Published: 25 Sep 2023

Alun arrived at his parent’s house a short time after the delivery of his belongs to find his father in the garage and obviously unhappy with the arrangements.

“So son you eventually decide to visit,” David says as Alun makes his approach.

“I have been busy with filming.”

“If you got yourself a proper job befitting your expensive education, you wouldn’t need to be so busy, or have to crowd my garage with your junk.”

Alun keeps to his quiet as arguing with his father never went well. In conversation David was like a bulldozer and ploughed over any discussion and if by chance he was losing, he would simply walk away.

“Alun,” Sylvia calls from the kitchen window.

“I’m on my way mum.”

“Go on, you better go and make your peace with your mother. We will talk further after dinner.”

Inside the house Alun finds his mother busy preparing the meal, he wraps his arms around her from behind as was his habit and gently rocks her side to side, “I missed you,” he softly says close to her ear.

“Your father isn’t in the best of mood so don’t provoke him.”

Alun backs away from his cuddle and spying a fresh batch of scones on the table he helps himself, “tell me when he is in a good mood – hot!” he says as the scone burns his lip.

“They are just out of the oven. There is fresh cream in the refrigerator and a new jar of strawberry jam in the cupboard.”

“What’s dad’s gripe this time? Is it me storing my gear in the garage?”

“In part but mostly because he was beaten for president at his club by Lenny Clark and you know how your father hates to lose at anything.”

“Oh that would sting; who is Lenny Clark?”

“He owns the box factory in Richmond and your father’s nemesis since he joined the club. Your father has been unbearable over losing for more than two weeks now, also storing your things in the garage has only made matters worse.”

“I thought you squared it with dad?”

“I thought so as well but there you go.”

As Sylvia speaks David enters into the kitchen, “I thought Jillian was coming with you?”

“She has been called back to work.”

“When are you going to marry the girl?” David asks while helping himself to the cooling scones.

“I have made the suggestion but she said she isn’t ready to settle down at the moment.”

“Ready! For Christ sake boy just do it. You have to be assertive, not ponce about like some Nancy boy. You need to prove to a woman like Jillian that you’ve got balls.”

“David,” Sylvia softly dampens.

“It’s alright mum, I’m used to it. Is Peter home?”

“He is in his room.”

“And tell him to turn that racket down,” David directs as Alun departs company.

It was easy to discover Peter was at home by the level of head banging music coming from his room. Alun loudly knocks.

“Alright mum, turning it down,” comes from beyond the closed door as the music lowers.

Alun opens the door, “It’s me,” he says.

“Come in Bro’;”

“What’s with all the noise?”

“To aggravate the old man, he hates my music.”

“I can see why he hates the music.”

“Alun you were always too conservative.”

“We are what we are – what’s the prob’ with the old man other than not getting the presidency to his dumb club and me storing my gear?”

“Again it’s you.”

“Why?”

“One of his mates discovered what your film is about.”

“So?”

“Isn’t it a gay role?”

“Oh!”

“He’s really working into a sweat over it.”

“Does my role in the film worry you?”

“It doesn’t worry me but you know the old man.”

“It is only acting Peter.”

“That is what I told him.”

“What did he say about the role?”

“Believe me, you don’t want to know.”

As Sylvia set the table for dinner Peter pokes his head around the dining room door, “I’ll be off,” he says.

“Dinner will be on the table in five minutes.”

“Sorry mum I have a date.”

“Why didn’t you tell me earlier,” Sylvia takes a deep disappointing breath but doesn’t follow through with her deepening anger.

“I didn’t know earlier – besides.”

“Besides what Peter?”

Peter laughs; “with dad in a mood, I’m off to somewhere more pleasant, like the lion enclosure at the zoo.” Without further Peter departs company.

It is obvious Sylvia wishes to approach Peter on his rudeness during Alun’s visit but Alun is quick to bring about peace.

“It doesn’t matter mum, Peter didn’t do it against me; I know him better than to do that.”

“Did I hear Peter’s car leaving?” David asks as he comes in from the yard and his precious prize tomato bushes. He places three large red specimens on the kitchen bench, “now that’s something Lenny Clark can’t do.”

“What is that dear?”

“Grow tomatoes like these.”

Sylvia delivers a serving dish to the dining table and returns for the vegetables, she ignores the tomato issue. “Peter said he has a date.”

“I hope it is a job interview,” David asserts.

The first course went with little conversation with only the occasional glance from father towards son. There were a number of generic questions from Sylvia about Alun’s work, which passed without comment from David, with Alun keeping his answers as simple as possible, while avoiding anything to do with the film’s genre.

“Are they feeding you well,” Sylvia asks, “you appear to have lost a little weight.”

“The meals are fine, possibly because I spend more time in the gym than usual as you have to look fit to play at being colonial, there were few fat diggers on the goldfields.”

At last David found his voice, “you wouldn’t need to waste your time in the gym is you had proper work.”

“Dad, what I do is proper work.”

David remains displeased with Alun’s possessions taking up part of his garage, “Why did you give up your apartment?” he asks.

“Keeping it going would be a waste of money, seeing I will be working away well into next year.”

“You do realise you won’t be coming back here to live after you have finished with the filming.”

“I do. You have made that quite clear on more than one occasion, besides once the film is complete, I’ll be more than capable of affording my own apartment.”

“David gives a discrediting chuckle, “it takes money and a proper job to buy property boy.”

“I do realise that,” Alun then out of frustration with his father relates something he had no intention saying and shares the value of his contract.”

David’s expression changes but he lacked any sign of pleasure, or pride towards Alun’s obvious success.

“Have you finished with your apartment?” Sylvia asks to place a divide between any further unpleasantness between father and son.

“Yes I handed in the keys on my over here.”

“If you are down until the weekend where will you be staying as I could make up your old bed.”

Alun throws his father a glance and smile, “thank you mum but I will stay with Jillian.”

“It wouldn’t be a problem as we don’t see much of you these days.”

“It has already been arranged and we are going out for dinner on Friday night with Vivien as it is her birthday, therefore staying with Jillian would be more practical.”

“Vivien Lang you say?”

“Yes that’s the one.”

David’s expression becomes smutty, “I always thought she was a dyke.”

“Not Viv’ I assure you,” Alun attempts to lower the tone away from the direction David’s insinuation was heading.

“I must admit she has nice legs, they go right up to her arse,” David laughs at his attempt at humour.

“David! Must we have that sort of talk at the meal table,” Sylvia curtly scalds.

Whatever it was that had stuck in David’s gut was now rising and with the meal finished and Alun helping his mother clear the table, David became vocal, “this part of yours, I’ve heard you are playing at being homosexual.”

Alun feels cornered with no other way out than to agree with his father’s assumption, “yes the main character is gay but it is only acting and doesn’t reflect on my character.”

“You do realise it will reflect, as you infer, on your family?”

“It isn’t porn dad, if you would like I could lend you a copy of the script and you would find it quite subtle.”

“I’m not happy boy; I’m already having snide remarks from those at the club.”

“What would you want me to do? I’ve signed a contract, besides I wouldn’t pull out for any reason.”

David displays further annoyance as he pushes back on his chair, then without answering his son he leaves the room.

“What do you think mum?”

“Alun I have to manage the narrow space between your father and your brother, now with this film I have one more difficulty, so I don’t have the luxury of opinion.

“I’m not gay mum.” Alun protests as he commences to stack the dishwasher.

Sylvia takes over the stacking, “leave it, you are not stacking it correctly.”

Alun stands away and allows his mother to finish the stacking.

“Your father isn’t saying you are homosexual but it is his reputation,” Sylvia explains.

“It’s always what dad thinks.”

“Alun it isn’t like that.”

“It is and always has been.”

Sylvia wished to say more, even give support towards Alun’s chosen profession but in doing so would undermine David’s obsession towards what he believed to be correct for his sons. She had often thought of leaving David but didn’t have enough courage and when it came to where she would go or what she could do, her mind was filled with fog. “Are you sure I can’t make up your room?” she asked more out of necessity to say something that didn’t relate to the developing situation between father and son.

“No I told Jillian I would be over around seven.”

“You better say goodbye to your father.”

“I will.”

“Don’t start an argument, or I will have to contend with it for the remainder of the day.”

“I’ll try not to,” Alun gives a cheeky chortle as he kisses his mother’s cheek, “see you soon,” he says.

“When?”

“I can’t really say when, as we start shooting in earnest in a couple of weeks. Possibly not until Christmas but I will call.”

“Be sure you do.”

Alun finds his father back in the garage. It is a double garage and half again, holding both his mother’s BMW and David’s more prestigious Lexus, with almost enough space for a third vehicle. Peter had to park his ageing Mazda on the street, not even permitted to park in the long drive as David often needed to attend club or business meetings without prior arrangement. Besides the Mazda had developed an oil drip and had previously stained the concrete driveway.

“I’ll be off then,” Alun calls from the open garage doorway.

“How long do you intend to leave you belongings here?”

“I was hoping until after filming and I get a new apartment.”

“When will that be?” David softly asks while his eyes remain fixated on the stacking of boxes.

“If all goes to schedule it will be about April next year.”

“Have you ever heard of storage facilities?”

“I have but they are expensive, would you pay for me?’

David ignores his son’s suggestion, “did you say goodbye to your mother?”

“Of course.”

“Righto’ I’ll be seeing you then.”

“I’ll be down for Christmas,” Alun says.

“Your mother and I will be travelling over Christmas but Peter will be home to look after the house.”

“Where will you be going?”

“That remains undecided; possibly we will take the van for a little fishing at the Barmah Forest up on the Murray River.”

“Mum doesn’t like fishing,” Alun recollects.

“I do.”

“Okay, I’ll be off then.” Alun repeats.

“As you said.”

Alun is in time to catch the Brighton train although his thoughts remain with his father, ‘you know if you weren’t family I could quite easily hate you,’ becomes though as he activates his MYKI card. There isn’t enough on the card, so he quickly tops up from his mobile and as he does a little voice in his head answers his previous thought, ‘father or not, I still could hate you.’

As Alun arrives at Jillian’s apartment he meets her returning from rehearsals. “Have you been waiting long?” She asks as they take the lift to the third floor.

“No I just arrived.”

“How were your parents?”

“Don’t ask.”

Once inside Jillian goes directly to the drinks cabinet, “was David at it about your acting?”

“He never stops and he made a comment about Vivien,” Alun relates with a cheeky smile while recalling David’s estimation of Jillian’s closest friend.

“What did he say?”

“He said he thought Viv’ is a dyke.”

Jillian laughs, “I hope you put him straight.”

“With dad that isn’t possible.”

“Drink?”

“Any Bundy?”

“I’m out of rum you finished it last time – I have scotch or gin, or that bottle of eggnog Wayne gave me last Christmas.”

“I’ll give it a miss.”

“I didn’t tell you earlier but David telephoned me last week. He said he heard about your part in the film and asked me to talk you out of continuing.”

There is caution in Alun’s tone as he gives an answer, “I hope you took my side.”

“I tried but you know David, he can be very persuasive. I said I would try; which I won’t.”

Alun give a frustrated laugh, “he asked when we are going to marry.

“He also made that suggestion to me and I said I’d think about that as well.”

“Are you still thinking?”

“You know my opinion on marriage. Your parents are a good reason not to marry and mine aren’t much better.” Jillian pours a scotch and without request she pours a second and passes it to Alun. “I also have bad news about our time together,” she says.

Alun places the drink aside without tasting.

“I will have to cancel Friday night, as I’ll be rehearsing for the new play and won’t get away until late. I also have further rehearsals over the weekend.”

“Oh! Will you be back here after Friday’s rehearsals?”

“I will but as I said it will be a late one.”

“What about the tickets for Saturday night to see The Termites.”

“I’ll have to cancel that as well; why not give Taylor a call, there isn’t any reason to waste the tickets,” Jillian suggests.

“They were complimentary anyway.”

“Even so they should be used and not wasted, besides you like their music.”

“I could give him a call but if you are busy all week, I may as well head back and prepare for the filming.”

“Sorry Alun, I was looking forward to you coming down and spending some time together, I should have time next month.”

“We will be filming for most of next month. It will be somewhere near Eden in New South Wales.”

“Why Eden?”

“We will be filming the sea voyage of Logan and Chance to Victoria.”

“You got seasick when we took the ferry to Tasmania last year, and it was an almost flat sea.”

“I’ll take pills this time.”

Early Saturday morning and Jillian’s mobile is jingling, she quickly answers not to disturb Alun, there is to be a pre rehearsals breakfast as one of the theatre’s directors was down from Sydney and had a early afternoon return flight, therefore time was tight. After hardly enough time for a shower, Jillian quickly scribbles a note for Alun as she departs, adding a second apology, she would stay overnight with a woman from the play so they could rehears together.

It is past ten before Alun meets the new day and finds Jillian’s apology. Once showered, he makes the suggested call to Taylor and after sharing pleasantries and a short account of the week so far, Alan suggests that night’s concert.

“Isn’t Jillian going?”

“She has been called in for some work function.”

“What concert is it?”

“The Termites,”

“I like them; yes I would like that, where should I pick you up?”

“I am at Jillian’s apartment in South Yarra, I gave you the address but the concert is at Festival Hall in North Melbourne so leave the car here and we can take public transport, also what are you doing for the rest of the week?”

“To be honest Alun, I’m ready to return to work, I can’t seem to concentrate on the script at home. Mum is a sweetie but she keeps trying to pile food into me.”

“It is downtime Taylor you should forget the film for a few days.”

“You have a better memory than me and any extra study time is well appreciated.”

“Then we may as well head back. Jillian will be elsewhere tonight so stay here and we could return to Buninyong tomorrow.”

After the concert and a late night pizza and a couple of beers the boys returned tired to Jillian’s apartment with Taylor singing a few bars of the Termite’s signature tune.

“Keep it down or you’ll have her cranky neighbour complaining,” Alun warns as the he opens the apartment door.

“Nice unit,” Taylor says as they enter then furthers his comment; “it is a little girly.”

“That is because it is a girl’s apartment.”

“Suppose, what time should we depart tomorrow?”

“No hurry – whenever.”

“I’m bushed,” Taylor admits.

“There is only one bedroom, so as you are the guest, you have the bed and I’ll sleep on the couch.”

Taylor is grinning.

“What’s got your funny Taylor?”

“You’ve read the script.”

“Of course but I don’t get your direction.”

“Then in true spirit of Logan and Chance we could share the bed.”

Alun is hesitant, “I think I’ll take the couch.”

“It’s your decision but I would like to take a shower first.”

“The bathroom is through there – fresh towels are in the side cupboard but if you don’t like plush pink, you will have to put up with them.”

While showering Taylor continues conversation through the open bathroom door then the conversation dies away, “are you still there Alun?”

There isn’t any answer.

Taylor finishes showering and after drying puts on his undershorts. Returning to the living room he discovers Alun is missing.

Taylor looks about, “Alun?” he calls.

“I’m in here.”

Taylor enters into the bedroom, “I thought you were going to sleep on the couch?”

“I changed my mind but don’t you dare tell anyone we shared the bed, especially Jillian.”

“Why would I? Head to feet okay?”

“It’s a big enough bed, I’m sure we can put enough distance between us to be considered socially acceptable.

Taylor pulls back the covers and slides between the sheets – “satin,” he comments on the royal blue sheets.

“I hate them. If you like I could try and find others,” Alun criticizes.

“It doesn’t matter; it will be a new experience.”

“Satin sheets and sharing a bed with another bloke, I guess they are both first for you,” Alun suggests.

“The satin sheets are.”

“So you have shared a bed with another fella’?”

“With my cousins during sleepovers.”

“I don’t have cousins in Australia.”

“You must have been lonely while growing up?”

“Not really, I never thought of it. On the way out tomorrow morning, I need to visit home for a few minutes, I promised mum I would come for lunch and forgot to call and cancel it.”

“Why not go for lunch and pick me up later?”

“Cancelling that thought, I think I’ll simply call; I’m not in the mood for another lecture from dad.”

“You said your old man is giving you a hard time.” Taylor recollects.

“That isn’t anything new and he is always pushing for Jillian and me to marry.”

“I know you have explained the situation between you and Jillian before but if she said yes, would you marry her?”

“A month ago, even a week ago, I would have jumped at the chance but now I’m not so sure.”

“Why so?”

“Firstly, would I be marrying only to prove my masculinity to my father and secondly as I have previously suggested I think our relationship is reaching its end.”

“I would say accepting a gay role in a film is a strange way to prove masculinity,” Taylor suggests.

“Possibly part of my reason for accepting the role was a push against dad’s need to control every moment of my existence.”

“Do you still have reservations about the role of Logan?”

“Not any more although I’m having strange emotional sensations.”

“In what way?”

“I can’t actually put them into words but the more I play Logan the more I feel I am Logan McGregor. Sometimes it is as if Logan is inside me and trying to surface.”

“Is that bad?”

“For the role no but I am remembering Heath Ledger and how it was reported he couldn’t come down from his part as the Joker.”

“Do you believe that is what killed Heath?” Taylor asks.

“It was said to be an accidental overdose but what brought on his use of drugs in the first instance.”

“You don’t use drugs,” Taylor’s decree is more hopeful than an understanding of Alun’s habits.

“No, not even headache pills and I’m not heading in that direction I assure you.”

“He was a good actor.” Taylor says.

“Who would that be?”

“Heath Ledger; you did know he was a good surfer as a kid.”

“Yes I did know.”

“Possibly you should talk to Simon about how you feel.”

“I reckon I can manage it and I don’t want you saying anything to Simon.”

“I would never do that Alun.”

Gary’s stories are about life for gay men in Australia’s past and present. Your emails to him are the only payment he receives. Email Gary to let him know you are reading: Conder 333 at Hotmail dot Com

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