Read Death in Brunswick for Free Online Page B

living over here and fuck off back to your sister—OK?’
    â€˜Jesus, Dave, would you really come down there if…’
    â€˜Yeah, but only if you really get in trouble though, Carl. Just take it easy! I don’t know, you’re like a chook in a thunderstorm. Now piss off, old boy, I have to go to work soon, and June’ll be home in a cunt of a mood after her mum’s, and you know how she likes you!’
    Dave, carrying the baby, put his heavy arm about Carl’s shoulder and led him out to the gate. It was getting hot.
    â€˜See you, Dave. Listen, thanks. I know I’m a bit…’
    â€˜Go on, mate,’ said Dave gently. ‘Just take it easy and I’ll see you soon.’
    Carl walked away with Charlie Parker’s alto spinning in his head. Good old Dave.
    *
    Dave watched Carl’s spindly figure recede into the heat haze. Shaking his head, he went inside, returning with a rug. He lay down in the sun with the baby. Soon he was dozing.
    He was wakened by the crash of the front gate. His two little boys ran in, followed by his wife.
    â€˜Hi, Dad! Look at what Nanna gave us.’
    They were both brandishing video games.
    â€˜Hey! Fantastic, kids!’
    â€˜Can we play with them now, Dad? Please?’
    â€˜Yeah, go on, boys.’
    And they bolted inside. He looked lazily at his wife, who was standing over him. She was a tall stooping woman, in a T-shirt and grubby cotton pants. Her temples were shaven and her short hair was dyed orange. She had a badge over one sagging breast: ‘Dead Men Don’t Rape!’ She peered at him shortsightedly.
    â€˜God, Dave! Look at this front yard! I asked you to clean it up.’
    â€˜Ah, sorry, babe. I had a bit of a snooze…’
    â€˜And look at Leon, will you! Christ, Dave!’
    The baby had rabbit shit smeared over its face. She snatched it up, wiped it with the edge of her T-shirt, and began suckling it.
    â€˜And I didn’t want the boys to start playing with those rotten games till we had at least had a discussion. They’re so violent, those games. I couldn’t stop Mum buying them—you know what she’s like. Those boys—they’re getting so—so masculine and you just don’t help!’
    She stamped her foot. The rabbits scattered.
    Dave turned over onto his stomach. Watching his wife breastfeeding always turned him on and the sun was warming his groin. But this was not the time.
    â€˜Yeah, well, sorry, babe. Listen, go and put the kettle on. I have to go to work soon.’
    â€˜Oh, Dave!’
    She turned and marched angrily into the house.
    Dave stretched and looked at his watch. He sighed and got up. His size eleven working boots and socks were on the front verandah. Putting them on, he clumped into the house. Zaps and whistles came from the front room. He hesitated and went on. There was no time, but he just loved video games.
    Going into the kitchen, he found his wife holding the baby with one hand and making the tea with the other. He held the pot for her while passing his hand over her buttocks. There was a big bulge in the front of his jeans.
    â€˜Just piss off, Dave!’
    She fended him off with the baby. It started to cry.
    â€˜Now look at what you’ve done! And I’ve told you not to wear your working boots in the house. What time are you coming home, anyway?’
    â€˜About six, I s’pose,’ said Dave. ‘I thought I might go to the pub for a while.’
    â€˜Don’t you dare. This is Friday. You know I’ve got my course on Fridays. You’ll have to feed the kids.’
    â€˜Oh yeah, OK, what course is that? I forget.’
    â€˜Assertiveness Training. Jesus, Dave, you know that. Boys! Boys! Turn that down!’
    She bustled into the front room.
    Dave followed, slowly sipping his tea. He heard cries of ‘Oh Mum!’ as the video was stilled.
    â€˜Now go outside and play.’
    The boys clattered out. He