Free Affection by Ian Townsend

me.
    I waited in my office for Humphry and we went together to the Mayor’s chambers, where McCreedy had invited his peers and the aldermen to a reception for Turner. Humphry and I, uninvited, stood at the door. Men were standing around in small stiff groups.
    ‘Let’s go,’ said Humphry, and he started to turn away, but I saw Turner, who waved.
    ‘There are beer bottles on that table,’ I said, and Humphry followed me in.
    The mayoral suite was panelled with cedar. Red velvet drapes were drawn over what would have been large windows opening on to a balcony overlooking the street. McCreedy always kept them drawn against the heat and dust, so even in the day the room had to be lit by gaslight. The furniture was dark and heavy, as were the unsmiling portraits of four previous mayors. McCreedy’s own face hung behind the mayoral desk so that when he conducted interviews, the effect was like being interrogated by large twin uncles.
    Men stood around with drinks and it would have been all very civilised if a dog fight hadn’t then started up in the street below.
    ‘I hope to Christ we missed the speeches,’ said Humphry.
    Turner seemed even smaller in the large room of large men. I saw McCreedy offer him a whisky and Turner shake his head, and with that I knew he’d failed the last test of northerly manhood. Bacot was hunchedwith some aldermen near the table of food, looking furious and hungry.
    Turner might as well be bleeding in a pool of sharks.
    Willmett came up with a tray of tropical fruit and Turner took a banana.
    Humphry had veered towards the table of bottles. Willmett offered me some fruit and I thanked him but shook my head, and he wandered off.
    ‘It’s good to see you again,’ said Turner.
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘Under better circumstances this time.’
    I nodded. They could hardly have been worse.
    ‘Your wife?’
    I nodded again but said nothing.
    He looked around the room. ‘You and Dr Humphry have created a bit of a kerfuffle.’
    ‘Have we?’
    ‘Incarcerating two Members of Parliament. One of them a former Premier, no less. And three ministers of religion. You’ve made quite a few people uneasy.’
    ‘Well, the man had plague,’ I said.
    ‘Quite.’
    Humphry came over with two glasses of beer.
    ‘I was just telling Dr Row that you’ve both done an excellent job so far,’ said Turner, shaking his head at the glass Humphry offered.
    ‘The Board of Health even mentioned it to me in a letter,’ he continued, patting his breast pockets. ‘I have it here somewhere.’
    ‘Really?’
    ‘It’s what we’d hope from our medical officers along the Queensland coast. Unfortunately, not all of them are as thorough.’
    ‘That’s true,’ said Humphry.
    ‘Ships are going to and from ports without check now. Local councils are thumbing their noses at Brisbane. Well, that’s hardly news, I suppose. Anyway, it will be a disaster.’ Turner finished his banana and looked for a place to put the skin. I held out my hand. ‘Thank you. Of course, as you know Townsville is especially vulnerable, being in the tropics, with its port and…how many people live here?’
    ‘Seventeen thousand,’ said Humphry. ‘Not counting blacks, of course. About twenty thousand in the gold fields.’
    ‘That many? Anyway, it appears you’ve made Townsville a shining example of disease prevention. So. Well done.’ He reached out and shook our hands again.
    I felt the suspicious gaze of men from all corners of the room. I saw McCreedy look away.
    ‘There are still a few problems,’ I said.
    ‘That’s why I’m here.’
    Many of the aldermen were openly smirking. I had the impression they’d made up their minds about this little man and had already dismissed him. He was a southern intruder who had no business in the North anyway. When they came up to shake his hand, therewas a patronising politeness. Enjoying the weather? Not too hot? Best avoid the Commercial Hotel.
    Between these introductions, I told Turner about