by Di Morrissey
‘I’m hoping that it will be Bangkok.’
‘Lucky you. Some of us just have to stay and raise a family,’ said Jill, with some bitterness in her voice.
Chris ignored the comment. ‘If you could ask Megan to let me know if she still wants to come and check out my shortlist of cars, that would be great. Thanks, Jill.’
Chris hung up. He didn’t want to get into another argument with his ex-wife. Jill had wanted custody of Megan and since he travelled and worked overseas so much, Chris had never contested it. But Jill always liked to let Chris know that, in her opinion, she’d got the short end of the stick.
The next weekend Chris took a photo on Megan’s phone of her sitting behind the wheel of an expensive European sports car so that she could send it to her friends.
‘Now, let’s try to narrow this down. It can’t be too big because of the parking space at the apartment, but it needs to be comfortable enough for a long drive and not a huge gas guzzler.’
‘So we’re not getting the Maserati, Dad?’ Megan laughed. ‘Okay. Do we get to drive the new car home?’
‘No, I can’t get it until I take out a loan. I certainly don’t have enough to pay cash. Maybe in a few days I’ll be able to pick it up. You’ll still have to get the bus home tomorrow, I’m afraid.’
He was glad to see her laugh. She’d been somewhat reserved since he’d met her earlier at the bus stop. He felt something was bothering her, but didn’t like to probe. Leaving the dealership, he asked her, ‘What do you fancy for lunch?’
‘Fish and chips. But nice ones. Not just in paper,’ Megan replied.
Chris grinned. ‘Great idea. Haven’t had any for ages. We could get the bus to Balmoral, or we can eat at the little fish place around the corner. You choose.’
‘The corner place. It looks cute. Besides, I’ve had enough of bus rides.’
‘Exactly what I was thinking,’ said Chris. ‘How about we see what the place around the corner has on offer.’
Megan chose a booth in the corner of the small funky eatery while Chris ordered at the counter. The food arrived quickly but Megan didn’t look too enthusiastic about it.
‘This was a good choice . . . flaky fish, crisp batter, yummy mayonnaise. Verjuice instead of vinegar,’ Chris said brightly.
Megan nodded, eating slowly. He wondered if she was savouring the food or working up to something. He topped up her mineral water.
‘Are things okay at school?’ he ventured.
Megan sighed and pushed her food around her plate. ‘Yeah. The same old, same old.’
‘Well, that’s good. So what’s bothering you?’
She looked at him, then put down her fork, and he was shocked to see a tear roll down her cheek.
‘Megan, honey. What is it? Are you all right?’ He reached across and touched her hand.
She shook her head. ‘It’s Mum and Trevor.’
Chris’s heart sank. ‘What’s happened?’
‘It’s Trevor’s job,’ Megan said, her voice shaking.
‘He’s quit? Been fired?’
‘Worse. He’s being transferred. To Perth.’
As Chris stared at her, the news sinking in, Megan burst into a flood of tears.
‘I don’t want to go to Perth! It’s on the other side of the planet. I don’t want to leave my friends, my school! Dad, please . . .’
‘Hey, hey, slow down.’ He handed her a paper napkin to dry her tears. ‘Now, run this past me again slowly. Trevor is going to Perth and he’s planning to move your mum and you kids over there, too. What does your mother say?’
Megan sniffed and dabbed her eyes. ‘Not much. He says we’re going. We all have to go. Sell the house and move to Perth! What am I going to do? I’ll die over there.’
Chris was furious Jill hadn’t mentioned this, given him some warning. ‘When did all this come about? I can’t believe he’d uproot you all, and sell up. I mean, it must be a huge job opportunity.’
‘I heard them talking. It’s a big deal, some supervisor thing. It’s not fair that I have to go because of his stupid job!’
‘Now calm down, it sounds like early days. It can’t be all decided yet.’
‘No, it’s pretty certain. They won’t leave me here, and I will not go over there. My whole life is here!’ Megan’s eyes filled with tears again.
‘Megan, I don’t think you have a choice, if that’s what they want to do . . .’
‘Why should I have to suffer for Trevor’s dumb idea? Leave my life, my friends, my school? There’s no way, Dad.’ She shook her head and wiped her eyes with the backs of her hands. They sat in silence for a moment or two. Then she looked up at him. ‘Hey, what about this? I stay here, with you.’
Chris hesitated. ‘Megan, I don’t think that’s possible.’
Tears coursed down Megan’s face again and Chris moved to her side of the booth and put his arm over her shoulders, glad there weren’t any other diners near them.
‘The problem is that my next posting is very likely going to be in Bangkok, sweetheart. I have a very demanding job, I’ll be away a lot working on assignments in other parts of Asia, and I certainly don’t want you living in Bangkok without me. Anyway, your mother would never let you come. It’s impossible.’
‘Can’t you stay here, in Sydney? Do you have to go to Bangkok?’ asked Megan, looking at him pleadingly.
‘It’s my job, darling,’ said Chris weakly. He didn’t like where this discussion was leading. ‘You could board at your school,’ he suggested, wondering as he said it from where all the extra money for that idea would come. When Megan didn’t instantly shoot the suggestion down in flames, he added, ‘Listen, it’s not a decision we have to make immediately. Let’s not spoil our day together.’
‘Even though my whole life is about to be ruined,’ she countered.
Later, after he’d put Megan on her bus back home, Chris decided to take a long walk to think about her news. He walked towards St Leonards Park, because he always enjoyed the relative peace of this North Sydney oasis. He especially loved its cricket ground, with its old Edwardian grandstands rescued from the Sydney Cricket Ground which had made the oval one of the most picturesque places to play cricket in the entire country. He was amused to see a lone bagpiper standing under one of the large palm trees, practising his instrument above the noise from the adjacent freeway. Chris sighed and kicked at a tuft of grass. He’d hated to see Megan so upset and he had to agree with her that she had good cause. He wouldn’t want to be taken away from an enjoyable and secure life to move to the other side of the country with a stepfamily he didn’t like. He felt very concerned about her future. How was she going to cope with it all?
Suddenly he felt gripped with anxiety. Years ago, when he was first starting out as a journalist, he had done a series of stories on the homeless kids that hung around Kings Cross. Runaways, kids with drug and alcohol problems, kids with nowhere else to go who relied on the soup kitchen, shelters and the Wayside Chapel as they drifted aimlessly, lolled in doorways, zipped up and down on skateboards or sat on the edge of the gutter, stunned and zombie-like, oblivious to passing cars. For a moment he feared this could happen to Megan, but then decided that such a thought was nonsense and he relaxed. Megan had two parents who loved her and cared for her welfare. As he walked to the edge of St Leonards Park and marvelled at the view of the magnificent harbour and the Sydney skyline, he pondered Megan’s situation. She was really unhappy and he had to sort out some kind of solution. He decided he would call Jill as soon as he got home and discuss the situation with her.
*
‘But Jill, she is dreadfully upset. I can understand how a teenager would hate to be uprooted,’ said Chris, pacing around his living room.
Jill was nonplussed. ‘Megan can be a frightful drama queen. It goes with being fourteen. And Perth is not exactly another planet.’
Chris tried again. ‘I’m thinking of her schooling. She’s happy there and doing well. Maybe we could see our way clear to pay for her to board. It’s a crucial time.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous. Boarding would be way too expensive and besides, they have perfectly good schools in Perth,’ Jill snapped.
‘It won’t be easy for me, Jill. It will be very hard to see her in Perth if I’m working between Bangkok and Sydney.’
‘Chris, this is not about you. Trev has been offered a great job. Megan lives with us, so she’s coming to Perth.’
Then Chris heard Megan in the background, shouting at her mother. ‘I don’t want to go to Perth! I hate Trevor and his evil little trolls!’
Their voices became raised as Jill responded. ‘Do not speak about Trevor like that, or his sons. Trevor is very good to you and he’s my husband. We’re a family now. This is what is happening. Understand?’
‘No! I want to stay with Dad. Here in Sydney.’
‘Megan, don’t be ridiculous. I can’t see your father staying in one place, let alone Sydney. It’s out of the question.’
‘I’ll run away!’ Megan yelled.
Jill sighed. ‘Don’t be so dramatic, Megan.’ She addressed Chris in a tight voice. ‘Look, she’ll just have to learn to live with us in Perth and be a bit more flexible. She’ll have to adjust.’
Suddenly Chris heard himself saying, ‘What if I offer to have Megan stay here with me? I’ll turn down Bangkok if it’s offered and stay in Sydney. Megan is clearly unhappy, so perhaps that’s best.’
The idea had seemed to spring from nowhere, or was it the guilt he always buried that had finally cracked through the lid he kept firmly on top of family matters?
‘No. Because, frankly, Chris, I’d worry about her being with you. Your place is way too small. Megan can’t sleep on your lounge indefinitely and besides you have no idea what it’s like to raise a child, let alone a teenager. You haven’t had to weather the storm of puberty, which, I have to say, is ongoing. Megan seems to expect to have things her way all the time. Whatever current fad there is, she’ll expect to be part of it,’ Jill warned, her voice sharp. ‘Whatever new gadget appears on the market, she’ll want one. It’s all very well you swanning in here as Mr Nice Guy and making out that I’m the Wicked Witch of the West, but you won’t be doing yourself any favours by taking Megan in. She’ll wind you around her little finger. Even if you stay in Sydney, what happens if you suddenly have to race out of town to cover a story? No, Chris. It’s simply not an option.’
Jill’s response wasn’t surprising, but Chris decided to press on. ‘Jill, I’ll talk to the editor, explain the situation to him. I won’t be taking off out of town all the time. I’m sure he’ll understand.’
Jill was unmoved. ‘Chris, you’ll never manage. You are far too bound up with your work. And you won’t be able to put in all those extra hours you always do if you have to get home to Megan.’
‘Okay, Jill, you’ve made your point. But can I ask when you’re off to the west?’
‘Towards the end of the Christmas holidays. Have to get there in time to settle the kids into school.’
Chris paused for a moment, his mind racing. ‘Then how about this idea? What if I have Megan for the holidays. They’re long enough for us to live with each other and see if we can fit in together. If it doesn’t work, then there’s no harm done.’
‘Of course there’s harm done,’ said Jill shrilly. ‘You can’t raise her hopes then take off as you always do.’
‘Jill, I promise you I will walk into the office and tell them I can’t take Bangkok, and ask them to give me a job here in Sydney,’ Chris said firmly.
‘You’re really serious about this, aren’t you?’ said Jill, her voice lowered. She paused a moment and Chris hoped it meant she was considering the idea. ‘I can’t say that I’m too pleased about this plan. I just think Megan’s overreacting. Still, I guess you’ll both find out, one way or another, if you two can live together.’ And with that, Jill said her goodbyes and hung up.
Almost immediately, Megan called. ‘Hi, Dad. It’s me. I can’t believe you talked to Mum! I’ll be so, so happy if you’ll do this for me. I promise I won’t be any trouble. You won’t regret it. I’ll work twice as hard at school, you’ll see, and we’ll find a bigger place to live in and I’ll keep it clean and we’ll get on really, really well. I promise.’
Chris was gratified by Megan’s enthusiasm, but he knew it wouldn’t be as easy as she obviously thought it would.
‘Megs, nothing is settled yet,’ he cautioned. ‘This is just a trial and I still have to talk to my boss. He might not be any happier about this idea than your mother is.’
Megan was undeterred. ‘Oh, Dad, yes he will. You just wait. Please go and see him. Please, please.’
After a few more exchanges, Chris rang off. He sat down heavily in a chair and stared at his phone. Megan sounded so excited, but Chris frowned. He wondered if he’d bitten off more than he could chew.
*
The following day, Chris phoned and made an appointment to speak to the newspaper’s editor. With a few minutes to spare before the meeting, he called in to the newsroom to greet his colleagues, but while everyone acknowledged his arrival they all seemed too busy to stop what they were doing to chat. As he approached the editor’s office, Rhonda, the editor’s assistant, hurried towards him.
‘Hello, Chris. Sorry, I’ve been trying to call you. There’s a slight change to your appointment this morning.’
‘Hi, Rhonda. Oh, sorry, I had my phone off. Forgot to turn it back on. A change of time? That’s okay.’
Rhonda shook her head. ‘No, your meeting’s not with John. It’s upstairs with the new chief operating officer, Mr Honeywell.’ She turned to her desk and picked up the phone. ‘Susie, could you please tell Mr Honeywell that Chris Baxter is on his way up.’
Chris nodded and peered over her shoulder to the shadowy figure behind her in the glass cubicle. ‘Tell John I’ll catch up with him later.’
‘Certainly, I will.’
Chris walked through the open-plan floor with its rows of identical desks and computer screens, though only a third of them were occupied. He knew at this time of day the staff were generally out gathering material for the next deadline. When he got out of the lift on the next floor, he was ushered into Honeywell’s office. The new head of Trinity Press was a large Englishman and he strode towards Chris with his hand outstretched.
‘Chris, great to meet you,’ he said, gripping Chris’s hand in his large one. ‘Shame we haven’t had a chance to meet when I was passing through Washington DC. Please take a seat.’
Chris sat on rather an uncomfortable chair on the other side of Honeywell’s desk. The man was a type familiar to him and his antennae pricked up. The charm, the patter, the smile that didn’t reach his eyes and the very posh English accent all put Chris on the alert. What did this man want?
‘You’re a very talented writer, Mr Baxter, and I congratulate you on your excellent track record and solid reputation.’
‘Thank you, and I’m looking forward to my next assignment, which is what I am here to discuss,’ said Chris.
Honeywell nodded. ‘As you are aware, the media landscape is changing throughout the world. Management has to be very careful where it spends its money. Have to be sure that it isn’t wasteful and that whatever we spend will produce results and attract paying readers.’
‘Yes, of course,’ replied Chris, wondering where the conversation was headed.
‘So it gives me great pleasure to offer you the position of South East Asian correspondent, based in Bangkok, because I think that you will be able to fulfil these objectives admirably,’ said the Englishman, rather pompously.
Chris felt pleased to be offered the job, but he quickly came back to reality. ‘Thank you very much, Mr Honeywell. If you had
offered me this chance a few days ago I would have taken it with both hands, but unfortunately there has been a change in my circumstances. My teenage daughter, who previously lived with her mother, is now coming to live with me and I don’t think that Bangkok is a particularly suitable environment for someone her age. She’s only fourteen and her mother would never agree to her living there. So I’ll have to turn down your offer and ask that I be reassigned to something based in Sydney.’
Honeywell looked at Chris with an expression that suggested he’d stepped in something unpleasant. He coughed slightly. ‘I’m sorry. There is no other option, Chris. There is no job for you on the Sydney desk. Please consider your position carefully. This newspaper holds you in very high esteem and we would hate to lose you. But you must understand that a lot has gone into organising the Bangkok assignment for you and you must also realise that I can’t just fire someone here in Sydney to allow for your personal requirements.’
‘Yes,’ replied Chris. ‘I understand and I’m grateful for the Bangkok offer, but I simply can’t take it at present.’
Honeywell glared at him as though personally insulted by Chris’s refusal to take the position, and said in a very cool voice, ‘Very well, then. You seem to be lacking in gratitude for the opportunities that Trinity Press has given you. I’m sorry, but if you won’t accept what I consider to be a plum job, then it would appear that we have come to a parting of the ways. I will have to say goodbye to you.’ With that the Englishman rose to his feet, an expression of icy fury on his face, walked to the office door and held it open.
Chris pushed back his chair and stood up, surprised to find that his knees were shaking. ‘I see, I see,’ he murmured, and he turned and walked from the office.
He went downstairs and straight to editor John Miller’s office and tapped on the door. The editor waved him in, came around the desk and grasped his hand.
‘I’m pleased to see you, mate. So you got the Bangkok office? Bet you’re glad about that. You’re the best person for that job, no doubt about it.’ He took another look at Chris’s now white face as he gestured for him to take a seat. ‘Hey, you don’t look that happy.’