Brothers & Sisters - Charlotte Wood [92]
‘Cazzo! This is not a civilised hour to crawl out of bed, you lazy shit!’
Rachel’s eyebrows arched and her mouth fell open—but she said nothing.
Matthew, who was peering into the fridge searching for the orange juice, swung around. ‘What the fuck’s wrong with you?’
Rachel came and stood beside Saverio, placing her hand on his shoulder. He wanted to shrug it off.
‘Matty, we’ve just heard that your uncle Leo has died.’
There was a moment of incomprehension and then Matthew sheepishly hung his head. ‘I’m sorry, Dad.’
Saverio couldn’t speak. He felt wretched. He wasn’t sorry that his brother was dead, he was just feeling relief. It was over.
In the end Rachel did not fly up north with him. She had been on higher duties since the beginning of the year, taking over the management of her unit from Gloria, who was on long-service leave. The extra money had been useful, allowed them to pay Matthew’s university fees upfront, but it had meant Rachel working longer hours, bringing home work on the weekends and having to fly regularly to Canberra to assist the minister while parliament was sitting. Saverio felt as if he had hardly seen her over the last month; she had worked late every night organising an international conference on industrial relations. In response to his complaints she had booked a four-day retreat for them at Mount Hotham after the conference. Saverio was a keen skier but it was years since they had visited the snow. On the night they’d heard the news about Leo, she had come into the bedroom and announced that she was going to cancel the retreat.
‘Why?’
‘I’m sorry, darling, I can’t go to both Leo’s funeral and the snow. I just don’t have the time.’
‘I want to go to Mount Hotham with you.’ He beckoned her over and pulled her onto the bed. Her hand was greasy from lotion she’d been rubbing into her arms. ‘I really want this holiday. You don’t have to come to the funeral. I just want to bury him, say my goodbyes and that’s it. I’d rather go alone.’
Her eyes were searching his face. She didn’t believe him. Or didn’t want to believe him. ‘I think I should be there.’
‘Oh, for God’s sake,’ he groaned. ‘As if Leo would have given a fuck if you were there or not.’
Her hand slipped out of his. Her eyes were cold, distant.
‘More than anything,’ he continued, lowering his voice, introducing a note of pleading, ‘I want to be away with you, just you. That’s what I’m going to need after the funeral.’
She gave no answer, just kissed him on the forehead and went back into the ensuite. In the mirror he watched her finish applying her creams, watched her floss and brush her teeth, grinned as she slid the door shut to take a pee, enjoying as he always did the fact that even after so many years she could still be shy with him. He’d also caught the hint of relief in her expression. She would have willingly come to say her farewell to Leo. He had always made her laugh. But Saverio knew she would have been dreading the idea of spending time with any of Leo’s old friends.
As the plane began its descent into Coolangatta, Saverio took out his earphones and, ignoring the sleeping man next to him, looked down at the splendour of the Pacific and the ugly town thrusting out of the lush green landscape. Matthew had been rendered almost dumb by the news of his uncle’s death—not from any personal shock or grief, for he had very few memories of Leo, but rather out of fear of having to communicate somehow with a supposedly mourning father. He had created a playlist on Saverio’s MP3 player filled with uncomplicated rock and roll from the late seventies and early eighties. A tinny whisper of ‘Brass in Pocket’ still seeped softly from the earphones and an unsmiling stewardess leaned over to scold him.
‘Please turn it off, sir, we are about to land.’ Saverio settled back