Nobody Knows (17 page)

Half an hour later I was home. Still in reminiscing mode, I barely recognized the house in front of me. That first night when Joel had taken me home I had been mesmerized by the beauty and splendor of the immaculately maintained gardens, but they were long gone now. The water feature had been turned off and the fish had died. The fairy lights littered about the yard had all blown their globes and been blown from the branches through the years. Gone was the magical paradise and in its place stood a yard littered with bindies and tumble weeds.

Joel’s beat up Audi was sitting lifeless in the driveway. He had crashed into a tree years ago in a drunken rage. He hadn’t been hurt, but the car had required over ten thousand dollars’ worth of work just to keep it road worthy, and without an income and his savings gone, Joel had just parked it on the driveway and watched it fall apart. Like everything else in this house, it was now nothing more than a worthless piece of junk that had once been beautiful.

I hoped he wasn’t home. I wasn’t in the mood today to deal with Joel. I just needed some peace and quiet. Lucas jumped out of the car and tore through the house like he was on fire. Even though Joel had been more like a boarder than a father to him over the years, Lucas still idolized him. He wanted to spend time with him. Nevertheless, I could count on one hand the number of times Joel had actively sought Lucas out to throw a Frisbee or kick a football with him.

“Daddy!” he screeched delightedly. “Guess what, guess what! Where are you?”

I watched in horror as Lucas raced about the house banging on doors and waiting for something that I guessed would prove to be nothing more than yet another bitter disappointment. I had learnt years ago not to expect anything from Joel, and tragically both Bianca and Charli had learnt the same lessons the hard way, no matter how much I tried to protect them from it. Lucas reached up and tried to turn the door handle on Joel’s bedroom door. It wouldn’t budge. It was locked again.

“Daddy!” he squealed, becoming agitated.

I couldn’t simply stand by and watch as his innocent heart broke. “Lucas, come here and show me what you did at school today. Daddy has gone out. You can tell him about it when he gets home.” I felt as though I had just murdered his dreams. In my heart I knew that Lucas wouldn’t get the chance to tell Joel what he had done on his first day at big school. It was more likely that Joel would stumble through the door reeking of cheap perfume and alcohol long after Lucas was in bed.

Lucas wore a mask of disappointment as he perched himself on the sofa next to me and pulled papers out of his backpack. “You didn’t eat your lunch!” I scolded, noticing the mangled sandwich in the bottom of his bag.

“Oh, Mum. I was busy.”

“Yeah? Doing what?”

“Playing,” he said. His wide toothless smile was convincing; seeing that, I couldn’t be mad at him.

For twenty minutes Lucas told me about his new friends and the playground and his teacher and everything else about the school. In his eyes it was the best day ever. All he wanted to do was share it with his dad. And Dad was missing in action. Again. My heart broke at his repeated requests for his father. I wished Joel would wake up to himself and appreciate what he had right in front of him, but he didn’t. And he wouldn’t. And I couldn’t make him.

“Can I go play Lego, Mum?” Lucas asked. Not trusting myself to speak, I faked my best smile and nodded. Before I even opened my eyes, Lucas was bounding down the hallways happily. It was when I turned over a crumpled piece of paper that Lucas had squished into my hand that I realized what it was: a crayon drawing of Joel and Lucas swimming in the pool playing with a ball. I didn’t know where Lucas had dreamt the scene from, because it definitely wasn’t a memory. Joel had never once got in the pool with Lucas. Not since the day he was born. No one had been in the pool that I knew of for at least the past two swimming seasons. It too, like everything else, had begun to fall apart. Tiny blue tiles had fallen off and dotted the bottom of the pool like confetti. The filter was so compacted with leaves, twigs, and anything else that had happened to wiggle its way under the cover it had long ago been abandoned.

Frustrated at everything, I stomped into the kitchen and stuck a post-it note to the picture.
‘
Your son’s dream’
was all I wrote, and left it on the bench in the usual spot. It was sad to think that the only way Joel and I communicated these days was with post-it notes stuck to everything. The bills, kids’ permission slips, notes asking for money, information to be shared. It was a truce we had established after he closed the joint bank account and emptied it without telling me. He left me with nothing and took off. For almost two months he was just gone. Lucas was less than three weeks old and Joel just up and left. I found out later that he had flown to the Gold Coast, first class, and spent his time drinking in bars, wining and dining beautiful women, and staying at the Crowne Plaza in a spa suite. In less than two months he blew most of our savings and the rest he kept for himself. Without the four ladies in my life who were always there, there was no way I would ever have survived.

Chapter

Twenty-Two

Joel

The phone call came and he knew it was bad news before he even picked it up. His face twisted into a tortured scowl as he recognized Samantha’s direct office line appear on his screen. “Hello,” he said as politely as he could manage through gritted teeth.

“Good morning, Joel, it’s Samantha,” she said, exceedingly bubbly.

In his mind Joel knew she was enjoying his torment. “How can I help you this morning, Samantha?” he forced, almost spitting her name.

“If you could please come in for a meeting tomorrow at eleven, it would be appreciated. It will be in the corporate headquarters in Braddon.”

“I guess I could be there,” he snapped, not giving an inch.

“Right, I’ll see you then.” She clicked off.

Joel’s heart sank as he read into every word she said and even more heavily into each word she didn’t. Things were not looking good. Staring around the four walls of his bedroom, Joel was fuming. This was his prison. Beyond those walls was noise and dirt and squealing kids and a clingy wife and a life he had never asked for, a life someone else wanted and yet somehow, in some cruel joke, he had ended up with.

Unlocking the door, Joel stuck his head out the door and screamed, “Would you all just shut the fuck up? I’m trying to think.” Then, with the slam of the door and the click of the lock, visiting hours on the prison was closed. Instead, Joel fired up his computer and began looking for a new job. He knew it was coming and he couldn’t stop it. Office politics would end his career. That and the tramp perched at the reception desk.

The days since his suspension had become a blur. A whirlwind of drunken nights and hazy days. He was glad for the hours when the girls were at school and Gillian stayed away. She seemed to spend less and less time at home these days, especially when the kids weren’t with her. Secretly he hoped she was out looking for somewhere to live. The sooner she was out of his life the better. For the first time Joel regretted making her sell the ratty little apartment she had been living in when he had met her.

After two hours, finding nothing appealing, Joel gave up the job hunt and ducked out into the house. It wasn’t the house he wanted anymore. Toys littered the lounge floor and there was a stain on the white carpet from some spill. It wasn’t the home he had spent years and thousands of dollars building for himself. Seeing the state of the house just infuriated Joel. Then, without hesitation, Joel made a decision. It had been a long time coming, but the spill on the white carpet forced his hand. He was no longer going to allow anything else to fall victim to Gillian’s carelessness and lack of appreciation. He had worked too long and too hard for it to fall apart around him.

Joel worked methodically. Starting in the kitchen, he went through every cupboard, taking everything he wanted and squirreling it away in what was once Gillian’s side of the walk-in wardrobe. All the crystal glasses, the entire contents of the bar, anything with any value vanished into the wardrobe. An entire six person dinner set and the silver cutlery. Napkins, a tablecloth, a vase. Everything he wanted was packed away. He then moved onto the lounge, first disconnecting the wide screen television and the DVD player and setting it up in his room. Pictures came down from the walls and rugs were rolled up and stashed away.

Three hours later, with a thin film of sweat covering his entire body, he was satisfied. For now. The house looked half empty, as if someone had broken in and taken anything that was still in pristine condition or working order. All that was left was the chipped coffee table, a stained cushion and the pile of Wiggles DVDs. But now he felt revitalized. It would take time to complete the move, biding his time when Gillian was out so not to cause a scene, but eventually he would have his house, the part he was imprisoned in, exactly the way he wanted. He showered, threw on a pair of Calvin Klein jeans, and took off for his new favorite place to be—the nearest bar.

In a little over a week Joel had become a regular at the local haunt. He knew the other drunks sitting at the bar chain smoking. He knew each bartender by name and cup size. He made lewd comments about them and made everyone feel dirty and degraded, yet they still loved him. Every day Joel picked up the tab. Even if they got there and started drinking hours before he arrived, never giving their bodies time to sober up from the session of the day before, he would simply walk in, place his credit card on the bar, and sign on the dotted line when he left. He never even once looked at the amount. By the time he signed, he could barely see anyway, so it wouldn’t have made any difference.

“Joel, buddy.” A toothless bald man smiled gaily at him.

“Afternoon, Cameron.” Joel forced a smile back. The truth was Joel despised Cameron. He was everything Joel hated in life—a leech. He’d received an insurance payout years earlier and lived on that until the funds ran out. Now he spent his days drinking and sleeping and drooling on himself, living off government handouts and strangers’ generosity.

“Jack and Coke,” Joel ordered with a wink. He had turned his back before he saw the revolted look the surly bartender flashed in his direction. Hours passed and he finished drink after drink. The sun was already rising when he was helped into a taxi and sent home, barely hours before the meeting which would determine his fate.

Unable to get the key in his bedroom door lock, Joel slumped against it and passed out. Barely twenty minutes later his bright eyed daughters began bouncing on him and wishing him a good morning. He managed to sit up and look at them. They stood there, hopefulness written all over their young, innocent faces, before turning away, repulsed, as he vomited next to Charli, covering her favorite pink ballet shoes. He heard her scream for Gillian before he reached out and slapped Charli’s face, stunning her into silence. Bianca raced off crying, but Charli stood frozen to the spot clutching her face. It took barely seconds for a furious Gillian to appear and scoop Charli up into her protective arms. “You ever touch them again and you’ll regret it,” she threatened.

Astonished by his own actions, Joel watched Gillian as she hastily grabbed the girls and fled. He heard the car crunch the gravel and take off down the street before he passed out in the puddle of his own vomit.

The vibration from his mobile phone ringing in his top pocket crushed beneath him woke him hours later. “Fuck! Shit! Fuck!” Joel woke with a start. His phone ringing could only be yet another bad sign. And when he checked the caller ID he knew he was right. It was the wicked bitch of the west, Samantha.

“Hi,” he puffed down the phone, as he pulled himself up as quickly as he could and forced open his bedroom door.

“Nice to hear you’re still alive, Joel,” she said frostily.

Joel wanted to tell her what he really thought, but knew it was a bad idea. If he wanted his career back, his life back, or even just a second chance, playing nice with Samantha was a necessity. “Yeah, still alive. A few dramas this morning getting Lucas off to school for his first day. Wouldn’t let Gillian take him, it had to be Dad. Then he cried and cried and just wouldn’t let to go.” Joel lied like it was nothing. He could smell something disgusting and when he saw his face in the mirror and spotted the chunks of sick in his own hair, he wanted to vomit again. But instead it just inspired another lie. “Then he made himself sick all over me so I just dashed home to change. Sorry I’m running late,” he lied easily.

“Fine,” Samantha stated dismissively, her tone indicating she didn’t believe a word but nevertheless letting him get away with it. “How long do you think you will be? Michael and I have other appointments so we can’t wait around for you all day.”

The mention of Michael’s name turned Joel sober instantly. He was the CEO, and while lovely ninety-five percent of the time, if you failed him or lied to him or embarrassed him in any way, the consequences were dire.

“Ten minutes tops,” Joel said, slamming the front door behind him and sprinting to the car. His Audi was still at the pub from last night, but luckily Gillian’s old Barina was still parked in the driveway. Why she’d insisted on keeping it all these years was beyond Joel, but in that crazy moment he was thankful it was there. “Running out the door now,” he said, and for the first time he was telling the truth.

The Barina had never moved so fast or as aggressively as it did that day, darting between cars and racing red lights. By the time he got to the office, only eight minutes had passed. He’d had time to splash water on his face, swallow half a bottle of mouthwash, and pull on some clean clothes, doing up his fly and tie in the car as he flew in. “Not a bad effort,” he congratulated himself, jumping out of the car and taking the stairs three at a time.

Out of breath, Joel was completely bewildered when the nasty receptionist in the corporate office asked him to take a seat and she would check if Mr. Thomas was available to see him. Two weeks ago he used to breeze through the door like he owned the place, barely bothering to acknowledge the receptionist even existed. It was not a good sign.

After fifteen painfully drawn-out minutes, he was summoned to Michael’s office. It was large and intimidating and everything the CEO’s office should be: immaculate but not over the top, classy but not obscene, inspiring but not homey. Someone had good taste.

Gulping down the lump that had formed in his throat as he had nervously walked down the corridor, his palms were sweaty and his stomach was still gurgling from last night’s effort. He hadn’t planned to drink that much, but the first tasted so good that by the tenth it was like drinking water. And he was just so damn thirsty he couldn’t stop.

Joel appeared in the doorway. Michael spotted him and rose from his high-backed leather chair to greet him. As inconspicuously as he could, Joel dried his palm on his pants as he reached out to shake Michael’s hand.

“Thanks for coming in today, Joel,” Michael offered professionally.

“No problem.” Joel flashed the cheesy grin that in the past had got him out of so much trouble.

He’d been in Michael’s office so many times over the years and never before had he been afraid, but today was different. Samantha just nodded in his direction, refusing to stand and greet him. Joel had always considered Michael more than just a boss, but like a friend who understood him. Very few people actually did, but Michael was one of the few who did, who knew what it was like to be in his situation, but today Joel barely recognized the man staring back at him. The disappointed dad look was the perfect costume.

“Have a seat, Joel,” Michael indicated, pointing to the chair next to Samantha. Sliding into the seat, Joel said nothing. Maintaining the stoic silence required all his effort and concentration. “It frustrates me to have to have this discussion with you, Joel. Nevertheless, it is my responsibility to do so. You may or may not be aware I’ve received a serious complaint about your conduct. You were temporarily suspended until I had the chance to investigate further.” Michael paused briefly to sip his water. Samantha continued to look out the window and at the floor and the ceiling, anywhere other than at Joel.

Joel gulped. He was gone. The look on Michael’s face made it obvious, but he had to sit through this, whatever it was. “It was a very serious allegation made against you personally and it was my duty to fully investigate the incident. I have now completed my inquiries and I have no choice but to inform you that from this moment forth you are no longer employed at Max Meredith & Sons.”

Michael paused and waited for Joel’s reaction. Unfortunately, Joel wasn’t the first agent Michael had been forced to fire over the years, and he probably wouldn’t be the last, but what he was seeing now truly surprised him. After knowing Joel for all those years, he expected to see some semblance of that wild temper he knew he possessed, but nothing came. Joel was stony faced and somber, merely nodding his agreement.

“Okay,” he said, no louder than a whisper, after a long while.

Michael waited to see if there was any more. When nothing else came he continued, “The nature of the complaint was disturbing and I’ll admit I was extremely troubled and upset to hear that such a thing had happened. I have convinced the young lady involved to not press charges against you, and I gave her my word that I would deal with the situation sufficiently. You are not to go back to your office. Samantha will clean out your office for you and arrange for the boxes to be delivered to your home. You will, however, need to turn your swipe card and keys in immediately.”

Stunned, Joel reached into his pocket and pulled out the keys, dropping them silently into Samantha’s outstretched hand, following immediately with the swipe card. “I am sorry it ended like this, Joel. Whatever is going on with you, and I’ve known you long enough to know that there is something going on, you need to deal with it. Get some help. Sort yourself out,” he offered. He stood up, indicating that this meeting was over.

Silently, Joel got up and walked out. That chapter of his life was over. He thought about fighting it, making a scene, letting everyone know that he would not tolerate this, but in his heart he knew that there was no point. It was over. Best to just walk away with what little dignity he had left. He went home and went to his room. Shut the curtains, shut out the daylight, shut out the world and went to sleep.