The Cait Lennox Box Set

by Roderick Donald

  Four years ago, G had left the security of his high-paying job in IT and bought an upmarket furniture and home decor franchise that was doing marvelously well until the Australian-based franchisor expanded internationally. The franchisor hadn’t crunched the numbers properly, and combined with a slowdown in world trade and rumblings of an impending US-China trade war, the problems set in. Within twelve months the franchisor went to the wall and the whole chain of twenty-two outlets in Australia imploded.

  The usual court cases ended up going nowhere and G and Jools ended up another sad statistic. It was all a total disaster and put G off going into business for himself ever again, no matter what the potential return on investment was.

  So out of desperation eighteen months ago he moved into contract IT work and hadn’t looked back ever since.

  “Maybe next deal, eh?” G was just glad that all he had lost was the business and his investment. He’d managed to keep his house, his car, his share in Fig Jam, and most importantly, his marriage and his family together, but he lost a shitload of money and it was a setback that would take years to get over financially.

  Pragmatic to the end, Jools had said to G only a few months ago when they were discussing their finances, “It’s only money, G. We’ve still got our health and our family, so we just need to learn from the experience. It’s not the end of the world. We can earn it again.”

  “So how are the kids?” said G to Steve, purposefully changing the topic so he didn’t have to workshop the demise of his business one more time.

  “Same old, same old. The girls are great, James is just cruising through doing as little work as possible so there’s nothing new there, Johnny is Johnny and busting to start uni next year, and then there’s Thomas. He’s a great kid but he can be such a pain in the neck. He really can be a smart-arse sometimes. You’ve got a son. You know what I mean.” Steve was loosening up.

  “Thomas is a boy who just loves to party and he gives Jo such a hard time. I’m just waiting for the day he finally settles down. At the moment he’s bloody hopeless.”

  “Half his luck,” said G. “At that age if you remember, we were in full-on party mode twenty-four seven. Well, Jools and I certainly were.”

  “It’s different now, G. A lad needs direction and focus.

  “Hey by the way G, need to ask you. How’s my goddaughter doing? She seemed pretty upset at your BBQ last week after that Rishi kid was carted off in the ambulance.”

  G and Jools had asked Steve to be Cait’s godfather after he had come back into their lives. Even though Jools had her reservations at first when G suggested it, on reflection she realized that for all his faults, Steve was reliable, and he genuinely took an interest in Cait, almost to the exclusion of his own kids sometimes. She was the firstborn of all their children and was the same age as Steve and Jo’s son Thomas, so in many ways Cait was like the trailblazer for the next generation.

  “Cait and Rishi have a thing happening between them, or what?”

  “Well, if I have to be honest, Caitie’s not good. She’s doing it tough. The whole family is actually,” replied G with a downbeat lilt to his voice, not really answering Steve’s question.

  G picked up his beer and took a sip, pensively mulling over the events of the past eight days. Not only had Rishi's prognosis had a profound effect on Jools and Dec, not to mention himself of course, but the shock of Cait's miscarriage had knocked them all for a six, and they were still coming to grips with it. His beautiful daughter was suffering, scared, and concerned, and G was worried losing her love child could tip Cait into an inward, self-deprecating spiral, especially if Rishi passed. So G took it on himself to support and guide her in her time of need. But godfather or no godfather, he couldn't mention anything to Steve about the pregnancy. It was all just too private.

  “Caitie? She really got knocked sideways by Rishi’s bashing,” he said, the timbre of G’s voice wavering imperceptibly, changing to a thicker tone as he spoke.

  “Eh? How come? He was just one of the crowd, wasn’t he?

  G normally only let out so much about his family, but with Steve it was different. Considering Steve’s godfather status, he almost had a right to know, so G continued, “Caitie and Rishi were about to be an item. She looked on him as her soul mate, and then this happened. According to the medics, there’s a possibility Rishi mightn’t pull through, or he could end up with brain damage. So it’s that bad.”

  “Good God, I didn’t realize.” Steve was honestly shocked and concerned for his goddaughter. His previously upbeat mood changed to a more somber tone. “What can I do to help? Could I drop over and see her?

  “Sure, Steve. I know she’d like that. Caitie needs all the support she can get at present, especially from those close to her.”

  “Done deal. I’ll drop in next week. I’ll ring you first.”

  As an afterthought Steve added, “Are you and Jools okay? Do you need anything? Just ask. You know I’ve got contacts in high places.”

  “You guys going to hold each other’s hand and continue with your fookin’ mother’s meeting, or you coming over to have drinks with the crew?” Sean was on his way back from the bathroom and barged in unannounced, pouring cold water on Steve and G’s tête-à-tête.

  “By the way, it’s your buy, Steve. I’ll have one of those wog beers you’re having, buy a jug for the table, and Kylie wants a shiraz.”

  With that, Sean gave a cheeky Irish smile then spun around and made his way outside again, larger than life, stopping on the way to make a comment here and have a quick chat there to whoever he came across as he walked through the throng of yachties who were standing around in groups, talking boats.

  “That Irish prick!” said Steve, snapping out of his prior dark mood. “Suppose I better respond or he won’t shut up about it at work next week. What’s your poison, G? Another beer?”

  As Steve was waiting for the bartender to get the drinks together, he offhandedly said, “Thanks for the sail G, but I have to admit, I can’t really see the point of it all.

  “You two seem to spend buckets of money for the privilege of getting cold and wet and sailing round and round in circles, trying to run into other yachts. You must get a shitload if you win.”

  “Yeah mate, if we win today we’ll be paid handsomely. Probably get a monogrammed wine glass which Sean will most likely fill up with a rum and Coke to celebrate and then promptly break, or accidently leave on the bar. It’s high-paid work if you can get it.”

  “No shit? Can’t see the mileage in it really. Think I’d rather be dry and in the safety of the office making a dollar.”

  “So tell me Steve,” said Kylie, “What do you think about this poor kid Rishi who got bashed? Dec was just telling me all about him.”

  Steve’s reputation had preceded him, but today was the first time Kylie had actually clapped eyes on him and she was sounding him out. Kylie had a preconceived notion of what to expect, and it wasn’t all that flattering.

  “I feel sorry for the kid, but in the end he’s just a statistic. Unfortunately that type of thing happens all the time,” replied Steve.

  “Ah, sorry Steve, but maybe it shouldn’t have happened in the first place? This is Australia, not some Third World nation where there’s no law and order.”

  Kylie paused for effect, but Steve appeared disinterested.

  “Surely ‘the kid’ as you called him should be able to walk around the streets and feel safe. I’m sure you wouldn’t call it a statistic if your son was innocently beaten to a pulp and ended up in intensive care.”

  Kylie was in her usual form, adversarial, challenging, totally up front.

  Steve leaned backward, necked his beer and gave a forced smile, feigning patience, but really, he was biding time. His inner warning system that had protected him for so long suddenly went on high alert as he instantly recognized he had a deadly cobra in front of him trying to set him up before she went in for the kill shot. Drawing on the experience of a thousand battle
s, he instantly saw through the emotive language meant to fire him up and immediately put his armor on.

  We’re not dealing with your average dumb chick here. This one’s dangerous. She’s done this before.

  “So what do you suggest, Kylie?” replied Steve, in a purposefully gentle, questioning tone. “What’s the solution?”

  Steve attempted to take control by turning the tables around and jumping straight from problem to solution, thus avoiding the need to argue the case or justify any particular point of view.

  But Kylie was too smart to take the bait. “No, I’m asking you, Steve. You’re the one who said Rishi’s bashing was just a statistic. How would you feel if it happened to your kids?”

  “Stupid question. The same as you would feel if it was your children . . .”

  Steve hesitated momentarily, his thoughts catching up with his words.

  “Kylie, do you have kids?”

  “That’s got nothing to do with it.”

  “Do you have kids? If you don’t, you’re not qualified to ask that question.”

  “I . . . ah . . . “said Kylie, taken unawares.

  “I thought not,” said Steve, interjecting immediately. “So let’s just leave it at that, shall we? You’re good Kylie, but you’ve got to get up early to trap me. Sorry, discussion over.” With that, Steve stood up and headed to the toilet.

  “You arsehole. You can’t use that defense as an argument.” But Kylie ended up speaking to Steve’s back as he walked away, out of earshot. She realized she’d lost the battle.

  Smug prick, she thought to herself. I’d crucify him if he was in a courtroom.

  Sean was sitting to one side and had overheard Steve and Kylie’s discourse and smiled quietly to himself.

  Someone’s finally put Kylie back in her box. She’s a ball-breaker, but she may have met her match in Steve. He’s one smart dude.

  Wanna cum over for dins 2nite at my place? Can all catch an uber after to Chapel St. Dec said bring Justin. Txt me bk.

  Cait was forward planning. It was Nat and Jenny’s combined twenty-first birthday and they were having an over-the-top blowout party in Prahran to celebrate, and everyone who was cool or on their A-list had been invited. The twins weren’t used to doing things by halves, so Cait knew they were in for a big night.

  Actually, if the facts be known the twins weren’t twenty-one for another six weeks, but Steve and Jo, generous parents that they were, as their present had given them an all-inclusive, three-week skiing holiday in Whistler over the university Christmas break.

  I mean, isn’t this what everyone does on their twenty-first? Get wasted, then go on a holiday overseas to recover?

  So since the twins would be skiing in Canada when they actually turned twenty-one, tonight was the night to party. They had decided to party hard at a bar called Electric Lady Land in Chapel Street and invited eighty-odd of their very best and closest friends to come and celebrate their coming of age at an open bar event, complete with DJ, and knowing the twins, some twists and turns that would make the night memorable. It was going to be a wild evening that would no doubt go right through to tomorrow and beyond.

  But tonight was strictly for the kids and their friends. In typical sensational fashion, there was also a more toned down,”formal” version—or the after-party as the twins liked to refer to it—for family, parents, and the usual hangers-on tomorrow at Steve and Jo’s place.

  Like how sick was that, thought Cait. An all-weekend twenty-first.

  After all, the twins hadn’t earned the nickname”The Good-Time Sisters” for nothing. Behind their backs they were nicknamed”Paris” and”Nicky” for obvious reasons.

  “Hey Mum, Jason and Justin are coming over for dinner, okay?” yelled Cait, who was currently in the bathroom, to her mother, who was in the kitchen.

  I hate it when she does that! thought Jools. Not her friends coming over for a meal; that was a given and they were more than welcome at any time. Cait yelling at me two rooms away over the noise of the hair dryer. That’s what annoys the living crap out of me.

  G and Jools’s place was a bit like a halfway house for Cait and Dec’s friends. There was rarely a week that went by where someone wasn’t around for a meal and a drink. G and Jools were always welcoming of their children’s friends and their home had become such an institution to feed all and sundry that Jools prepared meals that were generously proportioned, just in case a few extra mouths walked in the door unannounced. Which for at least a few nights each week of late had included Rishi, but unfortunately not tonight.

  So needing a heads-up on how many people she was actually cooking for, against her best intentions, Jools yelled back at Cait, “That all. Just Jason and Justin?”

  “Yeah, I think so.”

  I’ll throw an extra shrimp on the barbie, as the saying goes, just in case. Guaranteed someone else will tag along.

  “Jools, what can we do to help Rishi?” asked Jason, just before tucking into a huge bowl of penne pasta with a lamb ragout Jools had been slow-cooking in the oven since midday. Not that he would appreciate it, Jools thought to herself, but at least it was made with love.

  “I’d like to do something, or like, see him or whatever, but I don’t know how to go about it.”

  “It’s easy, Jas. Get yourself to The Alfred, go to Neurosurgery on the second floor and tell the nurses station that you want to see him. He’s in the High Dependency Unit. It’s not rocket science, Jason,” said Kaz in a lighthearted but well-meaning manner.

  “Really, he hasn’t fully recovered, but he’s out of his coma. I’m sure that he’d love to see you, and Jas . . . he won’t bite, okay? He can talk, he’s still Rishi. He’s simply got a bit of a problem moving his right arm and leg. And he’s got a slight facial droop, but don’t let him see you shocked about it. Just treat him normally.”

  “Yeah, like, thanks Jools. I’ll go see him next week.”

  To Cait and Dec’s friends, Jools and G were cool. If they felt so disposed, they could actually talk to them and not get negative feedback or criticism, which in most cases immediately separated Jools and G from their own parents. Jools and G were nonjudgmental and always listened, and when appropriate, provided meaningful life tips and sagacious guidance that was then up to the listener to action or discard. Otherwise, there was just a friendly ear to listen to their stories of growing up as young adolescents in the modern world.

  “Hey Justin, you don’t have a leave pass for this either. Same as you, Dec,” commented G, backing up what Jools had just said. “You two both need to do some soul-searching here. Think what it would be like if you were the one lying in that hospital bed, not Rishi. I’m sure that you’d like a visit from the outside world instead of just speaking to doctors and nurses all day. Think about it. All he sees are the four walls of a hospital ward.”

  “But how is he really doing, Jools?” said Jason. “We all thought he’d be back out and with us again by now. I know he was looking forward to Nat and Jenny’s party tonight.”

  “I went to see him during the week,” said Cait. “He’s sad. And, like, not good. Guys, now that he’s out of his coma, he’s got a few problems. The nurses can’t say much of course, but they think that with rehab he should get back most of his movement and be able to, like, eventually walk and talk okay.”

  “Hey, that’s shit,” replied Justin. “I can’t believe that only a few weeks ago he was here, talking to us. I mean, like, he only had a few bruises and stuff. He wasn’t missing any teeth or anything. He seemed fine.”

  “Justin, that’s what can happen when you get a head injury,” interjected Jools. “They’re insidious things that can cause major problems. But at least now they’ve moved Rishi out of intensive care, so they must feel that he’s out of the danger zone and on the road to recovery.”

  “Yeah, well, it’s not fair. I wish he could be there with us tonight,” said Justin.

  “Look, I’m sure that he’ll be with you all again in a few months, s
o stop thinking the worst! Rishi will pull through. He’s young and strong and should recover. He just needs your support.”

  “Now, tell me about tonight. What’s the go?” said Jools, changing the topic before the kids ended up in a depressing black hole. Tonight was not the night to get into deep and meaningful talks about Rishi and his recovery; certainly not now when the kids were all hyped up and itching to party.

  “Sean spoke to me about Rishi today.” Paul was casually chatting to his wife Kaz. “Seems he’s not doing all that well. Apparently he’s not coming out of his coma properly. How is the poor kid? You spoken to the girls about him at all?”

  Paul and Kaz were out for a casual Friday night bite to eat at their local Italian, and to get some sanity into their discussion Paul desperately needed to move the conversation along from all Kaz’s woes in life. He’d just listened to ten solid minutes of Kaz complaining that she was just so busy looking after him and the house and the kids, how tired she was, her IBS, her numerous aches and pains that seemed to manifest in a different part of her body each week, and of course her constant doctor shopping to find that elusive silver bullet for all her ills and problems.

  If you’d just chill and take stock of your life you’d improve out of sight. It’s all in your mind, Kaz. Paul silently mused as he watched his wife dive into that black hole of a handbag that seemed to hold absolutely anything she may ever need at any time of day.

  You don’t need another quack to look into your eyes, down your throat, or up your bum; you need someone to look between your ears. The more stressed you get, the worse your symptoms. End of story.

  “Well, yes, he did come up in conversation. Bec mentioned she’d heard from Jools that he wasn’t good. The doctors think he may have some brain damage, but they’re not sure because he hasn’t been conscious for long enough to run any real tests. I must admit, it all seems rather strange. I mean, one minute he’s talking to the kids at the BBQ, and the next he’s in intensive care.”