The club was falling apart and I’d lost the trombone but at least I still had Jimmy Budge. Jimmy and I liked the same TV programmes and read the same magazines. We shared the same taste in music, fashion and celebrities. What I liked, Jimmy liked. Our latest obsession was Maria Callas, who was basically Elizabeth Taylor with the voice of an angel. She was not only beautiful and talented but she was also tragic and formerly plump. Her heart-breaking affair with Aristotle Onassis fascinated me. So did her wealth and glamour. It was Maria Callas who inspired me to get to work on my vocal cords. Jimmy said the Songbird of the South would be good to go in six months. I just needed to master the warble.
It was Sunday night and I was in the kitchen warbling to my mother while she fried sausages when Dad came in and announced we were moving. He’d landed the sports editor’s job at the Hobart Star. Trevor Bland had recently transferred to the paper and put a word in.
‘It’ll do the family the world of good.’ Dad had the confident grin of at least four Tickworth lagers.
‘But Carmel and Julian will have to change schools.’ Mum turned the hotplate off and placed a hand on my forearm. ‘All their friends are here.’
‘Hobart’s the state capital. They’ll make new friends.’ Dad didn’t care that he made no sense. ‘It’s a step up the ladder. I’ll be making more money.’
‘I don’t know, Jim. It’s all so sudden.’
‘Too late now. The deal’s done.’ He gave Mum a hard look. It was like an accusation. ‘I thought you’d be pleased. We’ll be closer to John.’
John was already living in Hobart where he was a first-year student at Wattle University. He had a room in the university dormitories.
‘But you’ve got two other children.’
‘You don’t think I’ve thought of that?’ Dad smiled triumphantly. ‘Hobart’s got a brilliant women’s cricket team.’
That was it. The family was moving. We had two weeks to say our goodbyes and prepare for a new life on the other side of the island. Dad put our house on the market and went on ahead to start the job and find us somewhere new to live.
Everything I knew about Hobart had come from school lessons and TV. It had Tasmania’s state government and Mount Wellington. It also had a floral clock and a harbour big enough for a luxury liner and fleet of fishing trawlers. The Abracadabra television studio was based in Hobart along with at least five radio stations. It was home to the state’s politicians and celebrities. Dick Dingle lived in a big fancy mansion in Battery Point.
I couldn’t imagine leaving Ulverston, or, more to the point, I couldn’t imagine life without Jimmy Budge. My mind had flashed to him when Dad made his announcement. I would’ve immediately dashed over to the Budge house but Jimmy wasn’t there. His father had taken him to Devonport for the sheep trials. The next time I’d see him would be Tuesday morning for the paper round.
Monday was almost unbearable. I trudged around the grounds at St Kevin’s on my own feeling numb. The school didn’t have the smart brick buildings of Pendergast or the swimming pool of a state school but I knew every student and teacher by name. I was passing the old half-buried white tyres when Ralph Waters called out, ‘Hey, Four-Eyes!’ It was a friendly enough greeting and I smiled. I’d started school with Ralph and watched him grow from delinquent into full-fledged thug. Ralph had never thumped me despite his flair for violence. Our early discussion about the Stromboli mound had established a code of honour between us. I watched him rap his knuckles on the back of Thomas Owen’s head and realised I’d miss him. I’d miss Thomas, too. He’d joined the band and taken up the trombone after I’d been given my marching orders. The repaired instrument bore two small dents on the metal arm but Thomas didn’t seem to mind.
By Tuesday morning, I was a bag of nerves. I looked over at Jimmy rolling papers and felt the weight of something hard and heavy in my chest.
‘Jimmy, we’re going to Hobart.’ I kept my face down and shoved rolled papers into my saddlebag.
‘Uh-huh.’ Jimmy kept rolling.
‘I mean we’re leaving Ulverston.’ I looked at him.
‘For good, like?’ Jimmy stopped rolling. He looked at me, sitting very still.
I felt a trickle of sweat under one of my armpits. It was hot in the office. My jaw stiffened and my mouth flooded with saliva. I felt like being sick. ‘Dad’s got a new job.’
‘In Hobart?’
‘He says Hobart’s good for his career, and what’s good for his career is good for the family. It’s a career move. He’ll make more money.’
‘What about your mum? She’s got a good job at Tassie Textiles.’
‘She says Dad’s having a mid-life crisis, and what’s a crisis for him is a crisis for the family.’
‘But your father could find another job in Ulverston. There’s always the Wool Board. Dad says they get paid a whack at the Wool Board. It’s criminal how much they make off the sheep’s back.’
‘Dad’s already gone to Hobart to sort out a new house.’
‘When are you leaving?’
‘In thirteen days.’ My voice was a whisper. ‘You going to the club after school?’
Jimmy looked down at the papers. He took a long time to answer. ‘Nah, can’t today. I’m helping Dad with the pigeons.’
I realised then that he was very upset. Jimmy never said no.
Something rearranged itself inside my chest. It felt like a heavy stone tied to a piece of string. It swung painfully against my ribs.