful word that.’
    ‘You used to say to me a good story is a short one.’
    ‘Remember my mate Wrighty informing me I had all this equity in the house, so I could borrow against it to invest in some industrialproperties that earned me rent to cover the loan payments? Well, the local shire re-zoned the area to residential, which shot the value of the land way up. Just sold it and I’ve ended up with a surplus of — wait for it.’ He lit a cigarette, the smell no longer one Johno enjoyed. ‘Would you believe I made three hundred and thirty grand?’ The words came out on a slowly expelled stream of cigarette smoke.
    ‘Jesus. And I doubted when you told me about this so-called investment.’
    ‘Not me who put the word “so-called” into it. I knew with Wrighty having big skin in the game it had to be a goer. Well, first thing is, I’m buying fifty grand of shares for our Danny boy.’ This was what he called his grandson when he was in a good mood. ‘Where is he?’
    ‘Out with Mavis,’ said Johno. ‘Shares in what?’
    ‘A logistics company. Boring, but a safe and steady Eddie growth company. Danny’s annual dividends will be converted to shares. By the time he’s twenty-one …’ Using monetary terms Johno had never heard of, and surprising coming from his father.
    Laurie held up his finger to say he wasn’t quite done yet. ‘You said your boss has put his business on the market. Well, I’m happy to put up the dough to buy it. How much does he want for it?’
    ‘Now I’m really shocked,’ Johno said.
    ‘Not what I asked. You should be cooler than that.’
    ‘I dunno. A hundred and twenty grand, as I recall. But—’
    ‘I don’t do “buts”. That include the building?’
    ‘Guess it does. But who says I want to own a restaurant, let alone his dump?’
    ‘I didn’t.