- Mr Fawcett? Uh. Hi! It's Sean. Sean Carson. We used to live next door, remember?
Yup, well, err, how're y'doing?
- O that's cool, yeah. Yup, err, I'm fine too.
- O sure, sure, my mum's getting on OK, yep - well, urn, same as ever, 1 guess. Umm, err.
- Mr Fawcett, uh, look, umm err - remember you said, that time when we were shifting away, you know, moving off to Hamilton, you said 1 could come stay with you, eh, any time 1 was passing through? You meant that, didn't you?
- Oh, err, thanks, yes, that's really big of you. Yeah, well umm, the truth is, I'm in town right now. So, err - the thing is, would tonight be OK? 1 know it's short notice, but, err, would it be OK, d'you think, just for tonight?
Hey, look, err, thanks, that'd be sweet as, really. And the thing is, y'see, I've got a few students with me. Six of them, actually, we've been off on a field trip. You know, Geomorphology stuff. Be just be a matter of parking them on the floor somewhere, that'd be all. Only a bit of floor-space, anywhere, eh, no trouble really, that'd be just fine. They've all got sleeping bags.
- Gee, look, umm, thanks a lot. Knew you wouldn't mind, not really. You'll like them, sure, great kids. No trouble at all.
- Well, umm, no, we haven't actually. It's - err - a bit of a story.
- Yeah, yeah, sure, yes. Chinese takeaways'd be sweet as. Anything at all. They're an easy crowd.
- Thanks so much. Yep, well, see you soon then.
- Bye.
Buggar! He went to sit on the loo, to get over the adrenaline shock. Too old for this hoo-ha. Hmm! Sean Carson. Yes, it came back now. Breezy, bustling, quite bright, in his way, pony-tail half down his back. Got that varsity job in Waikato a couple of years ago, didn't he. Remember his mother, in the same class at school. Some sort of fourth cousin, come to think of it. Arthritis, isn't it?
God, what's this? Hell's bloody teeth! Voices, invaders, inside my house!
He re-organised himself in too much of a hurry, and stumbled out. Already, his kitchen was full of brightly clad, bright-faced students talking fit to bust, helping themselves to coffee, and to stuff out of the pantry.
- O Mr Fawcett, we're here, yes. You didn't come to either door, and 1 knew you wouldn't mind. Now, err, this is Sue, this is Liz, this is Pete, uh, this is Mike and Fiona, and this is Jane. Yes, urn, Jane.
- O gawd, urn, sorry, Jeanna - dunnit again. Yes, of course, Jeanna. Look, err, this is Mr Fawcett, everyone, OK? Sort of third uncle, twice removed, he is, on my mulls side, eh? Neighbour too - see through that window there that house with the brown stucco, - that's where 1 grew up.
- Ah, Mr Fawcett, those - uh - takeaways you were talking about - Jeanna and Pete, they're both vegetarians, you'll remember that, won't you.
- O, and while you're away, you wouldn't mind one of the kids using your phone for a moment, would you, just to touch base with her mum? It's Sue's mum, she's not been too well.
- O great, you're back. Yes, that looks just fine. Hey, Liz, get off that phone will you. Time to eat. Yes, she does go on, sister's in Perth or somewhere. Yes, the chicks've all loved catching up with people.
- Look, guys, we watched "Home Improvement" in the motor camp last night. And the night before. So tonight it's "Shortland Street" to suit Pete and me, and if you can't stand it you can go off and read, or ring up, or something.
- Now come on you guys, sort yourselves out. Two in the double bed, two in the singles, urn, one on the stretcher, me and, err, Mr Fawcett and one other body on the floor. Just fine, eh.
- OK Liz, you can manage the floor? Sweet as!
- Mr Fawcett, urn, sorry, but do you think you might be able to give that left-hand single bedroom a bit of a vacuuming? It's Sue, she's getting all stressed and scared, she's inclined to get this awesome allergy thing to dust and stuff. Sort of asthma, you know, quite nasty - 1 know the place's clean enough already, but just the idea of a scrap of fluff means she can't settle. Right through, she's had to see a place being cleaned.
Yes, that looks sweet as now. You'll be OK now won't you Sue. Just fine.
- Look, ah, Mr Fawcett, you don't happen to have any condoms, do you? It's bloody Mike and Fiona, they've run out. I guess we should have gone for "Home Improvement" after all.
- OK, just down at the corner then. That machine takes three dollars? Umm, err, you don't happen to have the right change do you? - O thanks, yes. That'll be just fine,
- Mr Fawcett, hey, you awake? Look, sorry, can you give us bit of help, do you think? It's damn Jeanna. And that big vase thing in the hall. With the fem. She was trying to find her way to the loo in the dark, and she just sort of crashed into it.
- Yes, she's cut her foot open on a bit of broken pottery. Would you have some bandages or elastoplast or something?
- O come on, Jeanna, stop crying won't you, it's only a bit of blood. We'll soon fix you up.
- There now, it's all clean. And it's not that big really, it shouldn't need stitching.
- There we are, Mr Fawcett's patched you up nicely, you'll be OK now. Just fine. So just try and get back to sleep, will you.
- Nah, don't worry about it now, Mr Fawcett'll clean up all the blood and stuff in the morning. It'll be fine.
- OK right, we'll be on our way then. Thanks for the breakfast, that was great. Look, err, would you mind? It's the petrol for the van - we've run a bit short of cash. Computer games, the pub - you know.
- Yeah, yeah, forty dollars would be sweet as. That should get us home. The university, they'll reimburse you, sure. Yes, just send them a claim letter, to the Bursar, 1 guess, be no problem at all.
- Yes, that'll be heaps. Thanks. Thanks a lot. Well, then, OK, umm, err - see you next month eh. I'll be coming through with a group of - about - ten, 1 think. That'll be sweet as, won't it? Just fine. Yes.
- Bye.
For the next hour or so, fixing the shambles in the kitchen, carting out takeaway containers to the bag, washing up, re-locating chairs, he was driven along by pure fury. That young bastard. Rotten, manipulative, scrounging, twisting, shameless young scumbag. Jesus!
And look at me. To think I'd spent half the night, lying awake, not even a mattress to spare, devising utterly devastating, crushing, obliterating curses, upon him upon them all. And then, not a word, not that kind - smile, yes, here, help yourself What sort of a man am I anyway?
In the bedrooms, wreckage. Blankets, sheets, flung on the floor - he'd have to wash every one of them. A few used, knotted Things. Ugh. A couple of pongy socks - should he wash them, and send them on? Or just heave them out?
What sort of a man, anyway? Garr, no wonder Margaret went off, on her own - well, with those other women. And the boys - off to Auckland, soon as they could. Hardly surprising - not much life here any more, not the jobs.
But we had jobs all right. 1 worked all my life didn't 1? Damn, the lingering pong of unwashed feet brings it back - a life in a shoe shop, trying to sell shoes.
Yes, sir, - no, sir, - anything you say, sir. Never exactly grovelling, but - you had to try to make the sales, didn't you. And hell, he'd got to know decent leather, good lasts, it was something. But why do 1 still put on a tie, even when I'm just going down the road to the dairy?
O God, the ruination in the hall. Broken stuff, dirt and blood trodden into the carpet. It would take hours. Gah, that little ponce Sean. Used to sneak through the fence after the strawberries, the plums, anything. Not changed all that much, had he. He'd yelled at him, chased him away. A bit of spirit though, you had to admit. Those had been good days.
Not one buggar in ten coming into the shop seriously meaning to buy something. And these days, well, take this bunch, it's all just bloody trainers and sneakers and stuff. Not one scrap of genuine leather.
But dammit this is crazy - you'd still looked forward to seeing who would come in. Ridiculous, why do 1 find myself now so impatient for this next bloody lot, a whole month away, to get furious with all over again? And the mungle in the bathroom. Not one thing in its proper place, grubbiness, the shower plug-hole bunged up with hair. But isn't it quiet! Dreadful really. Desperately quiet. Damn, what's wrong with me? Everything so quiet, suddenly, so empty.
By the suds in the washbasin he sits down on the toilet lid and weeps.