Tuesday, 15 October 2024

My Second Job by Peter Lingard, a glass of full-cream milk

It is sometimes difficult to get the whole family together for a chat. Said family consists of me, the missus, Jackie, and the kids, Dwayne, Lauchlan and Willow. They all have different things going on their lives and so our best chance for an all-in meeting is Saturday breakfast. I almost limped into the kitchen as Friday night had left me a little sore. I know it’s a cliché, but I’m not as young as I once was.

When we were all seated and enjoying four kinds of cereal, I announced, ‘Yer mum an’ me reckon we’ll all go camping this summer.’

Spoons clattered into bowls.

‘What!’

‘Da ad.’

‘Do you think we’re still kids?’

‘No way,’ said Dwayne. ‘I’ve made the second team at cricket. I’m not going.’

‘Me, neither,’ exclaimed Willow. ‘I’ve made the first team.’ She stuck her tongue out at her brother to let him know she’d outdone him.

‘Yours is a girls’ team,’ he said condescendingly.

‘And I still made first team! Why don’t we play your lot?’

‘I can’t go either,’ Lauchlan said. ‘Me, Stagger, Jackson and Banksy ’re putting together a band. We’ll be writing numbers an’ rehearsing all summer.’ He looked at his sister. ‘Willow’s gonna try out fer vocals, too.’

Jackie put a hand on my wrist. ‘I did say it’d be difficult, darl. They’ve grown too old for holidays with us now.’

My stretched and achy muscles, bruised elbow and knee turned my enthusiasm to anger. I had thought a family holiday would be ideal. I knew they had gotten older but thought we had one communal effort left in us. I almost launched my resentment but Jackie must have sensed it because she quickly stood and told everyone to help clean up the table and dishes.

I decided some garden time would help me get over my disappointment. Jackie brought me another cup of coffee and I dropped the wheelbarrow to join her at the garden table.

‘You were going to vent your anger in there, weren’t you.’

‘Yeah. Thanks for saving me from myself.’ I took a tentative sip from the steaming mug. ‘I was disappointed, but I’ve realised my idea was foolish, even naive. Next thing, they’ll be leaving home.’

‘Not just yet, Tom. They still need us. Talking of which, they were all about to ask you for money to buy stuff they need. I think they saw breakfast as an ideal time until they were confronted by your camping suggestion.’

‘Confronted? My suggestion?’

‘Something like that. Thing is, Lauchlan wants a second guitar and amp. The other two need cricket gear - bats, pads and whatever. Plus, they’ll need travelling money for away games.’

‘Travelling money? ‘How far away are the schools they play against?’

‘They’re not playing for school,’ Jackie said with a smile. ‘They’re turning out for the town team who are short on sponsors at the moment, which is why you’re going to have to cough up.’

‘Yeah, well, my daytime job doesn’t cover all that, unless they can wait a bit. I’ll have ta do a little something extra to pay for it!’

‘Yes, well I have something in mind for you. You know my friend, Janice, the travelling nurse?’ I nodded. ‘One of the people she visits regularly has a fair bit of nice-looking jewellery in her dressing-table drawer. I thought you might like to check her windows and doors next Tuesday. She’ll be staying overnight in hospital for a procedure. A class cat burglar like you should have no trouble and I already have a prospective buyer for them.’

I managed a rueful smile. ‘Tuesday’s not so bad. I’ll be over my aches and pains from last night’s little venture by then.’

Jackie put on a different smile and entwined her fingers with mine. ‘Thinking of you in peoples’ bedrooms, reminds me of the night I found you in mine. Not a great night as a cat but, boy, you were great in other ways. Maybe you can wear the mask again tonight?’ 

About the author

Peter Lingard, born a Brit, served in the Royal Marines, was an accountant, a barman and a farm worker. He once lived in the US where he owned a freight forwarding business. An Aussie now because the sun frequently shines and the natives communicate in English. 

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