Matthew Flinders' Cat by Bryce Courtenay Read Free Book Online

once he was married than he ever would while single.
    Con couldn’t write in English so Billy had helped him complete the forms to sponsor a migrant girl as well as acted as his referee, signing himself ‘W. D’Arcy O’Shannessy, LLB, QC’.
    Did the street boy even have a female in his life who cared about him? Probably not. If he was a street kid, he’d have left home because of domestic violence from both parents. Where there was a mother present who wasn’t an addict, the kids usually stayed on. It was different with a father, where drunkenness often led to violence and sexual abuse.
    Billy had barely completed the thought when he felt a sharp, agonising pain behind his eyes, so much so that he visibly winced and was forced to his knees, his eyes tightly closed. The last time he’d had a boy to worry about he’d . . .
    The pain in his head increased in intensity until it blocked his thought. Holding his thumb and forefinger to the bridge of his nose, Billy squeezed hard until the pain in his head started to go.
    ‘You orright, myte? Maybe to eat somethings, eh?’ Con asked, peering over the edge of the counter, looking concerned.
    ‘Yeah, fine, right as rain,’ Billy replied, taking a deep breath while slowly straightening up, ‘Touch of the collywobbles.’
    ‘I make you sanwitch, eggs, bacons, lettuce, beetroots, pineapples, what-a-ever-you-wants, my fren.’
    ‘No thanks, Con, this bun’ll do me nicely.’ Billy took the pink bun, placed it in the plastic bag with the yesterday-bread and then into his briefcase. Taking up his coffee, he turned to Con. ‘Thanks, mate, as always I’m truly grateful.’
    Con smiled, his head to one side, ‘It’s a my pleasures, myte.’
    Billy smiled back and added as an afterthought, ‘For the bun as well.’
    Con nodded. ‘Hey, Billy, what’s a mean this words collywobbles?’
    ‘It means you’re a bit dizzy, a bit crook, but then you quickly come good again.’
    ‘Right as rains?’
    ‘Yeah, right as rains.’ Billy turned away from his friend and walked along the Quay to his usual spot in the sun. It was the first time since he’d wakened to the sound of Arthur and Martha quarrelling that he’d been able to pursue his normal routine.

C HAPTER T WO
    Billy made himself comfortable on a bench alongside the Quay and prepared himself for the day to come. He sipped slowly on the container of coffee, still hot and strong, and immediately felt a little better. Coffee was the civilised side of his addictive personality, one of the things that kept him anchored. Well, if not anchored, it allowed him not to drift too far from his mooring. He had discovered that with a caffeine fix laced with six sachets of sugar, he could stave off the need to be waiting for the doors to open at the early-opening pub in Woolloomooloo.
    The story of Trim had succeeded in driving the boy from his head. He absent-mindedly peeled the bright-pink icing off the finger bun, set the bun aside for ammunition, and ate the sticky mess, further satisfying his sugar craving.
    Gulls gathered expectantly at his feet, their beady eyes fixed on the bread. Billy removed several slices from the plastic wrapper and set them beside the bun. He placed his coffee down and waited a few moments until a dozen more gulls had landed before he rose from the bench. The birds scattered anxiously on either side of him as he stepped towards the water’s edge. Removing the remainder of the bread from the wrapper, he hurled it into the air. A frantic squawking was followed by an eruption of spray as birds and bread met the surface of the Harbour together. In less than a minute, not a morsel remained and the small polite waves had returned to slap against the granite wall of the Quay.
    Billy rather liked seagulls. They were the coastal garbage collectors, cleaning up the waterfront and the beaches. The silver gull was Australia’s most ubiquitous seabird and a natural part of the environment. He saw them in every way