Bailey sat on the floor of his apartment, surrounded by boxes, but this time it was different. Instead of the usual cardboard boxes being full of second-hand books ready to take out to the van, these boxes were either empty or half-full of Bailey's things.
The half a dozen boxes on the lounge room floor contained Bailey's limited possessions—the personal paperbacks that he would never get rid of, an old shoebox containing photos, and some memorabilia from high school. He had no idea why he held on to the old paper certificates testifying to his classroom achievements or the golden plastic trophy from junior soccer. It wasn’t as if he had ever been a champion at anything. Safely tucked at the bottom of one of the boxes was a smaller box Bailey didn't have the heart to open. It contained a few treasured items that had belonged to his brother, Stuart. Although it brought back too many memories to open the box and actually touch the bits and pieces within, it gave Bailey comfort to know they were there, that part of his brother was still with him. He didn't need to look at the items anyway. He knew exactly what was in the box, all of his brother’s possessions committed to memory—an old cricket ball, Stuart’s prized comic books, his favourite footy jersey, a well-worn deck of cards. God, I was hopeless at poker. Bailey smiled at the memory of Stuart’s teasing at Bailey’s inability to hold a poker face, but his determination for Bailey to master the game.
Bailey tucked a Bluetooth speaker into the top of one of the boxes and closed the flaps. As he used masking tape to seal the box, he was grateful for modern technology and the fact that he didn't have to pack CDs and DVDs.
With a groan he lifted himself from the floor and made his way to the kitchen. The room was in the same state of disarray as the living room, boxes on the benchtop and on the floor, each box filled to the brim with the contents of all the drawers and cupboards—mismatched crockery and cutlery, pots and pans, and all sorts of kitchen paraphernalia. Stacked neatly on the end of the counter were a few items Bailey had left out—things he needed to use between now and D-Day.
Oh God, D-Day.
He only had one week until he had to be out of this place, and still no idea where he was going to go.
With a sigh, he filled the kettle and set it to boil. He leaned on the cupboard while he waited, using the opportunity to make his regular Thursday call.
“Hello?”
“Hi Mum. It’s me.”
“Hi Bailey. Is it that time already? I can’t believe it’s already been a week since we spoke.”
Bailey chuckled. “I can always hang up and call back in another week if you don’t want to talk to me.”
“Ha ha. Always the funny one. Don’t you dare hang up. Hold on a sec while I turn off the sauce.”
He could hear the sounds of his mother moving around and could picture her in front of the stove. The wave of nostalgia was strong as he visualised her in the kitchen of the family home in her leggings and a jumper teamed with her Ugg boots, something she wouldn’t be seen dead in outside the house but was her comfy “uniform” while at home. He wondered what she was cooking and glanced around his own kitchen. There’d be no warm and comforting home-cooked meal for him tonight. He was too exhausted to even pretend to cook, not that were was much food in the fridge anyway—he’d be lucky if he had the ingredients for grilled cheese. There was the sound of something hitting metal, a cupboard opening, the water running briefly, and then she was back.
“Sorry, honey. I’m making bolognese and didn’t want the sauce to stick while we chatted, and I was desperate for a glass of water. I didn’t mean to keep you waiting so long. You do have time to talk for a while, right?”
“I’ve got some time.” The kettle reached boiling point so Bailey started making a mug of tea. “I’m not going out until later tonight.”
“I assume you mean with the library. I wish you wouldn’t go out so late. You know I don’t like the thought of you out on those streets.”
If only she knew just how close I am to really being out on those streets.
“I know, Mum, but I’ve had a lot to do today and it’s taken longer than I thought.” He looked ruefully at the boxes.
“You could give it a miss tonight.” He could hear the hopefulness in her voice and for a moment allowed himself to think how bone tired he was. There was no doubt he was tempted.
He sighed. “You know I can’t do that, Mum. I don’t want to let the kids down.”
“I know, honey. Your heart is too big. I just worry about you.”
“And I’m lucky to have you care so much.” Bailey took his tea and wandered back to the lounge room. He shoved aside a box and settled on the couch. This was the same conversation they had every week and he rattled off the same spiel in an effort to reassure her he was safe until she eventually allowed the topic to be changed.
“Sarah hasn’t stopped talking about you all week. She loved the gift from her super-awesome brother. Her words, not mine.” His mum laughed.
“She’s the awesome one. She did so well.”
“I wish you’d been able to come to the carnival and see her run. But the books were a wonderful surprise.”
Bailey cringed inwardly—a gift of books didn’t make up for not seeing Sarah in person, but there was no way he could afford the return trip to Brisbane.
“And what about you, honey. What’s news?” Bailey’s stomach dropped at the question. He didn’t want to lie but he didn’t want to break the news to her about the dire straits he was facing. “How are things going with that girl you were helping?”
He let out a breath in relief. That was a question he could handle and it did give him pleasure to talk about Emma’s achievements. “She’s doing great. I’m amazed at how much effort she’s putting in.”
“She obviously wants to make something of herself. Sometimes people just need the opportunity to really shine. She must be a smart girl, taking you up on your offer of help.”
“I enjoy helping Emma too. I like spending time with her and seeing the changes, seeing how much more confident she is. She reminds me of Sarah a little bit, getting more and more outgoing as she becomes more sure of herself.”
He sipped his tea as his mum took over the conversation, giving him the latest news on his sister. From the sounds of it, Sarah was excelling at more than just the cross-country. In fact, the old Sarah would never have even tackled the cross-country, let alone completed the course. Her self-confidence and willingness to put herself out there were definitely shining through. His mum put a lot of it down to her new friends and the support she got in all facets of her life.
“And what about everything else?” His mum changed the topic once again, back to her favourite subject—Bailey’s life. “How’s the job going? And don’t think I’ll let you end this call without an update on that boy you were seeing.”
Bailey could feel the smile as he thought of Tom. “He’s great. We’re great.”
“Things are getting serious then?” He could hear the hopefulness in his mum’s voice as she asked the question.
“I think so. Tom’s special. I really want this to work.”
“And why wouldn’t it? You’d be a wonderful catch for any man.”
I want to be the kind of man who’s good enough for Tom, the kind of guy he deserves.
“Thanks, Mum. You’re always good for my ego.”
“Pfft. I shouldn’t have to keep reminding you of what a good person you are, Bailey. I wish you’d start to believe it. Now what about Ryan? Is he enjoying the Philippines?”
“Ryan’s fine. He’s been posting snaps of all the new places he’s visiting. It’s not ‘all work, no play,’ that’s for sure.”
“Maybe you’ll be able to go visit him someday soon. A holiday will do you good.”
“Hmm.”
“Bailey? You don’t sound like yourself. And don’t think I haven’t noticed you’re avoiding most of my questions today.”
God, she’s like a dog with a bone.
Sometimes he wished his mum didn’t know him so well.
“I’m okay, really. There’s just been a lot happening lately and I don’t want to worry you. I can handle it.”
“Humph.” He could imagine her rolling her eyes as she paced the kitchen. “That’s my job, Bailey. Mothers worry. We worry about our kids all the time. I worry about you when I know things are good, I worry when I know you’re doing it tough, and you telling me not to worry won’t change a thing.”
Bailey couldn’t help the sigh. “I know.”
“So why don’t you tell me what’s going on, what’s got you so upset? We might not see each other very often but I’m still your mother and I want to help where I can.”
“And you do help. Every time we speak.” As he said the words he realised how much she actually did support him by being a sounding board, and honestly, he was sick to death of holding it all in, with only Ryan, his now distant friend, to talk to. While he didn’t want to add to her stress, he did want to tell her what was on his mind.
“Bailey?”
“Sorry, just thinking.” He took a deep breath. “Things aren’t exactly smooth sailing at the moment. I lost my job. They did a reorg and most of the call centre jobs have gone off-shore.”
“Oh, honey—”
“It’s okay. I didn’t like the job anyway, but….”
“But what?”
I may as well give in. And God, he really wanted to confide in her. “There’s something else. I’ve been given notice here at the apartment. The old man wants me to leave so his grandson can move in.”
“Oh no. I can’t believe it. I’m so sorry, sweetheart. When it rains it pours.”
“You can say that again.” Bailey snorted a laugh. It was either that or he was going to cry. Fuck! “Anyway, I need to get another job soon and find somewhere to live. It’s not too much to hope for, right?”
“I’ll be crossing my fingers for you.”
“Me too.”
“Bailey, you probably don’t want to hear this, but you can always come home, back to Brisbane, you know.” A chill ran through his veins. “I realise you and your dad have your problems—”
“Problems!”
“Just listen to me for a moment. Despite what’s happened in the past, your father still loves you—”
Bailey snorted. “Yeah, funny way of showing it.”
“He’s calmed down a lot over the last couple of years. He’s not drinking as much—”
“But he’s still drinking.”
“Yes, but only socially. I’ve tried to tell you before, he really has changed, Bailey. He regrets everything that happened between the two of you.”
“Well, maybe he could tell me that.”
“I’m sure he would if you ever came home to see us.”
The guilt was fleeting. No, I’m not going to think like that. “Mum, I know you really believe what you’re saying, but Dad and I rub each other the wrong way. If I come home it’ll just remind him of Stuart, things’ll get tense, we’ll fight, and you and Sarah will be caught in the middle. I don’t want that for you, for both of you to live in a house that’s uncomfortable.” He paused momentarily. “And what if all that causes him to start drinking heavily again?”
“And what if it doesn’t?”
“It’s not worth the risk.”
“Just keep it in mind, honey. There is a bed for you here if you don’t find another alternative before you have to move out. Perhaps you could come for a visit, maybe join us for a small holiday. Test the waters, so to speak.”
He couldn’t afford the trip to Brisbane, and moving back to his home town held absolutely no appeal. What ever happened with this future, Bailey knew it wasn’t in Brisbane.
“I’ll think about it, Mum, but no promises.”
“Okay, honey. That’s all I ask.”
They wrapped up the call. Bailey stayed on the couch, sipping the cooling tea.
* * *
Bailey stabbed the button on his phone and quit the app. He tossed the device onto the table. “Fuck.”
A white paper bag hit the tabletop and chair legs scraped on the linoleum as Richard yanked out a chair and sat. He ripped open the bag and shoved a sandwich into this mouth. Bailey watched as he chewed a huge bite of bread and ham. Richard met his eyes. “Wha?” he mumbled around the mouthful.
“Nothing.”
“Want some?” Richard shoved the open bag towards Bailey, sliding it across the lunch table.
“No. Thanks anyway.” Bailey went back to staring morosely at his phone.
“What’s up?”
Bailey met Richard’s concerned gaze. He obviously wasn’t going to give up. “I don’t suppose you know anyone looking for a flatmate?” The last thing Bailey wanted was to live with a stranger, but beggars couldn’t be choosers.
“Have you checked the company intranet?”
He consciously tried not to roll his eyes. As much as it grieved him, he had stooped that low. “Yeah.”
“No luck, I take it?”
“Nothing.”
“Sorry, mate. I’d offer my place to you but I’m living back at home. Our last lease ended recently and I’m back with Mum and Dad to save some money. Although if you get desperate I guess you could sleep on the couch.”
“Thanks, Rich, but I’m sure something will come up.”
“How long have you got before you need to be out?” Richard asked.
“End of the week.” Bailey grimaced as he said the words—another six days and he’d be officially homeless.
“Fuck! That’s not long. So what are you gonna do?”
Bailey shrugged. “That’s the million-dollar question.”
In one week he’d be out on the street. At least I have the van. But the thought wasn’t remotely comforting. And in another month, he’d be out of a regular job at the energy company and relying on some casual bar work. Who’d ever give him a lease then?