by Tess Woods
‘And what about when he went to rehab and got clean?’ CJ cried. ‘That was two whole years ago. Last year there was that big documentary about his recovery and we watched it together. How could you sit through that and not even tell me then?’
Jamie reached for a tissue. ‘I’m sorry,’ she whispered. ‘I was scared that you’d run away to Nashville.’
‘Were you ever going to tell me? Or were you planning to keep it from me forever?’
‘No, I was always going to tell you. I made a vow to myself to tell you when you finished high school. I thought if I waited, at least then you could make a choice as an adult rather than as a child. I told myself that it gave him another couple of years to stay sober and then if you decided to go and be with him in Nashville, you would at least have graduated by then. I was planning to tell you at the end of this year, I swear to you I was. But then, well, you found out and here we are. I never wanted you to find out by accident. I desperately regret speaking to that nurse about it when you were in the room.’
‘But I didn’t even care about finishing high school. And you knew that! Do you know what was more important to me? Having a dad!’ The betrayal, the hurt, it was too huge to deal with. ‘And, by the way,’ she spat, ‘you telling the nurse wasn’t even how I found out anyway. I’d already heard you and Nan talking about my dad. I just didn’t know who he was.’
‘Oh my God! When did you hear me talk to her about him?’
She gulped, remembering. ‘Just before I tried to kill myself. You said he was a drug addict. You said you gave up on me, that I had his genes.’
‘I thought you were asleep.’ Her words came out in a croak. ‘Is that what made you . . . do that?’
The memory of that night made CJ shiver. ‘I was already planning it because of Finn anyway.’
‘What did he do to you? What did Finn do?’ Jamie’s voice was desperate.
CJ exchanged a look with Megan.
‘Jamie,’ Megan began, ‘CJ first self-harmed soon after she started going out with Finn. I have a recording here of what she told me in our first session and I have CJ’s permission to play it for you. Are you ready to hear it?’
Jamie nodded warily.
‘Ready, CJ?’ Megan gave her an encouraging smile.
‘Yep,’ she whispered.
Megan hit play on the recording. CJ was surprised at how calm she felt listening to herself talk about Finn, the sex, the cutting, the drugs, the lying.
Her voice floated out of the device. ‘He gave me this shirt that was his from Seattle and then he started messaging me about taking a selfie. So I did, but he didn’t like that one, he told me to undo the buttons . . .’
Jamie wriggled closer to CJ on the couch and held her hand.
CJ heard herself describe the thrill and the pain of cutting — ‘I know it’s weird but it made me feel really happy, like as happy as you could get. And then all of a sudden it would be the worst sting ever and I’d want to scream because it was so bad, but I never screamed. I would just press the towel against it until the stinging stopped. And I felt really lonely afterwards because I was in pain, and Mum and Nan didn’t know so they’d ask me to do stuff like unstack the dishwasher or take the rubbish out, and it really hurt to bend over and do those things but I couldn’t tell them it hurt because then they’d want to know why.’
She also spoke of the moments she was most ashamed of — ‘I hated how he pulled my hair when I went down on him, and I tried to tell him not to do that because it hurt, but he held onto my head and pushed it towards him really hard so I couldn’t speak. And I felt like crying, but I didn’t because I wanted him to think I liked it. And I hate myself for that. For trying to please him when he was so awful to me. I mean, what’s wrong with me?’
Her words filled the room, making the air heavy with the weight of them.
Jamie didn’t gasp or flinch or even cover her mouth with her hand like CJ expected her to. Instead she sat completely still and listened. Only her grip tightened on CJ’s hand.
The recording continued — ‘I didn’t even remember going down on him for a couple of days afterwards. Like, I literally couldn’t remember what happened. It was almost as if I blacked out or something. But then in the shower I remembered everything and I ended up cutting myself so badly that I could hardly even walk for a few days.’
‘CJ,’ Megan’s voice came through on the recording, ‘can I ask you something? Are you feeling an urge to cut right now?’
There was a long silence.
‘Yes, I am.’ More silence. ‘How did you know?’
‘I thought you might have from what you told me earlier about your self-harm triggers. You seem quite angry with yourself at the moment. Cutting lets you act on that anger, it’s a way you can punish yourself. And it’s also a distraction, so it makes you feel temporarily better too. It’s an addiction, no different from needing a cigarette.’
‘Oh. Okay.’
‘Tell me, what does this urge to cut feel like right now? Is it making your heart beat faster, do you feel anxious, sweaty? Can you describe it to me?’
‘It’s more of a pull.’
‘What kind of pull?’ Megan asked.
‘Like a pulling in my tummy. Drawing me in. The best way I can describe it is like I’m really hungry.’
‘In our sessions together, CJ, I’m going to discuss strategies with you to help you ride out that pull when it comes and not be drawn into it. I’ll teach you ways for you to stay safe whenever you get that pull in your tummy.’
‘Okay.’
‘But, go on, you were saying that you didn’t cry in front of Finn so he would think you liked it . . .’
And so it went on.
At the end of the tape, her mum turned to her. It looked like she was trying hard not to cry. ‘You’re a very brave person to talk about all of that, honey. Thank you for sharing it with me. I promise you, I’ll do everything I can to help you.’
‘I’m sorry, Mum,’ CJ broke down. ‘After everything you taught me about consent and respecting my body. I lied to you about smoking dope because I was so scared about you ever finding out about the video. I stuffed up everything.’
Jamie shook her head vigorously. ‘Don’t be sorry. We’ve all made mistakes, especially when we’re in love. You trusted your boyfriend and he betrayed you. He’s the one who should feel ashamed. Not you. I’m just so sorry that I betrayed you as well with all the lies about Scott. I wish I could turn back the clock and do it over properly. But I can’t. All I can do is promise you complete honesty from now on.’
Jamie held her while she cried. And just like when she was younger, having her hold her and whisper to her that everything would be okay, did make her feel better.
CJ took a deep breath, wiped her eyes and said, ‘I want you to tell my dad about me.’
Jamie gave her a small smile. ‘Of course.’
‘What if he doesn’t want to know me, though?’
‘He will,’ Jamie replied confidently.
‘How do you know that?’
‘I haven’t spoken to him for many years but I knew him very well before that. After everything he’s been through, I know that finding out about you will be the best news he’s ever had.’
CJ had to admit to herself that maybe family therapy wouldn’t be so terrible after all.
11 JULY 2000
On News Tonight, we’re bringing you all the insider details in the breaking Scott Gunn case. Stay with us as this drama unfolds. If you’ve just tuned in, Australian singing megastar Scott Gunn has been arrested in Nashville after he was found in possession of a substance thought to be cocaine. Police were called to Gunn’s Nashville residence after neighbours complained about erratic behaviour. In addition to the alleged cocaine, it’s reported that Gunn was also in possession of other illicit drugs. This isn’t Scott Gunn’s first run-in with the law since moving to Nashville from Melbourne, Australia. Last month, he appeared in court after a brawl with patrons at The
Bluebird Cafe that left one man needing an ambulance. Gunn is the third celebrity this month to be arrested for drug possession and, if convicted, he faces a fine of up to one hundred thousand dollars and six months in jail. We’ll be back after the break with our reporter who’s on standby at the Gunn residence in Nashville right now, ready to bring you the most up-to-date developments in this latest celebrity scandal.
It was the same footage Jamie had already seen on the morning news — Scott staggering out of his palatial home to the waiting police car. He was topless and barefoot, wearing ripped jeans, and handcuffed with an armed policeman on either side of him. And then there was the mugshot. In it, he was bleary-eyed and had a grey tinge to his skin, but grinning from ear to ear. He was still as high as a kite.
Jamie reached for the remote to mute the sound.
Who was this stranger? What had they done to him? With a full beard and his hair a dreadlocked mess, he was almost unrecognisable.
Their break-up had been clean — no phone calls, no letters. He hadn’t even said goodbye when he’d flown out to the States. But she’d been able to cheat and get news of him by following him in the media. He was due to come home for Carols by Candlelight, ahead of an Australian tour to celebrate his new album.
Jamie had originally planned to tell him about the baby then, when she could speak to him face to face. The baby would be a couple of months old by Christmas so he could see his child. Then she’d let him decide how much or how little involvement he wanted.
Deep down she’d hoped that when he saw Charlotte his heart would melt and he’d forget his objections to fatherhood. In her fantasy, he’d say that Nashville wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. They’d reunite and have more children and live happily ever after. As unlikely a fairytale as that was, she had held onto it.
She’d been monitoring him closely, bordering on obsessively if she was honest with herself, for any sign of a new relationship since he’d left. Of course, the magazines had him falling in love with someone different every week — all of them ten times more glamorous and talented than her.
But from what she could tell, he was never seen with the same woman twice. So despite the headlines that screamed, ‘Scott Gunn’s HOT affair with Shania Twain!’ and ‘Aussie hunk Scott Gunn’s secret rendezvous with Britney — what will Justin say?’, Jamie had stayed hopeful that he was still single and would remain that way until she saw him at Christmas.
Until now. Until she stared at a freeze-frame of his drug-addled face. No matter how much she loved him, or how well she thought she knew him, this was his reality now.
She turned off the TV and rubbed her belly. ‘Don’t worry, little one, I’ll protect you.’
22 DECEMBER 1969
Jess, the strike’s over! Finally! I’ve spent tonight going through all the letters from you. Your photos and listening to your voice on tape are the best Christmas gifts a man could ever get.
I have big news. I’m going on a search and destroy operation in Dat Do. I’m replacing a medic who was choppered in to the hospital from an operation out there last night. He’ll be right, though, so don’t worry. I don’t know how long I’ll be gone for, could be two or three months. My job there will be to help destroy the mines, but also be on hand if any of the others need a medic.
But you wouldn’t believe it, guess who’s coming with me? Mick! Can’t seem to get rid of the kid! He jumped on my back like a baby koala when he heard we were going out to the field together. It’ll be good to have someone out there, I know what they mean now when they talk about mateship from the other wars. They thought they could control us becoming good mates by sending us out here at different times and from different parts of the country, but they underestimated us. Mick and I will have each other’s backs, that’s for sure.
Keep writing to me. They’ll bring the letters out once a week or so, and I’ll keep writing too. I know you didn’t want me out on the field, but I’ll stay safe, I promise. I’m finally doing what I came here to do!
Merry Christmas. I miss you. I hope you get the parcel on time that I sent out this morning. I’ll give you a hint about your present — it’s a flower child for my Flower Child.
Love,
Frank
P.S. Wish me luck.
10 MARCH 2018
After a day and a half of no replies to the messages she’d left on Scott’s website and social media accounts, and being given the run-around by his management staff and the people at his talent agency, Jamie finally got through to a receptionist at his record company who sounded sincere when she promised to pass on her urgent message and phone number to Scott, ASAP.
With the time difference between Melbourne and Nashville, Jamie didn’t expect to hear from him until at least the next day. But she had no doubt that he would call her as soon as he received the message she wanted to speak with him. Scott would never ignore her, she was confident of that, even after eighteen years apart.
What she didn’t expect was her phone to ring at the mental health clinic with an American prefix on the number only ten minutes after she’d finished speaking with the woman at the record company. Jamie looked at CJ, who was in bed with her earbuds in, watching YouTube on her laptop. CJ smiled at her and went back to staring at her screen.
‘Hello?’ Jamie answered the phone and held her breath.
There was a delay on the other end and then his voice. ‘Jamie?’
She choked up at the sound of him. ‘Hi.’
‘This is a surprise.’ He sounded choked up too. ‘You okay? Mr and Mrs Stone and everyone?’ His twangy southern accent was thick. She already knew he’d lost all trace of his old Australian accent from all the times she’d seen him talking on TV, but it still felt strange to hear it on the phone.
‘We’re all fine. Mum and Dad are well.’ Which was a lie, but she wasn’t calling him to tell him how sick her dad was and how much trouble her mum was in. ‘How are you?’
‘I’m good, Princess, I’m good.’
Princess. Her heart crashed about in her chest.
‘How’s the weather over there?’ She stumbled on the words.
His old familiar laugh, warm and husky, came through the phone and melted her. God, how she loved that laugh.
‘Are you really calling me after all these years to find out about the weather?’
You can do this. ‘Scott, I have some pretty big news to tell you. I don’t even know where to start, really.’
At the word ‘Scott’, CJ sat up tall in bed and stared at Jamie wide-eyed, ripping her earbuds out.
They held hands.
‘Big news, eh?’ Scott drawled. She could hear the smile in his voice.
She gulped. ‘Actually, yes. Very big news. I don’t know how to say it so I’m just going to come out with it like this. I was pregnant when you left for Nashville. We have a daughter, she’s seventeen.’
His laughter boomed through the phone.
‘Scott, I’m not joking.’
‘Hold up, what now?’ The laughing ended abruptly.
She took a deep breath and let it all out in one go — how she’d kept the pregnancy from him; how she’d wanted to tell him a million times over the years; how CJ had been going through a hard time lately; how she had recently found out he was her father. She tripped over her words in her rush to get out what had been eating her up inside.
Scott listened in silence, and the silence continued after she finished talking. He was quiet for so long Jamie began to worry he’d hung up on her.
‘Scott? Are you still there?’
‘I have a daughter?’ He was obviously crying.
The tears she’d been struggling to hold in escaped. ‘You do,’ she cried. ‘You do. I’m so sorry, Scott. I’m sorry I kept her from you all these years.’
‘What’s she like?’
Jamie looked at CJ. ‘She’s amazing. She has a heart as big as yours and she’s a talented musician. She plays guitar and writes her own songs. She’s smart and kind.
She’s you all over.’
CJ smiled at her. It was the biggest, most genuine smile Jamie had seen from her in months.
‘Where is she now?’
‘She’s right here, next to me. Would you like to say hello?’
CJ shook her head frantically.
‘Can I?’ he asked.
Jamie passed the phone to her with an apologetic shrug.
CJ looked stricken as she placed the phone to her ear. ‘Hello?’ Her voice barely came out. Then she smiled and the tears poured from her. ‘Hi, Dad.’
Jamie stood and gave her a little wave. She left the room and closed the door behind her.
13 MARCH 2018
Jess rubbed her dry itchy eyes and looked at the time on the corner of the laptop screen. 2.08 am. ‘I should be sleeping,’ she grumbled to herself. She dimmed the brightness of the screen and entered another search.
It was up to her to find a treatment that actually worked. She couldn’t rely on the pig-headed medical profession, stuck in their ways and thumbing their noses at anything new or different. Especially that cocky specialist, who’d looked at her with pity and revulsion when she’d sat in his office a few months ago, trying her damnedest not to cry as she’d presented him with her latest findings.
‘Mrs Stone, your husband has advanced Parkinson’s disease. I’m sorry, but what you’re after is a miracle. I’m not in the business of miracles. I promise you the medications we have him on are the most effective ones he could possibly be taking. And this —’ he’d waved his hand over the pages she had photocopied and taken in to show him, ‘this is nothing but a whole heap of hocus pocus preying on gullible people who’ll believe anything they read.’ He’d pointed at one of the pages and read out loud, ‘“Reversing the Symptoms of Parkinson’s Disease with Nasal Irrigation”. Really, Mrs Stone? You’re a qualified nurse and you actually believe this rubbish could work?’ He’d given the papers back to her. ‘Please, stop looking for a miracle. Your husband has an incurable progressive disease. There’s no medicine on earth at the present moment that will reverse it.’
