‘Oh, Ange.’
‘Now look what I’ve done,’ she said, and Jo could almost see the bubbles rising to the surface as her humour returned. ‘I’ve been a big fat downer raining on your parade.’
‘No,’ Jo said seriously. ‘I’m worried about you.’
‘Oh stop,’ she scoffed. ‘I’m just having a whinge. And I’ve got it off my chest now, so let’s go back to that kiss.’
‘No, we’ve done that kiss to death, it’s not such a big deal.’
‘Oh, yes it is!’ she exclaimed. ‘It was a wonderful breathtaking kiss, and that should be celebrated.’
‘What should be celebrated?’ said Oliver, swooping down on them. ‘Am I going to have to get the apricot tux out of mothballs? Has Roasted-Goat’s-Cheese finally come to the party?’
Angie grinned. ‘He hasn’t been Roasted-Goat’s-Cheese for ages, Oliver.’
‘He’ll always be Roasted-Goat’s-Cheese to me,’ he said. ‘So, come on, what’s the goss?’
‘The goss is all about Jo.’
His eyes lit up. ‘Budge, petal,’ he said, sliding into the booth next to Angie, opposite Jo, looking at her expectantly. ‘Come on, out with it, I haven’t got all day.’
‘There’s not a lot to say,’ said Jo. ‘Nothing’s really happened.’
‘With whom?’
Jo hesitated. ‘If I tell you, you have to promise me you won’t breathe a word, Oliver, he works at the Trib.’
Oliver pulled a face. ‘Oh, not another married one?’
‘No!’ She was really getting a reputation. ‘It’s only because, like I said, nothing’s really happened –’
‘What about the kiss?’ Angie pointed out.
‘There was a kiss?’
‘Such a kiss,’ said Angie, ‘it took her breath away. Her words.’
Oliver was beaming. ‘So who’s the lucky man?’
‘You promise you won’t say anything?’
He mimed locking his lips and throwing away the key. He was so gay.
Jo glanced surreptitiously around the room, then leaned in closer, her voice low. ‘His name’s Joe Bannister.’
‘Excellent choice!’ Oliver declared, slapping his hand on the table.
Jo was wide-eyed. ‘You know him?’
‘Of course, big bear of a man, very cuddlesome, but as straight as the day is long, I’m afraid. Though lucky for you! You have done well for yourself, Josephine.’
‘How do you know him?’ she asked.
‘I know everyone,’ he dismissed. ‘He works in the building, he’s polite, he introduced himself after he’d been in a couple of times . . . quite the gentleman. So I approve. You have my blessing, but I still want you home by eleven on a school night.’
‘You won’t say anything to him, will you, Oliver?’
‘Why the secrecy? Doesn’t he know about it yet either?’
‘It’s just at a very early stage.’ She felt like a broken record. ‘And nothing’s really happened –’
‘There was a kiss,’ Angie chimed in.
‘That took your breath away,’ Oliver added.
Jo winced. She was beginning to think she should never have mentioned the kiss. ‘Look, I might be pinning way too much on that kiss. In fact, all he said was that it was something that he’d always wanted to do, that he regretted not doing it before, and then he kissed me, and he walked away. It might have been some kind of closure for him.’
Oliver was frowning. ‘Closure for what? You said nothing’s really happened. The kiss was an entrée, not an after-dinner mint, darling heart.’
Jo shrugged.
‘Have you heard from him since?’
‘No,’ she said in a vaguely troubled voice.
‘Because he’s visiting his sick father,’ Angie reminded her.
‘Well there you go,’ said Oliver. ‘He can hardly sit there at his father’s bedside chatting up his new girlfriend on the phone.’
‘Oliver, I’m not his girlfriend!’
‘No, you are a bit old to get away with being called a girl, aren’t you?’ he said, pretending to duck for cover as he slid out of the seat. ‘Back to the coalface, that coffee’s not going to make itself!’ He leaned across the table and gave her hand a squeeze. ‘I am happy for you, Josephine, you deserve to have something nice happen. Enjoy it.’
Leura
Joe hadn’t spoken to his father the night he arrived at the house, or even seen him. It was late and he was already asleep. Mim was bubbling over with excitement and nerves, and Joe was happy he was able to do this for her. Correct that, he wasn’t doing this for Mim, he was doing it for their father. He should never have become Mim’s sole responsibility. At least Joe was around more now, and he would continue to be, as long as was needed.
But the next day he was confronted with the grim reality of his father’s deterioration. Joe sat with him for a while in the morning, but the old man didn’t even have the energy for a conversation, and he mostly drifted in and out of sleep the whole time.
‘His lungs are becoming so weak,’ Janice explained to him later. ‘He has to be on oxygen for longer periods during the day, and overnight. It’s all very well to get the oxygen into him, but the problem we’re encountering now is that he can’t dispel the carbon dioxide effectively. It’s particularly bad when there’s a lot of moisture in the air, so these damp days haven’t helped.’
‘So what’s the next step,’ Joe asked, ‘when he needs help to breathe both in and out?’
Janice lowered her eyes. ‘Well, there are machines . . .’
‘What, like a ventilator?’
‘Let’s not think about all that at this point,’ she said briskly. ‘He still has lots of good days.’
They had nurses round the clock now, so Joe took off for a long walk in the bush behind their place. He was sweating when he reached the top of the ridge, but felt immediate relief from the cooler air at this level. He sat on a flat sandstone ledge looking out across the next valley, breathing in the fresh air. Joe knew what a ventilator meant, but he hadn’t thought things would get to that. He couldn’t imagine his dad would want to be hooked up to a machine to stay alive, but he would suffer needlessly if he didn’t have some kind of intervention as his condition deteriorated. Joe would have to arrange a meeting with the specialist, find out just what their options were. And he was going to have to call Hil, make her aware of what was going on. She was already talking about coming out for Christmas. Joe was beginning to think that was a good idea.
He heard the plaintive cry of a black cockatoo and turned to see a pair of them swoop out of a nearby stand of gums and fly across the sky as though they were in slow motion.
He thought about Jo. He hadn’t phoned her yet. He was worried that if he called just to talk it might break the spell of the kiss, and he had to wring as much magic as he could out of that moment. He’d toyed with the idea of inviting her up here, till he realised that was really not appropriate under the circumstances. But he missed her. More than he imagined he would.
He had wondered if he oughtn’t write to her instead, an email, maybe even just a text message. But that might seem impersonal, unless he said what he really wanted to say, and then that might freak her out. No, he had to see her face when he eventually said what he really wanted to say, if he had any hope of reading what was going through her mind.
But that was going to have to wait. The black cockatoos were flecks in the distance, and for now he needed to get back to his dad.
Wednesday
Joe was sitting out on the back verandah reading the paper when Janice appeared at the screen door.
‘Excuse me, Joe?’
He turned to look at her.
‘Your dad’s asking for you.’
‘He is?’ he said, standing up and folding the paper.
‘The air is dryer, can’t you feel it?’ she said, smiling. ‘He’s going to have a good day.’
Joe followed her inside. He hadn’t spent much time with hi
s father at all in the last couple of days, and it was beginning to get him down. He felt as though he was witnessing his dad’s life ebb away. Mim called every night, but Joe didn’t let on. He kept the chat positive, assured her that Dad was resting comfortably, having a quiet week, nothing to report.
As he walked into the room and over to his bedside, Joe was relieved to see his father’s eyes were bright and alert.
‘Hello son,’ he said.
Joe smiled. ‘Hi Dad,’ he said, taking a seat by the bed. ‘How are you feeling?’
‘Better today.’
‘I can see that.’
‘But I’m going to type, Joe,’ he said slowly, in his now familiar, halting speech. ‘Talking . . . it gets too hard . . . and I have a lot to say . . . my head’s clearer today.’
‘Okay.’ Janice must have already attached the keyboard to his arm for him, so Joe drew the monitor closer on its wheeled base, positioning it so they could both see the screen.
How’s that pretty girlfriend?
That was his first burning question? And who did he mean – surely not Sarah?
‘I don’t have a girlfriend right now, Dad.’
So there’s nothing between you and that lovely young woman Jo who came to the house?
‘Well, there might be something,’ Joe admitted, ‘but I wouldn’t call her my girlfriend. It’s early days yet.’
Then get on with it. You’re too old to be mucking around.
Joe grinned. ‘Don’t worry about me, Dad.’
But I do worry, I want to see you all settled and I don’t have much time.
He frowned. ‘Don’t talk like that, Dad.’
I am going to die, Joe, and it’s not far off.
Joe went to interrupt but his father kept on typing.
I’m tired, son. I’ve had a full, busy, rich life, but this is no life now. I dream a lot, about the places and the people, the things I’ve seen. I’ve been so privileged. Some people spend their whole lives in the one place, their imaginations going no further than what they see on the television. But I’ve been to so many places, I’ve done so much. I’ve had my share, my fill. It’s time.
Joe’s heart ached for him. He could express himself so eloquently in writing. No wonder Joe had never guessed the severity of his condition before he saw it for himself.
I’m at peace, son. You should be as well.
‘We don’t have to talk about this now.’ Joe felt uneasy.
We have to talk about it sometime. Your problem is you’re too sentimental.
‘I’m not sentimental.’
Of course you are, you’re sentimental like your mother, passionate people usually are. All your talk about settling up here in the mountains, you’d probably go nuts if you did.
‘You don’t like it here, Dad?’
Sure I do, now. But while I could still get around I wanted to be anywhere else. I wasn’t suited to settling down, I’d never stayed put in the one place before.
‘How did Mum feel about that?’
I’m sure it must have been very frustrating for her at times, but she loved you kids so much, she was content. I could have been a better husband, a better father to the younger two especially. I was away so much. No wonder Will doesn’t have much time for me now.
‘That’s not it, Dad. Will doesn’t have much time for anyone but himself.’
He’s young, that’s okay. I would like to see him though. There are things I’d like to say to him, things he should hear from his dad.
‘I’m sure he’ll come soon,’ said Joe, vowing silently to drag Will up here if he had to.
And I worry about Mim. She’s had to look after me all this time, she hasn’t built a life for herself.
‘She’s got plenty of time, Dad, and she wouldn’t want to be anywhere else right now.’
She should though, she should want to be somewhere else. She should be out there making her own life. I’m glad she went to the symposium.
He paused for a while. Joe didn’t know if he was getting tired. Then he began to type again.
So where to next for you, son?
‘I think I’ve had enough, Dad, enough travelling, certainly enough war. I like the idea of settling down in the one place.’
You won’t know until you do it. But I warrant you’ll get restless after a while.
Joe shrugged. ‘I don’t know if I could do that, leave my family behind.’
You have to get yourself a family before you start worrying about leaving them behind.
He smiled then. ‘Point taken.’
Is this girl the one?
‘I don’t know, Dad. How do you know for sure?’
There are no guarantees.
‘I’d be happy if I had what you and Mum had together.’
You’re too idealistic, son. You put your mother and me on a pedestal, and we didn’t belong there. Or at least I didn’t. You don’t know how many times I thought of not coming back.
‘So why did you?’
There was a pause before he began to type again.
Because I missed her. I wanted to see her face. She’s the reason I kept coming back.
The Tribune
Jo got back to her desk after lunch and checked her messages, her current obsession. Unfortunately it had been a slow week, news-wise, everything-wise. She hadn’t heard from Joe, and she didn’t know what she was supposed to make of that. She’d thought of calling him, but that might seem a bit desperate. Besides, he was with his father, she didn’t want to impose. He’d said the end of the week, he’d call her at the end of the week. She was pretty sure anyway, some of the specifics after that kiss were a bit hazy. But she didn’t like that she’d been put in the position of waiting for him to call, she had thought she’d become immune to such preoccupations.
Although she’d similarly had no contact with Lachlan, Jo was aware of his every move. The news floor had been tracking his progress with daily updates from the government press office, but he was unable to make direct contact while he was in Iraq. That suited Jo: she knew he was safe but she didn’t have to deal with him. However, he was due back any day, and she would have liked some confirmation of where things stood with Bannister before she had to face Lachlan again.
But there was still no message from him, instead there was a voicemail from Belle, asking Jo to call her back. She hadn’t told Belle about the kiss, thank God, she didn’t want to jinx it any further than she possibly had already. She picked up her phone and dialled. Belle answered.
‘Hi, it’s me,’ said Jo.
‘Oh, hi Jo, thanks for getting back to me.’
‘What’s up?’
‘It’s Mum.’
Jo groaned inwardly.
‘She rang me late last night,’ Belle went on. ‘She sounded drunk.’
‘So, nothing out of the ordinary.’
‘She said she has to come down to Sydney again. She was babbling on about more tests, or treatment, I couldn’t follow her, she wasn’t making much sense.’
‘You said she was drunk.’
‘Don’t be flippant about this, Jo. I think something’s really wrong with her this time.’
‘I’m not being flippant,’ Jo said levelly. ‘But I don’t think it helps to start jumping to conclusions.’
‘Well it has to be something serious!’ Belle exclaimed. ‘She’s already had a whole battery of tests, and now she’s coming back for more? And possible treatment?’
‘You don’t know that,’ said Jo. ‘You said she wasn’t making much sense. You need to talk to her when she’s sober. Do you know when she’s planning to come down?’
‘No, she said she had to organise it.’
‘Think about it, Belle, if it was an emergency she’d be arriving at your place now. Or she’d be having the treatment up there in Queensland. Come to think about it, why isn’t she having the treatment up there? And the tests?’
‘Maybe she wants to be close to her family.’ Belle’s voice was breaking.
> Cripes. ‘If you’re that worried, Belle, then give her a call, now, during the day, when you have a chance of catching her sober.’
‘Don’t you think I’ve already tried that?’ she said. ‘There was no answer.’
‘So she’s out buying new clothes for the trip.’
‘Jo, you’re being flippant again.’
‘I’m not. Look, when you find out something, let me know. I’ll come to the airport with you to pick her up if you like.’
‘You will?’
‘Sure,’ she faltered. Why did she say that? ‘If I can get away. If not, I’ll come to your place and we’ll have it out with her, find out exactly what’s going on.’
‘Oh, that’d be so great, Jo. I don’t think I can handle this on my own.’
‘Well, you won’t have to.’
Leura
‘Hey Joe.’
‘Will, is that you?’
‘Last time I checked.’
‘What’s up?’
‘I need a lift from the station.’
‘I’m up home, Will. At Leura, I told you.’
‘And I’m at Leura station, so you won’t have far to go.’
‘You’re at the station? Now?’
‘Yeah.’
‘What are you doing here?’
‘You asked me to come, Joe.’
‘I’ve been asking you to come and visit Dad since I got back in the country. Why now all of a sudden?’
‘You want me to justify why I’m here?’ Will sounded a little frustrated. ‘Is this a bad time or something?’
‘No, sorry, Will,’ Joe said quickly. ‘It’s perfect timing, Dad’s been asking after you. He’s going to be so happy to see you.’
Joe was pacing around in the kitchen, staring down at the timber floor, the worn patches in front of the sink, the stove, in the doorway. Will had gone straight in to see their father when they arrived back from the station. He’d seemed resolved, he wanted to get it done with, the sooner the better. Joe had only stayed long enough to see the tears well in his dad’s eyes, then he’d left them alone. There was a nurse in the room, tactfully sitting reading a book in a corner. She’d make sure Will didn’t tire his dad out.
Crossing Paths Page 31
