Mommy Was a Whore Ch. 04

"Well it is inconvenient right now dear. I'm about to make jam."

"Help me now and I'll come back and help you make jam. This is so important to me Mrs Ross; I am almost bursting in excitement. It could be a major breakthrough in my quest to seek justice for Sergeant Palin."

"Oh him! I think I would rather make jam."

"And how is your illustrious grandfather remembered in this city Mrs Ross?"

The Ross Reservoir systems of course...oh, I see. Go talk to Salty while I powder my nose."

"Ohmigod, here it is," Gina cried. "I'm so excited. Point me to the restroom."

The admission record read: 'Mr Thomas James Palin, 32 Pilcher Street, aged 76, No next of kin. Contract Mr Silas Youngerman, 32 Pilcher Street. Suspected pneumonia. Prognosis not good. Walks with a cane. Appears undernourished but clean and clothes in good condition. Mr Youngerman left ten dollars towards patient's upkeep'.

"Well, a Palin certainly existed in this town," said Mrs Ross when the flushed Gina returned. "With the age given it strongly suggests he was born in or about 1833 and that ought to help track down his birthplace and perhaps even his recruitment into the army. Get that recruitment date and army records should provide even information for your profile on Mr Palin."

"Sergeant Palin."

"Oh, quite right dear."

"This is brilliant. I have a positive record."

"Bring the book over here dear and I'll photocopy it for you."

"Oh thank you. Two copies because Harry and the boys will want a copy.

"Harry and the boys?"

"Harry West and..."

"Say no more. Those cantankerous men are in opposition to us and think they are historical gurus. They claim they don't like women so can't work alongside us. We commission them as investigators from time to time."

Gina adopted a kind smile. "The guys are actually quite characters, just grumpy old men and Harry is the worst but I rather like him. It took me half an hour to get used to him."

"Yes and is a toad. Got me drunk on whisky once and I vomited all over my husband. Oh yes, I know him well; he's married to my half-sister Dorothy."

Screwing up her nose Gina said, "But Dot is much older..."

"My father married a much younger woman after his first wife died and thus I came along, nineteen years after Dorothy. That is the kind of thing that throws amateur historians when they are trying to compose family trees."

"Yes, I can see that. I'll call Harry tonight with this information."

"He's away dear."

"I know, staying overnight at the state capital doing research on Sergeant Palin for me. I have his number."

"Are you paying Harry's expenses?"

"Yes."

Mrs Ross gave Gina a long look. "This has become more than a bee in the bonnet to you, hasn't it Gina?"

"Yes. It's history Mrs Ross, a missing piece in the history of our city and denied because of what I think is misguided prejudice. It needs to be rectified and it appears I'm the only one willing to pick up the challenge, although people are beginning to gather around me."

"You are an unexpected package Gina. Now let me tell you two things. One, are you aware the derelict stables in Pilcher Street still exist amid a grove of trees and..."

Gina swayed on her feet.

"Are you all right dear?" Mrs Ross said, noticing how white Gina had become.

Gina nodded, holding on to the table.

"And two, I have had a substantial change of mind as a result of your actions and my conversations with you today. Two members will call on you asking you to accept nomination for election as junior vice-president of the society at next month's annual meeting. I must admit I had resisted the patron over this but now have changed my mind. You are a very suitable person, I feel, to lead the incoming younger generation beginning to infiltrate our ranks."

"Oh this is a great honor," Gina said earnestly. "Thank you. I'd like that. Let's return and make jam."

Salty put aside his newspaper and said, "You ladies look victorious."

"We are Salty, we are," said Mrs Ross. "Please return me to my home Salty via 32 Pilcher Street."

"The poorer part of town Mrs Ross? I'm surprised you are aware of its existence."

"The derelict old stables and saddlery on that site were once owned by Gina's great-great-grandfather. We are taking her to what could be her oldest-known ancestral home Salty. On your way and watch out for children and old ladies."

"Yes ma'am."

At the site Salty opened the door for Mrs Ross and Gina. They stood on the footpath and Mrs Ross said, "Off you go dear and take your time. This is a hugely historical moment for you."

* * *

Stepping through overgrown grass and trash, Gina thought she'd hear celestial music but no, the sounds she heard were kids playing, building construction, overly loud amplified music and the dull roar of traffic. Amid the self-grown scrubby trees was the heavy solid-wood framed structure of the building. Vandals over the years had smashed windows and even some of the window frames had been taken away. The roof had fallen in.

Fearing rats and spiders Gina didn't venture in far. Much of the weatherboarding had rotted and fallen into pieces. The concrete floor had cracked in all directions and eroded a little and she came across a rusty iron lid of a crude floor safe. There was no key of course but she suspected what was there: five six-guns carefully wrapped in oilcloth and bounded in heavier wrapping. She decided everything should remain as it was because not only was it a memorial to her great-great-grandfather and his family would have also lived there but it was the last known home of the probable founder of the city, Sergeant Tom...er Sergeant Tom Palin.

She didn't weep, but came close to it. Gina decided although her children might hate her because she'd been a whore and had learned the tag 'once a whore always a whore', she would enjoy bringing them to this spot when they were old enough to understand. And who knows, whores might be as common as housewives by that time.

Gina closed her eyes. If there was no celestial singing she might hear horses. But no. However the happy shouts of children playing nearby were almost as good.

"Are you all right dear?" Mrs Ross said, taking Gina into her arms.

"Yes, I'm fine. Sad but incredibly happy, if that's possible."

"Yes, mixed emotions. This has been a lovely day for you. We'll let you off jam-making."

"No, I'd like to be with you and talk. Salty, could you pick me up from Mrs Ross's house as your final fare for the day?"

He performed his now familiar smile that seemed to roll over his lined face. "You are already booked in with Salty Gina."

"Any idea who owns this property?" Gina asked.

"Well, somewhere along the way it's slipped through the fingers of your family," Mrs Ross said. "The council now owns it, seized in lieu of unpaid taxes."

"Then I can buy it?"

"Probably and perhaps for just the amount of accrued back taxes. Will you build a house after clearing the site?"

"No, I'll have it fenced and hand it back to the city on the condition the land be declared an historic reserve and a notice be erected and maintained stating that this property, Silas Youngerman Stables and Saddlery – I'll find the actual name it was called – was the last home of Sergeant Thomas Palin, the person believed to have founder the town of Palin in 1871. He worked and then lived here until his death in 1909."

"I'll believe the council will cooperate dear but not necessarily without opposition."

Gina said sternly, "Councilors who oppose won't know what's hit them. There'll be a public outcry against them, stirred on by me."

Salty caught the eye of Mrs Ross in his interior mirror and winked and she winked back.

"I do declare this project to preserve that site we just visited is in very capable hands," Mrs Ross said, patting Gina's hand. "I don't know how we're going to keep up with you young lady, you go at it like a whirlwind."

To be Continued