At the end of the work day on Friday, having had more than enough, Samuel decided to seek some relief over a bit of camaraderie and a few beers, and automatically he headed for his favoured drinking hole, The Brown’s.

When he walked in to discover Betty at the piano, his first instinct was to walk right out again. But she seemed in fine form, playing up a storm, smiling flirtatiously at the men gathered about the piano, American soldiers for the most part, so he stayed.

Skirting around the fringes of the lounge, carefully avoiding her line of sight, he arrived at the bar where Val and Jill were serving. He headed directly for Val.

‘G’day, Captain,’ she said, ‘what’ll it be, a beer?’

‘Yeah, a beer would be great, thanks.’

As Val delivered his beer, he glanced over towards the piano, where Betty was chatting brightly while she played, still all smiles and flirtation.

‘How’s she doing?’ he quietly asked.

‘Putting on a brave face,’ Val answered, ‘as you can see.’

He gave a brief nod, enquiring no further, and Val offered no further information, bustling off instead to serve other customers.

But as she busied herself, Val’s mind was on Betty. Oh yes, she thought, Betty’s putting on a brave face all right. She’s a casualty of war, that girl, and she knows it, what’s more. She’ll get bugger all answers about Kasey’s death. An accident, my arse! Christ, you’ve got to admire the way she’s handling it though.

‘I hope I’m pregnant,’ Betty had announced just the previous night when she and Val had sat in the upstairs office counting the takings and doing the books. Thursday was always tallying-up night, staff pay day being on Fridays. Betty had refused any time off. To the contrary, she insisted upon working harder than ever.

‘I hope I’m bloody well pregnant,’ she repeated defiantly, ‘that’d teach them all a thing or two, wouldn’t it.’

The girl can’t be serious, Val thought, although she couldn’t help feeling a stab of alarm. ‘But you played things safe, didn’t you, lovey,’ she gently queried. ‘You used condoms, didn’t you?’

‘Yeah, but so what?’ Betty was more than defiant now, she was positively belligerent. ‘Hell, those things often fail, they’re not foolproof, you know. Well, I hope like mad I’m pregnant! A little brown baby, that’d show ’em all, wouldn’t it. That’d get ’em going all right!’

Betty was actually serious. Her period was due any day now and she was praying it wouldn’t come. What she wouldn’t give for a little brown baby, a piece of Kasey! Who cared what people thought! But she wasn’t going to let the hurt show, not to anyone. Anger made things easier.

‘Oh yeah,’ she gave a mirthless laugh, ‘that’d really get ’em talking, wouldn’t it, if I popped out a little brown baby.’ A toss of the head. ‘Well, who knows?’ A careless shrug. ‘You just wait and see.’