32

Demand for weatherboard box houses in skinny streets in West Footscray is slow, and selling takes months. Emmett’s trying to take it easy and cut back once again on the grog. But it’s not easy. He can’t get a proper breath into his bloody lungs. And he cannot sleep. Not at all. Not one single bloody wink. Beer, that’s the answer, he tells himself, good old beer never hurt anybody, it’s practically medicine.

The new neighbours are wogs of some kind and the woman next door bellows the kid’s name morning, noon and night. Sounds exactly like ‘arsehole’ to Emmett. One night over spaghetti puttanesca, Peter tells him that the kid’s name is Tassos but this doesn’t help. Emmett isn’t mad on these spicy sauces either, or spaghetti really when it comes down to it, but the kid’s made an effort, so what can you say? These days there’s not much of an audience for his tantrums. And tantrums really take it out of you. He often finds he has to take a sickie the next day.

One afternoon, Emmett, home early as ever, finds Peter herded out by the estate agent into the backyard under the clothesline on the crate picking out ‘Wish You Were Here’ on the guitar. The tomatoes have gone all leggy and smell ripped and tight, with a few as red as rubies and getting redder.

A family of six is poking around inside with the air of owners. Emmett comes upon a grandmother sitting in his chair in the lounge room and for one white second he nearly explodes. Instead he storms out, alarmed and ready to riot, but for some reason he keeps his voice down. There is money involved, he reasons, and a deener is still a deener.

He heads straight for Pete in the yard and hisses pretty loud, ‘What the fuck is going on? Who are those bastards telling a man what to do in his own house? And there’s a bloody old wog sheila sitting in a man’s chair. Fair bloody dinkum mate, this is it. We have reached the dizzy fucking limit!’

Pete explains that the agent wants one last go at selling the joint. ‘Apparently they’re fair dinkum,’ he says, and Emmett’s eyebrows rise and the peerless blue sky swims around them. The light’s so clean today, Pete thinks, that even here in Footscray, you feel the planet moving through space. Not such a bad day. He manages a smile at the old man.

Emmett turns to the hose for comfort and waters his remaining tomatoes. A small child detaches itself from the party looking at the house and comes to stand beside Emmett. ‘What’s your name?’ says the child.

Emmett can’t bring himself to speak to the boy and briefly considers hosing him, could do with a good drenching, he reckons, but decides against it and just says quietly, ‘You better choof off now young man, your mother wants you.’

Peter goes up to talk to the agent and it seems the Greeks do want the house and have even made an offer there and then on the front verandah with a solid brick of cash to back it up. The agent holds it like it might fly away and grins nervously.

The years at Wolf Street tower before Peter. This house is at the heart of every single thing he’s ever known. He walks down the passage out to the kitchen. He stands on the step and looks over at Emmett watering in the yard and the idea of leaving slams into him.

How can we possibly not live in this shit-hole? he thinks. All the pain. And Daniel. In his mind Pete sees the corner of the kitchen where Daniel hit his head.

When Peter walks over Emmett, feeling philosophical, says, ‘Agent piss off then? So much for fair dinkum with those blokes. Would not know the meaning of the word.

‘Growing things, Peter. This is what it’s all about mate. You grow something and it does what you want. It’s obedient and quiet and you can eat the bastards.’ And Peter understands that his father clearly prefers tomatoes to kids and his wife, which is no surprise. He looks back at the house, steadfastly refusing to praise the tomatoes.

‘Come on Pete, look at this beauty. They are works of bloody art, for Key-Ryst’s sake mate, you’ve got to admit.’ So inevitably Peter slides his eyes towards the tomatoes and says, ‘Yeah, they look great Dad. What do you want for tea? Tomato soup?’ He’ll tell Emmett about the sale after tea. Tell him before, and he’ll only get himself all worked up and ruin another good meal.

Silence follows and Pete moves into the kitchen to produce a dinner that since Louisa has started teaching him about food always has something special: yoghurt and mint sauce with the chops or a glistening salad and a good vinaigrette. At last Emmett has the cook of his dreams working for him.

Emmett takes to Louisa’s John Keele with an ease that astounds everyone. The man who hates outsiders, who trusts no man, well, it turns out, he doesn’t mind John Keele at all.

The first time Louisa brings him over he says politely to John dithering at the screen door, ‘Come in, young fellow, what the hell are you waiting for?’ and gives him a quick once over. ‘Hair’s very light. One of them Scandinavian mob are you?’ he wonders out loud, not waiting for an answer.

He turns to Pete and bellows, ‘For God’s sake Pete, get this bloke a bloody beer. Quick smart! Can’t you see a man’s dying a thirst here?’

Pete goes to the fridge and swoops in, grabs one and hands it to John who smiles his thanks. Emmett’s grinning away at John like the Cheshire cat but Louisa thinks, I’m the invisible one. Unfolding plainly before her is something she’s long suspected, her father prefers men. Women, she thinks bitterly, he sees no sense in us at all. You need a penis to be real around here.

Still, she gives a thin little smile, glad enough that Emmett likes John. Relieved that the night is full with Emmett’s bounty. Pete leans back against the wall and they settle in for Emmett’s performance. He launches into a few poems starting with Banjo and moving on to Lawson and C.J. Dennis and John keeps smiling.

Louisa doesn’t know whether to be horrified or to laugh. She thinks she loves this man, but having Emmett in full flight is bound to put anyone off. How do you stop Emmett Brown? And what if it turns? But John seems to be happy. He’s laughing and joking with Emmett and even reading a few poems. What’s going on?

Then the mood shifts with the light outside the window. Anne says they should be thinking about tea. ‘What about Chinese,’ she suggests, ‘celebrate meeting John?’

Emmett puts up ten bucks and Louisa and John nip down to Poons to pick it up and leaning on the wall in the restaurant under the giant chopsticks clock, he remarks, ‘Your dad has quite a strong personality, doesn’t he?’ The understatement of the century, she thinks, and that she might start laughing and never stop.

‘Yeah, he does,’ she says, struggling to stay calm. And later, stopping at the traffic lights, they kiss and she feels she has had a reprieve from something, that John has been spared for her.