Falling Away (11 page)

“You’re being too hard on her, Sam. And you can’t blame her for that. She can’t help it. You know that. We’ve all had to deal with her illness over the years. But if you met her half-way, you’d be pleasantly surprised.”

“I very much doubt it. Because when it comes to her, nothing surprises me, Dad.
Nothing
. Her need for control. Her manipulation. I’m sick of it, Dad.
Really
bloody sick of it.”

He pulls the hat from his face and his eyes are out on stalks. “Steady on. She might be difficult, but she does care.”

I shake my head angrily. “Well, it doesn’t feel that way. And Ben’s got it worse. Far worse. Because
he
succumbs to the pressure to be perfect. I honestly don’t know how he stands it.”

Dad fires across a glary, wounded look, then closes his eyes and re-positions the hat to hide his face. That way he doesn’t have to accept the truth, knowing there’s accuracy in what I say.

And all I really want to do right now is stand up and leave. Smother the anger, rising like bile in my throat. But I don’t. Because it’s Dad.

***

At home, the first thing I do is check where Mum is. I find her in the kitchen, preparing a festive lunch for the prodigal son. Shaken by the conversation with Dad, I slink off to the shower, a safe haven from her wrath. Both Ben
and
Dad have been at me, and no doubt it’s stemmed from her. I hide in my room for what seems an eternity. Avoidance is often the best policy. Especially when it comes to
her
. When Jack arrives I plan to intercept him on the driveway, before he makes it to the door.

At two o’clock his ute pulls into the street. It’s diesel and all rattly like the tray has come loose on the back. Creeping to the front door, I dash outside, taking the front steps two at a time and bolting like a wild horse across the lawn.

Jack looks curiously through the windscreen, seeming to take in my bizarre behaviour all at once. “You okay?”

I jump in beside him. “Yeah, I’m good. Quick ... let’s go,” I break off, motioning for him to reverse.

“Sam!” she calls from the front door, gesticulating for me to come back.

I wind down the window. “Going to pick up my car, Mum.”

She frowns and calls something I thankfully can’t hear.

Jack reverses onto the road, sensing the urgency and taking off fast. So fast the wheels spin on our loose gravel drive. “What’s going on?” he asks when we’re far enough away.

“I’m avoiding my mother. I got in late last night. She stayed up waiting so she’s not too happy.”

He raises a brow in disbelief. “Aren’t you old enough to do what you want?”

“You’d think.” I glance at him, feeling like an explanation is required. Especially as he was involved in the get-away. “She’s not easy, my mother.”

He nods, lowering his brow sympathetically.

“It’s like she wants me to be something I’m not. Something I’m never going to be. And if I was to
become
that something, she wouldn’t be happy. Even then,” I cough, wondering why I’m so emotional.

“That sounds shit, mate,” he says, frowning.

“It is,” I concur, looking out the window. “She judges me, based on what
she
thinks is right, but also on what other people say or do. She has this competitive edge. And a dark side. A
really
dark side. It’s always been there, but I think it’s getting worse.”

“Jeez,” he says, lost for words. After a while he continues. “So what do you mean by a dark side?” he asks tentatively, looking almost a little fearful.

I wonder if I should tell him. Whether to come straight out and say it. We don’t say it much, because verbalising makes it real. Makes it something we’d have to deal with front-on. The insidious affliction eating away at us, like it eats away at her. Daily.

“My mum has depression, Jack. Sometimes she’s fine, but other times she’s so low nothing can retrieve her from the depths of despair. At least at the moment she’s upright.”

Jack glances across with compassion in his eyes. “And when she’s down she’s critical? More so, do you mean?”

“Yeah. Critical, and even a little nasty. This awful bitterness kind of snakes through her, and she goes all remote and stony. Detached, I s’pose. From all of us. Dad, me and Ben.”

Jack gives a shake of his head, lifting his eyebrows as if unsure how to respond. He changes the subject. “So, where did you go last night then?”

“To a lame dance party near Shoal Bay. From the moment I got there I wanted to leave, but I had to wait for my friends who were having the time of their lives. We had to walk out.”

I see his surprise. Most likely he doesn’t think I’m the dance party type, and he’d be right. “So your Mum doesn’t like you going out?”

I shake my head. “It’s not that. I can do what I want. She just has this need to control and manipulate. And everything she says is full of criticism. It’s been a lifetime of negativity.”

“Jeez,” he says again, ruffling a hand through his hair. “Sounds like you’ve got your hands full there.”

“Sorry to go on. It’s just hard sometimes, you know?”

“Don’t apologise, Sam. It sounds really difficult.”

Berating myself for spilling too much, I sigh. Because this stuff is
raw
. And usually kept hidden. But he’s driving at a hundred and focused on the road. In the confines of the ute, time stretches with silence.

As we approach Karuah his mobile rings. I assume it’s Matt because Jack says, “Yeah mate, we’re on our way. We should be there in five.” And then, “Thanks mate, that’s great. I’ll let her know,” before clicking off the call.

Jack turns sideways with a smile. “So your repairs ended up being a bit cheaper, which is good, right?”

I give him a grin. “That is definitely good.” A wave of relief floods through me because cash isn’t easy to come by. Board, petrol, food, ferries. It seems to go out as fast as it comes in.

Matt reverses the Excel out of the lot as we pull up. Shiny and mirror-like, the new paintwork gleams in the low afternoon light.

“Here she is,” Matt says, gesturing at the car like a corny television game-show host. “Looks all brand new.”

“Nice finish, buddy.” Jack runs his hand along the rear end of my car, rubbing the paintwork with his fingers. Tiny metallic flecks shimmer in the light.

“What d’ya reckon Sam?” Matt asks. “Came up beautifully, I reckon.”

“Wow, it looks great Matt. Thanks so much.”

“It ended up being cheaper, even with the discount. Come into the office so we can settle up the account,” he says, leading the way to the rear of the yard.

I follow him into a dark room at the back of the lot. Framed pictures of racing cars hang haphazardly on the walls, and a soupy mix of engine oil and petrol-scent invades the air. Matt ducks around the back and materialises behind the counter to pull out the invoice.

He hands it over. “Four hundred’ll do it, Sam.”

“Gee, thanks Matt.” I hand over my credit card and he waves it over the machine after punching in the particulars. We wait while the sale goes through, then he hands the card back to me with a written receipt detailing the work he’s done. Knowing the huge discount he’s given, thank you doesn’t really seem enough.

“Anything for a friend of Jack’s,” he says.

Jack appears in the office behind me. “So when are we having that drink? You free tonight?”

Initially I think he’s asking me out, then quickly realise the question’s not aimed at me. Not at all. And I colour at the assumption.

Matt’s eyes light. “Finish at four, mate. I could meet you round six?”

“Cool man. I’ll see you at the pub then.” Jack gives him the thumbs up, backing out the door.

“Are you gonna come?” Matt asks, winking cheekily from behind the counter. “I’m sure Jack wouldn’t mind. In fact, I
know
Jack wouldn’t mind. Unless of course you’ve already got plans?”

“No, no plans,” I reply hastily, wondering what Jack would think if I turned up. “I’d love to Matt. But Jack didn’t invite
me
. Maybe it’s meant to be a boys’ night.”

“Well, I’m inviting you,” he encourages, waggling his eyebrows. “So what do you say?”

I giggle. “Thanks, Matt. Maybe. I’ll check it out with Jack.” I give him an appreciative smile and duck out the door with the receipt still clutched in my hand.

Jack’s waiting by his car. “So, um ... do you want to come tonight, too?”

I look up at him. All six-foot-two of him, and realise that this time, he is actually asking me out. “Yeah, I’d like that,” I say, finding it hard to hide the smile niggling at the corners of my mouth. “Matt just invited me, but I wanted to check if it was okay with you.”

A grin fills his face completely. “Mate, that is definitely okay,” he says, beaming that irresistible smile of his.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Six p.m. Tea Gardens Hotel. Tonight I feel weightless and frothy like the sea. In the fading autumn glow the river’s a hazy grey, and trashy coloured lights flicker on above the road. The reek of stale beer and pungent fish and chips fills the public bar. I glance around, trying to locate Jack. He and Matt are already here, concealed in an obscure corner.

Jack spots me as I approach, pushing back his chair. We meet near the bar and greet almost gracelessly.
Do we kiss? Do we hug?
Eventually he enfolds me in his arms and brushes his lips across my cheek. My jolting heart skips several critical beats. With his arms wrapped round me he’s warm and smells salty like the sea.

“Hey,” he says softly, pulling away. His eyes flicker in the darkened bar and his face is immersed in shadow.

“Hi,” I croak back with a jolt of nerves.

“So what’ll you have? I’ll get it for you.”

“Thanks. I’ll have the same as you.”

He releases me from his arms. “Too easy,” he says, turning for the bar.

I wait for him, hovering a few feet behind while the bar-girl pulls the beer. And he’s gorgeous. His coarse blond hair flops messily over his forehead when he sinks a hand into the pocket of his nicely fitted jeans. He passes over a ten dollar note and spins to face me holding the beer.

“Over here.” He thumbs toward the table, as if I hadn’t seen where he was sitting.

“Hey, Sam. Long time, no see,” says Matt with a grin.

I laugh. “Yeah Matt, it’s been
way
too long.”

“A full three hours. I’m looking forward to that beer you’re going to buy me for doing all that cheap labour on your car.”

I colour. “Totally. It’s the least I can do.”

“Don’t hassle her, Matt. She only just got here,” says Jack, catching my inelegance.

“All right, I’ll give you ten minutes then, hey? Then I’ll start.”

I laugh. “How about fifteen? At least let me have one drink so I can dish out a few clever comebacks.”

He quirks an eyebrow at me. “You’re on.”

Jack just shakes his head, giving a dramatic eye roll.

Pulling out a heavier-than-expected chair, I sit myself down. Matt reminds me of my brother. The droll humour; harassment for his own amusement. So I’m kind of attuned to it.

“Jack’s running ferries at nine a.m. tomorrow morning, poor bastard. As for me, I’ve got the day off,” Matt boasts, chugging on his beer.

Jack rolls his eyes again at the mention of work. “Thanks for the reminder, mate. I’m trying to enjoy myself this evening.”

“Early to bed for you then, eh buddy?” He flashes a suggestive look at Jack, who glowers back.

“Give it a rest, mate.”

“Rest? Rest is what you’ll need
after
tonight.”

Jack glares fiercely at him just as Matt’s phone buzzes on the table. Slightly startled, he glances down at the screen and immediately pushes away from the table. “Sorry guys, I’ve got to take this.” Answering the phone he leaves, heading out to stand by the river.

“Sorry about him,” Jack says, looking slightly embarrassed. “Sometimes he forgets you can’t say that stuff around girls.”

I smile reassuringly. “It’s okay, Jack. I have an older brother. That was nothing, honestly. I’ve endured a lifetime of smartarse remarks.”

Jack looks immediately relieved. “Good. Because he never stops dishing it out.”

“So how do you know him?”

“Jeez, I’ve known him forever. Our parents are good mates. They moved to Maitland when he was sixteen, so he lived with us at Palm Beach while he finished his apprenticeship. I suppose we’re like family.” He sips his beer, clunking the glass down heavily on the table. “Brothers, really. He was there when Charlie died.”

“Living with you?”

“Yeah.” His face tightens.

“You guys seem close.”

“We’ve been there for each other, over the years. We look out for each other. It makes a difference knowing someone’s got your back. He might carry on with a bit of crap, but he’s always been there for me.”

“So, why did he fix your car for free?” I ask, fiddling with the coasters.

Jack laughs. “Ah, long story. Short version, Matt ran away from home when he was fifteen. He hid in the room above our garage and I took him food for a month before our parents found out. It was round the time his parents were planning to move to Maitland. And Matt
really
didn’t want to go.”

“Wow. That all sounds
very
dramatic.”

He sits up higher on the edge of his seat. “It was dramatic. The police got involved. He was listed as a missing person. Until one day Dad cottoned on that I was making lots of late night trips into the garage. I think he thought I was smoking cones. Or something. But we were discovered anyway.” He smiles at the memory.

“So what happened? Did you guys get in trouble?”

He rolls his eyes. “Yeah, heaps. But in the end Matt got what he wanted. My parents could see how much he didn’t want to move to Maitland. They took him in and he lived with us for a few years. So he’s like a brother to me. Especially since ...” He breaks off.  “Well, you know ...”

Matt arrives back frazzled and obviously on edge. “Hey guys, I gotta go. My mate’s broken down on the highway near The Rock. I’ve gotta go rescue him.” Slamming down the rest of his beer, he grabs his jacket from the back of the chair. “So I’ll see you two later.”