Love and Other Battles

by Tess Woods

  ‘They all come back changed men, Jess, trust me. Every last one of them,’ Shelley had warned her as they lay in their beds one night after rounds. A year earlier Shelley had broken up with her fiancé only weeks after he’d returned from his tour of duty. ‘And none of them ever change for the better.’

  The dread had swallowed up all Jess’s other thoughts, and she had to work hard to stay alert and not allow herself to make any more stupid or costly mistakes while on duty.

  Finally, her shifts had come to an end and it was now her last weekend at home before Frank left. He had been given a week of pre-embarkation leave in Melbourne, but she didn’t want to get in the way of his time with his family. He’d pleaded with her to come and visit him at his parents’ place of an evening; he’d offered to pick her up and drive her back again, but she’d refused. Instead she promised that she’d meet him up in Sydney for his final night before flying out.

  ‘Your mum and dad need time alone with their son,’ she’d insisted. ‘And your brothers and sisters deserve to see you without the distraction of me there. We’ll have a whole day and night to ourselves in Sydney.’

  It was torture knowing he was only an hour away in Melton, but her resolve didn’t waver. The Stone family deserved time with him. And deep down she knew she didn’t want to share him with them anyway.

  Monday was only two days away and she’d be in his arms again. She tried not to focus on the fact that it could well be for the last time. Instead she let herself look forward to their first night together in a fancy hotel.

  They’d pooled their money and booked the hotel under Mr and Mrs Stone — it wasn’t lying exactly, it was just a little premature. When Frank returned from his tour, they planned to become engaged immediately.

  She tuned in and out while her dad was back onto one of his favourite subjects — the drafting of the highest-earning recording artist on his label, Normie Rowe.

  ‘What are the chances, if he doesn’t get his head blown off in the next six months, that there’s never another Normie record because he’s a drooling mess by the time he comes home? There’s nothing random about that so-called random ballot, let me tell you, Jess. Who was I talking about that with the other day?’ Without waiting for an answer from her, he continued. ‘John Young. Yes, that’s right, it was Johnny Young. I was telling him how Australia wants its own Elvis story. Normie’s drafting was that miserable bastard Holt’s doing, to get public sympathy for the war effort. That’s all it was. You wait and see, Jess, one day the truth about that will come out and you’ll see I was right all along . . .’

  She didn’t hear the rest until he said, ‘Jess? Are you listening?’

  ‘Sorry, Dad, I missed that.’

  He sighed. ‘I said, why are you insisting on going by train when I can easily book you a flight to Sydney?’

  She gave him a long look. ‘I don’t want your charity. I know how you feel about Frank going to Vietnam.’

  ‘Whatever the case may be,’ he said, pausing for a swig of wine, ‘the fact remains you’re still my daughter, and I want to help you get to Sydney without spending fifteen hours in purgatory on the train.’

  ‘I’m not your daughter,’ she snapped before the regret slammed her.

  He blinked and said nothing.

  ‘I’m sorry. Dad, I’m sorry. It’s the stress — it’s turning me mad. Of course I’m your daughter.’ Her stomach twisted itself into tighter and tighter knots.

  She hated that her romance with Frank had driven a wedge between her and her father. It tore her up inside that he was disappointed in her. Even though she agreed with his opinions about the war, she’d had to keep her feelings buried out of loyalty to Frank. They never sat together anymore talking passionately about politics and setting the world to rights the way they used to before she met Frank. It was isolating and depressing to be at odds with the only family she had.

  After a long silence, Malcolm reached out across the table and rested his hand on hers. ‘Jess, let me buy you a plane ticket. Please.’

  She gave him a grateful smile. ‘That would be marvellous, thank you.’

  ‘Good, that’s settled then. I’ll drive you to the airport myself and be there to collect you when you get home.’

  She stood and cleared their plates from the table. ‘You might not want to be waiting at the gates for my return. I’ll be an awful sight to behold, broken into a million pieces.’

  ‘What’s the point of being your father if I’m not there to mend those pieces back together?’

  Her heart surged with affection for him. ‘I didn’t mean it, you know, about you not being my dad.’

  ‘I know, Jess, I know.’

  2 DECEMBER 2017

  CJ desperately wanted to talk to Mia. Keeping inside what she’d done with Finn was eating her up.

  Things had been strained between her and Mia since Mia had found out Finn was selling dope at school. She’d called CJ and begged her to break up with him. CJ hadn’t been ready to listen to her then, and had been avoiding her since.

  But she was ready to hear whatever Mia had to say now. She had to tell someone about what had happened yesterday or she’d lose her mind. Where was her phone? She’d silenced it before and now she couldn’t find it. She was still hunting for it when the doorbell rang.

  She waited to see if someone else would answer it, but when they didn’t and it rang again, she went to the door herself.

  What’s he doing here?

  She couldn’t look him in the eye. ‘Hi.’

  ‘What kind of a hello is that?’ He laughed. ‘You okay, babe? I messaged you, like, ten times.’

  ‘I can’t find my phone.’

  ‘Oh.’

  They stood in silence on opposite sides of the fly-screen door.

  ‘Well?’ He gave her a funny stare. ‘Am I coming in?’

  She didn’t want to do this today. She didn’t feel strong enough. But he was right there. She’d just have to suck it up and get it out of the way. Then she could call Mia and debrief with her afterwards.

  ‘Yeah, come in.’

  Her mum had a strict rule that if she was alone with him, then her bedroom door had to stay open. If it wasn’t so awful, it would be kind of funny that Jamie thought an open door could stop Finn getting what he wanted.

  But right now, she couldn’t risk her mum or her nan overhearing them, so she closed the bedroom door behind Finn.

  ‘Ooh, nice.’ He wiggled his eyebrows at her. ‘Are we going to do stuff?’

  Her stomach lurched. ‘No! I closed the door because I don’t want them to hear us talking.’

  He reached his hand under her top. ‘I don’t want to talk.’

  She shirked away. ‘Finn, I-I,’ she stammered, ‘I don’t want to see you anymore.’

  He frowned. ‘What? Why? What have I done?’

  ‘Nothing.’ She wiped her clammy hands on her jeans. ‘I just, I don’t know. Things are moving too fast. I need . . . I need a break.’

  ‘Is this because of yesterday?’ His eyes narrowed. ‘I told you I’d do it back but you said no. So it’s not my fault.’

  ‘No, it’s not just that.’ She spoke in a hushed voice even though the door was shut, still panicked that her mum or her nan might overhear. ‘Please,’ she said urgently. ‘I just need a break. Please just let it go.’

  ‘Let it go?’ His tone shifted to hard. ‘What do you mean let it go? Don’t you love me?’ Streaks of red splashed across his clenched jaw.

  ‘Um, I . . . It’s the drug thing.’ Her mouth was dry. ‘I told you I didn’t want you to do it, but you did it anyway.’

  ‘But that was for us, for Maxwell and Stone. I did it all for you. And I was the one who did all the dirty work, wasn’t I?’

  ‘But I told you that I didn’t want to make money that way.’

  ‘Just because you don’t like the dope thing, that doesn’t mean we need to break up. I mean, we still love each other, right? I still love you at least.’ He looked
so sad.

  She felt herself weakening, feeling sorry for him. This was why she needed to talk to Mia. Mia would know what to say next.

  She looked down.

  ‘Hey!’ Finn growled in a low voice and her heart gave a jump. ‘I said I love you. Why aren’t you saying it back? Say it back.’ He gripped her wrist.

  ‘Ouch!’ she hissed and yanked her arm free. ‘Don’t! That really hurt!’ She stood up straighter. Any uncertainty she’d had vanished in a split second.

  ‘Shit, I’m sorry, CJ. I didn’t mean it.’ His face crumpled. ‘But you were really upsetting me. I don’t deserve this. I deserve you to love me. Just say you love me back and we can be normal again. Please just say it.’ There was a desperate edge to his voice.

  She rubbed her wrist where he’d left bright red finger marks before looking at him again. ‘I can’t say I love you because I don’t love you. I want you to leave now. Okay?’ she said it all in one big breath and turned towards the door, reaching for the handle.

  Finn stepped between her and the door, blocking her way.

  ‘No!’ He pointed his finger close to her nose. ‘No, it’s not fucking okay. What about Maxwell and Stone? What about us moving to Nashville together? You can’t just decide it’s over. It’s not up to you.’ His lips were white.

  ‘Finn, get out of the way.’ She had a strong urge to pee.

  ‘Why did you lie and say you loved me then?’ He poked her hard in the chest. ‘You said it, you cock teaser.’

  ‘Don’t!’ She took a step back. ‘Stop touching me. Get out.’ She tried to sound strong but could he tell how scared she was?

  He didn’t move.

  ‘I said move!’ She shouted it this time, her voice quavering.

  He gave her a long look, then leaned towards her. She flinched, positive that he was about to hit her.

  ‘Mum! Nan!’ she yelled. Why weren’t they coming? Where the hell were they?

  Finn threw the door wide open and stormed out just as her mum approached. He brushed past Jamie, knocking his elbow into her on his way through.

  Her mum’s mouth hung open and her eyes were wide. ‘What happened? What’s wrong?’ She held CJ by her arms. ‘Did he hurt you?’

  CJ collapsed against her and sobbed. She shook all over.

  ‘It’s all right, honey, I’m here.’ Jamie held her tight. ‘CJ? What did he do? Why were you scared? You can tell me.’

  But she couldn’t tell her. She just couldn’t. And she decided not to tell Mia anything after all either. There was nothing anybody could do or say to make her feel better.

  1 SEPTEMBER 1969

  On the first day of spring, after all the waiting, Jess kissed her father goodbye and boarded a flight to Sydney.

  At three in the afternoon, with an old ring from home on her wedding finger, she checked into a Kings Cross hotel under the name Mrs Frank Stone.

  She knocked on the door of the suite where Frank was waiting for her.

  ‘My Flower Child,’ he said into her ear as he fixed a fresh daisy chain around her head. ‘I missed you.’

  He led her inside and once he’d closed the door behind them, she lifted off her kaftan and let it drop to the floor.

  His eyes grew large. ‘You shaved?’ he gasped, his jaw dropping as he looked at her naked body up and down.

  ‘Farewell gift.’ She scooped her hair behind her neck and lifted up an arm. ‘See, I shaved here,’ she whispered.

  He stepped towards her and leaned his head in close. ‘So beautiful,’ he breathed into her underarm.

  It sent tingles racing down to her hip.

  ‘And I shaved here.’ She bent her right leg up, resting her foot against the wall.

  ‘Christ,’ he moaned. He sank to his knees and covered her legs in kisses before carrying her over to the bed.

  They had wordless sex. Afterwards, they lay silently together.

  Jess didn’t dare look at the clock as the minutes crept past, one after the other. She rested her head on his chest and his fingers grazed her upper arm. He hummed. She smiled when she recognised the tune, Jimi Hendrix’s ‘Love or Confusion’. One of her favourites. She let the lyrics he didn’t sing flow through her head.

  ‘You’re covered in scrapes,’ she said finally, kissing the broken skin on his arm.

  ‘It’s called jungle training for a reason, Flower Child.’ He smiled. ‘It’s dense forest out there.’

  ‘Was it tough?’

  ‘It was. You should have seen it. They fired gunshots in the air while we abseiled down twenty-two-yard walls. We had to crawl fully dressed through tunnels that were half underwater. And when I say fully dressed, that means boots and all and with our loaded backpacks on.’ He rolled onto his side so they were face to face. He looked suddenly animated. ‘I had to go across a long rope suspension bridge. Way up above all the trees. All I had on was a small harness; it didn’t feel safe at all. And the bridge was only made of weak-looking planks of wood about a yard apart that I had to leap across. The bastards down below set off a smoke bomb when I was just over halfway across the bridge. I pissed my pants when that happened. I’m not having you on, I actually pissed my pants.’ He shook his head and let out a rueful laugh. ‘A few of the lads quit when things got too hairy. But I’m fitter than ever now. Just let the VC try to get me. I’ll be ready. We’re the best army in the world, they keep telling us.’

  ‘But why would they even try and get you?’ Her voice was strained. ‘You told me you’ll be working in the hospital inside the barracks. You said that you’re not infantry, that you won’t even be out in the field. What on earth do you mean you’ll be ready? Ready for what exactly?’ Her mouth was dry.

  ‘Soldier first, specialist second. That’s the way it is for everyone there. They said I’m only a hospital medic until infantry needs me and then I’m infantry.’ He added with a wink, ‘Private Stone at your service, ma’am.’

  A chill seeped into Jess’s bones. He was war-thirsty. She wasn’t prepared for this, for the cocky nasho he’d become, getting a kick out of going to war. He wasn’t just doing it out of a sense of national duty anymore. He was proud. Proud that he was about to jump right into the centre of death and destruction.

  What did she expect? Of course he’d been brainwashed into becoming a gun-toting thrillseeker who thought he was bulletproof. How else could the establishment expect to send thousands of young men off to war unless they convinced them they were immortal?

  She ran a shaky hand through her hair. Her father’s words from earlier that morning rang in her ears. ‘He’ll be just like the rest of them, Jess. What makes you think he’s the one soldier in the world who won’t be itching to use his rifle?’

  She was a fool. A complete and utter fool.

  But was this Frank’s fault? She’d made the choice to love him knowing who he was. How could she blame him now for being proud that he was finally getting to do the job he’d joined the army to do?

  ‘Private Stone.’ She almost choked on the words, calling him by his rank for the first time. ‘If you’re really at my service,’ she placed her hands on his shoulders and pressed down, ‘then I could actually do with a bit more servicing right now.’

  ‘You don’t need to tell me that twice,’ he murmured into her mouth before sliding himself down her body.

  Through the tears he never saw her shed she watched his head move in a steady rhythm. And she found herself praying for him to his god. Then she closed her eyes and forgot about their differences and the war and her fears for his life or for the lives he might take from others. She forgot about praying. She forgot that a god might even be watching them. All she did then was love him while she still could.

  ***

  ‘Want to see the city?’ Frank asked her later.

  ‘Yes, let’s. I’m starving.’ She kept the flower crown on and changed into a bright purple mini-dress.

  It was a fifteen-minute walk to Rowe Street. Hand in hand, they strolled through the crowds.
>
  Frank may have been in his civvies, but he couldn’t hide his army haircut. They were stared at by the heavily made-up women in scant clothing who stood leaning in the doorways, smoking and waiting. And then they were watched again, more suspiciously this time, in a cafe where they stopped for coffee and cake, by a group of shaggy haired men in psychedelic coloured shirts, who were huddled together whispering urgently to one another. But nobody said anything directly to Frank and Jess, so they ignored the stares and turned their backs to everyone else, focusing their attention only on each other.

  When they finished, they headed outside again into the brilliant Sydney sunshine. They stood with their arms around each other, listening to a dreadlocked busker on the corner and then they walked up and down the street, window shopping just like the other carefree young couples around them, not like people about to be separated by war.

  Frank bought her a Janis Joplin record from the noisy Rowe Street Records shop and when they wandered through a bookshop, Jess held up a copy of The Feminine Mystique. ‘Would you let me buy this for you, darling?’ She grinned. ‘Some light reading for you on the plane?’

  ‘You trying to get me killed before I even get there, are you?’ He laughed. ‘Come on, let’s go back to the hotel.’

  ***

  ‘How were the five days at home?’ Jess sat close to him on the bed.

  ‘As expected.’ He let out a long sigh. ‘I went to the pub last night with Dad and Pat for a beer and some advice.’

  ‘What kind of advice?’

  ‘Ah, you know, mostly they wanted to tell me not to make a hero of myself, not to stop for any dead mates out on the field.’

  ‘Oh.’ It made her sick to hear him talk about being out on a battlefield, of soldiers dying, but she kept her tone even. ‘How did you take that?’

  ‘I argued with them, of course. I told them I’d have to stop. That’s the whole point of being a medic, isn’t it, to help those who are hurt?’

  ‘And what did they say to that?’

  He blew through his nose. ‘They laughed.’

  ‘Jesus.’