by Tess Woods
Jess slipped her arm through Frank’s. ‘Well, there you have it. Now you know. Frank and I are going steady.’
‘What could you two possibly have in common?’ Malcolm took a deep drag of his cigarette, his eyes glued on Frank. ‘Is it just sex you’re after with my girl?’
‘Dad!’ Jess gasped. ‘Don’t be so vulgar!’
‘I should be heading off.’ Frank reached for the door handle.
Jess grabbed his hand. ‘I’m coming with you.’
‘No, Jess.’ He gave her a weak smile. ‘I’d best go alone.’ He took a step out of the apartment then turned back in to face her father. ‘With all due respect, Mr James, you’re wrong. It’s not sex I’m after. I love Jess with all my heart. I intend to marry her one day.’
Malcolm let out a sarcastic laugh. ‘We’ll see about that.’
Frank left with his eyes to the ground.
‘How dare you be so rude!’ Jess hissed at her father. ‘I’ve never felt more embarrassed in my entire life.’
‘Embarrassed about me?’ Malcolm lifted his eyebrows. ‘Not about the dimwit army recruit who stands against everything you believe in?’
The blind rage she’d felt towards Frank only moments before turned to her father. ‘I’ll have you know that Frank Stone is the kindest, most decent human being I’ve ever known,’ she said through clenched teeth. ‘And he’s no dimwit. He’s smarter than you and me both. He was halfway through a degree at Melbourne University when he was drafted. He’s going to be an economist one day. If you’re going to lay blame, then blame the government that drafted him.’ As she heard herself say the words, she realised she meant what she said.
Malcolm snorted. ‘He’s got you brainwashed good and proper, hasn’t he?’
‘He has not! What do you think he and I were just arguing about? I’m as against this war as I’ve ever been. But Vietnam isn’t Frank’s fault.’ She drew a breath. ‘Look, Dad, he truly believes that the national service is his duty. No amount of arguing from me will ever change his mind. But he’s a good man. Trust me, he is . . . And I love him,’ she added.
Malcolm walked over to the record player and began flipping through albums. ‘How long have you been seeing this young man then?’ he asked over his shoulder.
‘A few months.’
He nodded slowly. ‘And it’s because you’re not embarrassed by this courtship that you haven’t so much as brought up his name in all this time?’
‘It was only because I knew you’d get up on your high horse and judge him.’ She met his stare. ‘And I was right!’
He put a record on and Judith Durham’s voice floated into the room. ‘If you’re worried about me being judgemental, sweetheart, you’re barking up the wrong tree. Tell me something, is he a mick?’
‘He’s Catholic, yes.’
‘Not many more-judgemental folk on this earth than micks, my dear. They think they’re better than everyone, those people. If you think he’d marry you if you haven’t converted, you’re dreaming. Has he talked to you about converting yet? He will. Mark my words, he will.’
She didn’t reply.
‘And if you think I’m the one who’s judgemental,’ Malcolm continued, ‘how do you think he’d respond if he found out about your old man’s preference for men? My money would be on him running to the cops.’
‘Are you quite done?’ She sighed.
‘Yes. But don’t say I didn’t warn you. He’s not like you, Jess. Mixed marriages are hard work when the couple at least has some shared political background. It will never work between you.’
She looked him straight in the eyes. ‘Yes, it will. It will.’
***
Jess raced, puffing and sweating onto the station platform. Frank was sitting on a wooden bench, his forearms resting on the military bag on his knees and his head hanging low.
As she got closer, two teenage boys walked past and said something to him that she couldn’t hear. Frank looked up and smiled, and one of the boys walked over to shake his hand.
Her heart clenched when Frank saw her and his smile faded. The hurt was clear in his eyes.
‘I’m sorry.’ She sat next to him and wrung her hands. ‘I should have introduced you properly, and earlier like you wanted, instead of letting you get humiliated like that.’
He nodded but said nothing.
‘I’m sorry for picking a fight with you, for trying to manipulate you, for my rude father.’ She paused. ‘For letting you leave and not chasing you right away. I’m so terribly sorry about all of it, Frank. Please say you’ll forgive me?’
He gulped. ‘I’m sorry too. I hate arguing with you about the war. I’m tired of it.’
‘I know. I am too. That’s why I came up with our “no war talk” rule. We need to learn to stick to it better.’
Neither of them spoke for a while.
‘Frank,’ she broke the silence. ‘I’ve been thinking about things, and I’ve come to a decision. I’ll convert.’
He raised his eyebrows.
‘I’m not saying I’ll believe any of it, mind,’ she continued. ‘I’ll always think it’s a load of malarkey, but if me becoming a Catholic is what will make you happy, then I’ll do it. So we can get married in a church one day, like you wanted.’
‘You still want to marry me then? Even though your old man doesn’t approve?’
‘I already told you I don’t need anyone’s permission.’
‘Thank you. That means a lot to me.’ He took her hand in his. ‘Jess, I want to tell you about something that happened after morning parade yesterday. I couldn’t get out of my head what you said the other week about how hypocritical it was that the church supports the war.’
‘Oh? What happened?’
‘I went up to the Padre when prayers were done and I asked him to explain to me again how Thou shalt not kill is our commandment but the church supports soldiers going to war.’
‘What did he say?’
‘He said, “Son, communism is the work of the devil. The Lord is on our side with this one. Defeating God’s enemy isn’t ever a sin, it’s a way to honour Him.”’
‘Good grief. What did you say to that?’ She looked at him intently.
‘Nothing, I rolled my eyes and walked away.’
‘You rolled your eyes at a priest?’
He laughed. ‘You should have seen his face! But I’m still confused, Flower Child. Being Catholic, it’s a big part of who I am. And the church does a lot of good in the parish, always helping the poor . . . I just don’t know what to think . . .’ He trailed off.
‘You can help the poor without being Catholic, you know.’ She reached her hand up and stroked the back of his neck.
‘It’s not only that though. I’m confused about everything — the war, the politics of it, my duty. Jess, I still feel guilty every time we make love because we’re not married. I don’t even know what my values are anymore. And now, the moment I was waiting for, to finally meet your old man and make a good first impression — well, look at how that went.’
Her heart ached for him. ‘Tell me what I can do to make things better.’
He sighed. ‘All I want is for you to be on my side. And I don’t mean I expect you to support the war, I just want to know that my girl supports me.’
She swallowed. ‘But I am on your side.’
‘You’re not really,’ he said softly.
‘Well, I am as of this minute.’ She cleared her throat. ‘But Frank?’
‘Uh-huh?’
‘There’s something you need to know first. It might change how you feel about me. My dad, he’s a homosexual.’
‘I know.’
Her breath caught. ‘You know? How?’
‘I gave myself a guided tour of the flat when you were sleeping a few weeks ago. I found some rather interesting literature in his room. It wasn’t hard to guess.’
‘You sneak!’ She slapped his arm. ‘But . . . my dad being, you know . . . you don’t mind?’
&n
bsp; ‘As long as he doesn’t fancy me, why should I mind?’
She snorted a laugh. ‘I think we can safely say you aren’t his type! But, darling, you must promise me, never to breathe a word of it to anyone. Not even to your family. He could be arrested.’
‘I won’t, I promise.’ He held her hand. ‘You can trust me, Jess, with anything.’
The train pulled up but he made no move to get on board.
‘Do you think you’ll ever forgive my dad for the way he spoke to you?’ she asked.
‘Of course, I will. I’ve got a lot of time for your old man.’
‘But why? He was so rude.’
‘How could I not respect a man like Malcolm James? Single man, suddenly responsible for a baby, and he didn’t put you in an orphanage like most others would have done. And look at the empire he’s built completely on his own to provide for you. There’s a lot to be admired there.’
Jess’s anger towards her father began to melt. ‘That’s true. He’s not all bad, I guess.’
‘And I’ll grow on him,’ Frank said confidently. ‘I’ll be his favourite person in no time, you just wait and see.’
‘Is that so?’ Jess laughed. ‘You’re underestimating my dad’s feelings towards nashos and Catholics, of which you happen to be both.’
‘You hated nashos too, remember?’ He gave her a cocky grin. ‘And look at you now, eager as a beaver to become a Catholic just so you can marry me!’
She was sorely tempted to push him off the bench.
28 OCTOBER 2000
Jamie latched Charlotte onto her breast.
‘You’re a natural, well done.’ The midwife helped guide the baby’s head into the right position and then she let go.
Jamie squeezed her eyes tightly shut as Charlotte’s first sucks pierced her cracked nipple and the pain shot through her breast. She blew out sharply. A minute later, the worst of the sting was over and Charlotte was feeding contentedly.
‘That’s it, perfect. She’s settled in. I’ll leave you to it.’ The nurse smiled down at Charlotte. ‘She’s just beautiful.’
‘I know. She’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,’ Jamie cooed, stroking Charlotte’s rosy cheek with the tips of her fingers.
When the nurse closed the door behind her, Jamie plastered Charlotte’s head with soft kisses. Her baby was only three days old but already she couldn’t imagine life without her. Her pregnancy had been so awful that she’d wondered if she’d even connect at all with her baby once she was born. But the second the nurse had placed the screaming bundle onto her chest, she was besotted.
She’d spent more than ten years loving a man she could never grow old with, and when their relationship came to its painful end, she’d doubted she’d ever be able to love that hard again. She’d been worried that she was too broken.
But then along came Charlotte. And now she knew for sure she had someone she would love wholeheartedly and unfailingly until the day she died. Her broken pieces had magically mended with the first touch of her child and she promised herself she’d never jeopardise this love for another. Never ever ever.
22 NOVEMBER 2017
CJ planned to study the morning of the first exam but she couldn’t focus. Her head was swamped, processing everything that had happened on Monday. After Finn had gone home that day, he’d sent her photos of the weed cuttings hanging in his wardrobe. When she’d found the message, she’d immediately deleted it without replying. She figured she could pretend she hadn’t seen it if he questioned her about it.
What if his parents found out? She hadn’t met his mum yet, but his dad didn’t strike her as the kind of person who would tolerate illegal drugs under his roof.
She’d been shocked the day that she’d met his dad to see how differently Finn had behaved around him. Mr Maxwell had walked in on them jamming in the lounge room and the thunderous look he’d given them had made her hairs stand on end.
‘What are you doing, Finlay?’ He’d glared at him.
‘Er, um, just taking a short break from study.’ Finn had immediately put his guitar to the side. ‘This is CJ, my . . . friend.’
Mr Maxwell had completely ignored her and kept eyeballing Finn. In his low American accent, he’d growled, ‘Your grades are too low for breaks, boy. Get back to work.’
‘Yes, sir,’ Finn had gulped.
She wondered now what Finn would say if Mr Maxwell found the marijuana. Would he say he’d got it from her?
And what would happen to her nan if the weed was traced back to her?
CJ finally understood why she’d never actually seen her nan baking, even though they always had an endless supply of homemade muffins and slices. Nan insisted that she only baked when she had the house to herself without ‘annoying interruptions from you lot’. Maybe this was also why she burned incense sticks, which up until now CJ had assumed was a throwback to her hippie days.
She also finally understood why her nan was so pedantic about Pop’s cake tin being ‘just for Pop’. She was always harping on, ‘Now don’t you dare touch any of Pop’s treats. I’ve made you plenty.’
This had been going on for months. Surely her mum wasn’t in on it, was she? No. No way. She couldn’t know. Jamie would have a fit for sure if she found out.
What would be much worse, though, was if her mum found out Finn had a naked photo of her in his possession. Her face burned at the thought.
Christ, Finn hadn’t even seen her naked in real life but now he had her naked on his phone. Had he wanked to that photo too? All over her face like last time? Had he shown it to his friends? Did they have it on their phones? Were they wanking at her image as well?
Her stomach heaved and she ran to the toilet but nothing came out. She sat with her head in her hands on the cold toilet floor, wishing she’d at least kept the photo on her own phone so she could analyse it more herself.
She could barely remember what she’d looked like in it. She knew she was looking down, but could he see her expression? Was she pouting? What did her body look like? Was she too skinny? Was he laughing at her behind her back?
The unanswered questions had done her head in for most of the day before and rendered her useless, completely unable to study. She’d found herself strangely comforted when she was alone in her bedroom, lightly tracing the scab on her thigh with her fingertips. She’d taken the blood-stained towel and the scissors from the bathroom and hidden them in her room. She’d use them again. They could be her special ones.
But now it was time to walk to school for the exam — and she’d barely looked at her notes.
She clutched her pencil case close to her chest as she made her way across the senior school quadrangle, staring down at the cracked concrete. She breathed in through her nose and slowly blew the air out of pursed lips in an effort to calm herself. She touched her upper thigh over her skirt where the scab was, but just for a second so she didn’t look weird.
‘Ceej!’ Mia was coming from the opposite direction. ‘Let’s get this shit over with, huh?’
When Mia hugged her, CJ was hit with an overwhelming urge to cry. She kept holding on after Mia had let go.
‘Hey, you okay?’ Mia asked, putting her arm back around her.
‘Yeah, yeah, I’m good. Just nervous, I guess.’
‘You’ll be okay, don’t worry, you’re a genius. And anyway, you don’t even need the marks. You’re going to be a world-famous singer. Me? I need this.’ She held up her pencil case. ‘I’ve got nothing else going for me.’
‘That’s such a load of —’ CJ stopped.
A few metres away was Finn, surrounded by a swarm of Year Eleven admirers, some boys and several more girls. He was staring at his phone, expressionless, while they joked and talked around him. Was he looking at her selfie? Oh God, could the others see it? Is that why they were all laughing?
‘Dude?’ Mia gave her arm a gentle squeeze. ‘You okay?’
‘Hmm?’ She blinked.
‘What’s up?’ Mia followe
d her line of vision to Finn. ‘Did Finn do something?’
‘No, no,’ she replied, unable to take her eyes off Finn who was frowning at his phone.
A second later her own phone vibrated in her pocket. She took it out and was flooded with relief. It was a selfie of Finn making a face:
The look of a guy about to fail an exam.
Mia glanced at the photo too and laughed. ‘He’s standing literally five metres away and texting you.’
‘Yeah.’ She shook her head and looked over at Finn who was now using his fingers to mimic a gun pointed at his temple.
His jet-black hair was almost purple in the sun, and with those sparkling eyes that he wasn’t taking off her, and that smile, he made her feel like she was the only girl in the world.
He looked down and typed something else into his phone. Her phone beeped again.
I missed you yesterday.
Me too.
That’s good. I was worried you don’t like me as much anymore.
I still like you.
How much?
She looked up to see him raising his eyebrows, holding his palms out questioningly. She replied:
I like you a lot.
‘I’m going to go to the loo quickly,’ Mia said.
She’d forgotten that Mia was still there. ‘Thank you,’ she mumbled, still looking down at her phone.
‘You’re thanking me for going to the loo?’ Mia snorted. ‘Gawd.’
Want to know how much I like you?
Finn’s message lit up her screen.
How much?
I love you.
The heat climbed up her neck behind her ears. When they made eye contact, her heart felt as though it had doubled in size.
A girl took a step closer to Finn, saying something to him, but he walked away from her towards CJ.
When he reached her, he slid his arm around her lower back. ‘I love you, CJ.’ He leaned forward to kiss her on the mouth.
It was against school rules to have any public displays of affection like that, but CJ didn’t care. She kissed him right back. She ignored the wolf whistles and jeers from his friends.
