Page 43 of Wish You Were Here
Mum is even more pale than me and wears sunscreen daily no matter the weather. When she was growing up, one of her neighbours died from skin cancer, and I don’t think she has ever forgotten it. I have a bite of my cereal while watching Brianprune Maple. I really need a cup of coffee, but I’ll get one on my way into work. I’m starting at nine and it’s a long shift until six. Most of my shifts at work are six hours long, but today is nine, which is a lot of old people.
‘You have to be careful with a bonsai tree, love. One wrong clip and you can really stuff it up. I had a bonsai tree years ago, Elma, lovely little tree, but I ruined her. I over clipped her and she died. It was a tragedy, and so now, whenever I’m clipping Maple, I’m extra careful. You have to be, love. No choice, eh.’
‘Right.’
‘How’s things with you?’ says Brian, still focused on Maple. I don’t know how much I want to share with Brian. Do I tell him about what’s happening with Brad, my argument with Jess or my ongoing relationship with Ben? I did tell Mum about the Fudge Cake gig and so I assume he already knows about that. I am starting to like Brian more as I get to know him. He can be quite quirky, but he clearly loves Mum and I haven’t seen her this happy since Dad, which is something to be thankful for. I just don’t feel that closeness with Brian yet, and it’s weird to think of him as a sort of step-dad figure because he doesn’t feel like one. He feels like a Brian.
‘Oh, you know, not much,’ I eventually say.
‘Well, if you ever need a chat, love, advice, or you know, someone to just talk at, I am always here for you.’
‘Thanks, Brian. Question?’
‘Yes, love.’
‘Talk at?’
‘Oh yeah, right. When Vetty was young, sometimes she would need someone to just talk at. She didn’t want me to say anything back, she just needed to vent. We used to call it a Vetty vent! It was her way of getting things off her chest in a safe space.’
‘That’s really nice of you.’
‘To be honest, love, it was usually pretty mundane stuff. A friend she had fallen out with at school, how she felt about certain types of food, that sort of thing. Although, there was the time she told me about a boy down the block, Ryan Hargreaves, who had asked her to show him her chest. She was only fifteen, but I couldn’t do anything because it was all part of the rules of talking at. As it turned out, Vetty took care of Ryan herself.’
‘What did she do?’
‘She punched him in the face, Saskia. Broke his nose quite badly. He needed surgery.’
‘Oh, right, wow.’
‘Yeah, I don’t usually condone violence, love, but in that case, I think it was probably justified. She never had a problem with him again. Actually, the whole Hargreaves family moved to Wagga Wagga soon after, and we never saw them again.’
I finish up my cereal, and Brian is done pruning Maple.
‘Thanks for the chat, Brian.’
‘No worries, love, and remember, if you ever need someone to talk at, you can always talk at me,’ says Brian with a smile, and then he looks momentarily unsure of himself before he continues. ‘I hope you don’t mind me saying this, love. I know I’m not your dad, and I don’t want to be, but I hope if you ever need someone, you’ll consider me. Listening is one of my top ten skills.’
I look at Brian in his too tight silk kimono, and I do feel something towards him. A warmth, an affection, and I know he wants to be there for me. It’s been hard since Dad because it felt like getting close to someone else was moving on from him, and I wasn’t ready for it, but maybe Brian is right. He’s not trying to replace Dad, but adding a bit of Brian instead. I’m desperate to ask him what his other top ten skills are, but I need to get ready for work or I am going to be late.
‘Thanks,’ I say, and Brian gives me a warm smile before I walk back to my room and get ready for work. I can’t believe Yvette punched that boy in the face, although it sounded like he deserved it. I mustn’t ever get on the wrong side of Yvette because the one time I met her at Brian’s birthday meal, she definitely did seem to have some anger issues.
I need to get ready for work, but I check my phone first, in case I have missed a message. I still haven’t heard from Jess after our argument and I’m starting to get worried. What if she doesn’t call or message? What if I don’t call or message her and we stop being friends? No message from Jess, although I do have a message from Brad, asking me if I want to do something tonight. I reply and tell him I am working until six, but perhaps after that before I jump in the shower. Things with Brad are moving along, and despite what it means for me and Jess, I am excited about it. I have a boyfriend, and not just any boyfriend, but a bloody gorgeous chiropractor with his own flat in Bondi.
As soon as I walk into Marrickville Retirement Village, I bump into Rhonda Maloney, the general manager, and I want to ask her about Lou’s son. I feel like there’s something strange going on and I can’t quite put my finger on it. Plus, with Lou not doing great, and Christmas just around the corner, I thought it would be a good chance for a visit. Sometimes when residents are going downhill, a visit from a family member can really perk them up.
‘G’day, Sassie,’ says Rhonda – the only person, apart from Dad, to call me Sassie. ‘How ya goin’?’
‘Yeah, good, thanks, Rhonda. Can I ask you something?’
‘Yeah, course. Walk with me to my office,’ says Rhonda. ‘Just been dealing with Gladys again. According to Gordon Canning, she used foul and offensive language during Bingo on Tuesday, and then again during the knitting circle on Wednesday arvo. I can’t keep up with her.’
‘She’s a bit of a tyrant.’
‘You can say that again. But what can I do about it? She’s eighty-four.’
‘What did you say to her?’ I ask as we walk into Rhonda’s office, and she closes the door behind me. I don’t like going into Rhonda’s office because it has a weird smell. She’s into all sorts of Eastern medicine, and often has odd smelling candles burning in her office, which given the amount of paper lying around is probably a fire hazard. It’s one of the messiest rooms I have ever been in. Rhonda needs an administrative assistant, but apparently the home can’t afford one, so Rhonda has to do all her own paperwork, which clearly she doesn’t. Hence all the paper that’s lying around near an open flame ready to ignite. It’s less admin and more kindling.
‘I told her to stop threatening Gordon Canning, and that at Marrickville Retirement Village, we don’t use the C word.’
