by Tess Woods
I’m doing some medical stuff, here and there, but not that much. Every now and then we get a mine injury or a gunshot wound in, but now that it’s getting so humid, the doctors are mostly ordering us to give out cream for prickly heat rash and tinea. And you don’t want to know about the VDs.
I know I’m moaning but really it’s going okay. Most of the blokes here are good sorts. We have a bit of a laugh at night in the boozer. We’ve got Lorrae Desmond and The Wills Sisters coming this week to entertain us troops. They’ll make a nice change from watching Neil Armstrong land on the moon for the hundredth time. Those Yanks sure are up themselves!
Their US radio station’s good to listen to though. The music wasn’t something I expected here but the radio’s on all day. I’d say we’d be getting some of the latest songs before you even hear them over there. The Temptations have a new song out called ‘I Can’t Get Next to You’. I think of you every time it comes on.
Three hundred and eighteen nights and a wakey.
Love,
Frank
8 MARCH 2018
Jamie took a seat in CJ’s psychiatrist’s office. She hadn’t realised that as part of CJ’s therapy she would need to have her own session with the psychiatrist. Now here she was sweating it under Megan’s watchful eye.
‘How are you holding up, Jamie?’ Megan sat back in her plush armchair and looked at her over her wire-rimmed glasses.
‘I’m fine, thank you,’ she replied, her voice shaking a little.
‘Are you sure you’re fine?’ Megan narrowed her eyes. ‘CJ gave you quite the scare there.’
‘Oh yes, she definitely did.’ She laughed nervously. ‘But thank goodness she’s okay. I’m so thankful for that. Blessed.’
The silence that followed made Jamie squirm in her seat.
‘Jamie, have you talked to CJ about the reasons behind her suicide attempt?’
Whoa, okay, so no easing into it then.
‘No, um, we haven’t spoken about it. I’ve just been waiting for her to get well first. That’s all I’m thinking about at the moment.’
Megan nodded. ‘Why do you think CJ tried to take her own life?’
‘I don’t know.’ She tugged on the hem of her black-and-white spotted dress, pulling it over her crossed legs. She’d been hiding her hairy legs in pants since CJ was admitted to hospital. But with the horrors of ICU behind them now and CJ settled into the psych clinic, she’d marked the occasion this morning by taking a shower, shaving her legs, throwing on some clear lip gloss and wearing a pretty dress. It had made her feel half human again.
‘Can you take a guess as to why she tried to suicide?’ Megan wasn’t letting up.
Jamie didn’t feel half human anymore. She cleared her throat. ‘Well, it happened on the day the drugs were found in her locker so I think it might have been related to that.’
‘What do you think it was that made her decide suicide was the answer that day, instead of talking to someone about it?’
Jamie gulped. She’d asked herself the same thing a hundred and one times. ‘I don’t know.’
Megan nodded again. ‘Do you think it was shame, regret, a way to escape consequences?’
Jamie thought about it. ‘Perhaps. I don’t know.’
Megan took a sip of water from an aluminium bottle. ‘Is CJ sexually active?’
‘What? No! Of course she’s not!’
Megan raised her eyebrows. ‘Are you positive?’
‘I was. I’m obviously not so positive anymore, with you raising it like this.’ She paused. ‘She had a boyfriend for a while. Finn. She never talked to me about being sexually active with him, but who knows? Maybe she was. I don’t know.’
‘Do you think any feelings CJ was harbouring towards Finn and their relationship contributed to her self-harm?’
‘I don’t know. She never talked about him much at all.’ Jamie faltered. ‘Especially once they broke up.’
‘You didn’t ask her about it?’
‘I tried, she didn’t want to talk.’
‘Jamie, basically what I want to know from you is whether you think it was only that she was caught with drugs that motivated CJ to cut her wrist, or whether there was something else going on?’
‘I don’t know.’ Her voice was quieter with each answer.
‘What about the twenty-one cuts on her thighs? What do you think the reason behind those is?’
Jamie winced. Twenty-one. Jesus.
Megan had another drink of water. ‘Look, I’ll be completely honest with you, Jamie. I’m trying to gauge the situation before the family therapy session with CJ later so that I know how best to guide it.’
‘What do you mean? Gauge what situation?’
‘I mean I’m trying to get an understanding of where you think your daughter was at before the suicide attempt.’
‘Oh, well, that I do have an answer for.’ There was a bitter edge to Jamie’s voice. ‘I have absolutely no understanding whatsoever of where my daughter was at. All I know is that one day I had a close and happy relationship with my child and the next minute, I’d lost her. She was different, she shut me out, she became a stranger. When Finn came into her life, I lost her.’
‘And what did you do when that happened? Once she’d changed?’ Megan asked after another protracted silence.
‘Not enough. I didn’t do enough.’
Megan let the words hang in the air before she spoke again. ‘Let me ask you again then, Jamie. Do you think CJ’s relationship with Finn contributed to the self-harm?’
This time she didn’t hesitate. ‘Yes. Yes, I do. What did that boy do to my daughter? Do you know?’ Her throat constricted as the possibilities began to form in her mind.
‘I’m sorry, I can’t tell you,’ Megan replied. ‘But I know that CJ is planning to tell you everything in family therapy. Now that you’re aware of the link with Finn, I need to ask you something.’
Jamie nodded, not trusting herself to speak as her rage towards Finn, and whatever he might have done to CJ, clouded her head.
‘CJ will share things with you over the next few days and weeks that might shock you, that might make you feel angry or emotional. Okay?’ Megan nodded. ‘But it’s vital you understand that for family sessions to work, CJ needs a safe space to be able to say all the things she’s been holding in.’
‘Well, of course, I know that,’ Jamie scoffed. ‘As if I’d lose my temper with her when she’s in such a vulnerable state. What do you think I am? I’m not a monst —’
‘What I meant,’ Megan interrupted her, ‘isn’t that she needs safety from you getting too angry. She needs to know that what she reveals to you won’t destroy you, that she isn’t responsible for your wellbeing.’
‘I’m sorry, you’ve lost me.’
‘That’s okay. I’ll explain. If CJ told you, for example, of someone being mean to her at school, have you ever become visibly upset and shown her that?’
‘Yes. But what’s wrong with that?’ Jamie crossed her arms. ‘It’s showing her how important she is to me, that her pain is my pain.’
‘Exactly,’ Megan agreed. ‘That’s exactly what makes it unsafe for her to open up to you.’
‘Pardon?’ She frowned.
‘If she tells you she’s upset and then you’re the one who becomes upset, she then has to carry the guilt and burden of your feelings on top of her own. We know that when children feel like that, it makes them less likely to share more of their troubles. They don’t want to be responsible for causing their parents grief, so they shield them from whatever it is they’re going through and carry it all inside.’ Megan leaned forward. ‘If she opens up and confides in you, remember that all she wants from you is a place to air her troubles and be supported without consequences, without having to worry that you won’t cope with the confronting things she shares. What you need to do is just be there for CJ, and support her.’
‘Oh,’ she said in a small voice. ‘I see.’
‘So I want you t
o feel free to come and see me again on your own,’ Megan continued. ‘Or go and see someone else and talk to them. Your sessions can be your safe space to vent without consequence. But for CJ’s benefit, you mustn’t let your emotions get on top of you during family therapy, no matter how shocked and upset you are by some of the things she might tell you.’
What the hell did Megan know that was so awful?
When Jamie stood to leave, Megan said ‘This isn’t your fault. CJ’s old enough to be responsible for her own actions.’
She nodded and ignored her just like she’d ignored everyone else.
Of course it was her fault. She couldn’t control her emotions and as a result her daughter had tried to kill herself. Jamie had no idea how she was ever going to cope with that amount of guilt.
***
At home that night, with Jess asleep in her room, Jamie’s heart wouldn’t stop racing. She was shaky and agitated. Her mother was under enough stress already and she didn’t want to add to it, so she hadn’t told her about the therapy session.
Jamie wished she had someone else to talk to, a real friend she could turn to. Years ago, her life had always been about Scott to the exclusion of anyone else. And after Scott, between raising CJ, juggling a career and helping her parents with her father’s deteriorating health, she’d never made finding friends a priority. She wished she could turn back the clock now.
And then she remembered that she did have a friend. She picked up her phone and messaged Andrew.
Hey, are you around?
As soon as the dots of his reply message bounced up and down on her screen, the crushing weight of her loneliness eased a little.
I’m here, boss.
She hit the call button.
‘Hi. You okay?’ His voice was low and comforting.
‘I had a meeting with CJ’s psych this morning.’
‘How did it go?’
She told him how Megan had strongly hinted that something awful had happened between CJ and Finn.
‘Try not to freak out because whatever’s gone down, CJ’s still here and she’ll be okay. She’s got you and the psych to help her.’
‘I’m imagining the worst, you know. I’m terrified that he raped her.’ Her voice shook.
‘No, he wouldn’t have,’ Andrew said definitely. ‘The psych would have to report a crime like that to the police. She would have told you.’
Jamie let go of her breath. ‘Oh, of course, you’re right. Oh God, thank you.’ She took a ragged breath. ‘Andrew, I feel like I’m to blame for CJ trying to . . . to kill herself.’
‘That’s ridiculous! Why do you think that?’
‘The psych said that CJ didn’t want to open up to me about everything that was going on with her. She felt like she had to protect me from it all. I always thought I was the kind of mum she could turn to, but I’m not. I keep thinking, if only I was different, if I was a better mum, then she’d be fine right now.’
‘Jamie, you’re the best mother I know. I mean that,’ Andrew soothed. ‘CJ adores you.’
‘She did before, I’m sure she doesn’t anymore.’ Jamie stopped for a second. ‘I’ve been lying to her about who her father is for her whole life. And she found out.’
There was a silence. Then Andrew cleared his throat. ‘I thought you said you didn’t know who her father was?’
Jamie gulped. ‘I lied about it to you too. I lied to everyone.’
‘Oh.’
‘I’m sorry.’
‘Have you lied to me about anything else?’
‘No, nothing. I couldn’t tell you when I hadn’t even told CJ. I’ve never lied to you about anything else. Please believe me.’
He sighed. ‘I believe you.’ There was more silence before he asked, ‘Does CJ’s father know he has a daughter?’
‘No.’
‘Oh, Jamie. What’s going on?’
‘It’s a long story. Are you up for it?’
‘Yeah, go on. Tell me.’
So she told him.
‘You’re shitting me,’ he said when she was done. ‘Scott Gunn?’
‘Uh-huh.’
‘Holy crap. I did not see that coming! You’re bloody famous!’
For the first time all week, Jamie laughed. ‘You’re an idiot, you know that?’
‘Yeah, I’m the one who’s the idiot here,’ he replied, laughing with her. ‘Seriously though, what happens now? You going to tell him?’
‘I’m pretty sure CJ will want to get in touch with him, so yeah I think I will.’
‘And what’s the deal there? Is he single? Do you still have feelings for him?’
Jamie couldn’t say for sure if she was right, but she could swear there was a jealous note to that question.
Before she could reply, he quickly added. ‘Sorry. It’s none of my business. That was a dumb arse thing to ask, just me being nosy as usual.’
But the thing was, it was never usual for Andrew to be nosy.
‘What’s happening at work?’ she asked, desperate to end the awkwardness. ‘Anything interesting I need to know about?’
By the time they ended the call, she felt less lonely.
6 DECEMBER 1969
Flower Child,
God I miss you. I’m going crazy without you. I’m lonelier every day that I don’t hear from you with this damn postal strike.
Every day I don’t hear from you, my mind plays tricks on me about you breaking up with me. There’s a new Elvis song, it’s on the radio all the time. It’s called ‘Suspicious Minds’. That song messes with my head.
We only have to get through the next nine months, Jess. We can’t let this war destroy us. There’s not a lot of blokes left who still have their girlfriends from home. Those Dear John letters were coming in thick and fast before the strike started. One of the doctors here got a letter from his mother saying that his fiancée was pregnant to someone else and had skipped town. Some letters are even from wives.
The blokes in my barrack have been ribbing me, saying you might have already written me a Dear John letter weeks ago and it’ll turn up when the strike lifts. I can’t help but worry.
When the others see your photos and say what a looker you are and that there’s no way you wouldn’t have found someone else by the time I get home, Mick, he’s the only one who comes to my defence. He told the boys in the mess the other night that if there’s one bloke who’ll keep his girl while we’re here it’ll be me. Who would’ve thought the kid would end up becoming my best mate? Christ, I hope he’s right about us.
There are a couple of long-termers in the hospital and neither of them ever get any letters from home. So the Padre started bringing in letters from the girls in his parish back in Geelong. The poor buggers got attached to the girls writing to them. One of them even told me he was going to track his Sharon down as soon as he got home. I reckon ‘his’ Sharon has wounded soldiers all over South Vietnam thinking she’s their Sharon too. Now he’s pining because the letters have stopped with the strike.
Without your letters and tapes to look forward to, I’m bored. I didn’t come all the way here just to rot in this unit where all I do is treat tinea after tinea. And if it’s not tinea then it’s just that same old prickly heat rash, green ant bite, VD. It’s always the same.
I’ll never get the smell of this place out of my nose. Ever.
And I’m never, ever dry. My clothes are wet when I put them on in the morning. Even the inside of my boots are wet. The sheets are soaked every night and the smell of sweat in the barracks is enough to make anyone sick. The humidity builds up all day and then bang on 4 pm it starts to rain. You can set your watch by it. Every day is the same.
I’m up to two packs of durries a day now. I’ve started coughing too, like the others. If the VC don’t kill us, the smokes probably will.
Please wait for me, Jess. Please.
Frank
9 MARCH 2018
CJ wondered if her mum was as uncomfortable as she was to be sitting in Meg
an’s office for their first family therapy session. She looked it, by the way she was fidgeting on the other end of the couch.
Even though Megan had explained how important it was that Jamie know all the facts, CJ was still nervous about coming clean with her mum about everything that had happened with Finn. Especially after she’d lied to her face and to the police.
But this session wouldn’t just be a confessional for her. She also had lots of answers she wanted from Jamie. The brief discussion she’d had with her about Scott Gunn had seemed less significant than everything else going on when she was still in hospital. But over the last couple of days, since coming to the psych clinic and having more time to think, she’d felt a growing rage at having been denied her father her whole life.
So when Megan asked her where she’d like to start the session, CJ looked straight at her mum and burst into tears. ‘How could you keep my dad a secret for so long? Didn’t you feel guilty?’
Jamie’s eyes instantly filled with tears too. ‘Of course I felt guilty. Terribly guilty.’
‘Did you really, or are you just saying that?’
‘Honey, every day, every single day, for your whole life, the guilt ate at me that you were growing up without him. And that he was missing out on you too. Especially when you started singing and playing guitar and I began to see so much more of him in you. With every birthday you had, I felt guilty that he wasn’t there to watch you blow out your candles. I felt guilty that he didn’t see you lose your first tooth, learn to ride a bike, perform on stage.’
‘If you felt so guilty, then why didn’t you say something?’ CJ couldn’t keep the bitterness out of her voice. ‘Why did you keep us from each other? Especially when you saw how much I loved him as a singer? You watched me performing his songs, you watched me put up posters of him in my room. How could you stay silent through all of that?’
‘I’m so sorry, CJ. I know how wrong it was that I kept him a secret. It wasn’t a coincidence that he became your favourite singer. I’d played you his music and sang his songs to you as lullabies ever since you were a baby. I guess I thought it was a way to have him in your world without him actually being there. But then when it became obvious that you had his gift and you asked for a guitar for your eighth birthday, it terrified me. I realised how much of him was actually inside you, and I worried that you’d head down that same destructive path he had if I encouraged you to follow in his footsteps.’ She looked at the floor and shook her head. ‘You have to understand, he was a drug addict, a violent alcoholic. I couldn’t expose you to that danger.’
