Three Hours Late

by Nicole Trope

  Luke went up the slide and down the slide and Alex took a moment to hate Liz. He wanted to push his fist through her face. The rage came in waves now and there was nowhere for it to wash up so it never dissipated. At home, at the house where his family used to live, he broke things and threw things and punched the wall but nothing helped. He always had to repair everything afterwards. He didn’t want Liz to come home and see the damage. He kept the house nice for her.

  He hated the way she had looked at him when he picked up Luke. She was so calm, so calculating. She twisted his words and told him what he felt.

  When they had been together she had been careful not to do that.

  This whole separation thing had been totally her idea and hers alone, yet she wanted him to agree that they were better apart. She wanted him to embrace the concept like the end of his family didn’t make him want to . . . to . . . He rubbed his hands through his hair, trying to rub away the ugly thoughts, but he could feel the rage simmering.

  Last night she had used him. She had played with him, luring him in with wine and dinner and then she had just stood there, inviting him to touch her. Now she wanted him to crawl back into his box and behave. How could she think she could get away with treating him like that?

  She thought she was holding all the cards. That was the problem. She thought she could just walk away and leave him and somehow make it his fault. He wasn’t buying it, not any of it.

  Liz knew that most of their problems had nothing to do with him. She had known who he was when they got married. She had loved him then; even though he could sense she was holding herself back a little, he knew she loved him. He needed to get through to her, he wanted to smash down the walls that she surrounded herself with. He was always aware that he loved her just a little more than she loved him.

  That was probably something that mother of hers had taught her. Ellen was always going on about what a bastard Liz’s father was. No one could hate a man like his ex-wife could and that was the truth.

  Things had changed after Luke arrived. Liz had acted like she was the only woman who had ever had a baby. She hadn’t exactly been an earth mother. She hated being sleep-deprived and having to be at home all the time with the baby but that was what a mother did. It was the first time he could feel that she needed him more than he needed her. He liked the way that felt.

  Sometimes he had hated her then as well. She was always leaking milk or crying about no sleep. She wanted him to help with the baby all the time but he had to go to work. He had loved her more, too. The desperation in her voice when she called him at work was like a balm. He had been the best husband he could be. He had bought her flowers and cooked her favourite food and he had always found her so sexy, so beautiful.

  But those months had passed and Liz had become her old self again.

  She didn’t ask for things or beg him to stay home. She just demanded. Sometimes her voice made his skin itch.

  Sometimes he had done things he wasn’t proud of, but Liz wouldn’t listen to reason. He hadn’t asked much of her. Every man wanted a clean house and a well-behaved child. Cooking your husband a meal when he came home from work wasn’t too much to ask, was it?

  It irritated him when she didn’t want to be perfect for him after Luke was born. She would say, ‘I’m so fat,’ and he would disagree and tell her how beautiful she was but then he would see her eat a whole bag of chips and he would be disgusted with her.

  He took care of himself so she would always find him attractive. It should have been important to her to look the way he wanted her to look.

  He tried to control his anger around her but she liked to see him angry. Maybe it turned her on? She would goad him into doing something she didn’t like and then she would cry and sulk and refuse to see that he was really sorry.

  Women were all alike that way.

  His mother had walked away and left him and his father and she had never even bothered to explain why. Frank would have apologised for whatever he had done to piss her off, if she had just given him a chance. But women didn’t like apologies. Saying sorry wasn’t enough for them.

  ‘There’s no forgiveness in a woman’s heart, son, remember that,’ his father had said. He had picked Alex up from school and told him in a flat voice that his mother was gone. ‘Like on a holiday?’ Alex had asked.

  ‘No, son, she won’t be back.’

  Alex hadn’t understood. Every day he had asked when his mother would be home and every day his father had told him never.

  ‘How long is never?’ Alex had asked.

  ‘Never is like until you’re dead,’ said his father.

  It had been a difficult thing for a five-year-old to understand, but eventually Alex had.

  He had asked why and where she had gone but his father was done with explanations. His father wasn’t a bad man, he was just heartbroken. Alex could see that now. He could feel that now.

  He liked going over to visit Frank these days. In his father’s study Liz and all her bullshit were crowded out with beer and sports and vacant blonde girls in bikinis.

  His father had learned to stay away from love.

  He had Barbara now, but she wasn’t an essential part of his life.

  Barbara knocked on the study door and was invited in to deliver snacks. His father never thanked her and she didn’t seem to need to be acknowledged. It was easy just forgetting for a few hours. The anger dissolved in the cold beer and he always felt better afterwards.

  Barbara sometimes called him ‘son’ but it was just a word to her. At five he would have attached himself to anyone who came into his life and tried to mother him but now he just looked at Barbara the same way his father did. If she fucked off tomorrow neither man would care.

  As a kid he had wanted to talk about his mother, he wanted to keep who she was fresh in his head, but even mentioning her was forbidden. It only took one backhander from his father for him to learn that lesson.

  Sometimes he would hide in a cupboard and whisper, ‘Hi, Mum. I had a fun day at school today. Mum, can you make me a sandwich with peanut butter? Do you want to see the picture I drew at school today, Mum? Please, Mum. I love you, Mum.’

  He was the only person in his class without a mother. He missed seeing her at school when it was time for a concert or an art show. His father came to everything. Alex would seek him out in the audience to find him looking at his feet, uncomfortable surrounded by women.

  He watched the other mothers smiling up at their children, snapping photographs and readying words of praise, and he felt an ache that he preferred to dismiss as hunger.

  He told the other kids in the class that his mother lived overseas with a prince and then he got into trouble for lying. He got into trouble a lot for lying, but people preferred the lies. His father wanted to know that he was top of the class and girls wanted to know that he was rich. The teachers loved to hear his sad stories and his friends liked to think he and his father did nothing but party. People preferred the lies, so that’s what he gave them and then they stretched their mouths in horror and shook their heads when the lies fell apart.

  He missed the way his mother used to cook. His father had to learn to cook and he had never really mastered the art.

  Alex told him he was really happy with his meals, though. Alex told his father he was just fine and even if he tried to tell him something else, all his father heard was that he was fine.

  The other thing he missed was being touched. When he went over to friends’ houses he would feel sick with envy watching the casual way other mothers touched their sons. They rubbed their backs and stroked their arms or ruffled their hair as they walked past. They were just casual touches and Alex hadn’t even realised that he was experiencing them until they were gone. Sometimes he would sit right up next to his father just to feel the touch of the skin on his arm. ‘Jesus, Alex, there’s a whole sofa. Move up.’

  Luke liked a cuddle. Alex felt like he could hold him forever. Sometimes he would squeeze him a l
ittle too tight and Luke would giggle, ‘No, Daddy, stop, Daddy.’

  He missed being able to lie next to Luke as he fell asleep.

  ‘Watch me, Daddy, watch me again.’

  ‘I’m watching. One, two, three, go!’

  When he was eighteen he had gone looking for his mother. The internet made everything easy. One day Alex just typed his mother’s maiden name into the telephone directory and there she was. She was living in Queensland and she even had a Facebook page. He couldn’t believe it. A fucking Facebook page. She was right out in the open just waiting to be found.

  There was only one picture he could see but it looked like she’d moved right along from her first husband and son. She had a new man and two daughters to keep her company. She was laughing in the picture and she looked so different to the woman he remembered that he questioned whether it was really her, but it was. He just knew it was. Her smile taunted him and he knew he would never try to contact her. He wondered what she would say if he requested to be her friend on Facebook. He wondered if she would be horrified or happy. Would she rush over to where he was and embrace him? Would she get down on her knees and beg his forgiveness? Alex studied the picture and then he closed the page.

  In her face there was no evidence of his existence.

  It had made him so angry, so completely full of rage, that he’d had to get out of the house and just run until there was nothing left.

  How could a woman just leave her child? How could she just leave and pretend he had never existed?

  Every year he promised himself that he would contact her and ask why, but he never did. He was afraid of the answer.

  As a five-year-old he had known that it was him his mother was leaving. His room was always messy and sometimes he whined when she asked him to do something. He didn’t like to have a bath and he never wanted to go to bed when it was time.

  As an adult he understood that her leaving had nothing to do with him. But she should have loved him enough to stay and take care of him. However bad it had been with his father, she should have loved him enough.

  His mother was the person at fault. She was an evil woman who didn’t know how to love. He would never get in contact with her because she didn’t deserve to have a son like him.

  He wanted to share his discovery with his father but he knew the rules when it came to his mother. Even at eighteen he knew it was better to stick to the rules.

  His father seemed happy enough with Barbara. They had been together for about five years now. She liked cigarettes and a glass of wine or two at night and so did his father. She cooked nice meals and his father only complained about her wanting him to do things in the house every few months.

  Barbara didn’t like Liz. She thought she was ‘up herself’.

  Alex was certain of Frank’s love. His father had even uttered the words ‘I love you’ once or twice when Alex was growing up. But even as an adult some small part of Alex was surprised when he turned up to his father’s house and the man was still there and still interested in seeing him.

  Now here he was in the same position his dad had been. His wife had left him. But Liz had taken her child with her. Alex envied Luke that a little. He would have gone with his mother if she had asked him. He loved his dad but he was only a kid and he would have gone with his mother if she had asked.

  Alex rubbed his face, trying to get rid of his anger. Liz was such a bitch—he couldn’t believe he had ever fallen for her. He wished there was a way to make her sorry for hurting him. Women shouldn’t be allowed to do this. They shouldn’t be allowed to take your kid and then tell you when you could visit. She hadn’t even wanted to talk to Luke when he called her. Why should she get to have the kid full time?

  It was getting close to lunch time and even though Liz liked Luke to eat healthy foods, Alex would take him to some fast-food place instead. Nothing wrong with a bit of junk food every now and again.

  Later he would call her again. He kept trying to let go but it felt like Liz had her hands tangled in his soul.

  One minute he hated her so completely he thought he was free of her and the next minute he would remember the way her face looked when she saw Luke for the first time and he would love her again.

  If she could just see his point of view, if she could just understand how important it was for them to be a family, it would all be okay again. He wasn’t a bad guy; he was willing to forgive her if she said sorry and came back.

  He always gave people another chance. His father believed that everyone only got to fuck up once, but Alex liked to give them another chance.

  He had made some mistakes with Liz and he wasn’t going to deny it, but he had apologised.

  He would give Luke lunch and then he would call her again and maybe they could have a proper conversation without that mother of hers interfering.

  Ellen was a big part of the problem in their marriage. Alex knew from day one that she didn’t like him. The first time they had dinner together Ellen had asked about his family, and when he told her about his mother she had been like a dog with a bone. She just wouldn’t let go, asking question after question.

  When he told her that he and Liz wanted to start a family right away she had just laughed and told them that babies were forever and they should live a little first. Like they were fucking teenagers who didn’t know what they wanted.

  Alex had had to look down at his plate and just chew his rage away then. He couldn’t exactly yell at Liz’s mother, although he did think that it would have been better if the woman had not been in Liz’s life at all. She was a bad influence. Alex could always tell when Liz had been talking to her mother. She got a little aggressive and tried to order him around. She needed to be set straight and then she would cry and threaten to leave him like it had been his fault.

  Alex had tried to get Ellen to like him. He always bought her a nice bottle of whisky and he laughed at her stupid jokes. He complimented her hair and her clothes and told her she was sexy for an older woman, but Ellen just didn’t want to like him. It wasn’t his fault she was so screwed up about men.

  He looked at his watch. It was nearly one already but that was okay. He was in no hurry to get Luke home. No hurry at all.

  He would call Liz again later and give her another chance. That was just the kind of guy he was. Today would be the day that she agreed to come home. He could feel it. Last night they had been so happy together. Alex knew it could be like that all the time. He felt his true love for Liz erode his anger. Today she would be coming home. If he kept Luke with him a little longer she would have time to think about how important it was to be a family. She would have time to realise how much she needed him in her life.

  ‘Come on, Luke,’ he said. ‘Lunch time.’

  ‘Yay!’ said Luke. ‘Lunch time, yay!’

  Twenty minutes late

  ‘Good afternoon, West Wood police station, how can I help you?’

  ‘Um, yeah, hi, um . . . look, I don’t know if I should be calling you yet but my husband is late bringing my son back from his access visit—well, it’s not formal or anything, I mean we haven’t signed any papers. So it’s not really an access visit, not yet . . . The thing is, he was supposed to be here by two and he’s not.’

  Constable Lisa Mitchell looked at her watch. ‘What am I?’ she thought. West Wood police station had more crackpot calls than anywhere else in the country. That’s what it felt like, anyway. She’d sent a car over to a domestic dispute over who owned Aunty Thelma’s necklace three times today because different neighbours kept calling and reporting a disturbance. One old man had called four times to report a lost parrot and there must have been some bored teenagers as well because some of the callers descended into giggles after they reported aliens landing on the roof and a gorilla in the back garden.

  ‘You should try working in the Cross,’ her friend Emma said. ‘There every call is a bloody emergency.’

  Lisa smarted at the comparison. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t wanted t
he Cross. You got your placement and you went where you were told to go. She should have stayed in Melbourne. At least there she’d seen some action.

  ‘Your time will come,’ Robert assured her.

  ‘Yeah, but right now I’m stuck in the suburbs.’

  ‘It’s not so bad,’ said Robert. ‘I’m stuck in the suburbs as well and you never would have met me in the Cross.’

  She sighed. Outright rudeness to the public was actively discouraged.

  ‘He’s only twenty minutes late, ma’am. Have you tried calling him?’

  The woman on the other end of the phone was quiet for a moment and Lisa knew she thought it was a stupid question, but Lisa had been on the desk for six weeks now, long enough to learn that there were no stupid questions.

  ‘Yes,’ said the woman. ‘Obviously I’ve tried calling him. He’s not answering his phone.’

  ‘Is there any reason why you are so concerned? Has your husband done anything to make you concerned for your child?’

  ‘What? Oh no. I mean no, of course he hasn’t. I just wondered if there had been an accident or something. I’m just . . . I’m just worried, you know?’

  Lisa thought, ‘Why don’t I just search the computer for every car accident in the last twenty minutes and we can go through them? Or I could call around to every police station across the country and ask if anyone has seen a car accident.’

  Aloud, she said, ‘I completely understand, ma’am, but there isn’t much we can do. Family law is dealt with by the federal police. If you have a formal agreement and he has to have the child back at a set time then we can get the federal police to look into the matter.’

  Lisa didn’t say that there was little chance the federal police would get involved unless they thought the kid was in danger, and for them to do anything at all they needed a recovery order. The whole process could take weeks.

  ‘But I don’t have any agreements in place. We haven’t been separated for very long.’

  ‘Then I’m afraid he is actually doing nothing wrong. He is not required to have the child back at any time.’