DARK DAZE / CHANGING DAZE

When I'm stuck with a day that's grey and lonely
I just stick up my chin and grin and say oh

The sun will come out tomorrow
So you got to hang on 'til tomorrow, come what may!
Tomorrow, tomorrow, I love you tomorrow
You're only a day away

I guess that's how I'd always lived my life and thankfully I always would.  With Matty facing a death sentence and me facing a prison sentence how else could I cope?  Yes, drugs got me through, but underlying all the calamities was a sense that something better was waiting.

 

 

Matty was continuously sick and after a month of his HIV diagnosis gave up his job.  This didn't make it any easier for me as he offered no help with running the business, only caring that there were drugs in the bowl whenever he wanted them.

So I was left to run the business.  Answer the phone calls, clean the house, do the washing, walk the dog, do the shopping, cook the dinner and ensure that drugs were always on hand. I started seeing clients again in order to earn extra cash, quite often aware that whilst I was upstairs doing the business, Matty would be downstairs letting the phone ring out.  It was only when our partner/drug dealer was there that Matty would get active and give the impression that he was working.

 

 

My trial date was fast approaching and I honestly don't know how I kept myself together.  My very expensive solicitor was telling me that at best I could look forward to was two years in prison, but I would be put in a protection wing.  That really didn't offer much comfort.

Eventually the big day arrived.  We drove down to Canberra in the morning with my parents following behind.  On the way I popped two Mogadon and we smoked two joints - there was no way I could face the reality of what was about to happen.

Strangely arriving at the Supreme Court of Australia, I was met by the prosecuting police officer who told me to be positive and things wouldn't be as bad as I had expected.  This was the last person I though would offer me comfort.

 

 

Even more strange was that when my convictions were read out the amount of drugs I had originally been charged with possessing had dropped from 27 grams to 11 grams!  The block of hash was still included and constituted the most damning part of my charges.  In a haze I stood and listened as the charges were read out, the police gave their statements and I was asked if I still pleaded guilty to the charges.

When I answered in the affirmative the judge sentenced me to two years hard labour at Berrima Correction Centre.  I was in a daze and didn't hear the rest of his decision.  It wasn't until my mother hugged me that I realized that somehow I had been given a reprieve.  The sentence had been re-imposed with a one year good behaviour bond!  Apparently this was largely due to the letter of recommendation from my mother's friend (still at that time one of the leading ministers in parliament) and the fact that Matty had submitted his medical records and a letter stating that I was his sole carer.

I had no conditions other than that I be of good behaviour for twelve months or otherwise the original sentence would be put into effect immediately.  The sun had come out!

 

Unexpectedly the sun came out in more ways than one.  In the weeks after my trial the demolition work on the neighbouring houses stopped and the rebuilding began.  Luckily for us the workers started at our end and moved from house to house so gradually the construction noise grew less and less.  Then our 'deranged' neighbours on the other side of us were evicted.  Admittedly in the first week they moved out we were inundated with hoards of mice, rats, cockroaches and fleas which we had to deal with by calling in the fumigators and closing down for a day.

 

This coincided with a sudden influx of 'new' boys wanting jobs.  Actually none of them were new - they were all ex Brett's Boys workers and friends.  I don't exactly know what happened but as I had expected with Colin in charge the place had started falling apart and the boys were desperate both for work and to get away from Brett's.

Even better was that quite a few of them came armed with phone lists of regular clients, something which I hadn't had the opportunity of getting and business started booming.  It was still mainly outcalls and weekend work but we were suddenly and happily beginning to make a profit and I had some support from my friends who were only too happy to pitch in and help with the running of the business. 

 

Our partner was delighted - not only was he making money after 6 months but he was also getting his former profits by selling marijuana tothe new boys. With no neighbours on either side of us we put up a tin covered extension at the back of the bathroom where we could not only smoke without the clients knowing but where we could also hear the phone ringing and door bell. It was almost like the old (new) Brett's Boys.

This period of profit and 'back to the good old days' was only to last for another 3 months.  Matty's sickness and coping strategies, combined with our landlord finding out that we were running a brothel would lead to the inevitable and traumatic crunch that always seemed to find me when I was 'at the top'.......