DARK DAZE...(part 4).

Out of hospital and six weeks before the cast on my hand was removed.  Thankfully I was eligible for 'sickness benefits' which allowed us to continue paying the rent on our house and buy food but not much more.

During that time I began searching for a new rental which we could use as our new business.  With Matty working and my drug dealer 'leaving it up to me' to choose the right premises I spent nearly every day visiting real estate agents and combing the classifieds for the 'right place'.

Eventually I found it, or at least I thought I had.  A beautiful late Victorian detached house located in the suburb of Summer Hill, about 6km away from the city.  It was everything we had been looking for.  The first/last house in the street, with 3 downstairs reception rooms and kitchen plus 3 upstairs bathrooms and bathroom.

To add to it's suitability it was hedged on both sides providing total privacy from the neighbours and directly opposite was a warehouse which fronted the adjoining street.  A driveway led from the front to a garage which had been turned into a 'rumpus room' complete with a toilet and shower - the perfect place for the workers to hang out and for us to smoke without the clients being aware.  The only downside was the location - still considered some distance from the 'gay scene' and the fact that the downstairs rooms were an abomination of period styles which clashed in every room.

At that time the 'gay scene' was still considered to be happening only in the eastern suburbs which was true for clubs and partying, but both Brett's and the only other gay brothel were both in nearby suburbs west of the city.

Matty was happy with the place but our partner (drug dealer) was not.  He wanted something closer to the city.  It was impossible to convince him that not only was the place perfect in terms of privacy and potential, but also that at least half of Brett's regular clients were living in the area, plus a great many lived even further west so this was an ideal location.  He didn't say no but he was adamant that we keep looking for a closer to the city location.

So we submitted an application form and with a promise of being notified of within a week we continued looking at dozens of houses. Maybe things would have been different if it hadn't been for my damaged hand, still in a cast, which started getting painful a few days later.

Strangely enough it was not where the tendons had been torn and repaired but in my fingers.  After a few days not only was the pain becoming unbearable but an awful smell was emanating from my hand.  On Friday morning I returned to the doctors only to be told that the cast had been fitted without 'spacers' between my fingers.  This had caused my fingers to push together and with no air space I had developed gangrene between my fingers.  Eeeeuuuw!

I was immediately put back into the hospital and on an antibiotic drip after being examined by the doctors. Being the weekend, my attending doctor was not returning to work until Monday and so I stayed, alone and unvisited by Matty until lunchtime on Monday, where the doctor assured me the gangrene was arrested and my cast was removed.

On returning home I had to wait until 6pm before Mattty returned from work with the news that he and my drug dealer had signed a lease on a house in Glebe and that we could visit the following morning.  I was really anxious about  setting up a parlour in Glebe - the same suburb as Brett's Boys.  After my 'home invasion' by Louise I had no desire to upset her anymore.

That evening my dealer arrived and assured me that the place was perfect and that he would have no problems dealing with Louise if the need arose.  I had no doubt that he was capable and began looking forward to our following day's visit.

I had misgivings from the moment we drove into the street.  Not only was the house in the poorer area of the suburb, where half the residents were in public housing, but the building itself was tiny and run-down and offered no client privacy at all.

The houses fronted the street with only a metre between the footpath and the front door.  Inside the house was a typical victorian working cottage - 2 up and 2 down as they call them.  The front door opened directly into the lounge dining area which was no more than 4 metres wide by 5 metres long and separated by a staircase which lead to the upstairs rooms.  At the rear of the house was a tiny kitchen leading through to the tacked on bathroom.  The rooms upstairs were equally tiny and offered no noise protection either from the neighbours or other rooms in the house.

Clients would have to walk in directly off the street in full view of all the neighbours and as the downstairs area was so small, the reception area would have to be the middle bedroom upstairs - it was so small that a double bed wouldn't have fitted in.  As for using the bathroom, clients would then have to walk back downstairs and through the kitchen in full view of both the workers and anyone in the kitchen - which became the only room where we could smoke dope.

With no option we went ahead and started advertising to clients and also for workers.  I came up with the idea of offering the workers a 60/40 cut instead of the usual 50/50 cut and we had a flood of boys and trannies within the first week.

The clients too were also interested.  Our first week was unbelievably busy with both in calls and out calls.  Then reality hit.  The downstairs rooms had sea-grass matting as floor coverings which were infested with fleas.  The clients could be heard grunting and groaning and even worse our neighbours were a family on welfare who had mental issues and spent their waking hours screaming at each other which could  be heard throughout the house.

As the weeks went by our in calls became fewer and fewer and most of our jobs were out calls which happened in the evenings.  We ripped up the flooring and polished the floor boards.  We put up bookshelves to separate the lounge area so clients could walk through without having to see all the workers, we painted the walls and did everything we could to make the place more welcoming and private.

All the while we were spending our days in the kitchen smoking ourselves senseless to alleviate the boredom and both Matty and I and the workers began running up credit with our dealer.  While we were busy it didn't pose a problem with him but as we grew quieter and quieter he began limiting credit to only Matty and I.  The workers soon realised that they could get better money at the other parlours and so began a cycle of new workers who lasted for a few weeks before moving onto other parlours where better money could be had.

It was a total failure,  Even more so when the adjoining terrace houses to our left were bought by the government and earmarked for 'public housing'.  Within 3 months of starting the business we were in the middle of a gigantic demolition and reconstruction project which made daytime work practically impossible due to both the construction noise and the constant cat calls from the workers whenever any of our staff left the house.  The clients began avoiding us in droves.

3 months in and we were going nowhere.  Louise didn't have to do anything except sit back and laugh.  Our workers were desperate and looked like it and half our clients would walk in and straight back out after seeing what we had to offer.  I'm sure that we actually helped Louise and Brett's boys as it was only 10 minutes walk away and our clients most likely headed straight there..

We were still optimistic and in our drug filled haze we truly believed we could make a go of it.  That all started to change dramatically when Matty began having sick days from work and at my urging went to the doctors.

5 months before I had caught him shooting up at Brett's Boys and knew then that something bad was going to happen as a result.  Matty returned from the doctors saying they had given him an HIV test and the results would be back within a fortnight...both of us knew what the tests would reveal.

Sure enough, two weeks later, Matty's results showed that he was HIV positive and had been so for around 6 months. Stupidly I reminded him of the 'shooting up incident' and his response was to beat me senseless - until I apologised.  Given his traumatic circumstances I believed that I had deserved his violent reaction and was soon consoling him and promising to stay with him and look after him, no matter what it took.

I would soon regret those words. Life for both of us would change in a way I could never imagine.....

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

McArthur Park is melting in the dark
All the sweet green icing flowing down.
I don't think that I can take it
Cause it took so long to bake it
And I'll never have that recipe again.....

Nothing would be the same again. I consciously made a decision that my past life was my past life.  I had to convince the Federal court that I was a 'decent' person who had made a mistake and for this reason I rejected both Louise's offer of  work and another offer of working at the only remaining boy's parlour in Sydney.

Matty who had given up his customs job a few months previously, made one phone call to his previous employers and they immediately re-hired him.  That was part of his charisma.  Not just on me but on everybody he met.  I, on the other hand was left to endlessly search for jobs in the 'classifieds' which left me feeling unwanted and unskilled.

My secretarial certificate was a joke as I wasn't a girl.  My past experience in retail and kitchen work were over 3 years old and nobody wanted to look at me.  In the end I took a job with a furniture restorer!

Initially he told me that I was not only unqualified, but also to old to qualify for the apprenticeship position that was offered.  In the end, my ability to classify furniture styles and name tools (my father had been a carpenter), and his inability to find anyone else, got me the job.

it was hard work and poor pay.  I spent my days applying paint thinner to old furniture and sanding them down.  The fumes were suffocating, as was working in a tin shed. I was earning a mere $140 a week ( less than I had been earning per day at Brett's) and working my fingers to the bone (literally).  The only high lights were the occassional visit to clients where we would spend the day in million dollar houses while we sat and delicately polished antiques for hour after hour after hour.

I was so poor that I couldn't even afford the bus fares to get to work (or forgo buying my now diminished supply of marijuana) and had to ride a bicycle through the narrow and busy streets of inner city Sydney.

My only break came when we visited a clients house during my second week of work.  He turned out to be a regular client of Brett's and when he got me aside and asked my why I was no longer there he then offered to visit me once a week at home.  His weekly visits and extra $50 made the difference between maintaining  both my drug habit and our beautiful rented house.

Six short weeks later it ended abruptly.  On Saturday morning after I had finished the house cleaning Matty and I sat down to enjoy our now rationed marijuana supply ( we were down to one stick a day).  Having used up our 'morning half' Matty insisted I mull up the remaining stick.  We got into an argument because I knew that if we smoked the rest of the stick we would have nothing left for the evening.....

Matty wouldn't take no for an answer, and I stupidly (even now I can't accept the fact that I was in the right), not only refused but picked up the drugs and went and hid them in my bedroom.  Matty's response was to drag me back from the room and smash my head on the coffee table.  In defence I put my hands out to stop my head from hitting the table.  I don't really remember feeling anything but the next thing I knew was that both me and the table were on the floor and I had blood shooting out from my right wrist.

My hand had hit the ceramic bong and as we crashed to the floor it smashed cutting my 'mound of venus' and wrist deeply. Blood was spurting everywhere.  I didn't feel any pain, only shock.  Matty was telling my it was my fault and even refused to call an ambulance, which after I had wrapped a towel around my hand to try and stem the bleeding I did.

Then I tried to ring my parents.  Matty just lunged at me, hitting me in the face as I desperately pleaded for him to stop and somehow managed to hold onto the phone and let my parents know I needed help.

The ambulance arrived and rushed me to the nearest hospital.  Here I told them that I had been cleaning out the garden shed and tripped over while carrying a box of bottles.  Whether or not they believed me I don't know but that was the story I kept to.  After finally getting to see the doctor where I was poked and prodded ('does it hurt' they asked. 'Only when you stick your fingers in'. I replied) They announced that I had severed two tendons and would transfer me to Royal Prince Alfred Hospital where a surgeon was available to re-attach my severed tendons.

I remember my father arriving at the hospital just before they anaesthetised me and sent me to surgery.  I stuck to my story of falling onto a box of bottles but I'm sure he didn't believe me.  All I know was that again, after a childhood of anger, violence and humiliation, my father had again stood by me.

Matty didn't visit me until the next day.  Even then he came with my drug dealer and his wife who brought me chocolate, flowers and two joints.  Contrary to popular belief that marijuana is a pain reliever, I actually found that it increased my pain levels and only smoked the first joint before succumbing to waves of excruciating pain and spending the rest of the night begging the nurses for pain relief.

It was during this visit that my drug dealer suggested that he would be willing to finance the opening of a new boys parlour if I was willing to run it for him.  With little option of working in a job for months (at least until my damaged hand had healed) and at Matty's enthusiastic urging I agreed......

To move away from the story of my life I want to let my readers know that the next (I don't know how many chapters) are dedicated to the victims of domestic violence.  We all associate domestic violence with the traditional images of men abusing their wives or girlfriends.  However in my experience, and I'm sure I am not alone, domestic violence frequently occurs in gay relationships.

How do you justify letting some one (especially someone who apparently loves you) abuse you both physically and mentally? How do you find yourself believing that not only are you the victim, but the cause of the abuse?  How do you change from being a confident, happy go lucky, ready to take on the world individual to a scared, humiliated and terrified of everything and everyone personality and allow yourself to be trapped in a nightmare world of abuse and torture?

Hopefully the following chapters will give you an insight into not only how it happened to me, but how it happens to millions of people. Love (or the incorrect interpretation of love), dependence (in my case on drugs and the fear of living in poverty) and emotional blackmail are just some of the reasons why victims put up with the violence and are too terrified to take the initial step to get out

I dedicate the next chapters to all of us who have been in this position and urge anyone who is currently suffering in an abusive situation to take the plunge and walk away.   I was to scared and dependant to for nearly 6 years....but almost 30 years on I am still here.  The physical scars are still visible and a daily reminder of my torment, but the emotional scars haunt me to this very day.  What happened to me changed my personality, changed my beliefs in human nature and set me on a course of life-long dependency on both drugs and the need to be appreciated and recognized.

You will be surprised, perhaps even scornful, to know that even today I still think of Matty as my one true love....this was the power he managed to have on me.

CHANGING DAZE...(part 1)

A goddess on a mountain top
Was burning like a silver flame,
The summit of beauty and love,
And Venus was her name.
She's got it,
Yeah, baby, she's got it.

Well I had it and in a few short minutes I lost it all.  I lost my position, power, financial security & lifestyle.  More importantly I had lost my friends and my sense of personal security not to mention my sense of trust.

For 3 days after my bashing I was a nervous wreck.  Jumping at every noise, every car door slamming and even jumping when the phone rang.  Matty was scathing in his response to my fear and poor Betty was torn between her guilt at having played a part in what had happened to me and having to keep her position at Brett's.

I probably made it worse for her as I stoically insisted that I didn't blame her for what had happened and understood that Louise had given her no option but to collude in the event.  So both Betty and Matty continued to work at Brett's while I tried to get myself together and decide on my next step.

I didn't only have the decision of a new career to make but I had to cope with the fact that in six months I would be in court and possibly in prison.  My stupid pride led me to believe that all would be forgiven and forgotten within a few weeks.  I really believed that Louise would realise how essential I had been in the success of Brett's Boys and would re - instate me.  So for nearly two weeks I lived in a drug filled haze where my world revolved around my house and garden and my dog.

Sure enough within a fortnight Louise rang me and asked to meet me for coffee.  Confident that Louise couldn't do without me (she had already shut down the second parlour) I met her and was determined to return only if she offered me my previous position.

Her revelations and offer were not what I had expected, but looking back I understand how I had cornered myself and played into everyone's hands.  Firstly she apologized for what she had had done to me but informed me that that was the only option she had.

According to her 'investigation' with the boys (and I assume it was mainly Colin and the other boy who fabricated the story) I was accused of running a hit squad amongst the workers and using force and blackmail to sell drugs.  Apparently my 'heavies' had forced the boys to buy drugs and only boys who were good buyers were given the priority shifts.  That I had fallen hook line and sinker into taking action by using violence in front of Louise was all the evidence she needed to confirm these totally false accusations - my own worst enemy!

Louise offered me a receptionist position at her girls parlour in Kings Cross. Even though she assured me this would only be for a few months and eventually I could return to my former role at Brett's I was too proud to accept.

I had done nothing wrong to her.  I had only ever tried my best to make Bretts the best parlour in Sydney and had done my utmost to ensure all the boys were treated equally and fairly - as much as the client requirements allowed.  I had even been accused of giving Matty the lions share of the driving jobs. Again this was untrue.  Matty had always been the 'second' driver and only given jobs when our regular driver, who had been with us since the Paddington days, was unavailable.

I felt betrayed by everyone.  All the boys who I had mothered and loved.  The boys who I had happily offered credit when they wanted drugs but couldn't pay for at the time.  I never once pushed for repayment, and often had to wait weeks to get my money back.  The only limits I had put was that I wouldn't let any of  the boys go over $100 in credit. This was not for my benefit, but rather for the benefit of the boys. I figured if they weren't making money then I shouldn't allow them to in-debt themselves to a point where they were financially 'in the shit'.  I had even given some of the boys free drugs when they were in this position.

Mostly I felt betrayed by Louise.  Without my loyalty and hard work her take-over of Brett's would not have been the windfall that it turned out to be.  My stubborn pride refused to see that she was also in a position where she had to act in a certain way.  Taking me back would have undermined the boys accusations and possibly led to a mass walk out with Colin leading the way.  She was a business women after all.

Here she was offering me a lifeline and quietly intimating that my lowered status would only be temporary.  In the back of my mind though were the words of my mother's friend who, only a few short months before had read my tarot cards. 'Beware of a tall dark haired woman and a fair headed man'.  In my eyes this was Louise and her husband.

Probably I was correct in assuming that the tall dark haired woman was Louise.  Looking back I know I was totally wrong in believing the fair headed man to be her husband. Combined with this prophesy and my own stubborn pride I politely refused Louise's offer and that was the last time I saw her.

Within a few short weeks Matty was told his driving position was no longer needed.  He came home and bashed the hell out of me.  This was the first time in nearly 3 years that he had hit me.  Foolishly, although stunned, bruised and battered, I accepted his apology, Later in the evening when he took me in his arms and led me to his bedroom I allowed him to make love to me and foolishly believed that we were again a couple in the true sense of the word.

With our money running out it came as a total shock when Betty announced that he would be returning to Queensland and his family.  I don't know whether it was his sense of guilt seeing me every day - by this time I was running out of both money and drugs- or that he was being given a hard time at Brett's by Colin who had taken total control of the business. 

So not only had Betty betrayed me and been an accomplice to my punishment but now my best friend was also deserting me when I was most in need of a friend.  I didn't take it well and Betty left without either of us saying goodbye.

A week later I received a phone call from his mother.  Betty had committed suicide by overdosing on sleeping pills. My gorgeous, full of fun, best friend and only confidant was gone.  I blamed myself totally.  Two lives changed and one beautiful life gone for ever all because of my actions.  It couldn't get worse.......

DARK DAZE.....(part 3)

You had the grace to hold yourself
While those around you crawled
They crawled out of the woodwork
And they whispered into your brain
They set you on the treadmill
And they made you change your name
And it seems to me you lived your life
Like a candle in the wind
Never knowing who to cling to
When the rain set in

And that's how it seemed in the months following my arrest.  While only Matty and Betty knew what had happened neither of them were  there for me when I really needed them.

Matty would get angry when I fell into depression and tried to explain my fears for my future.  I guess he felt guilty and didn't want to be reminded that it was his actions that had gotten me into  the situation.  Likewise with Betty.  Not only that but one of the reasons I loved Betty so much was because of his optimism and happy go lucky nature.  When I really needed someone to sympathise with me and hold me, Betty would laugh it off and in his typical, outback Australian style say 'it'll be right love'!

My only solace and time for reflection was when I was out alone with my beautiful cocker spaniel.  We would walk for miles around Iron Cove - one of the bays in Sydney Harbour which my suburb fronted onto.  Here I could think, breathe and enjoy both the solitude of our long walks through the parks and along the water and pretend that I was a 'normal person'.  My dog Toby was my only truly faithful companion who never left my side or hurt me.

I was working harder and longer hours than ever before.  Covering 8 shifts and also doing most of the running for the new parlour.  I was organizing the rosters and staff for there and on busy nights constantly juggling boys and drivers between parlours.  I also had their laundry to do as although Colin was supposed to bring it back with him on his shifts at Brett's, he always managed to bring it on the day when I took over from him claiming that he had been too busy to get it done.

I was smoking marijuana and taking cocaine in outrageous quantities.  I look back and don't know how I did it.  Here I was facing a two year stint in prison yet managing not only to run the busiest gay brothel in Sydney but also to maintain a professional manner which was recognized by clients not only in Sydney but from around the world.  All the time I was terrified and living in a drug induced haze.

The life - changing event came, just like everything seemed to in my life, when I was feeling 'on top of the world'.  It was a busy Saturday night.  I had been working since 4pm Friday afternoon and probably had less than 3 hours sleep.  Both parlours were flat out and in the middle of it all I get a phone call from Colin saying that he needed Matty to drive one of the boys to an out call in a suburb about 30 kms away.

It was about two hours later, in the busiest of times that night, and I started to get phone  calls from the boy I had thrown out for sharing a needle with Matty.  He was still working at the other parlour and I knew that he still had it in for me.  So when he started to tell me that Matty was there with Louise having sex with her I initially laughed it off.  Not that Matty wouldn't have said no, but I just thought the boy was trying to make me jealous.  Everyone knew how much I loved Matty and how jealous I was of anyone trying to make a pass at him - and god knows they did.

The calls continued on and off for the next 2 hours.  When the phone rang I never knew if it was a client or the boy again trying to upset me. By this time Matty had been away for over 4 hours and I started having suspicions.  I was flat out with clients and phone calls and the last thing I needed was the annoyance of this boy trying to upset me.  I rang Colin to complain and he calmly told me that Louise and Matty were both drunk and in one of the rooms together.

This was the last straw.  Betty was there and was goading me to go over and sort out the issue.  One of the other boys was also happy to go with me and help out.  By this time I had decided that both the boy and Colin were lying but was so furious that I wanted to teach them a lesson.  I had a key for the parlour, so with one of the boys I grabbed a taxi and we headed over.

The parlour was on a busy main road above a set of shops with a street entrance door and a long, steep flight of stairs leading the upstairs rooms.  No -one heard me coming.  I walked into the reception room only to find a group of boys, including Matty and Louise sitting calmly chatting and drinking whiskey.  I remember it was whiskey because it was this bottle which I picked up by it's neck, and after saying 'excuse me' to Louise swung it into the boys head and knocked him unconscious.

The shock in the room was stunning.  Nobody knew what to say or do, until I again swung the bottle, this time at Colin.  It was then that one of the bigger boys grabbed me and stopped me.  I managed to calm down and explain to Louise what had been happening all night and that not only was I upset about the allegations but I was also angry that the two boys had done their utmost to interrupt the parlour.  

Louise was cool and understanding.  While the other boys tended to the now conscious boy, who had a large cut on the side of his head, Louise took me aside and said she totally understood my reaction but that it was obviously not the best thing to do.  She asked me if I wanted to go home and let Betty finish my shift but I said no.  So I went back to Brett's, feeling a whole lot better. Got really stoned with the young boy who had come to back me up and we had really wild sex.

The following day was quiet and although everyone knew what had happened, very little was said.  In fact all the boys went out of their way to keep off the topic, everyone bought grass for me, and I even had a phone call from Colin apologizing.  Like a fool I accepted his apology and even apologized back for trying to hit him.

I finished my shift and went home.  Betty was doing reception at Brett's that night and around 7pm rang me to see if Matty was free to do a driving job.  Matty left and I was alone watching TV and smoking a bong when I heard a car pull into our driveway.  When I heard not one but two doors closing I immediately became suspicious and walked up the hallway to check who was coming.

My bedroom door was open and as I neared the front door, I could see through my bedroom window 3 large shadowy figures moving quietly across the front porch.  I knew what was coming.  BANG!  The front door flew open and three enormous Maori thugs burst in and one of them pinned me against the wall.

They wanted to know if I was Ricky.  I told them that my name was Brett and that Ricky was out.  One of them hit me across the face and then they dragged me through the house checking every room.  Finding no - one they again asked me if I was Ricky.  Again I told them that Ricky had gone out and if they didn't believe me they could check the car-port and see that the car wasn't there.

This seemed to satisfy them and with one more hard slap across my face they left.  Shaking with fear but more concerned for my dog who was in the back yard barking wildly I headed out to comfort him.  BANG! The door flew open again and this time I had no escape.

The three 'thugs' were very professional.  First they told me that they knew I was Ricky as Louise was waiting outside in the car and confirmed my identity from their description.  Secondly they told me that although I had been very clever they were there to give me a beating.  One of them held a long plastic zip pull in his hand - the type that was used for starting lawn mowers.  It was made of hard plastic and had serrated teeth all along it.  When they went to grab me I told them that they didn't need to hold me.  I stood there and let them whip me across the face. Once, twice, three times.  It hurt like hell and I could feel the blood already starting to run down my face.

But I was to proud to show either fear or pain.  This probably saved me from a much worse beating and possibly life long disfigurement on my beautiful face.  After the third strike one of them asked if I had learnt my lesson.  'You've got guts' he said.  Ironically enough they even apologized for 'doing their job'!

They left as quickly as they came.  I was a total mess.  Panic stricken, in shock and immense pain.  My face had three jagged, bleeding cuts and my cheek was already beginning to swell and bruise from where they had slapped me.  It would be two long and terrifying hours before Matty returned.  By this time I had bathed myself and iced my bruises.  I had also smoked two mull bowls of marijuana and taken I don't know how many of Betty's Serapax.

I would never see Brett's again.  One life had already changed and two more were about to......

DARK DAZE.....(part 2).

My life is over and it doesn't matter how I cry.
My tears it seems are a waste of time.
Am I strong enough to see it through?
Those crazy days that I've been through.....

In the first few days after my arrest that's how my life seemed.  Suddenly, after years of living in total hedonism, where all pleasures were not only on offer, but also seemingly overlooked by the authorities, my lifestyle had caught up with me in a big way.

It didn't help when I contacted a very expensive and reputed Sydney solicitor.  After hearing my story he basically told me just what the police had said.  With my confession and the fact that Matty was a minor he said the best I could hope for would be 2 years incarceration in a supervised wing.  That meant I wouldn't be thrown in with the regular inmates but would get to serve my time with 'special prisoners' where my safety would be guaranteed as best as was possible


Ironically, I would be placed with Abe Saffron (who I was sure had been responsible for Billy's death all those years ago) and the nameless police officer who had already played a large part in my life - again connected to Billy's death.

In desperation I turned to the one person who could possibly help me.  Throughout my childhood my parents had been active members of one of the local political parties.  They not only joined the local branch but hosted fundraising parties and at every election, both state and federal, were actively handing out pamphlets to gain voters.  I had helped them on many occasions.

Even more ironic was that the man I chose to turn to had been having a 'platonic' relationship with my mother and even at the time this was still going on.  I had no idea of this and it wasn't until this year (almost 30 years later) that I found out this information from my Aunty.

All this time I had been the one member of the family living a double life, deceiving people as to my lifestyle and thinking I was the black sheep!  My mother had done it so well.  I can clearly remember in my early teenage years when we all (my sisters and I) thought mum was getting close to our local state representative.  He was always at our house, helping host parties and carrying on such a close friendship with my mother that even my father began to question her.

It turned out that this was a clever front played perfectly by mother and by our Federal member (who late went on to become a Frontbencher in the government).  The relationship lasted for years and it was only this man's fear of my father that apparently prevented him from leaving his wife and becoming my mothers lover!

So I rang his office and made an appointment to see him.  It was the first time in at least 6 years I had seen him . Matty and I arrived and I was in such a state of both distress, fear and humiliation that I couldn't even speak.  He let Matty do all the talking.  He wasn't impressed, in fact he was very angry with me, but promised to do what he could to help.  The only condition was that he would ring my parents and tell them what I had done.

Back home I waited for the call from my parents. Now, knowing what I know about my mother and this man, I realize why I was so shocked at my parents unexpected reaction.

All my life I had been used to my father blowing up for the slightest reason, using his fists and words to hurt us.  My mother was always the one who tried to rationalize the situation and calm things down.  I got a totally opposite reaction.  After receiving a bitter and hurtful response from my mother- who was ready to disown me, my father eventually took the phone and calmly told me he was very disappointed but 'what was done was done' and we had to work out the best solution.  Between him and the 'politician' we arranged a new solicitor who was much more understanding and positive about what outcomes could be achieved.

So for the next year I followed my new solicitors instructions. I applied for unemployment benefits and regularly attended the social security offices each week - superficially so it looked like I was keen to get 'legal employment'.  Three times a week I had to report to the local police station to sign as part of my bail conditions.

Luckily the days for reporting were all days when I was not rostered at Brett's.  So I used to walk my dog the 2km and back to the station to sign in.  I left the dog tied outside on the police station fence and within weeks the police were giving him treats each time I arrived. 

 Out of all the people who could have supported me I can honestly say that the then serving officers at Leichhardt Police Station were the most supportive and friendly.  Even on my last visit before my sentencing they all wished me well and showed me their report which basically stated that I had always attended as per my bail conditions and also that in their opinion 'Richard was a decent young man who had gone off the tracks due to his family and personal past and that they could see no reason to believe he would repeat this offence, nor did he pose any threat to society'.

It's amazing how some things stick in your head forever.  I must have looked pathetic on that day.  Walking back home with my dog, tears streaming down my face, wishing that it was the Leichhardt police who would sentence me.

Of course I hadn't changed my lifestyle at all.  In fact my coping strategy was to become even more drug and sex dependant during the time I was awaiting trial.
Louise had opened a new parlour which was basically a B&D parlour for gay men.  She gave Colin the job of managing and Brett took over the extra shifts.  They both still worked at Brett's boys but Louise took them off two shifts and gave me these to cover.  Luckily with an increased wage which I desperately needed to cover my solicitors expenses.

So now I was working 8 out of 14 twelve hour shifts a week.  Brett's was my little baby.  My home away from home.  My source of income, both from my amazing wage (not too mention client tips) and the increase in the amount of marijuana we were all now smoking (and the boys buying from me).  I was spending more time there than at home. New boys were coming daily to ask for work and I had sex with nearly every one of them.  Those I didn't think suitable were sent on to the new parlour.

Matty who now was working in a regular 9 - 5 job would visit each evening I was there.  I would duck out in the early afternoon on my double shifts to buy food which I cooked there.  Quite often cooking for the other boys as well.  It was during one of these outings when I returned to find Matty and one of the new boys shooting up speed in the back room.

I have stated earlier that I believed I had psychic abilities and this was another of those times when deep down I could see the outcome, or so I thought.  The boy, I knew was a heroin addict, but he had been hired on the proviso that he wouldn't use while at work.  For the 2 or so weeks he had been at Brett's he had kept his promise and turned up for every shift straight.  He was happy to spend $20 or $40 on marijuana to get him through his shift.

With this dreaded premonition I reacted in the only way I could.  I slapped Matty hard across the face and grabbed the needle and speed and threw them out onto the street.  The boy I told to get out and not come back.

Less than two hours later Louise was around wanting to know what had happened.  When I told her she said the boy had immediately gone to the new parlour, where Colin had given him a job, claiming that I had hit him and thrown him out because he had brought marijuana onto the premises and that I had told him only I was allowed to deal drugs at Brett's.

On speaking to the other workers, Louise said she believed my side of the story but had to confirm it (even though she said she hadn't believed the boy originally).

It's amazing how one incident can have such a dramatic impact upon your life.  One minute I was out innocently shopping for dinner only to return to a crisis that would turn out to be life shattering.  In one way which I had foreseen, but in anther way that I was totally unprepared for and that would change my life in ways that I could never imagine....... in fact it would change 3 lives forever!

DARK DAZE.....(part 1).

Is this the real life?
Is this just fantasy?
Caught in a landslide,
No escape from reality.

Our lives were a mixture of fantasy and reality but the landslide came upon us in April of 1987 and from then on the next 6 months would be a slow, unseen slide into the unknown.  What I could see coming I tried desperately to hide through denial and drugs.

Betty had always been excessive in her use of pills, but somehow had always managed to keep it together.  One Saturday afternoon he arrived at the parlour in a totally psychotic state.  Crying, screaming and terrified of god knows what.
After 20 minutes we decided that no amount of calm talking was making any difference and Matty drove Betty to the nearest hospital.

On his return Matty told us that the doctors said that Betty had a pre-existing mental condition and had been on prescription medication for many years.  I assume these days it would be similar to being bi-polar.  Any the doctors explained that Betty's stopping regular medication and replacing it with an increasing amount of pills and chemicals had triggered a panic attack.  They would keep her in hospital for observation for two days.

Satisfied that Betty was receiving supervised medical attention we continued working that night (albeit in a rather shocked state).  The following morning Matty and I returned home just after 7am - Colin had come in early to do the Sunday shift to allow us to visit Betty in Hospital.  Arriving home we found our elderly neighbour waiting for us outside our gate.

The front door was open, my bedroom windows were open, all the lights were on.....Our neighbour explained that Betty had arrived home in the early hours of the morning in a taxi and had made quite  a disturbance.  Apparently scaring our neighbour enough that he was too afraid to go near the house but had sat up on his front porch since 4am watching our house as it was open and clearly an easy target for burglars.

After thanking him we went inside, closing doors, windows and turning off lights throughout the house.  We found Betty passed out on her bed.  I rang the hospital and they said that he had just walked out sometime in the night, refusing any more help.  Matty was so annoyed that he demanded we take the day off and go for a drive.

Against my better judgement and my worry for leaving Betty alone, I knew Matty was serious and decided a few hours away wouldn't do anyone any harm.  Betty was sleeping like a log, the dog was fed and watered, and it was a beautiful Autumn day - perfect for a drive in the country.

I couldn't have been more wrong.  Our short country trist turned into a 3 hour drive to Canberra where we visited all the sites, had a lovely lunch on the lake front and did all the touristy things.  It was around 2pm and we decided to head back home when Matty detoured and headed for a beautiful looking pine forest on the outskirts of the city.

We had barely parked the car to get out for a walk when out of nowhere a police car arrived and headed straight for us.  I wasn't unduly concerned as for about the only time in years I hadn't even brought a joint with me.  The police officer approached us and asked us what were we doing in the forest and then demanded to search the car.  I should have realised by the look on Matty's face that something was about to happen.

When the police officer opened the car boot I nearly died.  Sitting inside was my leather bag which I knew had all my marijuana inside.  I hadn't put the bag there but found out later that Matty had put it inside as he was worried that Betty might leave the house open again while we were away.  The police officer asked whose bag it was and when I admitted it was mine he made me turn out the contents, including a plastic bag containing 27 foil sticks of marijuana and 1 block of hash.

These he quickly took and returned to his car where he radioed for back up.  Then he handcuffed us both and we were both driven to Canberra Police Headquaters.  Separated and interrogated by numerous police officers.

Having lived so long in Sydney and living in a society where drugs were the norm I had no idea of the trouble I was in.  I freely admitted to owning the drugs but adamantly denied that I had come specifically to Canberra to sell them.  After all the police had told us our every move since entering the city limits so in my mind they knew we had just come as tourists.

I was fairly calm until one of them asked to search me and asked 'is there anything in your pockets that might give me AIDS'?  I told him he was an idiot and obviously knew nothing about contracting the disease.  This didn't go down very well at all.

Worse was to follow.  Other officers arrived and told me that Matty had said in his statement that we had smoked drugs at home before we left and worse still asked me if I knew that Matty was underage!  It turned out that even though he told everyone he was nearly 19, and looked it, he was in fact only 17 years old.  Even I was shocked (and infuriated)!

After I was interrogated for over 3 hours I was eventually charged and fingerprinted.  Possession of illegal drugs, Possession of a Class A drug (the hash), Deem supply of illegal drugs and corruption of a minor!  I was thrown into the police holding cells in a state of total shock and left.

The cell was one of 6.  I had no idea that Matty was in the furthest cell away from me and spent the night crying and shivering.  The cell was unheated and the temperature was about 2 degrees Celsius.  It was so cold that I took the vinyl mattress to cover myself and slept on the bare wooden bed rungs.

In the morning the cell doors were unlocked and I fell into Matty's arms.  He had spent the night in a heated cell with blankets and been given a meal.  When breakfast arrived they gave Matty his - through the security grill.  When I stepped forward to take mine I was told to 'stand back poofter' and then the policeman laughingly dropped my tray onto the floor where my breakfast spilled.

An hour later we were taken up to the courtroom and again placed in a holding cell.  It couldn't have got worse.  That particular weekend was the annual Canberra Drag Car Racing event and the holding cell was full of semi drunk, violent yobbo's (rednecks) who proceeded to torment me verbally, punch me and even kick me - all in full view of the supervising police officer.

When the court defendant finally arrived he immediately demanded that I be released from the communal cell and placed into a separate cell.....I don't think I could have stayed another minute without serious physical injury.

So I was charged with all of the above accounts and thankfully released on bail.  My conditions were that I leave Canberra immediately but report 3 times a week to my local police station until my trial.

Matty wasn't charged. The 3 hour drive home to Sydney took us less than 2 hours.  Thankfully I had some marijuana hidden in my room where I stayed for the remainder of the night, even refusing to talk with Matty.  I didn't care about Betty's condition.  I just wanted to die.  The final words of the police prosecutor had been 'you are looking at a minimum of two years hard labour in a maximum security prison'!  My life of abandon and self pleasure had come crashing down all around me.

MADAME DAZE.....(part 2).

1987 and I was living the dream.  Betty and I had turned Brett's Boys into a magical place of fun, friends and financial surplus.  Louise was making almost as much from us as she was from her famous Pink Flamingo Parlour in Kings Cross.  So much so that she even had Betty and I covering reception shifts there in order to increase her takings.

I was making a name for myself as 'the best brothel manager' in Sydney.  Clients would ring from London, New York, Tokyo, San Fransisco... to book boys in advance because they knew I would only select the right boy for them. If their type of boy wasn't rostered on the day they were coming I would make sure that their type was available.  To ensure there was no rivalry amongst the workers I charged an extra $10 to the client which went into a kitty which we all shared at the end of the week.  I even liaised with our rival parlours and we shared boys if the need arose.  This was a system which benefited everyone and stopped the constant rivalry between parlours.

I was earning a fortune.  Louise was paying me $500 a week, I would earn at least that selling marijuana, and most weeks would get an extra $100 in tips given to my by grateful clients.  I even had a few regular clients who wanted to see me - again I always put $10 from my earnings into the 'kitty' to keep the workers happy.  Of course it all went as quickly as I earned it.  Taxi fares, dinner out at lavish restaurants, shouting the 'boys' to a night out in Oxford St, clothes, new furnishing for our new rented house, buying speed and cocaine to keep me going through my double and very busy shifts.......

During the short time Matty and I stayed at my parents house while my dad was recovering Betty had found us a beautiful house in a suburb a few kilometres away from Brett's Boys.  This was in Haberfield, which was basically the first suburb outside of the 'inner city' heading west.  Situated at the bottom of a beautiful part of Sydney Harbour (Iron Cove) it was Sydney's first 'planned' housing estate built largely in the late 1890's and comprised ornate 'Federation style' houses all boasting large blocks of land, tree lined streets and 'no back lanes'.  A far cry from the crammed, run-down, narrow and cheap Victorian terrace houses that formed a large part of Inner Sydney at the time.

Our house was gorgeous.  I had the front room which had arched windows and overlooked the covered, ornately tiled verandah.  Matty had the second bedroom and behind that was a large lounge which led to a smaller dining room with a third bedroom on the side finishing up with a kitchen and back covered verandah.  All the rooms were large and had ornately moulded ceiling panels, lead light windows with sash frames and original Edwardian lights complete with hanging cord switches.

Betty and I even hired a landscape gardener to turn our front garden into a lovely English style garden complete with box hedging, topiary rose bushes and an abundance of sweet smelling perennial flowers.  Although we didn't spend much time there, we always enjoyed returning and chilling out.  Like a regular family, cooking, cleaning, gardening and enjoying the wonderful environment that the suburb offered.

Matty bought me a new dog.  Another Cocker Spaniel who I called Toby and who would be with me for the next 15 years.  My first dog 'Nelson' had mysteriously vanished one afternoon from Brett's Boys when I had gone out shopping to buy munchies for the boys and Colin was on reception.  I returned laden with cakes and pies and Colin told me that Nelson had accidentally run out the back gate when one of the boys had left it open. At the time I was naive enough to believe him. Future events would lead me to believe that Colin had planned it all to get at me.  Hours of combing the streets and door knocking brought no luck and after two weeks of posting reward signs around the neighbourhood we realized that he had gone for good.

Matty was working at his customs job, 9- 5 five days a week and on Friday and Saturday nights would earn extra money as our 'second' driver.  Kristy McNichols boyfriend was always our 'first driver' taking the workers on out calls.  When he was engaged then Matty would do the job.  This was much more efficient than using taxis, cheaper for the clients, and ensured that the workers had someone waiting outside in case of any trouble arising.

I was enjoying every moment of the day.  Glowing from the praises of our clients and Louise, swamped with friendship from the workers, permanently out of it on one kind of drug or another and money flowing in and out like I'd never seen before.  Sex was on hand whenever I wanted.  Either from keen, would be employees or the boys themselves, keen to curry my favour.  I didn't use my position to gain these gratitudes.  In fact I made sure that I was fair in every way.  Rotating the boys on slow and busy shifts, but always making sure I had  the right combination of boys available for every shift.

Matty and I had a strange kind of relationship.  We slept apart, but spent every moment we had together, whether at work or at home.  He knew I was having regular sex with boys every day and mostly every night I was at the parlour but didn't seem to mind.  Strangely though, if he ever thought I was getting too close to a particular boy, or tried to bring one home with me he would suddenly become affectionate and loving.  He used to quietly whisper in my ear that he wanted to have sex with me that night and true to his word it would happen.  It was like we had never been apart - until the next morning when he went off to work as if nothing had happened at all.

We had few dramas at our new Parlour.  One boy arrived at the front door accompanied by the police.  Apparently he had stolen a car and managed to crash it into five parked cars whilst driving it.  The police told us that he had given our address as his residential address.  Betty, god bless her, always at my side in a crisis, and without hesitation said ' Never seen him in my life before Officer' before abruptly slamming the door in the policeman's face!

Israel got alcoholic poisoning and his liver erupted before our eyes.  That was when we called the ambulance and he ended up in a re-hab centre, for which he never forgave me, and left our lives shortly after.

One of the boys I was dallying with started seeing a female prostitute and bringing her back to the parlour to get stoned with us.  I didn't mind and was as nice as pie to her.  Until the day she came in 'smacked to the eyeballs' on heroin and I told her she was no longer welcome.  She tried to attack me but I slapped her to the ground and told her to 'piss off slut'.  Little did I know that she then returned to her own parlour and her pimp put a hit call on me.

Luckily Louise got wind of this and (I found out months later) spent hours calming him down and paying him off, but not before we had a drive by shooting which was all a bit of a blur.  One moment we were all bonging and laughing in the back room and the next minute there was a squeal of tyres outside and the sound of a gunshot and breaking glass.  They had fired a bullet straight through the lounge window which lodged into the back wall, amidst screams of the drag queens and boys who were sitting watching videos inside.  Thankfully the windows were well above head height and no injuries occurred....but it was a shock all the same.

One morning we awoke to find that all the boys bags had been ransacked and money and valuables stolen.  This was the first time at Brett's that anything like this had occurred.  We always had an unwritten code that we never stole from each other.  Even though I had my bag full of drugs and nearly $900 in personal cash in the house while I was sleeping, nothing was taken.  It didn't take long for us to see that the 'thief' had also raided the fridge and stolen the eggs and vegetables!!!!  We only had one vegetarian prostitute working for us!  Poor Glenda, he arrived looking as if butter wouldn't melt, and I immediately confronted him with the evidence to which he admitted.  He was such a part of our lives that he was forgiven and some of the boys even gave him money, which he desperately needed to cover his debts......that was the wonderful nature of most of the boys I worked with.

Not long after I would see another, conniving and evil side of some of these boys that would leave me virtually penniless, scared and facing a world of uncertainty.......