by Tess Woods
‘Do you love me?’ he murmured in her ear.
‘Yes,’ she whispered.
He loved her. And she loved him back.
She did love him back. Didn’t she?
***
When the exam was over, Finn left for a maths tutorial and CJ and Mia went back to CJ’s house to study together.
Mia scribbled notes and then covered them with one hand while she mouthed silent words to herself. CJ tried to study too, but the doubts and fears about Finn had settled back into her head now that she was away from him again.
‘I can’t focus. I don’t know why.’ She flicked her pencil at Mia.
‘Like I said before, you don’t need to focus. A, you’re a genius, and B, you’re going to be famous.’
‘I wish I could forget about stupid school and just be able to make a demo.’ She looked around her room at all the posters — Carrie Underwood, Kacey Musgraves, Clare Bowen, Scott Gunn, Keith Urban. She was one of them. She belonged up on stage at the Grand Ole Opry. She could see it, taste it.
She closed her eyes and imagined herself, perched on a stool, alone on stage, guitar resting on her knee with a spotlight on her as she sang her own compositions.
‘What are you thinking about?’ Mia broke into her thoughts.
‘Being in Nashville.’ She sighed.
Mia rolled her eyes. ‘Ah, I do believe we’ve had this discussion before. And I do believe I was pretty clear. You’re not leaving me by myself. Sorry, but you’ll just have to make music right here in sunny Melbs.’
CJ laughed. ‘Yeah, because there’s such a huge country music industry here in Melbourne.’
Mia sniffed. ‘There will be once you hit the scene. And you’ve got Finn now, so there — you can’t leave anyway.’
Her chest tightened. ‘Finn and I have only been together a few weeks. He would’ve ditched me for sure by then.’
‘Oh please, you guys are practically married. Hey, that reminds me! Play me your new song.’
Jumping at the excuse to close the music theory textbook, CJ reached for the guitar leaning against the foot of her bed. ‘I only wrote the lyrics. He wrote all the music.’
‘Only? Lyrics are kind of important to a song, you know.’
‘Okay, you ready?’ She sang their song from beginning to end with her eyes shut the whole time.
‘Oh. My. God,’ Mia breathed when the song was done. ‘Ceej! That was amazing. That’s like a number one hit, dude. No joke.’
She smiled. She knew Mia wasn’t flattering her. It was hands-down the best song she’d ever written, and she’d written hundreds. It was because of Finn. Because she’d written it for him, with him, about him.
Finn brought out the best in her.
Yeah, like making you want to slice yourself up.
She swallowed. ‘Hey, did you see the new Luke Bryan video that dropped last night? It’s amazing.’
‘No, show me.’
She found the clip and, after they watched it, Mia flipped the lid of CJ’s laptop shut. ‘Come on, back to study. Let’s do an hour, then watch another one.’
The doorbell rang. Finn.
He gave CJ his dizzying grin. ‘Got room for another study partner? I ditched maths tutorial. I missed my girlfriend.’
She let him in and they kissed in the entrance hallway.
‘I love you,’ he murmured into her ear.
‘I love you too,’ she said for the first time in her life to a boy. It felt weird. Should it have felt weird? Shouldn’t it have felt great?
‘Hey, I know what’s going on out there!’ Mia called out from the bedroom.
‘Come on.’ CJ took his hand and led him to her bedroom.
The three of them worked silently from their textbooks. She and Finn sat head to tail on her bed with Mia sprawled out on the rug on the floor.
CJ’s notes swam on the page. She read the same paragraph over and over.
Finn let out a long yawn and reached across to pick up CJ’s guitar. He started strumming random chords. ‘Okay, break time.’
‘No, not yet.’ Mia frowned.
‘Relax, Mia. How about we pick a favourite song each to sing and then we’ll study again. It’ll clear our heads, trust me. Okay, me first.’ He looked at CJ. ‘For you.’ He began to sing Nick Cave’s ‘Into Your Arms’.
CJ threw a glance at Mia who sighed and put away her book. For an extended moment, CJ forgot all about her problems. Instead she just let herself listen to the boy who loved her.
When he was done he passed the guitar to Mia.
‘Allrrrrighty then.’ Mia wiggled her eyebrows. ‘Well, just so you know, that was a totally vomit-worthy favourite song. Here’s a real song. You guys ready?’
They both laughed as she played the K-pop song ‘Spring Day’. Mia sang word perfectly the Korean lyrics she didn’t understand.
‘What the hell was that? My ears have just been assaulted.’ Finn laughed.
‘Shut up, Finn.’ Mia handed the guitar to CJ. ‘Your turn.’
CJ hummed as she strummed the first chords of an old Scott Gunn classic, ‘Girl Too Raw’. When she reached the chorus and sang the lyrics, ‘Baby girl, it’s not your world. Fade away, my girl too raw’, the memory of her mum singing those same lyrics to her when she was a little girl came rushing back to her.
She’d forgotten how much her mum used to sing to her. CJ was surprised to find herself struggling not to cry as she got through the final verse and chorus of the song.
***
Jamie stood outside CJ’s closed bedroom door. She’d arrived home from work early, having brought her paperwork with her to be home for CJ.
She was about to tap on the door when her daughter’s hypnotic lilting voice floated out.
Jamie leaned back against the wall and covered her eyes with her hands. When CJ finished singing and the muffled sound of conversation began, she wiped away the rogue tears that had escaped and walked to her own bedroom. She sat on the edge of the bed and sighed a long shaky sigh as she took the stilettos off her sore feet after an especially difficult day at work.
Word had trickled into the staffroom, and from there into Jamie’s office, that someone in Year Eleven had sent a text saying they had marijuana to sell.
She and Andrew had hauled all the usual suspects into her office after the exam. But none of them admitted to it or were prepared to speak up and say who was responsible.
What was as clear as day was that there definitely was something going on. Kids were so transparent when they lied. Jamie just hoped it was some hotshot showing off without any actual drugs to sell.
2 AUGUST 1969
‘There’s something I need to tell you,’ Frank said in a low voice as they sat up in Jess’s bed at her dad’s apartment, their backs resting against the black velour bedhead.
Frank had been unusually quiet all afternoon. He’d barely even commented on the pumpkin soup she’d made for lunch using his mum’s recipe. That normally drew rapturous praise from him.
Jess had been too exhausted to probe Frank about why he was pensive. She’d endured a trying week at the hospital doing extra shifts to cover Shelley’s hours after a bout of gastro had wiped her out for days.
But as soon as the words ‘There’s something I need to tell you’ were out of his mouth, Frank’s quiet mood suddenly made sense and the hairs on the back of Jess’s neck rose.
‘No,’ she breathed. ‘I don’t want to hear it. Don’t say it.’
‘It’s my turn, Jess.’
She covered her ears and shook her head. ‘Stop! Stop talking.’
He gently pulled her hands away from her ears and held them tightly in his. ‘I leave in a month for Nui Dat. But listen to me, there’s no need for you to fret. I’m going to be behind the wire, not out on the field. I’ll be safe in the compound, working as a medic inside the hospital. And it might not even be for the whole year. There’s been all that talk on the news about pulling our troops out. It’s bound to happen soon. It’l
l be okay, Jess.’
‘No, no it’s not okay at all! You’re still going to war.’ It took a tremendous effort to quell the sobs rising in her chest. ‘Please don’t go. Please Frank.’
‘Jess, don’t.’ He took out a cigarette for her and lit it. ‘It’s my duty.’
‘At least we have the next month to . . .’ But the look that passed over his face made her stop what she was saying.
‘That’s the other thing, Flower Child. I fly up to Queensland on Monday for jungle training.’
Jess couldn’t tell whose hands were shaking more, hers or his.
1 DECEMBER 2017
CJ was lying on the couch, transfixed by an old cobweb dangling from the corner of the lounge room ceiling. She picked at the fresh scab on her groin, one from three days ago, peeling it away from her skin with her black-painted fingernails. She jumped when she heard the back door open and the click of her mum’s heels on the tiles. Quickly, she sat up and pulled her school uniform skirt down over her thighs.
Jamie walked in carrying a box of doughnuts. ‘Ta-da! The Christmas ones are in.’ She smiled, lifting her sunglasses off her eyes.
‘Yum!’ CJ tried to muster up an enthusiastic smile as her mum flopped down next to her.
Jamie put an arm around her shoulders, kissing her on the cheek. ‘Happy holidays, honey.’
‘Thanks, Mum.’ She lifted the lid and inspected the doughnuts.
‘Don’t eat the Christmas tree one. Save it for Pop.’
‘Mum, you don’t need to tell me. We’ve been giving him that doughnut every Christmas since I can remember.’ She picked up a snowman doughnut and took a big bite.
‘Sorry, love, it’s just that we’ll never hear the end of it. There isn’t much that makes him happy these days but that doughnut will.’
‘Mmm, really good,’ CJ said with a mouthful. ‘Want one?’
‘Not at the moment, thanks.’ Jamie used the toe of one leopard-print patent pump to kick off the other. She rested her hand on CJ’s thigh.
Even though the scab was much higher than where her mum’s hand was, it still made CJ flinch.
Jamie didn’t seem to notice. ‘How was the religion exam this morning?’
‘I think I did okay. I’m just happy they’re all over finally.’
‘I’m sure you did great, my clever girl.’ Jamie’s eyelids drooped and she leaned her head back against the couch. ‘Ugh, I’m so tired,’ she slurred. ‘Come for a cuddle?’
CJ snuggled into her mum’s arms. She wanted so much to tell her everything. But of course she never could. It would kill Jamie to know what was going on in her life. Instead she shut her eyes and wished she was a little girl again when her mum’s cuddles made all the bad stuff go away.
Minutes later Jamie was lightly snoring but CJ was still wired.
Her phone vibrated in her lap. She checked the screen.
Two more hours babe
Two more hours until she was meeting Finn at his house. Two more hours until the blow job she’d agreed to.
She bolted back upright, rousing her mum with the sudden movement.
‘You all right, honey?’ Jamie rubbed her eyes.
‘Sorry I woke you. I just . . . um, it was just that these doughnuts are so delicious, I have to have another one.’ She rammed a second doughnut into her mouth, barely chewing before she took another huge bite that filled her cheeks. She didn’t notice until it was too late that she’d eaten the Christmas tree doughnut.
***
CJ stood in front of her open wardrobe. She was due at Finn’s house in half an hour. What was someone supposed to wear to go and do that?
As sick as she felt inside at the idea of what she was about to do, at least she could stay dressed for it. For that she was grateful, because there was no way she would let him or anyone else see the scars. She had four now.
If it wasn’t for the cutting, she didn’t know how she would have coped when he came over and stole more buds from her nan’s crop, or when she saw people at school giving him money for the dope. When she cut, it kept her anxiety under control better than anything else could.
She had begged him to stop but Finn was a man on a mission. She’d mistakenly mentioned her Nashville dreams to him in a weak moment, so now he was using the excuse of needing to save the money for both their airfares to justify the dealing. And the money was rolling in thick and fast.
‘At this rate, we’ll be flying business class,’ he’d joked a few days earlier when he’d shown her the stash of twenty and fifty dollar notes stockpiled inside a book on his bedroom shelf.
After staring at the clothes in her wardrobe for too long, CJ pulled out a crocheted top, a black singlet and ripped jeans. That would do. It wasn’t like it was a special occasion or anything.
Her phone vibrated again.
I’m waiting
She didn’t have to go through with it. She’d seen enough videos at school assemblies about consent and pressure and all of that. She got it. But she had said yes to Finn that day when he’d asked, and her promise to him was what had kept him going through the exams. When it came down to it, no matter what, she wanted to keep her word.
She said goodbye to her mum, put her earbuds in and turned the music on her phone up so loud it made her wince.
She couldn’t remember any of the walk to his house. She was sure they spoke when he answered the door, topless and barefoot in his black jeans, but she didn’t have a clue what they said. Maybe they even kissed.
There was music, she knew that. Country music. Lady Antebellum. It was loud. The curtains were drawn and the lights were on.
He unzipped his jeans and leaned back against the wall in the lounge. She had imagined it would take place on his bed, or at least in his bedroom behind a closed door. She must have said that because he gave her an amused grin with a slow shake of his head.
Then he said the words. The words that floated from him to her in a fog, as if she were hearing them through the clouds.
‘On your knees.’
She nodded yes afterwards when he asked her if she wanted a drink. Everything was loud. The zip of his jeans being pulled up, the closing of the fridge door, the fizz when she opened the can — all so very, very loud.
They must have spoken. There was laughing, she was sure of that. Did it come from her or him? She didn’t know.
The Fanta took away the disgusting taste that stuck to the edges of her throat like a thick sludge.
He offered to walk her home. She refused.
She walked the long way. The sun was too bright. The cars were too noisy. It wasn’t until she saw the black dirt from her feet on the white rug in her room that she realised she’d walked the whole way back without her shoes. The soles of her feet were burning with blisters.
She told her mum she was feeling sick to get out of eating dinner. Jamie followed her into her room and put her cold palm on CJ’s forehead. Her mum’s lips were moving but she couldn’t understand what she was saying so she gave up trying to listen, shutting her eyes and turning her head the other way. Her mum kissed the top of her head and left.
Mia messaged her. She didn’t read it.
Then he messaged her. His message said that she was good at it. A natural.
When she lay in bed that night, very lightly fingering the brand-new cut in her groin, with her earbuds back in, she blasted the Lady Antebellum song on repeat.
The song she gave head to.
She played it over and over and willed herself to remember what had actually gone on in his house. It frightened her that she couldn’t recall a single detail between on your knees to when it was over.
Did she even get down on her knees? She must have. He seemed happy afterwards. She must have done what he wanted.
When the song finished, she hit the button to stop it playing again. In the silence, she had a moment of absolute clarity. And in that moment she knew it was over with him. She would never do anything else he wanted. Because all Finn ever wanted
from her was stuff that made her need to cut.
30 AUGUST 1969
‘When are you leaving?’ Malcolm asked Jess from across the dinner table.
‘Monday. I’ve been given leave all week. I should be back on Thursday.’ She pushed some mashed potato around her plate with her fork.
The days were taking forever to pass. Twice in the past week she’d been reprimanded by matron for careless behaviour at the hospital. The first time she’d helped a patient out of bed before checking if the brakes were on and the elderly lady had nearly fallen when the bed had slipped away from under her. And then, when she’d given another patient his afternoon pills, she’d forgotten to write it down on his chart. Another nurse had been about to give him his pills again but he’d argued that he’d already taken them. Jess was overcome with guilt that she had endangered people’s lives. She wondered if she wasn’t fit to be a nurse, after all.
‘Get your act together, Nurse James!’ Matron had snapped at her in front of the others at the nurses’ station. ‘Anyone would think you’re the first person to ever have her fellow go off to war. I shall find myself obliged to report you to the hospital board if you fail in your care of duty again, nurse.’
Five of the thirty other women she boarded with already had boyfriends or fiancés stationed in Vietnam. They raced off into their dorms the minute they walked in after their shifts to pore over the mail that arrived almost daily from Saigon. They were less relaxed, less smiley than the girls whose boyfriends were still in town; there was an anxious quietness about them.
But Jess didn’t feel as stoic as they all seemed to be. To her, it did feel like she was the only one in the world going through it. She found it impossible to hide her devastation that in just a few days, Frank would be headed to Vietnam. She wore her grief like a heavy coat — it weighed down her shoulders and gave her a stoop. She couldn’t sleep as every horrific scenario he could get caught up in flashed before her eyes night after night.
The war would change him. How could it not? She’d lost track of how many women she knew or had heard of who had split up from boyfriends, husbands even, by the time they came home.