Australian Affairs: Wed. Barbara Hannay
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he thought about Christmas at Ridgelands. He could picture it clearly, with the long table on the homestead veranda groaning beneath the weight of food. There’d be balloons and bright Christmas decorations hanging from posts and railings. All his family around the table. His parents, his brothers and their wives and their kids...
They would have a cold seafood salad as a starter, followed by roast turkey and roast beef, all the vegetables and trimmings. Then his mother’s Christmas pudding, filled with the silver sixpences she’d saved from decades ago. Any lucky grandchild who scored a sixpence in their pudding could exchange it for a dollar.
There would be bonbons and silly hats and streamers. Corny jokes, family news and tall stories.
When Joe had first arrived back from Afghanistan, he’d been too distanced from his old life to feel homesick. Now, he was seized by an unexpected longing.
‘Oh, well,’ his mother was saying, ‘for the time being, you’ll have to give Jacko an extra hug from me.’
‘Will do.’ Joe swallowed. ‘And I’ll make sure I come to see you before I leave for the new job.’
‘Oh, yes, Joe. Please do come. It’s been so long. Too long.’
‘I know. I’ll be there. I promise. Give my love to Dad, and everyone.’
‘Yes, darling. We’ll speak again. Can we call you on this number?’
‘Sure.’
‘And you give my love to—’ His mother paused and ever so slightly sighed. ‘Perhaps I should say—give my regards to Ellie.’
‘You can send Ellie your love.’ Joe’s throat was extra-sore now, as if he’d swallowed gravel. ‘She’s always liked you, Mum. I’m her problem.’
‘Oh, darling,’ An unhappy silence lapsed. ‘I just hope you and Ellie manage to have a stress-free Christmas together.’
‘We’ll be fine. Don’t worry. We’re on our best behaviour.’
Joe felt a little shaken as he hung up. While he’d been a soldier on active duty, his focus had been on a foreign enemy. With the added problem of an impending divorce hanging over him, he’d found it all too easy to detach himself from home.
Now, for the first time, he began to suspect that avoiding his family had been a mistake. And yet, here he was, about to run away again.
He’d barely put down the receiver when the phone rang almost immediately. He supposed it was his mother ringing back with one last ‘thought’.
He answered quickly. ‘Hello?’
‘Is that Joe?’ It was a completely different woman’s voice.
‘Yes, Joe speaking.’
‘Oh.’ The caller managed to sound disappointed and put out, as if she was wrinkling her nose at a very unpleasant smell. ‘I was hoping to speak to Ellie.’
‘Is that you, Angela?’ Joe recognised the icy tones of his ex mother-in-law.
‘Yes, of course.’
‘Ellie’s out in the shed, hunting for Christmas decorations. I’ll get her to call you as soon as she gets in.’
‘So where’s Jacko?’ Angela Fowler’s voice indicated all too clearly that she didn’t trust Joe to be alone with her grandson.
‘He’s taking a nap.’
‘I see,’ Angela said doubtfully and then she let out a heavy sigh. ‘I rang, actually, because I heard about all the rain up there in Queensland on the news. There was talk of rivers flooding.’
‘Yes, that’s right, I’m afraid. Our local creeks and rivers are up and Karinya’s already cut off.’
‘Oh, Joe! And you’re still there? Oh, how dreadful for poor Ellie.’ Ellie’s mother had always managed to imply that any unfortunate event in their marriage was entirely Joe’s fault. ‘Don’t tell me this means... It doesn’t mean you’ll be up there with Ellie and Jacko for Christmas, does it?’
‘I’m afraid we don’t have a choice, Angela.’
There was a horrified gasp on the end of the line and then a longish bristling pause.
‘I’ll tell Ellie you called,’ Joe said with excessive politeness.
‘I suppose, if she’s busy, that will have to do.’ Reluctantly, Angela added, ‘Thanks, I guess.’ And then... ‘Joe?’
‘Yes?’
‘I hope you’ll be sensitive.’
Joe scowled and refused to respond.
‘You’ve made life hard enough for my daughter.’
His grip on the phone receiver tightened and he was tempted to hurl the bloody phone through the kitchen window. Somehow he reined in his temper.
‘You can rest easy, Ange. Ellie has served me with the divorce papers and I’ve signed on the dotted line. I’ll be out of your daughter’s hair just as soon as these rivers go down. In the meantime, I’ll be on my best behaviour. And I hope you and Harold have a very happy Christmas.’
He was about to hang up when he heard Ellie’s footsteps in the hall.
‘Hang on. You’re in luck. Here’s Ellie now.’
Setting down the phone with immense relief, he went down the hallway. Ellie was on the veranda. She’d taken off her rain jacket and was hanging it on the wall hook, and beside her were two large rain-streaked cardboard cartons.
‘Your mother’s on the phone,’ Joe told her.
A frown drew her finely arched eyebrows together. ‘OK, thanks.’ She was still frowning as she set off down the hall. ‘I think Jacko’s awake,’ she called back to Joe. ‘Can you check?’
‘Can do.’
Even before Joe reached the boy’s room, he heard soft, happy little chuckles. The lively baby talk was such a bright, cheerful contrast to his recent phone conversation.
In fact, Joe couldn’t remember ever hearing a baby’s laughter before. It was truly an incredible sound.
He slowed his pace as he approached the room and opened the door slowly, carefully, and he found Jacko, with tousled golden hair and sleep-flushed cheeks, standing in his cot. The little boy was walking his teddy bear, complete with its fluoro Band-Aid, along the railing. He was talking to the bear in indecipherable gibberish. Giggling.
So cute.
So damn cute.
Joe felt a slam, like a fist to his innards. The last time he’d seen his son, he’d been a helpless baby, and now he was a proper little person—walking and talking and learning to play, beginning to imagine.
He’d missed so many milestones.
What will he be like next time I see him?
It was difficult enough that Joe had to spend this extra time with Ellie, while trying to ignore the old tug of an attraction that had never really died. But now, here was his son jerking his heart-strings as well.
As soon as Jacko saw Joe, he dropped the teddy bear and held up round little arms. ‘Up!’ he demanded.
Joe crossed to the cot and his son looked up at him with a huge, happy grin. It might even have been an admiring grin. A loving grin?
Whatever it was, it hefted a raw punch.
‘Up, Joe!’
‘OK, mate. Up you come.’
Jacko squealed with delight as Joe swung him high, over the side of the cot. Then, for a heady moment, Joe held the boy in his arms, marvelling at his softness, at his pink and gold perfection.
Hell.