CHASING LIFE Read online

  When the lawyer handed him Julia’s letter, Dave immediately started reading:

  I’m in a grave state. The pain is incredible, and at times I feel I can’t see the end to it. I don’t know how long I can tolerate this. It’s my choice to pass away at home if nothing else can be done, and I suspect it will be soon. But I feel fine with the decision. I’m not afraid.

  Dave, no woman could wish for more from a partner like you. I wrote this in case I didn’t get the chance to tell you in person. I’m sorry you won’t have me around to poke fun at you. I’m sorry I won’t get to see your face first thing in the morning. I’m sorry I couldn’t give you a child, and I’m sorry our future was cut so short. You are the most loving man I have ever met and I regret nothing.

  You did everything right. I know you punish yourself, but you did all you could. It’s because of you that I fought so hard. I beg you to find peace in your life and strength to move on. Live your life, fall in love again and find happiness within you. I love you dearly.

  With my eternal love, Julia.

  Dave broke down and cried in front of the stranger. The lawyer knew of the contents of the letter—she was obliged to read it. She tried to console the grieving man, placing a hand on Dave’s shoulder.

  ‘Are we done?’ Dave asked abruptly, shaking off the woman’s hand. He took control of himself, pretending as if nothing had happened. He didn’t want a lawyer’s pity and felt suffocated in that room crammed with stately furniture and old books. He couldn’t stand being in there a minute longer.

  The lawyer, slightly perturbed, fussed a little over some papers. ‘I have sent the other letter to Julia’s parents,’ she said. ‘There is nothing else left to do. I wish you all the best. If you need anything, we are at your disposal.’ Dave apologised and excused himself before the woman finished talking.

  Julia’s parents dropped the lawsuit against him. Dave never knew what she’d written to them and he never heard from them again. He knew all too well what they were going through and felt sorry for them.

  Chapter 4

  Summer heat bore down on Melbournians with another day of searing record-setting temperatures. It had been five straight days of forty-plus degrees. The bottom end of Australia burned while the top end flooded. Dave watched a news anchor announce the day’s weather and cringed. It wouldn’t just be a hot day; it would be hell. Working in a factory with a corrugated iron roof was no fun. Inside, fans buzzed overhead but gave more noise than reprieve. Temperatures reached fifty degrees when machinery peaked at full production.

  Why bother with the shirt and tie? he asked himself while getting dressed. Sweat had usually saturated his collar by the time he sat down to switch on his computer. Perhaps it was the legacy of a younger Dave who believed in upholding professionalism at all times, a habit of which his blue-collar parents were extremely proud. That young man, however, had nothing in common with the Dave of the present. Why do it? Why stick with this job? An accounting degree and ten years of experience were solid qualifications for moving on to something else. How had he ended up working in a cardboard factory for so long with a prick of a boss too tight to buy even one air conditioner? Originally the job was meant to be temporary before he would start his own business. Then Julia got sick.

  It was a routine he hated, but at least it kept his mind occupied. Every day was just like the one before: wake up, have breakfast, drive an hour to work, put up with a whiny boss, complain about the job, go home and do it all over again the following day. When Julia was alive, he’d come home and tell her all about the day’s frustrations. Most of the time, she was supportive, but sometimes when she’d had enough they would get into an argument. ‘Leave!’ she would tell him. ‘I’m tired of listening to your whining. You’re just scared of going out on your own.’

  She was right, of course: he was scared of starting his own business, even though it was what he wanted. He’d grown too comfortable, and running his own business meant that all the responsibility would fall on him.

  Nowadays the only socialising he did outside of work was with Mike and Amy, but catching up once a week for an hour or so was all they could ever seem to manage. Enjoying a conversation over a weekend coffee at Café Trieste was a ritual of theirs. It was Monday morning, however and there were five workdays to get through before then.

  Massive factory doors on rollers screeched open to allow trucks in for order pickups and deliveries of raw materials. Dave parked his car in its usual spot and placed a cover over the steering wheel so that it wouldn’t store all the heat from the afternoon sun and burn his hands when he drove home. He allowed himself a moment in front of the air-conditioning vents before turning off the ignition. As soon as he opened the car door, hot air engulfed him. Sweat marks formed under his armpits before he reached the factory doors. It was an urban desert.

  Six workers manned the machines on the floor. Dave worked inside the office with his boss, Norman, who was out screaming at the workers as usual. The noisy building was oppressive, and it wasn’t due only to the weather and the smell of greasy machinery. Orders had been delayed due to equipment failure, and a backlog of work meant that everyone was doing overtime. From the looks on the workers’ faces, Dave could tell that his boss Norman had been riding them all morning.

  The employees were a strange collection of characters, but Dave didn’t mind them. They all got along well and were united by their hatred of the factory boss, but Dave was an exception in that he made an effort to be polite. He always used to say that you might as well try to get along with someone you end up spending more time with than your own wife. He scurried toward his office with his head down, ready once again to lose himself in his work.

  Cardboard cutters and presses buzzed while Dave made his way around the safety markers. When each worker called out to him, he’d nod or wave in return. One of the employees, Brian, a young guy with a square jaw and a famously short fuse, always came up to him cheerfully. He’d been a frequent visitor to the hospital while Julia was sick and had cried when he heard that she had died. Dave gave him a thumbs-up and forced a smile when he saw him, then kept going.

  ‘Dave!’ Brian called. Dave turned around to see Brian gesturing for a smoke break. Dave pointed to his watch, suggesting later that morning. He didn’t like his smoking habit, but it seemed to have stuck solid after he’d picked it up while Julia was sick. Now, he smoked because there was nothing better to do.

  In his office, Dave sat down on his squeaky chair while wiping the sweat off his forehead. It was a furnace in there. He dreamed of one day walking inside and finding the air chilled. But constantly hounding his skinflint boss to invest in air conditioning just didn’t work. Somehow Dave didn’t see anything ever changing in this place. He switched on the computer and delved straight into his emails.

  ‘Don’t give me lip, you smart-arse. Just get it working!’ he heard Norman say to one of the employees. Dave couldn’t see who it was but guessed it was Brian, who baited Norman any chance he got just to make a point. Just as Dave was clicking on his Outlook icon, he looked up. Through his office window he saw Norman facing Brian on the factory floor, both of them yelling and pointing fingers at each other. Then a projectile hit the heavy man straight in the head. Dave quickly walked over to investigate and saw the other employees rush to intervene. Norman, a bald little man with a fat chin and thick moustache, was furious.

  ‘Get the hell out of my factory. You’re fired!’ he screamed at Brian. His face was covered in black grease from the rag that Brian had thrown. Three other employees stood between the two men to prevent them from coming to blows.

  ‘Fuck you and your factory,’ Brian shouted. ‘You fix the damn machine. I’m done.’

  ‘Wait, guys!’ Dave said, trying to calm the situation.

  ‘Go back to work!’ Norman shouted. ‘Everyone back to the machines. We have work to do. And you,’ he pointed to Brian, ‘keep walking.’ He would not have been so brave had it not been for the three men in be
tween him and Brian.

  ‘Fuck you!’ Brian replied, giving him the finger and making his way toward a locker near the roller doors.

  ‘Wait, Brian!’ Dave ran after him. Brian grabbed his gear, a lunchbox and towel and walked outside the factory.

  ‘Let’s have a smoke,’ Brian said. He fished out a cigarette and handed Dave one. It was still scorching hot, but they found shade under a carport.

  ‘What happened?’ Dave asked. He was surprised that Brian was so calm after just being fired. He was even smiling.

  ‘The machine needed greasing. As you know, it’s way overdue for maintenance. Then that prick comes up behind me and starts yelling, telling me he’s losing money every minute it’s down and all that shit. But if I don’t grease the fucking thing, the bearings will grind down and the engine will seize. He can see what I’m doing, but he pushes me on purpose, you know? Just wants me to arc up so he has an excuse to get rid of me. I’m doing him a favour, and the arsehole calls me lazy.’ He took a drag and exhaled.

  ‘So why did you give him the excuse?’ Dave asked, perplexed.

  ‘Fuck him! I’m finished with this job, and him.’

  ‘Let me have a word with him. Go home and cool off. I’ll see what I can do.’ Dave didn’t want to lose his workmate, who was good company. Their relationship was a taste of normality that he’d learned to count on.

  ‘What for, Dave? For this shithole? Look at us, man,’ Brian opened his palms and looked up, speaking with a calm desperation, ‘We’re melting in that tin can. It’s fifty degrees and that cunt won’t spend a cent for fucking air-con. Screw it, mate. I’m done. It’s just what I needed. Now I don’t have a choice but to leave.’ Brian seemed genuinely satisfied with the outcome. He looked at Dave in the eyes and placed a hand on his shoulder like a good friend would. ‘You should go too. You’re better than this.’

  ‘I don’t know about that. Too many bills to pay,’ Dave said, shaking his head in surprised admiration for his friend.

  ‘Yeah, you’re not the only one, and you’ll always have bills to pay. You’ve gotta grow some balls and make a choice. Otherwise you’ll end up like him.’ Brian jerked his head toward the factory.

  Dave didn’t have a reply. He just nodded, his usual response. The two men finished their cigarettes and shook hands.

  ‘Take care, Brian. Keep in touch,’ he said.

  ‘You too, mate. Look after yourself, okay?’ Brian squeezed his hand and Dave smiled. Brian never asked him much about his personal life. He didn’t pry about Julia, and Dave appreciated it. When he just needed company, Brian was there.

  Walking back inside the factory, Dave already missed the man who had told Norman to fuck off. The thought put a smile on his face. The din of machinery picked up again, and another worker was unsuccessfully trying to get Brian’s machine going. At his desk, Dave stared at his monitor. Distracted, he placed his elbows on the desk and rubbed his chin. A small fan hummed, recirculating the hot air, and flicking the corners of papers piled on his desk.

  It’s boiling in here, he thought, loosening his tie. He couldn’t stop thinking about Brian’s act of defiance, which excited him. Brian hadn’t really done it on impulse. He took calculated risks. He’d been in this situation with Norman many times before. Even though he did have a temper, he knew when to control it. Brian had had enough, and he did something about it.

  What about me? Dave wondered. Why am I still working my arse off for that prick? Brian was right: he was better than this. Yes, he had let him come back to his job after going missing in action toward the end of Julia’s illness. But it hadn’t been out of kindness or understanding: he’d simply been too lazy and tight to find and train someone else for Dave’s job. Since returning, he’d kept plugging away. No pay raise for three years, not even a cent. Bills would always need to be paid. His life had been in a holding pattern for so long: he hadn’t taken one day of holiday or been out with a woman. He’d become a social recluse, a hermit.

  Norman’s renewed yelling snapped Dave out of his thoughts. The poor guy being berated was working frantically on the machine Brian had been trying to fix. Dave stood up and watched. He turned his head to the computer monitor, looked at the monotonous work he suddenly could not face doing any more of, and then looked back at the factory floor. He sat down at his desk and started typing. Five minutes later, he took a printout of what he’d typed and walked out to where Norman was still carrying on. Dave couldn’t stand the rank smell of his sweat.

  ‘What’s this?’ he demanded as Dave approached.

  ‘My resignation.’ Dave handed him the paper.

  ‘What?’ he was stunned, his mouth half open.

  Dave turned on his heel and walked off toward the exit with a grin on his face.

  ‘You can’t leave without giving two weeks’ notice. It’s in your contract. I’ll make sure you don’t get your last pay check! You hear me?’ he shouted. The other employees stood around watching, all of them equally shocked and smiling at what had unfolded in one morning. They didn’t know that Dave had it in him—and neither did Dave.

  ‘Keep it. Maybe you can buy an air-conditioner,’ Dave called out, waving his hand at him without looking back.

  Chapter 5

  That autumn, three friends sat at a table in a busy restaurant. The European atmosphere of Café Trieste and its staff of beautiful coffee snobs was an irresistible combination to Melbourne’s coffee connoisseurs. Seats in the café were scarce and grudgingly relinquished, so Dave, Mike and Amy were lucky to have their usual table. The big man, Mike sat unusually quiet. The feisty Amy kept stealing looks at Dave, who played nonchalant, avoiding their gazes. It wasn’t just any ordinary get-together, after all. One of the trio was leaving the group, and their solemn expressions reflected that fact. A waitress soon delivered a strong latte, a three-quarter latte and a short macchiato.

  ‘You’ll miss this, you know.’ Mike’s deep voice was the first to break the silence.

  ‘Yeah, I’ll miss it the most, not you two.’ Dave forced a smile. He stared at the thick creamy swirl of milk, it looked as though he was trying to memorise it.

  ‘Thanks. We love you too,’ Mike replied sarcastically. ‘While you’re being served slops in some dodgy café, think of us enjoying ours here. Look at him,’ Mike said, pointing to the stiff-necked barista. ‘The man is a fucking Nazi, but he makes a great brew.’ He ripped open a packet of sugar and stirred with care. Amy hadn’t spoken a word. She looked as though she had something on her mind and was waiting for the right moment. Dave knew that he probably wouldn’t like it and avoided her gaze.

  Amy was the one person alive who knew Dave better than he knew himself. Much earlier in life, their friendship had briefly turned into a relationship before returning to a friendship. Neither knew why the short-lived romance had fizzled. Perhaps it was simply youth; perhaps friendship was more comfortable. Eventually Amy found a partner, and so did Dave. Over time their friendship and loyalty grew stronger to the point where they could say virtually anything to one another.

  ‘Look how thick the cream is,’ Mike said with awe, resting his chin on the table so he could be at eye level with his drink. ‘The sugar doesn’t even drop down. How does that shovelhead do it?’

  ‘Get over it and just drink the fucking thing, will you?’ Amy snapped.

  ‘All right, take it easy.’ The big man sank down in his chair like a child who’d just been told to stop playing with his food. He sulkily started fiddling with his mobile.

  ‘I just don’t understand why you had to sell everything,’ Amy ignored Mike’s sulking and looked at Dave instead. He could see the sadness in her eyes.

  ‘I need a clean start, Amy,’ he said gently.

  ‘I know that,’ Amy said, looking down at the table, ‘and I’m all for your going away for a while, but why a one-way ticket?’

  ‘Because I don’t know how long I’ll need.’

  ‘What do you need? Why make such a drastic decision?’ she as
ked.

  ‘I don’t really know, to be honest,’ Dave said, shrugging. ‘I just know that life is passing me by and I don’t know what to do. Maybe if I’m in a position where I’m forced to do something, well, something might happen,’ he finished. His cryptic answer was met with dumbfounded looks.

  ‘You’re not doing this because of Julia, are you?’ Mike looked up momentarily before his eyes drifted back to his mobile phone.

  ‘No, Mike, it’s not because of her,’ Dave said, annoyed at his friend’s lack of tact. ‘I should have done this a long time ago. I had a crappy job and debts I could never clear unless I sold the house.’

  ‘You have some cash now, you’ve got no real plan for this trip, and we don’t even know when you’re coming back. It’s not rational, and this is coming from me, queen of the irrational. Tell him will you?’ Amy slapped Mike on the thigh and frowned at his toying with the phone.

  ‘I did. He doesn’t listen.’ Mike put the phone away and gave his full attention.

  ‘I know you two care about me,’ Dave remarked, ‘and I love you for it. You’ve been so supportive throughout this whole thing. But I have to find some perspective on my life now. I’m clearing all the clutter, and with all my debts paid, I’ve got about twenty grand left. It’s not much but it’s a fresh start, you see? And believe me, I won’t be wasting that money. It means a lot more to me than you think.’ Dave’s effort at enthusiasm was received with scepticism. What he didn’t tell them was that he was planning on opening an Accounting practice one day. It was what Julia also wanted and it was their money. It would always remind him of her.

  ‘It’s devastating to lose a partner,’ Amy said, playing the protective older sister, ‘and you’ve been doing so well already. You’ll even find someone else one day. Just don’t rush from one extreme to another.’ She shied away as if realizing she’d overstepped a sensitive boundary.