No Worries

by Bill Condon

  ‘You’re not wrong there, Ekka.’

  ‘There’s no hope for you blokes.’ Bob took a long puff of his smoke and shook his head. ‘Not a hope in the world.’

  ‘Come on, Dreamy,’ yelled Eric, ‘move yerself. What are yer waitin’ for? A gold-plated invitation?’

  Two weeks went by. I got a postcard from Emma that didn’t say much — I didn’t really care how cold it was. I felt gutted all over again.

  Then at last the phone call I’d been hoping for.

  ‘Bri, I’m having the best time!’

  She sounded like she was right next to me. I wished I could touch her.

  ‘You have to come here one day! This is such a cool place!’

  So excited. So Emma.

  We’d only talked for about five minutes when she ran out of coins.

  ‘We’re going to be cut off any second, Bri.’

  ‘Okay. Thanks for ringing, Emma. Keep on having fun.’

  ‘Bri.’

  ‘Yeah?’

  ‘Hey … I miss you.’

  I hung onto the phone long after she was gone.

  32

  Life was fine again — a few words from Emma was all it took. It made it easier to bundle myself off to work each night. More and more the milk factory felt like a second home to me. And even my real home was feeling pretty good. Mum was still taking her tablets, still in control.

  The phone rang one morning. Mum was on it in a flash. I heard her talking calmly. As soon as she hung up she let out a wild whoop and ran through the house yelling her head off.

  ‘Did you get a job, Mum?’

  ‘Almost! I’m so close! They just rang to tell me I’ve been short-listed! It’s an office job! There were fifty applicants and they’ve got it down to five — and I’m one of them!’

  She almost leapt into my arms.

  I wanted to warn her about getting her hopes up too high, but the moment was too good, too rare, to spoil.

  ‘Good on you, Mum. You’ll get it.’

  Mum went into her mind-reading routine.

  ‘But if I don’t, the world won’t end,’ she said, ‘so stop worrying. I’m normal now. You can trust me.’

  Her interview was a week away. She used the time to get her hair cut and styled, buy some new clothes and shoes, and brush up on her computer skills. Mum was putting an awful lot of eggs in this one basket, but I tried not to think about it.

  Soon it was time for my driving test. I made the mistake of mentioning it at work the night before I was to go for it, and copped heaps.

  ‘Drivin’ licence?’ said Eric. ‘You’d be flat out gettin’ a dog licence, Dreamy.’

  ‘I think you should postpone it for a while,’ said Norm.

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Well, in another twenty or thirty years I won’t be driving any more — I’d feel a whole lot safer if you could wait till then.’

  ‘Good one, Normie.’

  My ‘new’ positive mum was there to pick me up in the morning, full of good vibes for me and the test.

  ‘I know you’re going to get it, no trouble at all,’ she told me. ‘After you’ve had a sleep I’ll take you. Okay?’

  I didn’t want her to take me. I hated the idea. But I knew it was important to her.

  ‘Fine with me.’

  ‘You sure you wouldn’t rather someone else go with you?’ she said. Meaning Dad.

  I’d much rather have gone with him and she must have known it.

  ‘No, Mum. You’re the one I want.’

  She grinned with pride. And just as quickly turned away to hide it from me.

  ‘But no lessons before we get there, okay?’

  ‘Bri, I would never do that to you again. I’ll drive you there and wish you luck. Then it’s all up to you.’

  ‘Thanks, Mum.’

  That night I went to work with a cap pulled down low over my eyes. As I expected, Eric and Norm didn’t hold back.

  ‘Well, Dreamy, is it still safe to go out on the road or did you get yer licence?’

  ‘Don’t listen to them, Rattlehead.’ Bob got off his stool to put the kettle on. ‘I’ve got confidence in you, lad.’

  ‘Go on,’ said Norm. ‘Tell us the bad news.’

  I couldn’t help smiling as I lifted my cap. Underneath it I’d stowed the licence.

  ‘Piece of cake,’ I said, showing it to them. ‘It was easy.’

  ‘Well, that’s it for me,’ said Norm. ‘I’m selling my car and buyin’ a tank.’

  ‘I’m leavin’ the bloody country,’ chipped in Eric.

  ‘Is that a promise, Rattlehead?’ Bob asked.

  If Norm and Eric were like circus clowns, then Bob was the ringmaster. I suppose that made me part of the circus, too. I’d like to think I was the gawky kid in the front row, eyes wide, munching popcorn as the show unfolded around me. More likely I was just another one of the clowns. I didn’t mind too much. I knew I wasn’t going to stay at the factory forever. There’d be other jobs and better ones. But for now it was okay. I fitted in. I was one of the blokes.

  After the test I drove Mum to a cafe. My shout. We got the biggest slice of cheese cake in the display cabinet, with a huge helping of ice cream, and two spoons. Bugger the diet.

  ‘I always knew you could do it,’ she said. ‘I’m proud of you, Bri.’

  It was so good being with Mum when she was okay. Her eyes were clear and she was relaxed and that rubbed off on me. I felt like dancing on the table.

  ‘Thanks, Mum. I’m proud of you, too.’

  And I was. I really was.

  33

  It was a Friday. I was looking forward to having two nights off work. I’d got in some DVDs, was thinking about going fishing, or maybe a long bike ride — see how far I could get — maybe have a swim somewhere. Life was looking good. But it was also the day of Mum’s job interview — her big chance.

  She’d gone off in the morning smiling and happy, assuring me she was ready to cope with whatever happened. Now it was three o’clock and the good feelings I’d had before vanished the moment Mum came home.

  She rushed into the bathroom and rummaged through some drawers, then flew past me and into her room, crashing the door shut behind her.

  Highs followed by lows. I was always expecting it but I was never prepared.

  I knocked.

  ‘How did the job interview go, Mum?’ As if I needed to ask.

  ‘GO AWAY!’

  Oh.

  I knocked again and this time there was no answer. I couldn’t hear her crying, either. No sound meant she was locking it down inside, and when it got out there would be an explosion.

  Forget it, Bri. Her problem. She’ll get over it.

  I must have watched TV for about half an hour. Or tried to.

  She’ll get hungry soon and come out for something to eat.

  She’s not going to hurt herself, she never does.

  I made a sandwich but took only one bite. Then I remembered the bathroom. Why had she been going through the drawers?

  I went in to have a look around. The drawer was still open. A mug of water was on the sink. And two pill bottles. Empty. I remembered seeing Auntie Joan with them. I didn’t know what they were for or how many pills had been in them. I just knew it was trouble.

  I ran back to the bedroom door.

  ‘Mum. Let me in.’

  Silence.

  ‘Mum. You want me to wreck this door? I don’t care. I’ll do it.’

  I took a run-up and rammed my shoulder at the door, as hard as I could.

  Thud.

  My shoulder throbbed. The door didn’t budge.

  I yelled.

  ‘Okay, I’ll call the police. They’ll get you out of there!’

  I begged.

  ‘Be sensible, Mum. Please let me in.’

  Nothing.

  I went outside, picked up a chair. It seemed stupid to smash a window. What if there was nothing wrong? She’d kill me.

  ‘Mum!

  I slapp
ed my hand against the window.

  Still no answer. Only one thing I could do.

  I covered my eyes with my jacket and thumped the chair against the window, breaking the glass. I cleared away the shards and crawled in.

  Mum was on the floor, her eyes half open.

  ‘Did you take these, Mum?’ I showed her the empty bot tles. ‘You have to tell me if you took them.’

  ‘Let me sleep.’

  She didn’t look at me. Her voice was cold and tired.

  ‘I’m not leaving until you tell me.’

  ‘Let me sleep.’

  ‘Then I’m calling an ambulance.’

  I picked up the phone on her bedside table. As soon as I started dialing, Mum sprang to life and grabbed it away from me.

  ‘I just wanted to sleep! Why can’t you go away and let me sleep!’

  Mum was hitting and scratching, trying to bite me. I wrestled her to the floor, got on top of her and tried to pin her arms down. She grabbed the phone line and wrapped the cord around her neck.

  ‘Stop it, Mum!’

  She pulled the ends tight.

  I wrenched the cord away from her.

  ‘Let me die!’

  ‘No! No! I won’t!’

  I rolled her over so she was face-down, put all my weight on her.

  ‘You’re hurting me!’

  ‘I’m sorry — I’m sorry.’

  I took off my belt and used it to tie her hands behind her back. She kept fighting me. I yanked the laces from my shoes and looped them tight around her ankles. I tied up my mum.

  Now she made no attempt at words. Just tears and sobs gushed out of her.

  When I heard the ambulance out front, I untied Mum. I didn’t want anyone to see her like that. She was drowsy by then, so it was safe.

  There were two paramedics, a man and a woman. While the man checked her vital signs, I filled the woman in on what I knew.

  ‘I think she’s taken these pills.’

  I gave her the empty bottles.

  ‘Are you sure? Did you see her take them?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘What’s her name?’

  ‘Ruby.’

  ‘Hello, Ruby.’ The woman knelt beside Mum, gently stroking her hair. ‘Now what have you done to yourself? What have you taken, Ruby? You have to tell us so we can help you.’

  ‘My mind went blank,’ Mum mumbled to herself. ‘I couldn’t answer their questions. Couldn’t work the computer program. Couldn’t do anything right …’

  The paramedics helped her walk to the ambulance, one on each side for support.

  ‘Brian, why couldn’t you let me die?’

  I rode up front with the woman. Mum was on a stretcher in the back, the other paramedic monitoring her condition.

  ‘Her heart’s strong.’ The woman paramedic tapped my palm reassuringly. ‘Blood pressure’s good. Tough customer, your mother.’ She nodded to herself. ‘She’s going to be fine.’

  As soon as we arrived, I rang Dad.

  ‘Mum’s taken an overdose.’

  ‘Oh shit.’

  ‘Can you come to the hospital?’

  A long, long pause.

  ‘I thought maybe you could talk to her …’

  ‘And say what? I’d be the last one she’d take any notice of.’

  ‘Then don’t say anything. Come and sit here with me. Help me get her home.’

  When he hesitated again, I lost it.

  ‘Aw forget it! I wanted you to be my father for once — that’s all I wanted — just to have my father there when I needed him — but it’s all too hard for you, isn’t it? It’s just too bloody hard!’

  It surprised me when that came out. Surprised him, too.

  ‘Hey, hey — hold on a minute. What’s up with yer?’

  ‘Nothing’s up! Everything’s great! Mum’s tried to kill herself, Dad. What do you think’s up with me?’

  ‘It’s just that I’ve been through all this before, mate’.

  ‘But I haven’t. I need you here.’

  ‘Fair enough,’ he said. ‘I’m on me way.’

  * *

  In twenty minutes he was beside me. We spent the next two hours waiting, which was probably the longest time I’d spent with him for years. Not a beer in sight. Not a race call. Only me and Dad.

  ‘So Bri, me boy, tell us the story,’.

  He alternated between nods and a shake of the head, but I knew he was totally focused.

  When I’d finished, he asked, ‘You ever thought about walkin’ away, son?’

  A direct hit. I thought about that every second minute. And I was ashamed of it.

  ‘No.’

  ‘Come on, this is yer old man. You must hate the sight of ‘er sometimes.’

  ‘I just wish she was different.’

  ‘She’s never gunna change, mate.’

  ‘I know that.’

  ‘We can get a place of our own. Clear out. Be just us boys against the world … but I don’t suppose you’d be in that, would yer?’

  ‘I can’t leave her, Dad.’

  ‘Didn’t think so.’

  He was quiet for a moment.

  ‘Okay. From now on, I’ll hang around home more often. Poke me head in now and then and see how yer mother’s goin’. Nothin’ too friendly — wouldn’t want to encourage her, make her think I like her. But I will keep an eye on her. I’ll stay home more of a weekend — give the fish a break for a change. Give you some time to yourself too. How does that sound?’

  I’d always loved my Dad, but never more than at that moment.

  ‘That sounds pretty good,’ I told him.

  ‘Done deal.’

  A few minutes later a nurse came in.

  ‘Your mother’s awake now. The tablets she took were fairly mild. They were sleeping tablets but an alternative kind — natural rather than chemical. They’ve been pumped out of her now and she’s okay. You can see her any time you want.’

  I started to go but Dad lagged behind.

  ‘You coming in?’

  ‘I was just thinkin’, yer mother might not want me here. Could be embarrassed. Know what I mean?’

  I never knew Dad thought of things like that.

  ‘She probably would be,’ I said.

  ‘You be all right if I leave yer the car?’

  ‘Sure.’

  He tossed me the keys and headed for the exit, then he stopped and turned.

  ‘Hey, Bri, you know how you look after yer mother so good?’

  ‘Yeah?’

  ‘Well, are yer gunna look after me like that when I’m old and feeble?’

  ‘No way!’

  He left, chuckling to himself.

  A stocky guy with glasses sat on the edge of Mum’s bed, writing on a clipboard. He wore a suit with a bright blue tie. I looked more closely and saw it was a Mickey Mouse tie.

  His name was a blur to me, he said it so fast, but I did hear him say he was a psychiatrist.

  ‘So you would be Brian?’

  ‘Yep.’

  ‘Your mother and I have had a long talk, Brian, and she assures me that she has no plans to harm herself. Is that correct, Mrs Talbot?’

  Mum stared down at the bedsheets.

  ‘I need to hear it from you, Mrs Talbot. Is that correct?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘The thing is,’ he said to me, ‘your mother can’t stay here because this is for emergency patients only — there’s a shortage of beds, as always. The other alternative is a psych ward.’ He looked back at Mum, assessing her one more time. ‘Not a good place to be if you can possibly avoid it.’

  ‘I won’t go there!’

  The doctor bit down on his lower lip.

  ‘So for these reasons,’ he said to me, ‘I’d consider allowing her to go home.’

  ‘But how can you do that?’ I argued. ‘She’s only just got here.’

  ‘Stay out of it, Brian. This is between me and the doctor.’

  ‘How can I stay out of it? I might not be able t
o stop you next time.’

  ‘There won’t be a next time.’

  She got out of bed and began searching for her clothes.

  ‘Before you go anywhere,’ the doctor said, as he hopped off the bed, ‘I’d like you to sign this.’

  He took a piece of paper from his pocket.

  ‘What’s that?’

  ‘A contract. It’s not legally binding. You won’t get sued. This is a simple question of honour. It says that you promise you will not try to harm yourself in any way when you leave here. The contract is valid for one month. By the end of that time I’m confident you’ll be back on track.’

  Mum probably couldn’t believe her good luck. I couldn’t believe how stupid it was.

  ‘Do you really think she’s going to take any notice of a contract?’ I said.

  ‘Yes, I believe she will.’ He took off his glasses to clean them. ‘I’ve had success with this in the past and there’s no reason why it won’t be the case again.’

  He placed the clipboard under his arm and glanced at his watch as if he was running late for something much more important than me and Mum.

  ‘I’ll have a talk with your regular psychiatrist — I know Doctor Rezni. I’ll bring her up to date on what’s been happening. No doubt she’ll want to schedule another appointment fairly quickly.’

  ‘All right,’ Mum said, not caring.

  ‘But until you sign this contract I won’t feel happy about letting you leave the hospital.’

  ‘Give me a pen.’

  She scrawled her name quickly.

  ‘We have a contract now, Mrs Talbot,’ he reminded her. ‘I expect you to honour it. I’m trusting you. Can I do that?’

  ‘I signed it, didn’t I? Now where can I get changed?’

  34

  Home.

  Mum went to bed. It was only seven o’clock. She closed all the curtains and buried herself under the sheets.

  ‘Can I get you something to eat, Mum? Cup of tea?’

  ‘Leave me.’

  Her voice was empty of everything except pain.

  ‘I’m sick of it. I don’t want to be alive.’

  My legs started shaking. I couldn’t stop them.

  ‘Mum …’

  ‘Just go.’

  I sat at the kitchen table, and only moved when the doorbell rang.