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Happy Returns

Joe Byrne and The Melbourne Women's Dressage Champion.
Robert Drewe's book, on which the latest NK film is based, is a wonderful, jagged interpretive mix of fiction and reality. This little tale is based on one of those details that makes me laugh everytime I think of it. 'The women's dressage champion was so impressed with Joe's piaffe, that she laid herself down on the green baize for him.' A woman after my own heart.

 wall by Mirk

Happy Returns

Ah Christ she is lying down on that green baize waiting fer me,  that look about her- like a snake about to take its prey whole, fuck now there’s a thought to keep yer warm of a night. I knew what she wanted before I finished me pint. A whole gang of women all dressed up and swinging their whips, me and the boys thought Christmas came early to Avenel. She knew what she wanted before I had half finished me pint. And the papers say I am a womaniser! Those fellas don’t know women, maybe’s they never walked into a bar and could tell which one by the dark in her eyes.

 Joe will you kiss me

Aye well give me chance Lass, I have some buttons to attend to. Jesus it has been a while and all. “The country is ours, and we will go wherever we like” that’s what Ned said, and its true except for when there’s coppers in town, then we are out in the bush watchin’ the clouds turn colours and the weather race across the sky, sleeping against the rocks and the earth. I’ve sort of got used to being cold at night, like them animals that just stop themselves from living to get through the winter, deep down in the bottom of the creek. Fuck but I miss her, them, every bloody one of them. The ground is too hard and the blanket too rough some nights and try as I might I can’t sleep for thinking about that scent they have, all warm and heavy and enough to make yer lose yer mind.

And now I can see that soft skin in the light creeping under the door from the bar, her fingers pulling that cotton out of the way so I can touch me mouth to her breasts. Jesus. Well Ned did say we should come into town fer some beer and some company. Tom Lloyd heard that the traps are riding up through New South Wales - Hare’s latest plan to get them chasing their own tails- they must like the taste of their own arses. So well it being Steve’s birthday, or there abouts, poor sod says his Ma can’t quite recall there being so many of them, but he is pretty sure on the year at least, we spruced ourselves up a bit in the creek and rode on in like we owned the place. 18 years of age, Christ, just a pup, and one that managed to live another year without getting shot by the coppers nor any other of the fine citizens of Victoria. Anyways here we are, and here I am.

That cake was like nectar to one of them hummingbirds, can’t say the last time I tasted anything so sweet, Dan bought it special from the store on account of Steve’s Ma not being there to bake one. But the sugar is sweeter still off this Lass’s fingers and she has them on me lips now, those little purrs at the nip of me teeth. Wonder if the Police Commissioner or even Graham Berry himself is going to read her report. ‘The outlaws were identified on Saturday afternoon, about 3 o’clock, entering the establishment of Mrs Jones, a hotel of sorts by the name of Murphy’s Law, whereupon they proceeded to drink the bar dry. I apprehended one of the gang, interrogated him and by clever methods of persuasion managed to get him to undo me petticoats, the criminal was then arrested by the sight of me bloomers and held captive by me thighs until reinforcements arrived.’ Well fuck, I hope they will give me a minute or two

Perfect legs she has, now me hands have pushed all that cotton up to her hips, white against the green, must be from all that riding, the ‘Women’s Dressage Champion of Melbourne’ she said. She is smiling now while I pull her to the edge of the table, that baize soft on her back at least. She didn’t tell me that her and her mates are police spies, but then she didn’t need to. Clever Hare, but not that clever. Christ…

What are yer waiting for?

Maybe just for your name, maybe because I want to remember what you feel like for tomorrow when I am back in the bush, maybe because you look beautiful all open and waiting for my cock, maybe because I can’t decide whether to taste you first and maybe because you never know when it will be the last time. You need to think less Joe Byrne

Jesus that feels good.

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