Bobby eagerly marched ahead of the adults. ‘Follow me, everyone, I know the way to go,’ he said confidently.
Liz and Pete smiled at each other as they walked along holding hands. ‘Has he been to the Botanic Gardens before?’ Pete asked.
‘Yeah, loads of times with his friends,’ Liz said as she adjusted the bag with the picnic blanket and Bobby’s soccer ball inside.
Pete was carrying a bag of tableware and water. ‘Guess that’s another thing I’ve been missing,’ he said a little guiltily.
‘Well, you’re catching up now, so I wouldn’t worry about it,’ Liz said.
Wati was following behind with the cooler bag full of food. As they walked further into the Botanic Gardens, a peaceful gurgling sound from a small artificial stream filled their ears and drowned out the noise of the nearby traffic on Holland Road. Night was just starting to creep in and the change in temperature was pushing a breeze into the air that wafted up the sweet smell of decaying foliage.
As they rounded a bend and came upon Swan Lake, Bobby turned up the hill and yelled out, ‘Hey, everybody, up here’s where we can have our picnic.’
There were a few other families picnicking with some children playing soccer, but the slope was nowhere near crowded. As they walked up the slope, Pete looked at a tembusu tree standing partway up the grassed hill. Its outstretched branch was propped up by a metal frame, betraying its age. The image jogged Pete’s memory and he paused.
‘What’s up?’ Liz looked at Pete.
‘I just want to check something,’ he said as he brought out his wallet and pulled out a five-dollar note. He held it up to compare the image on the note to the tree in front of them. ‘Yep, it’s the exact same tree. I can’t believe that I’ve been running through here all this time and never noticed it,’ Pete said with surprise.
Liz looked at the five-dollar note, smiled and said, ‘Yeah, that’s it. That’s awesome.’
Bobby stopped and pointed to a spot on the grass. ‘Right here. Here’s where we should put the mat,’ he directed.
Pete put the five-dollar note back in his wallet. ‘Looks as good a place as any,’ he said.
‘Yep, fine with me,’ Liz said.
‘Hey, could you open your bag for a bit?’ Pete asked.
‘Yeah sure,’ Liz replied and unzipped her bag while it was still on her shoulder.
Pete reached in and took out a child-sized soccer ball, which he tossed to Bobby. ‘Hey, Bobby, why don’t you kick your ball around for a bit while we set up? I’ll be over in a minute.’
Bobby dropped the ball on the ground and said excitedly, ‘Zuqiu!’
Pete gave Liz a quizzical look. ‘I think it’s Chinese for soccer. Miss Miranda says he’s a bit of a whiz at Mandarin,’ Liz answered.
Pete was impressed.
Liz took out the picnic rug and spread it out on the ground. Pete and Wati quickly started to pile things on top of the rug to prevent it from being blown away.
‘Can I leave the rest to you guys?’ Pete said. ‘I’ll go and keep Bobby occupied.’
‘Sure, but you’ve only got a few minutes. I don’t want the burgers getting cold,’ Liz replied.
Pete nodded and ran off to catch up with Bobby, who was halfway down the hill dribbling the soccer ball. ‘Hey Bobby, can I play?’
‘Sure Daddy. You just go and stand back up the hill over there and I’ll kick the ball to you,’ Bobby instructed.
‘OK buddy, when you’re ready.’
Bobby took a big run up to the ball and kicked it as hard as he could, but it made it only halfway back up the hill towards Pete. And just as Pete was about to run down the hill and kick it back to Bobby, Bobby shouted, ‘No Daddy, I’ll get it.’ He continued running up the hill to land another kick on the ball without a misstep.
The ball ended up reaching Pete with pace to spare. He smiled proudly and then gently kicked the ball back down the hill. Bobby ran further up the hill and landed a kick with only a modest break in his stride.
Wow, he’s really growing up, Pete thought.
Pete trapped the ball and then noticed Bobby was closing in on him. ‘No, you don’t,’ he said as he quickly turned and started to dribble the ball uphill.
Bobby let out a giggle. ‘I’m going to tackle you, Daddy,’ he said, trying to kick the ball away from Pete.
Pete toyed with Bobby for a few seconds and then let him get the ball away from him. ‘Got it!’ Bobby cheered and charged back down the hill with the ball running a little ahead of him.
At that moment, Liz yelled, ‘OK boys, time for dinner,’ and waved them over to the picnic mat.
Bobby dribbled the ball to the edge of the mat and Liz handed Pete a packet of wet wipes to clean Bobby’s and his own hands. He surveyed the expansive spread on the blanket, his eyes lingering on the plate full of patties, which the beetroot had coloured and moistened so that they looked as though they had been cooked especially rare.
‘Wow, this is an impressive spread,’ Pete said.
‘OK then, shall we?’ Liz asked and picked up some cutlery to start constructing a hamburger for Bobby. Pete watched her go to work and then started on his own burger.
Broad, flat slices of sourdough made it easy to pile ingredients into the hamburger and Pete loaded it with caramelised onions before the other ingredients, fearing they might be the only appetising part of the burger. He lifted the stack to his mouth and was surprised by what his taste buds and nose sensed. He nodded his head in approval as he chewed and swallowed. Then he took a bigger bite and smiled quietly to himself.
Liz surreptitiously glanced over at Pete and smiled with some self-satisfaction. She handed Bobby the bite-sized pieces of his burger she had cut up, which he took up eagerly and started eating. ‘Mmmm, it’s delicious, Mummy,’ Bobby said.
‘Yeah Liz, these burgers are awesome. I was sceptical, but I have to say they’re almost as good as the real thing. Well done, and to you too, Wati,’ he added.
‘Thank you, sir,’ Wati replied.
‘Thanks Pete, I’m glad you like them,’ Liz said, this time letting more of her satisfaction show.
When they had finished eating dinner, Bobby stood up and said, ‘Mummy, I need to go to the bathroom.’
‘OK, sweetie,’ Liz replied and stood up. ‘Let’s go and find one.’
‘I remember where it is from the last time we were here,’ Bobby said and starting to walk up the hill.
Pete looked at Liz and said, ‘I can’t believe how fast he’s growing up.’
‘Neither can I,’ Liz replied and started walking up the hill to catch up with Bobby.
Wati started clearing up and Pete quickly got up to help her pile up plates. He looked back up the hill to see Liz holding Bobby’s hand and heading a long a path, which he guessed was in the direction of the nearest bathroom.
‘Excuse me, sir, I need to go to the bathroom also,’ Wati said when everything, other than the blanket, had been packed up to go.
‘Sure, Wati, I’ll be here to look after things,’ Pete replied.
‘Thank you, sir,’ Wati said and then headed off in the same direction as Liz and Bobby.
Pete leaned back on the blanket and surveyed the gardens before looking up at the sky, which was growing dark. He allowed his thoughts to drift. I think I’m finally starting to get it. There’s really no point to it all unless you’re happy. The problem is you have to find out what makes you happy before you’re too old and busted to do anything about it. I guess I’ve been lucky in a way. Life prompted me to start looking while I’m still relatively young.
He smiled and had one of those rare moments when he felt complete happiness. Pete remembered he was feeling it without antidepressants and his smile broadened. I guess that’s the trifecta - peace, love and happiness, he mused while contentedly enjoying the quiet.
Before he knew it, Bobby came barrelling down the hill and crashed into Pete. ‘I’m tackling you, Daddy,’ he said.
Pete let out a gasp-f
illed laugh and replied, ‘Yes you are, Bobby.’
Liz and Wati came over to the mat as Pete stood up and grabbed the soccer ball. ‘Hey, buddy, if you really want to tackle me, you’ll have to catch me first,’ he said, putting the ball in the crook of his arm and starting to jog up the hill slowly enough to encourage Bobby’s pursuit.
Bobby chased down Pete and grabbed his pants, dragging him to the ground. Then Bobby, like any good rugby player, raked the ball away from Pete, got up and started to run away. ‘Now you’ve got to catch me, Daddy,’ he cried.
Pete smiled, stood up and started to chase down a beaming Bobby. ‘While I still can Bobby,’ he quietly said to himself.
‘You can’t catch me!’ Bobby cried, running off down a path a little too quickly for Wati’s liking. She gave chase.
‘Be careful anak2,’ Wati cried after him.
Liz and Pete continued enjoying their walk in the balmy night air, Liz wrapping an arm around Pete’s waist. ‘You know this was a great idea,’ she said.
‘Thanks; it worked out better than I thought. Those burgers were great by the way. Where’d you get the recipe, the CWA3?’ Pete grinned.
‘Ha ha ha,’ said Liz rolling her eyes.
After a few moments, Pete said, ‘You know, Terry offered me a job in London while I was up there.’
Liz looked at Pete surprised. ‘Really?’
‘It’d be a prop-trader job. It’s a bigger market, so I’d make more money. I’d also deal less with Sales,’ Pete added.
‘Are you going to take it?’ Liz asked hesitantly.
‘Nope.’
‘Are you sure? It sounds like something you’d like to do,’ Liz said.
Pete looked at Liz, confused. ‘You trying to convince me to pack us off to London?’
‘No, I’d actually prefer to stay here. I just want to make sure you’re making a decision you can live with,’ Liz said.
‘I’m pretty sure I am. I’ve chased money long enough and I’d like to try and manage a team down here. We’ve also just got settled here. And Bobby seems very happy,’ Pete added with a grin.
‘You’re thinking about our family, rather than just yourself – I’m impressed.’
‘Thanks,’ Pete said dryly.
Liz leaned in to give him a passionate kiss.
‘Are we on tonight?’ Pete said hopefully.
‘No, we’re not due for a few more days,’ Liz said and let Pete’s disappointment last for a few seconds before adding, ‘But we need to practise, don’t you think?’
Part IV
Pulling up
46
Real friends, part 3
‘Hi Rog, Tuesday night’s a little early in the week for drinks, but it’s good to see you. I hope my jet lag doesn’t cause me to nose dive into my wine,’ Pete added as he sat down at the bar next to Roger. ‘So, how’s the market been treating you?’
Roger shook Pete’s hand. ‘I survived the de-peg and made a fair bit of cash selling the Euro into the ECB meeting. So, I’m a little ahead of budget this year. You?’ he asked.
‘I’ve actually been doing really well. I made good money out of the de-peg and the ECB. I even caught the bounce in the Euro–Dollar on the back of the polar vortex. So, I’m miles ahead of budget,’ Pete said.
Roger looked at Pete incredulously. ‘Seriously, you made money trading the weather?’
‘Yep,’ Pete said, grinning.
Roger snorted. ‘And I thought the weather was the only thing more unpredictable than FX.’
Pete looked Roger up and down and said, ‘You look like you’ve lost a fair bit of weight since I saw you last. That Fitbit’s really working then.’
‘Yeah, I’ve lost about ten kilos since I started wearing it. I’m happy to walk just to shut the damn thing up. I reckon they got some shrink in to design its beep to drive people nuts.’ He glanced at Pete. ‘It’s OK for me to say that, right?’
Pete chuckled. ‘Perfectly fine mate,’ he reassured Roger.
‘Well Cheryl’s been very happy with the weight loss. So, I’ll say it again, you were right, and I owe you one. What’re you drinking?’
‘Just whatever house red they have,’ Pete said.
‘Good.’ Roger signalled the bartender. ‘Two glasses of the house red, please.’
‘What, no beer?’
‘Cheryl and I visited a bunch of fancy wineries around Tauranga when we went back home for Christmas and I got a taste for it there. And a good thing too, because she shipped a few crates of the stuff up here. So now it’s all sitting in our new wine fridge and any open bottles take up the space in the regular fridge where my beer used to be,’ Roger complained. After a short pause he added, ‘But don’t go gushing over me, princess, I’m not going gluten-free or starting to read the Bible or anything.’
Pete chuckled. ‘I won’t. It’s just good to hear that you and Cheryl are getting along.’
The bartender arrived with their glasses of wine and said, ‘Gentlemen, should I start a tab?’
Pete reached for his wallet, but Roger waved him off and said, ‘I’ll get it tonight.’
‘Thanks Rog,’ Pete replied.
‘No worries Moggy,’ Roger said.
Roger handed over his credit card and then picked up his glass. He turned to Pete, his face becoming glum. ‘I guess we should toast your move to London to become a prop trader. I’ll really miss you, bro,’ Roger said while holding up his glass.
Pete pulled back his glass and gave Roger a confused look. ‘What are you talking about?’
‘You’re moving to London, right? I was called into your bank last Monday by your boss Nick and that sales guy…,’ Roger started clicking his fingers.
‘Neil?’ Pete offered.
‘Yeah,’ Roger said while pointing at Pete. ‘They wanted to talk to me about being Head of Asian Trading at your bank. They said Nick and you were moving to London. I said I wouldn’t have anything to do with it otherwise. I hope you don’t mind. I’ll stay away from it if you want.’
‘Rog, they offered me a job in London, but I turned it down. So I guess they interviewed you early in the week just case I said yes.’
Roger took on a serious tone. ‘Pete, I wasn’t the only one they called. They were talking to some of my other mates as late as last Friday. So they seem pretty dead set on hiring an outsider. And, it aint going to be me now that I know what’s going on. But I’m sorry to be the one to tell you Pete, it doesn’t look like you’re being promoted.’
A shockwave hit Pete and left him speechless. He had to lean against the bar to keep his balance. It took a few seconds for his raging anger to settle and then he could feel the violence inside him fighting to get out either verbally or physically. Pete ignored Roger, closed his eyes and took in a breath. He searched for his feelings, which were mix of anger and sadness; the former burning brightly in his head and the latter smothering his heart.
Pete let the breath out slowly while staying focused. The feeling of anger came into focus and he moved quickly to console himself. Still cycling through his breathing, Pete allowed the feeling to flow through him and trickle away. He began to think more clearly. It all makes sense now. An offer of a dead-end job in London to quietly shuffle me out of the way. The disappointment on Terry’s face when I said no. Nick being down in HR a lot this week; probably still interviewing people. I guess my gut feeling was right all along, he thought.
Pete opened his eyes to see Roger looking at him nervously. ‘Rog, I think you’re right and I’m about to get fucked,’ he said full of disappointment. Roger nodded in sombre acknowledgment. ‘Thanks for letting me know, I really appreciate it,’ Pete said sincerely.
‘No worries bro, I’ll always have your back. I just wish it were better news. What are you going to do?’
‘At this stage Rog, I really don’t know,’ Pete answered.
‘Well let know if I can do anything. It may be even time to dust off your CV,’ Roger offered.
Pete sighed. ‘
Yeah thanks. May be you’re right,’ he added. ‘I should get to it then,’ he said putting down his wine without having taken so much as a sip.
Roger signalled the bartender and said to Pete, ‘Hold on a tic, I’ll walk you out.’
‘Thanks,’ Pete said mechanically.
Roger quickly signed for the bill and they both walked out of the bar. Roger waved down a cab. ‘This one’s yours, I’ll get the next one,’ he said as the cab pulled up in front of them.
‘You sure? You’ve got further to go,’ Pete said.
‘Nah bro, this one’s yours,’ Roger insisted.
‘OK, thanks. And thanks again for the intel tonight. At least now I know,’ Pete said, feeling numb.
‘I’m sorry, mate, I really am,’ Roger said sympathetically. Then, to Pete’s surprise, he leaned over and hugged him.
Pete was still stunned as Roger turned him around, opened the car door and pushed him into the cab. After Pete let the driver know where he wanted to go, the gravity of his disappointment began to pull harder on his mood; he started to cry. The voice of the Monster, quiet for so long, began to whisper, See hot shot, no matter how good you do and how nice you are, you always end up a loser.
Pete tried to stop crying. He closed his eyes and pictured himself. You deserve to find…ah fuck it! he thought and started crying again as the Monster resumed its seduction, You snivelling little—
The voice of the cab driver penetrated Pete’s thoughts. ‘Hey, he was not good enough for you anyway.’
Pete confused, stopped crying and said, ‘Huh? What’re you talking about?’
‘I mean your boyfriend, so sorry sir, your ex-boyfriend. You just broke up, right?’ The cab driver said, looking at Pete in his rear-view mirror.
‘Oh, no no, he’s not my boyfriend, he’s just a friend,’ Pete said.
‘It’s OK sir, there’s no need to be embarrassed. It is commonplace in Singapore nowadays. I can even take you to a place where you can find much better looking boys than him. And younger. Trust me sir,’ the cab driver replied.
Learning to Fly: A story about overcoming depression Page 23
