CHAPTER 23
Bradford
“Susannah called and she’s running ten minutes late.” I slump onto the couch and stretch the kinks from my back. “Guess I can catch my breath for a moment.” To say I’m nervous would be an understatement.
I hear Bruno’s footsteps behind me and his big, furry forearms loop around my neck. “I’m sure it’s going to be fine,” he soothes. “You know, she might even agree to let him stay if she thinks everything’s OK.”
“That’s probably wishful thinking. But does the place look alright?”
“Baby, you’ve been running yourself ragged all morning. You’ve done everything you can and it looks perfect.”
I know I’ve gone overboard trying to make the apartment look cosy and welcoming. But maybe she’ll get a subliminal message and be more inclined to let me have my best friend back. If I’m being logical, though, I know it’s much more a matter of whether Brendan responds well to our session today.
I try to sigh gently, but a tiny grumble of frustration works its way out instead. “I just can’t stand not knowing. I mean, other than telling me Brendan’s improved, she's been playing her cards pretty close to her chest.”
When the doorbell rings, I hurry there so fast that I trip along the way. Jesus Christ, I need to be more bloody careful. I may have regained half the vision I lost when Jarrod put me in hospital, but the last thing my eye needs right now is more trauma.
“Hi, Bradford.” Susannah is all cheery. It’s a good sign. I’m not really paying attention to my own polite greeting. I’m too busy looking at my dog, who’s sitting next to her, thumping his tail against the ground. All I want is to throw my arms around him and bury my face in his fur, but I have to be careful not to overwhelm him.
The moment I crouch down, he launches himself at me. His tongue slathers madly all over my face. His excitement skyrockets as I hug his neck, and he turns his head, trying to play-bite my nose with his back teeth. I haven’t seen him this animated since he was a two-year-old rookie. I’m laughing my head off, toppling backwards onto my arse as he advances. When Susannah finally gets him to retreat, I’m left sitting there coated in loving doggie slobber. “Um, I think I’m gonna need to pack the baby wipes.”
“So, have you had a think about where you’d like to go today?” Susannah waits by the bathroom door as I wash off Brendan’s gift.
“Uh… Brendan really loves the cliff walk.” I know I’m pushing it. “Only as far as Tamarama, though.” Sinking my wet face into a towel, I wait nervously for her response. I need to show her we can conquer this situation. Brendan knows the challenging route down to the finest details.
“That might be a bit too far for him,” she says. “I also have to go to another client after this.”
Oh. That sounds promising. I mean, what would she do with my dog if she had to go and see someone else? She must be thinking of leaving him with me.
Bruno appears behind Susannah. “How about just doing the walk one way instead? You can call me when you get to Marks Park and I’ll drive over and drop you back here.”
Susannah seems happy with this. As she’s fussing with Brendan, I follow Bruno to the lounge to grab my backpack. His arse looks so big and sexy in his flimsy Nike trackpants, and I grope it just the way it’s been begging me to. “I love you, Harry, ” I whisper, cuddling up to his back and kissing him behind the ear. “Thank you for this.”
Bruno growls softly, wriggling his arse against my hand as I press my fingers inside his crack. “I’m sure you’ll make it up to me somehow.”
Brendan is on his best behaviour as I make my way down Bondi Road towards the beach. Not that he hasn’t always been the best dog ever, but he’s shifted into turbo right now. He’s super attentive, walking crisply, stopping precisely, firmly guiding me around any obstacles. He has no hesitation navigating me past some new construction work we stumble upon. He even predicts the sudden moves of some rowdy teenagers that come barrelling towards us. There's no way he could know about my extra needs with my eyesight being worse than usual. A grin works over my face as I allow myself to accept the most obvious reason: he’s putting on a performance for Susannah.
He knows exactly where we’re going as he whisks us past the park overlooking South Bondi, guides us up the sloping hill to the change rooms, then helps me climb the crowded, curving stairs to Notts Avenue. These steps require him to be on the ball every time we come here, as tourists charge down them with no regard for anyone else. Usually they spot Brendan and have to spring aside quickly. Occasionally, they’re just plain rude.
I’m dying to ask Susannah for feedback as Brendan fairly prances along past Bondi Icebergs, but I don’t want to push things. I also don’t want to push Brendan . I need to go easy on him, but I don’t want Susannah to get suspicious. I’m gonna be a little devious here.
Deliberately slowing my pace, I descend the stairs down the cliff face with a lot more care than usual. Why wouldn’t I? After all, my eyes are extra bad right now—of course she’d expect me to be lagging a bit. On top of this, I’m not in the kind of peak condition I was in before that bastard attacked me. With both these things in mind, Brendan can have a bit of respite. He loves this part of the walk best, anyway. The winding fenced path goes up and down and around the craggy rocks of Squid Bay as the sea frolics away to our left. It’s breathtakingly beautiful. My own picturesque slice of nature mere moments away from the tight urban sprawl I live in.
Next, it’s time to make the gradual ascent to the very top of Arin’s Point. I take my time; I have every reason to be cautious with the various highly-blurred joggers and impatient people scrambling to get around me and my blind arse. If anything, Brendan seems to want to crank it up. He’s staying in perfect sync with me, but I can feel his enthusiastic vibes shooting up through the harness. See? It’s me, not my dog, Susannah. I’m the one holding him back. He’s coping fine.
We stake our claim on a high point in Mark’s Park. The view here spans from Ben Buckler Point in North Bondi all the way down to Cliff’s Edge in Clovelly. To my eyes, these would normally be blurry built-up headlands jutting out into the ocean either side of me. Today, they’re just smudged brown fingers in a haze of deep blue.
Pulling out the picnic blanket, I set it up on the grass as Susannah calls Bruno. Before I sit down, I pour half my bottle of water into Brendan’s folding bowl. He laps it up with gusto, then sits primly and waits.
“He’s done well,” says Susannah. “I'm really pleased.” I know she’s not an idiot, but I’m hoping I chose the least conspicuous spots to take it down a notch during the walk.
As we sit there debriefing and surveying the vista, the ocean breezes waft over us. It’s cold, but the sun is smiling down as if it were summer. I can see the vague forms of people sitting nearby us, tossing morsels of food to the birds. At the moment, these little creatures look like black specks moving around, but I’ve been here often enough that the visual snapshots are firmly imprinted in my memory.
“We’ll need to make a time for next week,” says Susannah. I squint across to see her tapping at her phone. “Is Wednesday good for you?”
Oh, God. That’s nearly a week away. “Um… I know you’re busy, but can you bring him back again sooner?”
Susannah lowers her phone and turns her head my way. “Oh, no. He’s staying with you, of course.”
Well, spank my arse and call me Charlene. I’m so relieved I could hug her if I knew her better. My boy. I’m getting my boy back. I throw my arms around Brendan and he lunges at my face again, rolling with me on the blanket and covering me with sloppy kisses. Jesus, I’m glad I packed the wipes.
Bruno arrives then, calling out to us as he’s striding through the park with my picnic basket. “I brought food. You’re more than welcome to stay and eat with us, Susannah.”
“Yeah, you should. Bruno makes a mean sandwich.”
Susannah smiles and shakes her head. “I’d love to, but I’m already going to be late for my other client.”
“No worries. Next time, eh?” Bruno plops the basket beside me. “You stay here and I’ll be back after I drop them off.”
“Just Susannah.” I’m grinning like a twit. “Brendan's staying.”
As the two of them leave, Brendan sits there watching after them. I feel a pang of sorrow as I realise he’s spent weeks and weeks with Susannah. Of course he’s going to miss her. To my surprise, Brendan soon flops down, resting his head on my leg. As I pat him, I see all too clearly how worn out he is. Suddenly it dawns on me why he’s so exhausted, and I want to cry.
“He’s been trying his best in front of her. He knew this was his test, and he didn’t want to be away from you for another second.”
Mum is leaning back on her elbows next to me, her sandal-clad feet casually crossed. She’s wearing one of her flowery hippie dresses, and a huge sun hat obscures the upper half of her face.
“I can't tell you how relieved I am, Mum. I was so scared I’d never get him back.”
She looks over at me, tilting up the brim of her sunhat. A kind smile lights up her features. “Things we hold dear to our hearts often have a knack of finding their way home to us.”
Her simple wisdom never fails to shed a light exactly where I need it. “Well, you did, Mum. I don’t know how I would have made it through all this without you watching over me.”
“Bradford, you’ve always been my ray of sunshine. This chance to be around you again has been a blessing and I’ve cherished every moment.”
My chest tightens as I notice her use of tense. I don’t want her to say anything else. It’s something I can’t face hearing right now. Maybe I will never be ready.
A dark figure hops up to me. I squint sideways to see a magpie. It’s up so close I can make out its head cocking quizzically from left to right. Very carefully, I sit up and reach into the picnic basket. My hand lands on a soft square lump, and I pull it out to find half the loaf of seed bread I bought this morning. Slowly, I take out the crusty end sliver, pick off a small piece and place it on the ground next to the blanket. The bird doesn’t dash and grab, he swaggers over and picks it up. Gulping it straight down, he stares at me for more. Now he’s right here, I can see his colouring. He’s very young. So trusting. Untainted by the cruelty of the world.
One by one, I feed him tiny morsels. About halfway through, I place a piece on my hand and he calmly takes it. When the sliver of bread is all gone, he seems to understand there’s no more. I’d keep feeding him, but I don’t want to overdo it and make him sick. He does this kind of little thank-you dance, then off he hops towards some other people nearby.
“You always had a magical connection with animals, darling. I could see your compassion from the time you were a baby. You’d reach out from your stroller and pat the dogs you saw with such gentle reverence. It was a wonderful thing to watch.”
Mum’s shared similar observations with me before, of course, but never with this kind of detailed recollection. It’s touching to know that forty-eight years down the track she remembers these things so vividly.
Shrieks, swearing and aggressive human squawks ring though the air to my right. My head whips around and I see people throwing things at a small dark object. It’s the little magpie friend who just visited me. He’s not flying away. He doesn’t know any better. One of the human figures jumps up and runs towards him, stomping all over the place.
“NO! STOP!” I’m on my feet straight away, running and tripping over myself. As I approach, I see some feral young guy standing there with a girl sitting next to him. “Please leave the bird alone. He’s only a baby.”
“Mind your own fuckin’ business, dickwad,” snaps the girl, in a common fishwife tone.
The guy is straight up in my face. “Yeah, you heard her, faggot. ” He shoves me hard, but he’s underestimated my sturdiness and I don’t budge.
My heart is thundering. Steam is erupting from my ears. I may be panicking, but I’m seeing red.
I will not be helpless. I will not be helpless.
Drawing in the biggest mother of a breath I can, I steel myself. “Keep your hands off me and LEAVE THE BIRD ALONE!”
He takes a step forward, butting into my chest with his wiry frame. He’s taller than I am, but I can still smell his rancid breath. “Whatcha gonna do about it, faggot ?” He draws the last word out, wringing it for everything it’s worth.
“You have no idea… ” I growl.
“HEY! What do you think you’re doing?” Bruno’s voice booms from behind me on rapid approach. “Get the hell out of here!” The guy doesn’t budge. “You think I’m joking? FUCK OFF!”
With a scowl, the guy turns his head and spits on the ground. Taking his sweet time, he slinks off after the girl. When he glances back, Bruno charges forward several steps, making him scuttle faster. After he’s reached a safe distance, he swivels round to face Bruno again. “Fat cunt,” he snarls.
Behind him, I spot Mum, who kicks something that’s lying on the ground. The guy turns and scarpers like a scared rabbit, stacking it over whatever Mum’s laid in his path and landing on his hands and knees. With an impish grin, Mum holds both thumbs up to me. “I knew you could do it, darling,” she whispers, her sound reverberating in my mind as her image vanishes.