A Life of Her Own

by Fiona McCallum

‘Okay, it’s your treat next time.’

  ‘So, I take it you turned down the job with Carmel, then?’

  ‘Yep.’

  ‘I’m so sorry it didn’t work out. I know how hard it is just to get an interview.’

  ‘Yeah. But don’t worry. It was entirely my decision. And I’m so grateful for your warning. I’m probably still a bit too fragile to be changing careers, anyway, let alone opening myself up for the sort of treatment you described.’

  ‘Oh?’

  ‘I lost my gran to cancer a month ago and it seems to have hit me harder than it should have.’

  ‘Oh, I’m so sorry to hear that.’

  ‘I was her main carer. She was in her eighties and hadn’t been well, so …’ he said with a shrug.

  ‘That’s a big loss. Clearly you were very close. And just because she was old doesn’t mean you’re not allowed to be upset by it, Rhys. Grief is grief. It’s a hard process that you have to work through at your own pace. It’s debilitating and all-consuming. You’re never exactly the same person once you’ve lost someone close.’

  ‘It’s really hard to find the will to go on, to be honest. Not that I’ve thought of – well, you know. I haven’t got quite that bad.’

  ‘But you find it disheartening and exasperating that life just goes on, right?’

  ‘Yes. Exactly. You’ve been through it too?’

  ‘Several times. And, recently, too.’

  ‘Gran’s the first for me.’

  Alice would have liked to warn him that it doesn’t get easier. Time does not heal all wounds. In her experience grief compounded with all the pain and heartbreak doubled the second time around, and so on. People who say you get over losing someone – ever – are full of shit. Once you get through the crippling sadness, the reality is it leaves a residue that settles on you like a heavy cloak and informs who you are and what you do going forward. Well, that’s how it had been for her. It was probably different for everyone. But of course, she couldn’t say any of this to Rhys. It wouldn’t help. Thankfully he continued before she figured out what to say.

  ‘It’s all just so awful. There’s such a bloody big hole that feels like it actually physically hurts.’

  ‘I know what you mean. Tell me about your gran.’

  ‘Well, she was mentally as sharp as a tack right to the end and was one of my best friends in the entire world. She was wise and so ahead of her time. And really brave. I never heard her complain once during the chemo, when she must have been in so much pain.’ Tears streamed down his face. He wiped them away with his sleeve. ‘Sorry, I just miss her so much,’ he said. ‘How about you? Who did you lose recently? Do you want to talk about it?’

  ‘I don’t know. Ruth. Ruth was my mum’s age and the warm loving mother figure I never had. Oh, I have a mother, but she’s, well … That’s a long story for another day,’ Alice said with a sigh. ‘Anyway, because of my move to Melbourne a few years ago – I’m from country South Australia – and study and getting my life back in order, I wasn’t in touch with her recently as much as I had been. So I’m feeling a bit guilty about that.’

  ‘I’m sure she would have understood.’

  ‘I know she would have, she was pretty awesome, but I think punishing ourselves is part of what those of us left behind have to deal with. It must be part of the grief process.’

  ‘Hmm. I keep replaying all the times I didn’t call Gran when I should have, blew off meals to hang out with my mates. Grief is shit.’

  ‘Yes, it is,’ Alice agreed.

  ‘Come on, let’s change the subject. I didn’t bring you here to make you depressed. We’d better order,’ he said, picking up his menu again. ‘The waitress keeps coming over and hovering nearby. I got completely distracted.’

  ‘Me too. Oops, I didn’t notice her. Yes, we’d better order.’

  ‘Do you fancy sharing a pizza?’ Rhys asked.

  ‘Sounds good. What about the BBQ chicken one.’

  ‘Great. Would it bother you if I have garlic breath?’

  I’m not planning on getting that close to you. ‘Not at all. We can’t have pizza without garlic bread, if that’s what you mean. It just wouldn’t be right.’

  ‘I agree. Do you need a salad?’

  ‘No, I’ve never felt the need to ruin my pizza-eating experience with salad.’

  ‘Perfect. Would you like a drink – of anything other than water?’ he asked, turning to look for the waitress and catch her eye.

  ‘No, water is good for me, thanks.’

  ‘So, tell me, Alice,’ Rhys said, once their order had been taken and they were alone again. ‘Why real estate? I remember you saying in the lift you thought you’d found your dream job.’

  ‘It sounded like a great opportunity to start an interesting career. And I thought I could help people make a good sale and a good purchase.’

  ‘Fair enough.’

  ‘How about you?’

  ‘The money. I can’t lie. Sorry, I sound like a bit of a wanker. I don’t mean I want to be one of those BMW four-by-four driving types. I just want to earn a decent living from something I enjoy. I love the built environment. I was actually studying architecture.’

  ‘What happened?’

  ‘Gran got really sick.’

  ‘You know, I’m sure she wouldn’t want to be responsible for you giving up on your dreams.’

  ‘I know. For a while I was too busy taking care of her. Then I couldn’t concentrate or force myself to go to class, and now I’m not sure it’s what I want anymore. Gran suggested I do a typing and data entry course while I was looking after her. I turned out to be good at them. Admin seems a good fallback. I like order.’

  ‘Me too.’

  ‘I’m sorry you had to go through all you did with Carmel.’

  ‘Thanks. I’ll be okay. If I can find another job. My partner is getting exasperated with me.’

  ‘But it’s not your fault the job market’s tough.’

  ‘He’s annoyed I didn’t stick it out – thinks I should have sucked it up.’

  ‘Nothing is worth making yourself miserable over.’

  ‘No. The good thing about the Carmel situation – or, well, leaving it – was that I got to go to my friend Ruth’s funeral. Silver linings, and all that. Listen to us. Two lost souls,’ Alice said with a laugh in an attempt to lighten the mood.

  ‘You said you want to help people. What about medicine or nursing?’

  ‘I’m not academically smart enough in the right areas and I’m pretty sure I couldn’t cope with the blood involved with hands-on medicine.’

  ‘What about counselling or psychology? You’ve helped me and you’re a great listener.’

  ‘Thanks. I’m not sure I could face going back to uni.’ David certainly couldn’t.

  ‘I think if you enjoyed it, if you were really passionate about it, you’d be fine with it.’

  ‘I’ve just done an Arts degree. Now I need to start pulling my weight financially.’

  ‘Says who?’

  ‘My partner.’

  ‘Oh. Right.’

  ‘It’s okay. I can see how it looks. But we’ve just bought into the great Australian dream and have a whopping big mortgage to prove it, so …’

  ‘Hmm, well, my gran always said a marriage, or any partnership, should be about two people supporting each other to be the best they can be and the best for society as a whole.’

  ‘I like the sound of your gran,’ Alice said.

  ‘Yeah, she was amazing. She also said, at least a million times, where there’s a will there’s a way. I think you can achieve anything if you want it badly enough.’

  ‘It’s hard when life gets in the way though.’

  ‘I know. I’m struggling to clearly see ahead one day at a time at the moment, let alone plan my future,’ Rhys said.

  ‘Maybe it’s just too soon for you to make any big decisions,’ Alice said.

  ‘Yeah, perhaps. But how long does it take – before the fog lifts
and you feel normal again?’

  ‘As long as it takes. And be prepared for it to not be the normal that you remember. Too much will have changed. You might have changed too much for things to truly be as they were.’

  ‘Grief really ages you, doesn’t it? Sorry, I don’t mean you look old, I meant … Oh, I don’t know what I was trying to say. I’m tired. It’s exhausting being sad and trying to keep it together all the time when you just want to curl up in the corner and wait for it all to be over.’

  ‘I think what you’re describing is wisdom – that grief ages us at a soul level. We’re wiser because of what we’ve been through,’ Alice said.

  ‘Yes, maybe that’s it. I think you’d be a really good grief counsellor. You seem to know how to explain it all so it makes sense. You’re also a really calming and comforting presence to be around.’

  Alice was shocked to find herself blushing slightly.

  ‘Sorry, please don’t think I was coming on to you. I’m not, honestly.’

  ‘Thank you. That might be one of the loveliest things anyone has said to me in a long time.’

  ‘I only speak the truth.’

  ‘With counselling I’d be worried about taking on other people’s problems or emotions.’

  ‘Maybe the course would teach you how to deal with that.’

  ‘Maybe. It’s certainly something to think about.’

  ‘I can’t believe a counselling course wouldn’t have been right on your radar – I think you’d be a natural.’

  ‘Thanks, but where I’m from, we never had any psychologists or a counselling service beyond the local GP, and it was nearly impossible to get an appointment with him. Also, I was raised that you don’t discuss your problems with strangers – well, you didn’t complain full stop. Keep it all safely bottled up.’

  ‘Why was that?’

  ‘I think it’s a small country town thing.’

  ‘Not a very healthy long-term strategy, though, is it?’

  ‘No, probably not.’

  ‘Just think, you could get qualified and go back there and clean up all their problems.’

  ‘That’s the last place on earth I’d live permanently. There’s so much narrow-mindedness and bigotry. I didn’t see it when I lived there, and I only realised how damaging it is when I left.’

  ‘It’s funny how we crave what we haven’t had. I’m city through and through,’ Rhys said, ‘but I’ve thought about giving friendly country life a go.’

  ‘It’s great if you love gossip and everyone knowing your business – or thinking they know. Oh, don’t get me wrong, in times of need – like floods and bushfires – small towns are the best. Everyone comes together and gets things done and helps people back onto their feet.’

  ‘But they aren’t always like that?’

  ‘Oooh nooo, definitely not. Well, not in my experience, anyway.’

  Their food arrived and they tucked in, chatting between mouthfuls about where they’d grown up and other random topics.

  Every time there was a lull in the conversation Alice’s mind went back to Rhys’s suggestion of her becoming a counsellor.

  ‘I’m so glad to have met you, Alice. You’ve given me lots to think about. And cured me of my country squire yearnings,’ Rhys added with a grin, after the waitress cleared their table.

  ‘Happy to be of service,’ Alice said, grinning back. ‘But, seriously, it’s been really nice, Rhys.’

  ‘Let’s catch up again sometime?’

  ‘Definitely,’ Alice said. ‘Right. Well, I’d better get home,’ she added, standing up.

  ‘Yes, I have to go and get some stuff done for Centrelink before they cut me off.’

  They walked out into the sunshine together and hovered on the footpath for a moment.

  ‘Well, thanks again, Alice – for everything,’ he said.

  ‘Thank you, Rhys,’ Alice said. ‘You take good care of yourself. And if you need someone to talk to, you have my number.’

  ‘Thanks, but be careful what you offer. I’m a bit of a mess, remember.’

  ‘You’re okay. And you’ll be okay.’

  ‘I’m a phone call away, too, if I can help you with anything. I feel like I nearly owe you my life, or first-born child, for warning me about Carmel. I think I really dodged a bullet there.’

  ‘Right time, right place, I guess,’ Alice said, feeling a little overwhelmed at his praise.

  As she walked down the street towards the tram stop, she had the strange thought that perhaps she’d had to go through all she had with Carmel in order to protect Rhys. Ruth had always said things happened for a reason, and that people came into your life for a reason too, and also at the right time. And Alice was okay with that. She felt strangely exhilarated and peaceful all at once.

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  After enjoying an exuberant reunion with Bill, Alice sat down in the lounge and kicked her shoes off onto the floor and then sat staring at them. She really should take them to the bedroom or at least line them up neatly at the end of the couch. She moved to do so – on autopilot – before stopping herself. Jesus, I’ve become a robot, David’s robot. Come on, he’s not that bad, was her next thought. There’s nothing wrong with being tidy.

  She shook the thoughts aside and opened the laptop on the coffee table and typed how to become a counsellor into the search box and pressed Enter. There was a vague memory lurking far back in her mind. It had been with her all the way home since leaving Rhys. What was it? She tried to ignore it – it would reveal itself when and if it was meant to. Instead, she concentrated on the results on the screen in front of her. She clicked on the first one, which started by listing the tasks a counsellor would be required to do during an ordinary work day. She read on through the personal attributes required, the different areas of specialisation and then the necessary training. There were no great surprises in anything she read. Was this a path she wanted to pursue? She didn’t feel the same level of excitement she’d had about the job in real estate, but perhaps that was because she was now so much more realistic thanks to the spectacular letdown.

  Her phone rang and she cursed not putting it on silent or turning it off completely. She nearly didn’t answer it because she was enjoying her peace and tranquillity so much. David – mobile was on the screen. She toyed with letting it go to voicemail, but knew he’d just call back later or she’d feel compelled to call him, so she may as well get it over with now.

  ‘Hey, how was your flight?’ she said, having mustered a cheerful tone.

  ‘Good. This hotel is nice. I wouldn’t mind coming back here again sometime.’

  ‘Sounds good.’

  ‘How was your lunch? Did he offer you a job?’

  ‘Sorry? A what?’

  ‘A job. Isn’t that why you were meeting?’

  ‘No. Why would he offer me a job? He’s unemployed too.’

  ‘Oh.’ Alice could hear the confusion in David’s tone. He clearly hadn’t listened when she’d told him about having lunch with Rhys. Ordinarily she’d just put it down to David’s mind being on his project or upcoming travel, or one of the multitude of other more important things he juggled. Recently, however, she’d begun to realise it went deeper and that he perhaps didn’t really respect her. These discoveries were settling heavily and uncomfortably on her, like a blanket left out overnight that soaks up the dew. Oh how she longed to be wrong and toss aside this oppressive, disappointed feeling …

  ‘Rhys is the one I warned about working for Carmel,’ Alice prompted. ‘He wanted to have lunch to thank me and tell me what he decided to do.’

  ‘Oh. Right. Do you think that was wise?’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Warning him off working for Carmel. You can’t condemn her because you were too sensitive.’

  It was a little more than that, David. But Alice wasn’t going there. ‘Um, David, what do you think of psychology, counselling?’ she asked, before the pause stretched on for too long.

  �
�As in you and me going to couples’ counselling? No. I’m not remotely interested in discussing any petty issues you might have with a stranger and being asked “how do you feel about that?” over and over.’ Alice was taken aback at how much like her mother his words sounded, how instantly defensive he became.

  And then she remembered the thought that had been tugging at her. In high school Alice had once briefly considered counselling or psychology as a career, but her mother had dissuaded her, saying that it was improper to air one’s dirty linen to others, and equally so to encourage such behaviour. Also, they couldn’t afford to fund Alice studying in Adelaide, six hundred kilometres away, and anyway, she would find studying at tertiary level far too hard. Alice couldn’t curse the limitations placed on her because she’d chosen to abide by them. That was then, now was now … She forced her attention back to the current conversation.

  ‘No, I meant me becoming a psychologist or counsellor. What do you think?’

  ‘You can’t be serious, Alice. Where is this coming from?’

  ‘Rhys said I’m good to talk to, and you know how I like to help people.’

  ‘Alice, I think there’s a little more to it than that.’

  ‘I think I’d be a good counsellor, actually. I’ve had plenty of life experience. I’m thoughtful and empathetic. I’ve been looking into it.’

  ‘What, so now you want to start another three-year degree? Absolutely not.’

  ‘Well, I could start with a shorter course – there’s plenty online to choose from.’

  ‘And, anyway, would you really want to listen to stupid people going on and on about how bad they feel and how crap their life is? You’d have to sit there and be sympathetic when all you’d really want to tell them was that they needed to stop feeling sorry for themselves and to get their shit together.’

  ‘Wow, David, have you thought of becoming a counsellor. You’d be great,’ she said, faking a laugh. ‘Not everyone has had the same smooth ride in life that you’ve had. And just because someone has a problem they’re working through doesn’t mean they’re stupid.’

  ‘Well, if you want to listen to that day in day out, then that’s up to you. But I won’t be funding another degree.’