Val’s proposal was simple. She’d have the pub’s old wood-heated laundry tub transferred to the boatshed – they needed a new copper at The Brown’s anyway – and she’d have a brick kiln built to house it, and a chimney that would lead outside.

‘You’ll need to move into the other boatshed, you and Jill,’ she said, ‘this one’ll have to be the laundry because of the water tank.’

Edie didn’t say anything, she just let her mate rattle on, but eagle eyes trained on Val, she wasn’t missing a trick.

‘And the sheds’ll need to be smartened up,’ Val continued. ‘We have to be responsible for their maintenance. I’ll arrange for the materials to be delivered and you and Jill can sand everything back and whitewash the both of them. What do you say?’

‘Where does the laundry come from?’ Edie got straight to the point.

‘From The Brown’s to start with,’ Val said, ‘you can do the pub’s laundry here. I’ll get Baz to deliver it and collect it once a week.’ Baz had recently joined the ranks at The Brown’s and was bound to prove invaluable throughout the exercise, Val thought, he seemed to have contacts everywhere. ‘And then we’ll spread the word around. “Best-ever laundry in Townsville”,’ she concluded with a true salesman’s pitch. ‘People always want the best, Edie, as you and I both know.’

Edie liked the sound of that, but she didn’t want to be seen as giving in too easily. ‘And who’ll do the rooms at the pub like I do ’em now?’

‘I’ll hire a young Palm Island girl as a chambermaid,’ Val said, ‘there are plenty around seeking employment.’

‘Yeh,’ Edie approved of that idea, ‘good to hire a Palm Island girl.’

Val dumped her empty mug on the floor and stood. ‘Partners, then?’ She held out her hand.

‘Yep.’ Edie stood and they shook. ‘Partners.’

Val’s principal aim had been to keep Edie secure in her ‘freedom of lifestyle’, but as they shook hands she couldn’t help thinking that perhaps this might even prove a workable investment.

The plan was quickly and smoothly put into action, all thanks due to Baz. Having joined forces with Val Callahan several months previously and having recognised her value, Baz Taylor was only too keen to prove his worth and cement their relationship.

‘Sure, Val,’ he said, embracing the laundry idea wholeheartedly, although to him it sounded damn stupid. ‘I can line up the kiln for you. Got a builder mate who owes me a favour.’

The favours Baz called in and the barter deals he made were invariably an exchange for gambling debts that had got out of hand. He knew how to play the mugs who attended his two-up school and poker games.