remember glancing over at Angie who was lying on her back soaking up the sun. With her eyes closed she looked so peaceful, and thatâs what was different. Usually there was no peace in her. Anyway, by the end of that day we were all feeling slowed down and relaxed. The feeling stayed with me into the evening, my skin tingling from the sun and salt. I slipped out into the garden to have a cigarette and enjoy the feeling of, yes, I can only call it well-being.
At the end of the garden where I usually went to smoke, I found Alex. He was smoking, looking up at the stars. Snowy barked briefly and then stopped. Alex looked around and smiled at me. He didnât seem surprised when I lit a cigarette. We stood there together, looking up at the sky.
Thanks, Alex, I said eventually. For today. I enjoyed very much.
Thatâs okay, he said. It was good to get away. We used to go to the beach a lot.
I waited for him to go on but he drifted into silence. I realised this was a relaxed silence, a shared silence, unlike so many past uncomfortable silences with my father.
Alex? I said after a while.
He turned to me, waiting for my question.
Why is lots of wood in your shed?
Alex beckoned me and we went over to the shed. He took a key from his pocket, unlocked the door and switched on the light. From a shelf above a work bench he took down a scroll of paper and unrolled it. It was a set of plans for a boat.
Itâs a dinghy, Alex said. A traditional dinghy.
You are going to build this one? I asked.
I was going to, he answered.
Not now? Why not now?
Alex shrugged his shoulders. He pointed to an old framed photograph on the wall above us. It was a photo of a lighthouse on a small island. We stood looking at it.
In my job, Alex began, I bought supplies for men who worked in places like this, wild places, all alone. I dreamed of doing their job.
What happen to your job?
I got the sack.
Sack?
Alex nodded.
They didnât want me any more. They called it âretrenchedâ but itâs the same thing.
You lose your job? That is very bad, Alex. I am sorry.
I always said when I had time I would build a boat like the ones those men used a long time ago. They were brave men.
When did you get sack? I asked.
Eight months ago.
I nodded. Alex had the time but not the heart for it. I ran my hand over the plans.
It is very beautiful boat, I said. Would you like a hand?
Before long we made a start. On days when I wasnât working in the kitchen at the casino, I would come home from class and go over to the shed. Alex was into it now. Somehow my offer had opened a crack in the shell of this task that had become too overwhelming for him. I was always excited to walk into that shed and see this idea, this dream, taking shape. Alex was good with the tools and knew a lot. He told me his father was a builder and taught him as a boy. I said I hoped I would meet his father one day. Alex gave me tasks to do and showed me how to do them. He was a very patient teacher, just as he continued to be with cooking. After working for a while on the boat, we would go inside, have a wash, and start on the dinner. Sometimes weâd have a beer while we cooked.
So this is what was in my mind one day when I was coming home on the bus. The anticipation of seeing what Alex had done on the dinghy during the day. Wondering what my part would be today. So at first I didnât notice the voices right behind me. Or I did, but I didnât realise they were anything to do with me. I suppose I was the last to notice. Eventually, as the voices became persistent, I stopped daydreaming and paid attention. Two girlsâ voices. Giggling.
Ah so! Ah so!
Ah so! Arsehole!
The voices chorused like this. I looked up to the front and saw that the driver was glancing in his rear-view mirror.
Ah so! Ah so! Arsehole!
More giggling. This was new. I realised what was going on and I wondered what to do. I could pretend to ignore them, but it was becoming
At the end of the garden where I usually went to smoke, I found Alex. He was smoking, looking up at the stars. Snowy barked briefly and then stopped. Alex looked around and smiled at me. He didnât seem surprised when I lit a cigarette. We stood there together, looking up at the sky.
Thanks, Alex, I said eventually. For today. I enjoyed very much.
Thatâs okay, he said. It was good to get away. We used to go to the beach a lot.
I waited for him to go on but he drifted into silence. I realised this was a relaxed silence, a shared silence, unlike so many past uncomfortable silences with my father.
Alex? I said after a while.
He turned to me, waiting for my question.
Why is lots of wood in your shed?
Alex beckoned me and we went over to the shed. He took a key from his pocket, unlocked the door and switched on the light. From a shelf above a work bench he took down a scroll of paper and unrolled it. It was a set of plans for a boat.
Itâs a dinghy, Alex said. A traditional dinghy.
You are going to build this one? I asked.
I was going to, he answered.
Not now? Why not now?
Alex shrugged his shoulders. He pointed to an old framed photograph on the wall above us. It was a photo of a lighthouse on a small island. We stood looking at it.
In my job, Alex began, I bought supplies for men who worked in places like this, wild places, all alone. I dreamed of doing their job.
What happen to your job?
I got the sack.
Sack?
Alex nodded.
They didnât want me any more. They called it âretrenchedâ but itâs the same thing.
You lose your job? That is very bad, Alex. I am sorry.
I always said when I had time I would build a boat like the ones those men used a long time ago. They were brave men.
When did you get sack? I asked.
Eight months ago.
I nodded. Alex had the time but not the heart for it. I ran my hand over the plans.
It is very beautiful boat, I said. Would you like a hand?
Before long we made a start. On days when I wasnât working in the kitchen at the casino, I would come home from class and go over to the shed. Alex was into it now. Somehow my offer had opened a crack in the shell of this task that had become too overwhelming for him. I was always excited to walk into that shed and see this idea, this dream, taking shape. Alex was good with the tools and knew a lot. He told me his father was a builder and taught him as a boy. I said I hoped I would meet his father one day. Alex gave me tasks to do and showed me how to do them. He was a very patient teacher, just as he continued to be with cooking. After working for a while on the boat, we would go inside, have a wash, and start on the dinner. Sometimes weâd have a beer while we cooked.
So this is what was in my mind one day when I was coming home on the bus. The anticipation of seeing what Alex had done on the dinghy during the day. Wondering what my part would be today. So at first I didnât notice the voices right behind me. Or I did, but I didnât realise they were anything to do with me. I suppose I was the last to notice. Eventually, as the voices became persistent, I stopped daydreaming and paid attention. Two girlsâ voices. Giggling.
Ah so! Ah so!
Ah so! Arsehole!
The voices chorused like this. I looked up to the front and saw that the driver was glancing in his rear-view mirror.
Ah so! Ah so! Arsehole!
More giggling. This was new. I realised what was going on and I wondered what to do. I could pretend to ignore them, but it was becoming
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