The Dressmaker Read Online Free PDF

figures rolling through the shadows and shine.
    ‘It’s her. It’s that Myrtle Dunnage – the nerve,’ said Beula.
    ‘Well!’
    ‘Well well well –’
    ‘And Mad Molly!’
    ‘Does Marigold know?’
    ‘NO!’ said Beula, ‘Marigold doesn’t know
anything
!’
    ‘I’d almost forgotten.’
    ‘How could you!’
    ‘The nerve of that girl.’
    ‘This’ll be a treat.’
    ‘The hair …’
    ‘Not natural …’
    ‘They’re coming …’
    ‘The clothes!’
    ‘Oooaaa …’
    ‘Shssss …’
    As the outcasts rolled towards them, Lois reached for her knitting and Beula straightened the homemade jams. Tilly came to a stop with her knees pressed together to stop them shaking, and smiled at the ladies in their elastic stockings and cardigans. ‘Hello.’
    ‘Oh, you gave us a start,’ said Lois.
    ‘If it isn’t Molly and this must be young Myrtle back from … where was it you went to Myrtle?’ said Beula, peering hard at Tilly’s dark glasses.
    ‘Away.’
    ‘How are you these days, Molly?’ asked Lois.
    ‘No point complaining,’ said Molly.
    Molly studied the cakes and Tilly looked at the contents of the hamper: tinned ham, spam, pineapple, peaches, a packet of Tic Tocs, a Christmas pudding, Milo, Vegemite and Rawleighs Salve were all arranged in a wicker basket under red cellophane. The women studied Tilly.
    ‘That’s the raffle prize,’ said Lois, ‘from Mr Pratt for the Football Club. Tickets are sixpence.’
    ‘I’ll just have a cake thank you, the chocolate sponge with coconut,’ said Tilly.
    ‘No fear – not that one, we’ll get septicaemia,’ said Molly.
    Lois folded her arms, ‘Well!’
    Beula puckered her lips and raised her eyebrows.
    ‘What about this one?’ asked Tilly and bit her top lip to stop herself from smiling.
    Molly looked up at the brilliant sunshine, boring like hot steel rods through the holes in the corrugated iron veranda roof, ‘The cream will be rancid, the jam roll’s safest.’
    ‘How much?’ said Tilly.
    ‘Two –’
    ‘Three shillings!’ said Lois, who had made the chocolate sponge, and cast Molly a look that’d start a brushfire. Tilly handed over three shillings and Lois shoved the cake towards Molly, then recoiled. Tilly pushed her mother inside Pratts. ‘Daylight robbery,’ said Molly. ‘That Lois Pickett scratches her scabs and blackheads then eats it from under her nails and she only puts coconut on her cake because of her dandruff, calls herself a cleaner, does Irma Almanac’s house and you just wouldn’t buy anything Beula Harridene made on principle, the type she is …’
    Muriel, Gertrude and Reg froze when Tilly wheeled Molly through the door. They stared as she picked over the sad fruit and vegetable selection and took some cereals from the shelves and handed them to her mother to nurse. When the two women moved to haberdashery, Alvin Pratt rushed from his office. Tilly asked for three yards of the green georgette and Alvin said, ‘Certainly,’ so Muriel cut and wrapped the cloth and Alvin held the brown paper package to his chest and smiled broadly at Tilly. He had brown teeth. ‘Such an unusual green – that’s why it’s discounted. Still, if you’re determined enough you’ll make something of it. A tablecloth perhaps?’
    Tilly opened her purse.
    ‘First you’ll be settling your mother’s unpaid account.’ His smile vanished and he offered one palm.
    Molly studied her fingernails. Tilly paid.
    Outside, Molly jerked her thumb back and said, ‘Trumped up little merchant.’
    They headed for the chemist. Purl, barefoot and hosing the path, turned to stare as they passed. Fred was down in the cellar and as the hose swept over the open trapdoors he yelled and his head popped up at footpath level. He too watched the women pass. Nancy stopped sweeping to stare.
    Mr Almanac was behind his cash register. ‘Good morning,’ said Tilly to his round pink head.
    ‘Good day,’ he mumbled to the floor.
    ‘I need a serum or a