and started doing up the buttons. Any benefit from the massage was gone. I was tenser now than I’d been all week.
‘Think I’ll find another masseur.’
‘That’d be right. Push away everyone who cares about you. Keep going, pretty soon you’ll be all alone. Then you’ll be happy. You gotta know what you want to get what you want.’
I didn’t bother with the last few buttons or my shoelaces, just jerked the door open.
‘Wait,’ he said.
I stopped.
‘I’m sorry. I’m a prick, I know.’
I wanted to agree, but couldn’t. I was a prick too.
Anthony let out a long breath, then said, ‘I shouldn’t take it out on you. I’ve just got my own shit to deal with now, that’s all. I can’t handle Mum’s and Dad’s as well. I just . . . I’m sorry, I need help.’
I stood in the doorway as Anthony zipped up the gym bag, sprayed disinfectant on the massage bed and wiped it down in angry swipes.
‘What is it?’ I asked, suddenly ashamed of my behaviour and looking at my brother in what seemed like the first time in ages. Really looking at him.
‘Remember when we were kids, Rubes?’ he said. ‘We had that storm come through town, after the Ash Wednesday fires finally ended? Mum and Dad were out. We sat on the roof, watched the storm brewing on the hills. Remember?’
I nodded and came back in the room. For sure I remembered. It was February 1983, we were teenagers, and our farmhouse had survived the worst bushfires in living memory. Then there were the clouds. They were dark and angry, a mixture of black and orange, and they marched down from the hills as though God had sent them to earth to extinguish the blaze. I’ll never forget running back inside, stealing a sixpack of Dad’s beer, climbing onto the roof and smoking a joint with Anthony as the lightning started.
‘We hadn’t seen decent rain in years,’ I said. ‘When it eventually came, we just sat up there and let it soak us.’
Anthony sat on his desk.
‘Mum and Dad came home early. We shit ourselves, tried to hide the beer and the hooch, remember that?’
Yeah, I remembered that too. I’d climbed off the roof, soaking wet. Anthony had tossed down empty beer bottles and I’d bloody dropped one but the rain on the roof shielded the noise. Afterwards, we lied to Mum and Dad, said we’d been at Jacko’s place.
‘The lie was never gonna work,’ I said, remembering Mum’s fierce reaction and her handy use of the wooden spoon. ‘Dad smelt the beer on us a mile off, told Mum to deal with us. I suppose one look in the fridge he would’ve seen ’em missing too.’
Anthony laughed wryly. ‘Didn’t get done for the hooch though, did we?’
‘No. Not the hooch.’
Anthony went silent then and I felt an internal panic.
‘Andy, what’s going on?’
‘It’s Chloe,’ he said at last. ‘I found these in her bedroom.’
He handed me a bag with three pink tablets in it, each stamped with the Mercedes symbol.
‘Ecstasy,’ I said.
Anthony nodded gravely. Nuclear family nightmare.
‘You found these in her bedroom?’
‘In one of her drawers.’
I put the pills on the desk and leant against the wall with the muscle man on it.
‘Searching her room, Andy?’
‘No.’
‘Right.’ I waited.
‘Well, just as bloody well I did. What if it goes on? She could end up in hospital, or worse.’ Anthony rubbed his face. ‘I should’ve seen it, I s’pose. All the late nights and weird music. Whatever happened to seeing a band at the local pub?’
I often wondered the same thing.
‘No bands worth seeing any more,’ I said. ‘Too many popstar shows.’
‘Fuckin’ joke. I haven’t told Gabrielle yet, don’t know if I should. Not sure how she’ll handle it. Would you talk to her for me, Rubes?’
‘Who, Gabrielle?’
‘No, Chloe.’
‘Shit,’ I said, letting out a low whistle. ‘You should talk to her, Andy. You’re her father.’
‘Oh, come on! You know kids don’t listen to their parents. You’re a cop, for Christ’s sake. You’ve worked in the Drug Squad. She’ll listen to you.’ He handed the fifty-dollar note back. ‘Come on, you owe me that much. Keep your money, just help me out.’
I stared at the money, realising I had no choice. He needed my help.
‘She’s still a good kid, Andy. It’s probably just a phase. All kids go through it. Even we did.’
‘What, a bit of hooch? We never took this shit.’
‘It could be worse, you know? A lot worse.’
‘I envy you, Rubes,’ Anthony said, staring at the