‘Probably got a slight concussion. Want a hospital?’
‘I could sue you for assault and… restraint or whatever they call it.’
‘You’d look pretty silly doing that.’
He went quiet but his breathing sounded normal and he seemed to be okay-physically. I reached down for the bottle of water I’d brought on the drive out and passed it to him. He unscrewed the top and swigged.
‘Where d’you want to go, Gary?’
He sounded young all of a sudden. ‘I dunno.’
‘Tell you what, why don’t we go and call on your old man.’
‘What?’ he said, sounding even younger.
I told him everything. He listened, occasionally turning his head to look at me. After I finished he stayed silent for quite a few minutes.
‘I didn’t think he gave a shit about me,’ he said.
‘He does. Probably has trouble showing it.’
‘I suppose so. It’s mutual, I guess. I used to look at a picture of him that Mum had, and I wished… but we never… He’s right that Sirdar got me interested in DTS, but he’s behind the times and way off-beam. Him and my mum were washed up a while back. They’re just friends now. Sirdar’s not a Muslim by the way, he’s a Christian. What do you think of DTS?’
‘How much did you pay to go on the course?’
‘Three thousand dollars. I took out a loan to pay it.’
‘I think it’s an exploitative play-acting operation. If you want to be a soldier, join the army, or the reservists.’
‘I might. What would my father think of that?’
‘I don’t know. He was a very good soldier himself, but he might have a different opinion of the army these days, the way things are.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Politics. Was it true what you said about the consequences of trying to get out of the place-the bastardisation, as it’s known?’
‘No. I made that up. Do you really mean what you said? We go and see him now, at this hour?’
‘Yes.’
I rang Clay, woke him and filled him in. ‘I’m bringing him to your place,’ I said. ‘You have things to talk about.’
I drew up outside Clay’s house in Erskineville. Clay was standing in his pyjamas and dressing gown at the front gate waiting. Gary grabbed his duffel bag, seemed to think about shaking my hand, didn’t, and got out. I waved and drove off.
I waited a couple of days, making use of the 4WD to do a bit of carting. My daughter Megan had moved into a flat in Dee Why and I helped her to stock it with some furniture I didn’t need. Then I rang Clay and arranged to return the Pajero and the gear he’d lent me. I handed him the keys and dumped the rest on the floor of his office.
‘I drank the scotch,’ I said.
‘Of course. What do I owe you?’
‘I’ll invoice you. Your kid’s got a hard head-I bruised my knuckles. How’s it going with you two?’
‘Not bad. We’re talking. I even had lunch with Harriet the other day.’
‘Don’t tell me I’ve…’
He laughed. ‘No, but it all feels a hell of a lot better. I have to thank you, Cliff.’
‘Any flak from St James?’
He smiled. ‘Flak, eh? Still taking the piss. No, not a squeak. Is there anything dangerous about DTS, d’you reckon?’
‘Only to the bank balances of people silly enough to get into it.’
