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assortment of lean-tos that in a strange way seemed more homely. It was as though an almighty hand had drawn a line. She belonged on one side and the other side was for Jack in his smart suit and bowtie. A far cry from the boy she remembered with the cloth cap and the knees out of his trousers. The war had changed Jack; maybe Ted would have turned into the same suave man-about-town if he’d come home. Jack and Ted had always said they’d stick together through thick and thin.
    Knowing she had a roof over her head and a job sorted Dolly unpacked her few belongings with a feeling of relief, then poured some water from the china jug into the bowl on the washstand and sluiced her face and hands. She’d think about Jack later.

Chapter 4
    Jack rammed his narrow brimmed hat onto his head and buttoned up his overcoat. A squall of damp rain hit him as he opened the door and he lifted his collar. Regardless of the weather he needed to get out of the cloying atmosphere of Millie’s and think. He turned his back on Oxford Street and headed into the maze of streets around the back of St Vincent’s Hospital.
    When Dolly walked into Number Fifty-Four he hadn’t recognised her for a moment. She’d grown from the child he remembered and changed into a damned attractive woman and that’s where the problem lay. She’d be safe enough for a week or two while she got to know the place, any longer and Millie would be making plans for her. He’d seen the flash in Dolly’s eyes and it could only mean trouble.
    Stifling a groan he skirted a couple of blokes sitting in the gutter under a streetlight sharing a bottle of something dubious. The new legislation around licensing hours had turned the city on its heels. The six o’clock swill saw every man cramming the last swig of beer down his throat before the pubs shut their doors, then the drinkers turned to the sly-grog shops springing up throughout Darlinghurst. And it wasn’t only grog. A man could get pretty much whatever he wanted in the back streets — five shillings for a twist of snow, a woman for not much more and a bullet if you looked sideways at the wrong person. Darlinghurst made Millie’s up-market brothel in Paddington look like a safe haven.
    Not safe enough for Dolly though. Why couldn’t she have stayed in Wollombi? With her father gone, life must have become easier. His fists clenched as he remembered the black eyes and bruises she’d copped from her father. The thought of someone, anyone, touching her made his blood boil, bringing out an old protective streak he’d forgotten. God only knows what her life must have been like once he and Ted had left.
    Sooner or later she would start asking questions about Ted and he’d have to tell her the whole story — fess up and admit the cock-up. Half an hour with her and all the stuff he’d put behind him reared its ugly head and now he couldn’t even stand his own company. She’d been so pleased to see him, her childlike pleasure nothing short of a kick in the guts.
    Swearing loudly he rapped on the peeling paint of the locked shop door. Yellowing newspaper covered the cracked glass of the front window and blocked any view inside but he knew exactly what he’d find.
    The door opened an inch or two in response to his knock.
    â€˜Susie in?’ Obviously the password hadn’t changed in the last twelve months and the question admitted him to a dingy smoke-filled hallway.
    Wondering if anything at all had changed he shut the door behind him and nodded to the beefy bouncer. Not that he really cared, just as long as he could find something to take his mind off Dolly and Ted. Stop thinking. Stop harping on about what might have been. All he wanted was to turn a few hands of cards and not have to talk and pretend he was something he wasn’t.
    He elbowed his way past a rowdy group lounging against the wall laughing uproariously at nothing and