EIGHTEEN

Day 4

Kilkenny Road

1.15 p.m. Wednesday, 28th October 1965

‘Dad, I got a job,’ Paul announced on his father’s arrival.

‘How?’ Cardilini put the files on the kitchen table and turned to Paul.

‘I applied, and I didn’t need to mention the charge,’ Paul wasn’t able to suppress a smile.

‘Okay. Where?’

‘Lakeway Drive-in.’

‘Oh.’ Images of the drive-in, summer nights, Paul as a child in the front between him and Betty. He pushed them from his mind.

‘It’s a job that I could keep doing once I go to the academy.’

‘You get paid at the academy,’ Cardilini reminded him.

‘Dad, I know what the pay is. What if I want a car?’

‘We’ve got a car,’ Cardilini said too gruffly as he felt a shift in the earth.

‘My own car.’

Cardilini paused for a moment, then shook his son’s hand.

‘That’s wonderful. So when do you start?’

‘Friday and Saturday nights. Then they’ll see how I go.’

‘I’m sure your bosses will be pleased.’

‘Yep. I’ll make sure they are.’

‘You tell ’em your old man’s a copper,’ Cardilini said and then felt stupid.

‘Dad, don’t be dumb.’

‘A job, fantastic,’ Cardilini replied but felt the opposite. He hadn’t realised how much Paul being at home or being angry at him was a grounding for him. He knew if he didn’t have Paul around he would happily drink himself to oblivion. He started towards the fridge and froze before turning back to Paul.

‘Yes. You wanted me out of the house and working,’ Paul said with a look of concern.

‘Did I?’

‘Dad?’

‘Maybe.’

‘They’re going to give me a uniform and a hat. Remember when we went with Mum, the people behind the counter?’ Paul asked.

‘Yep. Sharp uniform.’

‘Yeah. So what are you doing home?’

‘Just some homework,’ he pointed to the files.

‘Do you want some lunch?’

‘Lunch? What do you do for lunch?’

‘I make a sandwich. I’ll make you one.’

‘My stomach’s a little upset. I might miss today. You go ahead, I’ll take this into the lounge.’ Cardilini gave his son a pat on the back and took the files. He had an overwhelming desire to flail, to fly off the handle and storm to the pub. They could all go to hell.

‘I’ll make a cup of tea,’ Paul called down the passage.

Such a surge of emotion hit Cardilini that he thought he was going to cry. Taking a gulp of air he pushed at the feeling. He hadn’t been sober for this long in nearly a year. He sat and looked at the files as if reading them, but the words were blurring. I’m falling apart, he thought.

Captain Edmund was thorough. Every cadet had a file. Every file had the complete details of the cadet, even blood type. Edmund had written reports on each student every term. Both Lockheed and Carmody had a termination date on their file with the comment, ‘Failure to accept authority’.