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Authors: Melina Marchetta
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head.
“No, he was,” she insists. “He was just like Bill. They both treated their wives like princesses, but their sons were different.”
“How come Bill didn’t treat you like a princess?”
She gives him a droll look and he laughs.
“Come on, Georgie, it’s because you don’t give people a chance to treat you that way.”
“Not true. There are some women who get away with being princesses and I’m not one of them.” She looks at him closely. “Did he ever hit you?” she asks quietly.
Tom doesn’t speak for a moment.
“Not like you said Bill did to him that time when he lost Joe. Except maybe a bit of shoving around in those last years of high school.”
Tom could tell Georgie about the days after his mum and Anabel left, but he preferred not to. He couldn’t deal with anyone’s judgment of his father, no matter what.
One morning he had asked, “Do you think that’s a good idea?” after watching his father pour a glass of scotch.
“Do you have a better one, Tom?”
“Yeah, actually I do, Dominic.”
He got a backhand for that. It split his lip and made his head spin.
“Shit,” his father muttered, grabbing Tom to see what he had done, but Tom stepped away, tasting blood in his mouth. He watched his father stumble. “Come on, Tommy. Just let me look at it.”
It began a pattern between him and his father. And on the very day Tom woke up hoping that he didn’t have to go through that ritual of watching his father down a scotch just to get him through the morning, or that he didn’t have to stick his father’s head under a shower spray and sober him up for a meeting between the Labor Council and industry bosses, that he didn’t have to kid himself that a mug of black coffee would work a miracle — on that very day that Tom woke up wishing it would all go away, it did.
Georgie’s stare pierces into him, jolting him back to the present.
“You know you’d make your mum happy if you rang her,” Georgie says.
“I was pretty cut when she walked out on him,” he says, relieved to be thinking of something else.
“She didn’t walk out on him, Tom. She took Anabel to Brisbane so Anabel wouldn’t have to see him at his worst. She did that for Dom, not for herself. It was a horrific year and Dom just crashed. It was the hardest decision she’s ever had to make. But she didn’t leave him and she didn’t leave you, Tom. She wanted you to come up with her. She begged you to.”
“So what about before? When I was in Year Eleven and things were just beginning to get bad?” he asks again, not wanting to remember the look in his mother’s eyes when he wouldn’t say good-bye a year ago.
She shrugs. “Who knows? I think when Jacinta had to go back to work, it killed them both for a while.”
“I thought she wanted to work.”
“Anabel was only eight, and your mother had worked all through your primary years, so I really think she wanted to be home for Anabel. Pick her up from school, turn up to sports carnivals, be a real at-home mum. I think Dominic felt he failed her by not being able to support you all on a single wage, but your parents were mortgaged to the hilt and interest rates were ridiculous. Plus his job was always so full-on and he had little to show for it, especially when the government came down hard on the unions.”
“So he regretted dropping out of uni?” he asks.
“Why ask that?” she snaps. “So you can blame yourself and say you being born stuffed up their lives? Well, it didn’t, and once he got into the union, he never looked back. It was like he was born for that job. There were no regrets, Tom. A bit of guilt from Jacinta because she thinks your father missed out on something, and a bit of guilt from him because he thinks she missed out on something.” She smiles. “But there was nothing wrong with their marriage. I could be a fool for believing this one hundred percent, but there was never anyone for Dominic but Jacinta and vice versa. They
“No, he was,” she insists. “He was just like Bill. They both treated their wives like princesses, but their sons were different.”
“How come Bill didn’t treat you like a princess?”
She gives him a droll look and he laughs.
“Come on, Georgie, it’s because you don’t give people a chance to treat you that way.”
“Not true. There are some women who get away with being princesses and I’m not one of them.” She looks at him closely. “Did he ever hit you?” she asks quietly.
Tom doesn’t speak for a moment.
“Not like you said Bill did to him that time when he lost Joe. Except maybe a bit of shoving around in those last years of high school.”
Tom could tell Georgie about the days after his mum and Anabel left, but he preferred not to. He couldn’t deal with anyone’s judgment of his father, no matter what.
One morning he had asked, “Do you think that’s a good idea?” after watching his father pour a glass of scotch.
“Do you have a better one, Tom?”
“Yeah, actually I do, Dominic.”
He got a backhand for that. It split his lip and made his head spin.
“Shit,” his father muttered, grabbing Tom to see what he had done, but Tom stepped away, tasting blood in his mouth. He watched his father stumble. “Come on, Tommy. Just let me look at it.”
It began a pattern between him and his father. And on the very day Tom woke up hoping that he didn’t have to go through that ritual of watching his father down a scotch just to get him through the morning, or that he didn’t have to stick his father’s head under a shower spray and sober him up for a meeting between the Labor Council and industry bosses, that he didn’t have to kid himself that a mug of black coffee would work a miracle — on that very day that Tom woke up wishing it would all go away, it did.
Georgie’s stare pierces into him, jolting him back to the present.
“You know you’d make your mum happy if you rang her,” Georgie says.
“I was pretty cut when she walked out on him,” he says, relieved to be thinking of something else.
“She didn’t walk out on him, Tom. She took Anabel to Brisbane so Anabel wouldn’t have to see him at his worst. She did that for Dom, not for herself. It was a horrific year and Dom just crashed. It was the hardest decision she’s ever had to make. But she didn’t leave him and she didn’t leave you, Tom. She wanted you to come up with her. She begged you to.”
“So what about before? When I was in Year Eleven and things were just beginning to get bad?” he asks again, not wanting to remember the look in his mother’s eyes when he wouldn’t say good-bye a year ago.
She shrugs. “Who knows? I think when Jacinta had to go back to work, it killed them both for a while.”
“I thought she wanted to work.”
“Anabel was only eight, and your mother had worked all through your primary years, so I really think she wanted to be home for Anabel. Pick her up from school, turn up to sports carnivals, be a real at-home mum. I think Dominic felt he failed her by not being able to support you all on a single wage, but your parents were mortgaged to the hilt and interest rates were ridiculous. Plus his job was always so full-on and he had little to show for it, especially when the government came down hard on the unions.”
“So he regretted dropping out of uni?” he asks.
“Why ask that?” she snaps. “So you can blame yourself and say you being born stuffed up their lives? Well, it didn’t, and once he got into the union, he never looked back. It was like he was born for that job. There were no regrets, Tom. A bit of guilt from Jacinta because she thinks your father missed out on something, and a bit of guilt from him because he thinks she missed out on something.” She smiles. “But there was nothing wrong with their marriage. I could be a fool for believing this one hundred percent, but there was never anyone for Dominic but Jacinta and vice versa. They
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