Sydney: Monday December 31 1990
I descended the bare concrete steps and found her sitting in a small annex in the cellar, the noise from the bar a muted rumble. The light fought its way from the street through a stained window, only to be sliced up by an ancient Venetian blind. It fell across her legs in bands of light and dark like a narrow crossing to paradise. Smoke drifted from her motionless fingers towards the ceiling and mingled with the yellowed flaking plaster.
'I wondered if I'd find you down here, Molly.'
'Get tired of the party?'
'I don't like parties or the people who like them.'
'So why did you come?'
'I was looking for someone. What's your excuse?'
She took another pull on the cigarette, dropped it on the floor and uncrossed her legs. 'Looks like you found me. What can I do for you, Johnny Ray?'
'You can tell me where to find Thelma.'
'Why do you think I know where she is? And what do you want with Thelma?'
'That's between me and Thelma. What are you doing down here by yourself?'
'I don’t like parties either, but unlike you I didn’t have a choice.'
'Why, who's leaning on you this time?'
She gave an amused snort. 'Jimmy.'
'Jimmy Shoes?'
'Who else. Said he might need me later.'
'For?'
One side of her mouth curled in ironic amusement. 'He didn’t specify.'
'No, Jimmy's never very specific except when it comes to his footwear. Never did understand that.'