CHANGING DAZE.....(part 2).

Just when everything seemed to be coming together for me it suddenly started all falling apart.

My family were not only re-united but extended.  My older sister had married and had two infant daughters and my second sister was now married to a 'nice guy' and had begun to re-connect with my father, even if it was only in small visits every few months.

My mother was planning her second trip back to England (she had been once before since taking me) and this time she was planning not only to spend her holiday with her family, but also to take a two week trip to Portugal with her sister.  It would be her first real holiday since taking me in 1976.

A day after she flew out of Sydney my older sister rang me with the news that my father had suffered a massive heart attack and was in the Intensive Care Unit after undergoing a triple heart by-pass.  Her immediate plan was to call my mother in England and get her to return.

I was against this. Firstly because I didn't want her to ruin her holiday and lose her hard earned savings by returning when there was literally nothing she could do.  Secondly because for the time being I would be able to spend every day visiting my father and was happy to look after him when he got out of hospital.

My sister grudgingly agreed that we could wait, but if things began looking serious then we had to contact my mother.  With the best care in the hospital and daily visits from me, my father soon recovered and was released with two weeks left before my mother's return.

I spoke with my father and he was happy for me to return home until mum came back.  It was only to be 4 nights a week (I had arranged with Graham and the other receptionists to work 5 straight shifts from Friday night to Monday morning) and my sister agreed to pop in on the weekends to look after him.

So, I was attending college 5 days a week.  On 4 days I would catch the train home (1.5 hours travel) and look after the house and my dad.  Cleaning, cooking, watering the garden and doing the laundry.  Matty would arrive each evening around 6.30pm.

Dinner was served and generally my father retired to his bed not long after.  Matty and I would clean the dishes and then go downstairs to the rumpus room where we slept.  We'd get stoned, always after Dad had gone to sleep and after a final check on Dad we'd sleep.  Each morning I prepared fresh fruit salad for Dad's breakfast and made sandwiches for him before Matty and I would leave for the day.

On Thursday's I would spend at least 2 hours cooking dinners and making sandwiches so that Dad had enough to eat over the next few days.  My sister lived only one suburb away but never once came to visit during the two weekends (it would be friendly neighbours who not only told me this but who also stepped in to visit and help Dad out on the weekends).

It was a hectic time for me, but after the stress I had caused my family, and my guilty conscience regarding my hidden lifestyle, I felt that finally I was doing something positive for my family and re-paying some of the hurt I had caused them.

I was shocked when after my mother returned I received a phone call from her.  I was accused of all sorts of crimes.  Using my father because I didn't have a home at the time, pushing my 'lifestyle' in his face because I had let Matty stay over, smoking drugs (okay so that one was true) and even using his money to support myself.  That was definitely not true!  Not only had Matty and I used our own money to buy groceries for us and my father but we had also stocked the kitchen with a week's supply of food before my mother returned.  Apparently my sister 'was witness' to all of this!

There was nothing I could do or say to change their opinions.  With everyone against me there didn't seem to be a point.  I was hurt beyond imagination and it would be 3 months before I even spoke to anyone in my family again....and only because my mother left a begging request on my answering machine to contact her.

29 years later and I finally found out what lay behind all of this. My Aunt recently visited me and she gave away some secrets which made it all much clearer to me.  After years of disharmony (and with encouragement from me) my mother had arrived in England with as many of her belongings as she could pack.  She announced to my Aunt that she had 'left Danny for good'.  Obviously it didn't take long for dad do realize  that she had left him and this is what brought about the heart attack,

As for the accusations.  Well, I believe my mother felt guilty at what she had caused, my sister also felt guilty for showing as little interest in Dad as possible and my father was willing to go along with whatever anyone said - after all he had his wife back and a daughter with grandchildren.  Why did he need his homosexual, drug addicted, non-skilled son?  Someone needed to be blamed and I was the obvious scape-goat.

A few weeks later the biggest change of the year would occur.  Strangely enough I had had a premonition about this.  I was still doing Graham's weekly house-cleaning and since his opening of his 'girls parlor' in the suburbs I had noticed some obvious changes about him.

Firstly he almost stopped visiting Brett's.  Leaving the running of the establishment up to me with occasional visits from Tony to see if we needed anything.  Secondly every time I saw him he seemed to be more and more out of it on cocaine, and thirdly he had become very nervous.  Not only in his physical reactions to things  like the phone ringing or the door bell going, but also getting his house installed with a security system which included front and back cameras, steel security doors and barring the windows.  I put this down to his growing dependence on cocaine.

I remember one evening, sitting in our new house (which I now shared with Matty and Betty) and as we were chatting and bonging I had a strange feeling that I needed to ring Graham.  I was due there the next morning so used that as my excuse to call. I was going to say I would be running late but would be there......I didn't need to make any excuses.  Tony answered the phone and promptly told me I didn't need to come in as Graham wasn't feeling well and didn't want to be disturbed.

All night I had a nagging feeling that something was not quite right.  So before 7am the next morning I arrived at Brett's even though it wasn't my shift.  Already there and awake Michael told me something terrible had happened and that Tony had just rung to say he would be coming over to explain.

Graham had apparently overdosed on heroin the previous evening and died.  Tony explained to us that in his suicide note Graham had left the Parlour to Michael, Colin and Myself and that all other assets he had left to Tony.

Through all the shock I had enough sense to know that nothing was as clear cut as Tony was making it sound.

Firstly I had known Graham for nearly two years and never once known him to use heroin.  He didn't even inject cocaine and I had certainly never once found any evidence of syringes at Graham's house.  Secondly I realised that a suicide note was not a will and that our inheriting the business was a nice gesture but one which would likely not happen.  Thirdly I also knew that Tony had obviously known the evening before which is why he had not only not let me talk with Graham but had told me not to bother coming around the following day.

We ran the parlour for the next two days, waiting for Tony to return with further news.  We never saw him again.  On the third day a friend of Graham's, Marcia (another sex change) arrived at Brett's to say that Tony had apparently run off with all of the cash and drugs in Graham's house and the girls parlour and most of Graham's antiques were also missing.

With her came two very large and scary looking stand-over guys.  Marcia calmly announced that Graham had promised her the parlour and she was taking over.  We could stay and continue in the same positions or leave.

Colin and I chose to stay.  Michael chose another route and within a few days had poached half the boys and started running his own version of 'Brett's Boys' from his home.  We had nothing to worry about in that respect.  Brett's was still operating with the same address and contact numbers and only a few of our regular clients even knew that Graham had died.

Our biggest worry was the change in routine.  Marcia promptly installed her stand-over guys in the house and they watched over our every move.  She forbade any drug taking and her guys made sure it was enforced.

it was easy for the boys as they only had to duck around to Diamond Lil's for a quick smoke or snort.  For me it was different.  I had to be available all shift and my only opportunity to get stoned was by hiding a bong and mull bowl in the laundry where for the next two weeks I would duck out and smoke a couple of bongs while putting the laundry in the washer or dryer.

Thankfully this didn't last for long.  I received a phone call from a lady named Louise who I had met at Graham's on three or four occasions.  Louise ran a really popular brothel in King's Cross called 'The Pink Flamingo'.  It was a straight parlour and at the time probably one of the best known in Sydney.  Louise wanted to meet me for coffee......

Over coffee Louise explained to me that not only was she convinced that both Tony and Marcia had been responsible for Graham's death and theft of all his money, but also that the local police were not going to let Brett's continue with Marcia controlling it.  I knew enough about the way the police worked to realise that this was most likely true.  I also knew that Louise had much more money, power and allies behind  her than Marcia.

Louise calmly told me that she knew I was one of the few people Graham trusted and she was willing to do the same if I allied with her.  She mentioned that the property would have to change as Graham's family were contesting the estate and would get possession but she had another premises available and she was going to pay for the phone numbers to be retained (this meant laying landlines, at considerable expense, to the new premises) and already had advertising ready to print once the change occurred.

All she wanted was for me to keep quiet and wait for her to 'turn up' the following Friday evening making sure that I had gotten Marcia there early in the evening.  I was promised full control of running the business and assured that as long as we were discreet (we always were) that smoking pot or snorting speed or cocaine wouldn't be an issue with her.  I was also promised an extra $100 per week wages.  I was in!