“Do you know what … I think you should address the work situation first. It seems to me that work is at the bottom of all your problems. Have you ever considered cutting down your hours? Is it possible?”
“I’ve thought about it, but never actually asked …”
“Well, why don’t you ask if it’s possible? You’ll never know, if you don’t ask. You’re going to sell this – it must be worth a fortune – and when you’ve bought the two small places, you’ll have some left over, won’t you? You could maybe live off that, to top up your salary for a couple of years … maybe Jane could do some more work … there are options, Marcus, you know. You mustn't feel stuck on this treadmill. You can make changes.”
“Yea, you’re right.” He looks tired, so I don't say anything else. I’ve sewn the seed and hopefully something will have gone in. “Don’t forget we’ve got debts. I’m not sure if there will be anything left …”
“Well, these are all things that need to be sorted out … but at least you’ve made a start. I hope you don’t mind me saying something …”
“I won’t hold it against you,” he says, with a little grin. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’m going to retire to my bed,” and with that, he gets up and leaves the room.
I sit and reflect on the conversation and feel I can do no more. Hopefully, they will at least move closer towards each other now. Things aren’t going to happen overnight, but maybe my little nudging of them both, will have helped, just a tad.
I feel like I’ve played Gaz’ role as a go-between, without the silky black ears, brown eyes and waggy tail.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Facebook message from Adam:
Can you or Jane pick me up from the airport? I get in at 18.15 your time on Thursday. Can’t wait to get away for a few days. Jake’s driving me nuts (will explain when I see you) and the cleaning is doing my head in. I thought I was messy – God, the state some people leave their vans in. It’s disgusting.
Anyway, I hope you’ve got lots planned for me? Can’t wait to have a look at Adelaide. I’m not bringing my board, you’ll be pleased to hear. Thought it would be good to give surfing a rest for a few days. If there’s time, I’d love to go to some of the wineries up in the Adelaide Hills. A mate told me about them and they sound cool.
I’ll text if I’m delayed but hopefully, see you soon. Adam xxx
I haven’t heard from him for ages, so it’s a relief to get this. I write back.
Hey – I can’t believe it. So excited. I think Holly’s told you her news? Brilliant isn’t it? I think you’ll really like Jed. Sorry there’s issues with Jake – maybe a year is too long to be with someone, even when they’re your best mate? Yes, we’ll defo go up to the Hills. Glad you’re not bringing the board, not sure I could stand the strain of actually watching you, knowing there are sharks around! Seems years since I last saw you, not months. See you soon, Mum xxx
Jane and I set out to pick him up – it’s odd to be returning to the airport already. Seems like minutes since I was here, being picked up myself and it dawns on me that I’ve only got just two weeks left.
We park the car and make our way to arrivals. We wander right into an area that would normally be out of bounds, but this is a domestic flight – so it’s a bit like catching a bus and turning up to the bus station.
I catch sight of Adam as he walks purposefully towards us, in amongst loads of other tanned people. He looks different, even from here, older and less like a boy.
I start to wave like a banshee and rush towards him. If I’d done this in the past, he would have been embarrassed, but he seems to be genuinely pleased to see me, wrapping his arms around me and squeezing me, till I laugh.
“It’s so lovely to see you at last Adam,” I say, breathing in his smell – sweat and Paco Rabanne, mixed with coconut sun oil. I don’t want to let him go, but I do, and he kisses my cheek loudly.
“You look fab, Mum – you look younger, somehow. What have you done to yourself? Botox?” he grins.
“Cheeky. It’s just the sun, this beautiful place … anyway, Jane, meet your grown-up nephew!”
They hug each other and Jane says, “Wow! I really can say it – you’ve grown a bit!”
I look at him. He’s filled out, got taller; his hair’s longer, blonder. His face is browner than I’ve ever seen it and it makes his eyes stand out and his teeth look whiter. I can’t believe what a handsome devil he is.
“Well, you look older,” I say. “You look so … well … so … Aussie.”
“Yea, I suppose I do – I can even hear myself doing the upward inflection, but all my Aussie friends laugh at my accent. They think it’s quaint.”
“Come on,” says Jane, “Let’s go to the car and get you home. Supper’s waiting …”
Adam swings his rucksack onto his back and we walk across the concourse together, Jane with her arm through his. He’s chatting away to her and when I look at him, I’m so proud of him. What a brilliant boy he’s turning into.
*
“So, my big sister’s got herself a lawyer, then?” he says, as he tucks into supper. He’s eating as if he hasn’t eaten for a week, rolling spaghetti expertly round his fork. “Any date for the wedding?”
“Not yet … but I don’t think they’ll hang around. I’m so pleased – he’s perfect for her. I think you’ll really like him when you meet him, eventually. What are your plans, anyway? Have you got any?” I laugh.
“Well, I did think for a while I wanted to stay here. But it’s not that easy, there are so many rules and regulations and anyway, I’m coming round to thinking I will go to uni. Dad’ll be amazed. I got the grades, so I may as well. What the hell!”
“What are you going to study, Adam?” asks Jane. I’m sitting quietly smiling to myself, realising that it means that he’ll be home soon. I’d thought he might be planning to live here forever.
“Sports studies. It’s all about the psychology and coaching … and I can specialise in water sports. When I was applying, it was the only thing I thought I could possibly do – I saw the course at Solent, and that was it. Then I went off the whole idea – I thought I wouldn’t get the grades. But much to my amazement and my parents’, I did.” He laughed, looking over at me with an ironic grin. “I know Dad thought I ought to do something more worthy, but … it’s what I want to do.”
“It’s good to know what you want, Adam. It’s brilliant news. What’s Jake going to do?” I ask.
“God knows.”
“Oh. Doesn’t he talk about it much?”
“I’ll tell you later, Mum. I’d rather forget him for now.”
I leave it there, but I’m intrigued. I’m worried for Laura’s sake and am determined to find out the truth.
“So … what do you think of Australia, then? Do we measure up?” says Jane.
“I love it here, I really do. I’ve had an amazing time, made some great friends. Your TV’s crap, though. God, how do you watch it?” he laughed.
“They’ve forgotten what decent telly’s like,” I say. “I couldn’t believe how many adverts they have. I lost the will to live when we watched a film the other night. It feels like they interrupt it every five minutes.”
Jane laughed. “You get used to it, in the end. Or, you do what we do, and download things off the internet.”
“That’s one thing I won’t miss when I go back to the UK,” says Adam, “but there’s loads I will miss. The weather. The beaches. The people. The laid-back attitude. The food. There’s so much to like. But there’s one more thing I hate, Auntie Jane, and that’s their attitude to the Aboriginals. I hate the way they’ve been treated. I didn’t know anything about it until I came here.”
“It’s a very complicated area,” says Jane. “I hate it too, but when you live here, you realise it’s not something that can be easily sorted out and in the end, you kind of accept the situation. It’s awful, I know. We’ve got some friends who went and worked with Aboriginals in the bush for a while, and
some of the stories they told … it’s hard to believe what goes on. They were here thousands of years before us and we took their land and now they’re … lost, really but … it’s so difficult to help them. The Government try to bring in all sorts of initiatives, but they just seem to make it all worse.” Jane looks wistful and continues. “One good thing is that at least some of their artists are paid for their wonderful art work now. One of my projects I’m going to be working on is a children’s book that’s going to have some Aboriginal illustrations, alongside mine. It’s going to be really exciting.”
“You didn’t tell me that,” I say.
“No, well, it hasn’t come up … but I’m going to be working with the Aboriginal artist next year. We ought to go to this fabulous gallery in the city where there are masses of paintings – would you be interested in going, Adam?”
“Definitely. I bought a book about their art, as I love it so much.”
This is a side of Adam that is completely new to me. He did Art GCSE but has never shown any real interest in it.
“That’s brilliant, Adam. Let’s go tomorrow,” I say. I realise I know very little about it, but suddenly feel the need to learn. The picture I bought in Cornwall somehow represented my future. Perhaps I could take something back home, that would remind me of my time here.
That night, when Adam has gone to his room and I’m in bed, I remember he said he wanted to talk to me about something. I lie awake for a long while, worrying what it is. I know it’s not his future as he’s now told us about uni. Perhaps it’s just this issue with Jake? I’m going to have to make it possible for him to talk to me, alone. We’re all going to go to the city tomorrow, but maybe in the morning, while Jane’s working, we can walk and chat.
I fall asleep with images of Adam and Holly swirling round my head. Ben and Gaz walk around my brain too, leaving me eventually to fall asleep with a feeling of love and sadness intertwined.
Chapter Twenty-Six
“Do you fancy a stroll along the beach?” I say to Adam. He’s sitting on the balcony, drinking a strong expresso. He used to hate coffee.
“Yea, cool. Just give me a minute …”
We cross the road and go down the steps that lead to the beach. The Life Saving Club stands above us, its yellow and red flags fluttering in the breeze. Norfolk pines range along the road, standing tall and proud, as if patrolling the seashore. We set off towards Glenelg.
Adam seems distracted this morning and we walk in companionable silence for a while. Passing a few dog walkers, he says, “I can’t believe I’ll never see dear old Gaz again.”
He’s now walking with his head down, looking at the sand. I put my arm around him. “I know … he was such a … friend.” I watch a girl jog past, her pony tail swinging like Suzie’s. “And you’ve heard about … Dad and Suzie?”
Adam grunts. “Bit ridiculous at his age. Silly sod. The poor kid’ll be laughed at when he’s at secondary school, with a father who looks ancient.”
“Yes, I know … but I’ve decided to wish them well. I can’t continue being a bitter old woman for the rest of my life, can I?” I nudge him and he eventually looks up and smiles.
“Why not?” he says, “I think I’d be bitter, if I was you.”
“Life’s too short.”
“Yea. S’pose so. What’s this Ben bloke like, then? Holly says he’s younger than you?” He bends down to pick up a small pebble. “Do you like him?”
“I do, yes. We haven’t spent much time together but … he’s been really kind to me. I was worried about being a bit older than him at first, but when you’re our age, it doesn’t really matter anymore. If you went out with a girl who was ten years older than you, that would be odd. I don’t know what I’d have done without him when Gaz …” He gives me a sideways look.
“So … are you going to carry on, when you get back?”
“I hope so. But it’s early days. We’ll just see what happens.” There’s a long silence as we pick up the pace a bit and stride into the wind. “Let’s walk by the edge of the water,” I say and veer off to the sea. We’re carrying our thongs and we splash through the crystal water, simply enjoying each other’s company. He throws the pebble into the sea; it lands quite far out, with a plop. I take a few snaps, trying to catch the water droplets that are jumping from the Adam’s feet, as he sloshes about and kicks the tiny waves. I know that I’ll feel nostalgic for this time, when I look at the pictures, back home.
“It seems odd to be in the sea, without huge waves rolling in. Have you seen any surf here?”
“No, not since I arrived, although Marcus says it gets rough here, in the winter. If you want to surf, you go to Goolwa or somewhere. Still, you’re not here to surf this time, are you?”
“Na … good to have a break, if I’m honest. I’m surfed out!”
After a few minutes, I decide now’s the time to ask him what it is he wanted to talk about. I have a feeling he’s waiting for me to bring it up. He’s ambling by my side and I feel a tension – maybe it’s mine, maybe it’s his, I’m not sure.
“Adam … while we’re on our own … you mentioned that you wanted to talk about something. Perhaps now is a good moment?”
He turns his head and stares at me; I can see embarrassment pass over his face and he looks away. He doesn’t say anything, so I add, “Is it about Jake?”
“No … although I do want to talk about him, some time. No … it’s something else. Something personal … about me.”
I go up to him; both of us are still in the water and I get hold of his arms and turn him to face me. “Whatever it is, Adam, you can tell me. You know you can.” I look into his eyes and will him to say it, whatever it is.
His face flushes red – I can see it through his golden tan. “Don’t worry,” I say. “Just say it. It’s best, that way.”
“Okay then. Here goes.” He looks straight into my eyes. “Mum … there’s no easy way of saying this … I’m gay.” He doesn’t look away, but his eyes flicker and I can see tears shining in the whites.
I’m so taken aback that I don’t say … anything. My heart does a somersault. Thoughts flash through my mind like lightning – this is the last thing I had thought he was going to say – I don’t know what I was expecting – drugs, getting a girl pregnant … illness? Is this as bad as those things or something that doesn’t change anything at all? My mouth sparks into action; I know I must say something – and quickly.
“Oh. Well, that’s okay, Adam. You’re still my son and I love you, just the same.”
Is this the right thing to say? What are you meant to say in this situation? Of course I still love him. What a stupid thing to say – why wouldn’t I still love him?
“I’ve known since I was about twelve.”
“Really? That young?” I can’t believe it.
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t you … say anything before?”
“Why do you think?” he says, angrily. “I didn’t want to let you and Dad down.”
“But Adam, you’re not letting us down. Why would you think that? You know we would’ve supported you.”
“Maybe you would, but what about Dad?”
“I know you’ve had your differences with Dad, Adam, but he would’ve been okay about this, I know he would.”
“Well, anyway … I didn’t want to admit it to myself, never mind you. I just hid it; all those years at school. I hated the way all the other guys at school always asked me why I wasn’t with any of the girls … I had to make up stories about sex, just to keep them from always going on about it. Girls liked me at school … I never was short of girlfriends. Some of them would try it on with me and I’d have to either fake interest or say I had a girlfriend in another town. By the end of school, I was sick of it. I was so relieved to get away. I wish I’d told them all. It’s not such a big deal any more, but it’s still so hard …” His face looks racked with emotion and I simply put my arms around him.
After a few seconds, we
draw apart and I say, “Look, Adam. You’ve told me now. That’s the worst bit. I know how difficult it must’ve been for you to tell me. But, I’m fine with it. I can’t lie, I’m a bit surprised, because I had no idea. Once again, I’ve missed something so fundamental in my family. I must be … so self-absorbed or something.”
“Mum … you’re not. How were you meant to know? I did a pretty good job of hiding it, I think.”
“But surely I should have had an inkling? I did wonder why you never had any girlfriends, but you were always surrounded by girls … ”
“Gay people don’t wear a big G on their forehead, you know …” he grinned, sheepishly.
“But isn’t there something called gaydar?” I ask.
“No, Mum … that’s just between gay people, not between mothers and sons,” he pushed my arm, laughing. “It wasn’t as if I was …”
“But I should have known. Mothers are meant to understand their children. I could have helped you.”
“I think … I think I was too young then, Mum. It’s only since I’ve come to Australia that I’ve been able to face … the reality. I’ve come to terms with it now. It’s just … who I am. I’m glad I don’t have to lie any more.”
“Does Jake know? Surely he knew at school?”
“He knows now, but even he didn’t know then. I was denying it to myself, so …”
“What did he say?”
“Oh, he was cool about it. Pulls my leg, calls me names – but it’s all lighthearted. I was fed up of going to clubs when we got here and him trying to pair me up. So I told him. There’s a great gay scene in Sydney so, we’d go our separate ways in the evening.”
The thought of my son going to gay bars and clubs on his own, made me feel strange. But I wasn’t going to say that. “Have you met anyone out here, then?” I say, hoping, for some reason, he hadn’t.
“No … well, there have been some great guys, but no one special. Jake’s even been to some gay clubs with me – they’re not as bad as they sound, Mum. I know what you’re thinking …”
Love Is a State of Mind: Nobody's Life is Perfect Page 23