Bill Rules (9 page)

Although Bill and Mat had discussed what would happen next, this was not something that could be planned in detail. So much depended on the undependable and unpredictable Troy. When they walked into the O'Connell kitchen, Troy was not there. He was nowhere in the house. Bill panicked. He ran outside calling for his dad. ‘Dad! Dad!' There was fear in Bill's voice. An answer came from out of the dark. ‘Over here, mate. What's up?'

Troy O'Connell was standing in the old garage. A bare light bulb hanging from the ceiling lit up the crammed interior. There were some old pieces
of furniture left behind by previous tenants. There was not enough space to park a car, so Pam had used the remaining area to store a lot of her own pieces of unused furniture and some tea-chests packed with other belongings. Bill saw that his dad was in the process of shifting the chests out of the garage.

‘Give us a hand, you two,' said Troy.

‘What are you doing, Dad?' asked Bill.

‘Just making room in here for some of my own things,' said Troy.

‘What things? We have all your stuff. We've kept it every move,' said Bill. ‘It's all inside the house.'

‘Questions, questions,' said Troy. ‘How about just doing what I ask for once?'

A quiet anger Bill had never known built up inside him. His father was lying. His father was brushing off Bill's own reasonable question. His father was even expecting Bill and Mat to help him with his lies and plans. These boxes were being moved out to make room for stolen goods.

‘No,' said Bill to his dad.

Troy was bent over a crate, waiting for Bill to pick
up the other end. He swung round and stood straight. ‘What did you say?'

‘I said no.' Bill stood as tall as he could.

Troy's lip curled in a furious and cold way. He stood over Bill and pointed into the darkness of the garden. ‘Stay here, Mat. Come out here, Bill. I have something to say to you.'

Bill saw fear in Mat's eyes. She might have known an awful lot of people in her safe little world, but someone like Troy O'Connell was a new type of person. Bill was not going to leave her alone. Nor was he going to agree to going out into the dark with his dad. He needed a witness for what he was about to say. ‘No. I'm not going outside. I have something to say to you,' said Bill. ‘You are in danger.'

Troy laughed angrily. ‘You've got to be dreaming! In danger from you?'

‘From the police,' said Bill.

‘What do you mean?' Troy tried to sound casual, but there was worry in his voice.

‘I know you're planning to receive stolen goods. I've traced your supplier and informed the police. At this point, they don't know you're involved.' Troy sat
down on one of the tea-chests. ‘If you go along with my plan, you won't get into trouble.'

‘You are one deluded kid!' said Troy. The little muscles under his eyes were twitching like someone about to lose control. ‘You and this little girl, off in your world of make-believe. What on earth have you two cooked up?'

Once again, Troy's method of passing the blame, of making others feel guilty, made Bill recover the intensity of his anger.

‘It's you who has cooked up something,' said Bill. ‘And it's poisonous. If it arrives tomorrow, you will be back in jail for a long, long time and you'll never see me and Mum again. That's a promise I will keep.'

Troy looked astonished. Still, he pressed to check Bill's information. ‘And how have you come up with this information, Sherlock?'

‘I overheard you talking to Maggot,' said Bill. ‘It didn't take much more investigating. Crime is a stupid business. And so are lies.'

The mention of Maggot's name made Troy go pale. ‘So you heard me talking to a friend and you have jumped to conclusions. What are you going to do now?'

‘First off, I'm telling Mat to go home. Go Mat,' said Bill. ‘Now.'

‘But...' said Mat, looking defiant.

‘Go on,' said Bill. ‘Dad and I are going to have a talk. If anything happens, you know what to tell people.'

‘Alright,' said Mat. She realised Bill was protecting both her and himself. She ran out of the garage and headed for home.

Bill was on his own. His father had never hit Bill in his life, but maybe Troy might hurt him now that he felt threatened and cornered. Bill had to risk it. He had to finish this sad business. His father was silent, waiting to hear what Bill had to say next.

‘Your only hope is to leave for interstate now. If you do that, then you can't be linked with the robbery, even if Maggot tries to dob you in. I'll speak up for you.'

‘And your mum? I have a right to be with my wife, you know,' said Troy.

‘You will tell Mum you have to sort yourself out. That's the truth. You will go and get yourself some sort of training so you can find a real job. And you
will promise not to return 'til you've done that,' said Bill. ‘And you will keep that promise.'

‘How are you going to make me?' asked Troy like a spiteful kid in a playground fight.

‘Because,' said Bill slowly and clearly, ‘I will tell Mum and the police all about you and Maggot if you come back without keeping your promise.'

‘You wouldn't do that to your old dad!' said Troy trying to get round Bill.

‘I love you, Dad,' said Bill, his voice quavering just a little. ‘But so far nothing has stopped you hurting yourself and us. And do you know, I think I love Mum that little bit more – enough not to want her ever, ever to be hurt again. And I love you enough to really, really mean what I say.'

Troy looked down at the ground. ‘So what do you want me to do? Go
now?'

‘You're not going to hurt Mum any more than you need to. You're going to say a proper goodbye. Say sorry and then tell her she won't see you 'til you've got yourself together.'

‘Well you'd better go and get her.'

‘No, Dad,' said Bill. ‘You are going to do it yourself.
Everything. Like a grown-up.'

Troy stood up and moved stiffly and wearily – as an old man might – out of the garage and into the night. Great sobs lurched up from Bill's chest. He stayed where he was until he heard his mum calling for him. ‘Bill! Where are you?' She sounded anxious and confused.

In the house, the little family of three sat in the lounge room, all in a row on the sofa. Troy put himself in the middle, his arms round the shoulders of his wife and son. Bill looked down at the ground. He knew most of what was going to be said. Pam was anxiously looking at Troy. What Bill dreaded was hearing Troy giving his half lies again, but he didn't. Being within minutes of losing his family all over again gave Troy a seriousness that he usually didn't have.

‘Listen, love,' Troy said, looking at Pam. ‘I have some growing up to do. I'm going to go away and get an education and then we'll try again.'

‘But you can do that and stay with us,' said Pam looking stricken.

‘I keep hurting my boy and my wife, love. I take the easy way too often. Bill here knows that. You both
do.' Troy took a crumpled pamphlet out of a coat pocket. ‘They gave me this info when I left jail. It's all these contacts for counselling and self-help courses and TAFE courses. You shouldn't have to put up with me while I get my act together.'

‘Please, Troy,' said Pam. ‘I've been so lonely.'

‘Put it this way. When you see me walking back through that front door, you'll know I'll have some qualifications behind me. And I will have taken a harder look at myself.' Troy squeezed Bill's shoulder. ‘I don't know how it happened, Pam. Me being such a disappointment. But we have ourselves a hero of a son. He's a man already. I'm going to make you proud of me, Bill.'

Relief and love swept through Bill. His father had forgiven him. Bill turned and said, ‘Family hug!' All three O'Connells put their arms round each other and hugged and hugged. And cried.

On the drive home from the railway station that night, Bill wondered if his mum would have an accident. She was so upset about saying goodbye to Troy that she was driving all over the place like a beginner on L plates. The next few days were hard for them both. The house felt empty. When she was home, Pam would either sit staring into space or spring clean like an over-wound clock.

There was a new burden on Bill's shoulders as well. Each night, Bill watched the news on TV to see if Maggot had been caught by the police. For a whole week, he also read the daily newspapers in the school
library. Nothing. Bill wondered if no news was good news. If Maggot had been arrested or even if his robbery had been called off, would he track down Troy and his family to seek revenge? Of course, Bill told Mat all his fears. She said that Maggot would have to be an idiot to draw attention to himself by making more trouble. Unfortunately, Bill suspected that, like all Troy's friends, Maggot probably
was
an idiot.

School became a distraction from his worries for Bill – even if his friends did embarrass him by asking why his dad was not waiting at the gates for him each afternoon. He told them the truth, that Troy had gone interstate to get an education. But he had to fend off the questions about exactly where Troy was. That is, until eight days after Bill's dad had left. That Monday afternoon, there was a long, fat envelope in the letterbox addressed in Troy's messy handwriting to Pam and Bill O'Connell.

Bill put the envelope on the kitchen table and waited for his mum to come home from the laundromat. She walked in at six o'clock – which meant it had been over two hours of waiting for Bill. Pam took one look at Bill, then at the letter on the bench. She
let out a cry of delight. ‘You darling boy. You waited!' she said. ‘Go on. Open it.'

When Bill emptied the contents of the envelope on the bench, there were numerous pieces of paper and a postcard of yachts sailing on Sydney Harbour. Pam read out the postcard first:

The pieces of paper were photocopies of two receipts from Troy's counselling sessions and the registration papers for the computer bridging course. There was also a postal order written out to Pam for fifty dollars. Neither Pam nor Bill had to ask one another what this meant. They both knew it was Troy's way of proving he was seriously trying to change. Pam pinned the postcard and the photocopies to the fridge with magnets. Bill got some paper and started writing his dad a reply.

On their walk to school next morning, Bill and Mat had a lot to say to each other. Mat was really happy for Bill when she heard about Troy's letter. ‘We have your dad sorted out,' she said. ‘Now we just have to keep Pam's spirits up.'

‘How do you mean?'

‘Give her something to get excited about.'

‘She's excited already because of Dad.'

‘That will wear out a bit, especially as his course will take ages,' said Mat very seriously. ‘We have to give her something to look forward to.'

‘Like what?' asked Bill.

‘I'll have to give that some thought,' said Mat
searching the sky for ideas. ‘How about we meet in the Think Tank after school this arvo?'

‘You're on,' said Bill.

Sure enough, sitting in the lukewarm water of the outdoor Think Tank did the trick. At first, Bill stayed silent. He usually liked it that way when they'd just climbed in. It was time to look back over the day, enjoy the good bits again and sort through why the less good bits had happened. More importantly, Bill knew Mat really did come up with brilliant ideas in the Think Tank; the sort of ideas that needed to waft in gently.

‘Got it!' said Mat, her eyes sparkling.

‘Go on. Tell,' said Bill.

‘It'll be terrific. Everyone we know will come.'

‘Mat, just tell me, will you?'

‘You and I are going to make a film. You will be director and cameraman. I will be the actress. You can do small parts, too – where you don't have to speak, or not that much. That way, we can get to see ourselves by being in the audience. And we'll invite a crowd of people and charge them heaps. And serve them refreshments and charge them for those, too.'

‘Mat, I can tell you're excited, but why is this going to make Mum so excited?'

‘Because...,' Mat paused dramatically. She looked about her to see if they were being overheard. To be extra safe she cupped her hand to Bill's ear and whispered.

‘Matty!' said Bill. ‘That's totally brilliant.'

For the following week, Bill was at Mat's beck and call. First she had to write the script. Despite some resistance from Bill, she insisted that he act a small role. He would have refused, point blank, as he had for Mat's previous performances. Being presenter and curtain puller was quite enough of a strain in front of a crowd. But what was different this time was the beauty of Mat's plan. If, as Mat insisted, the film would bring in more paying customers than usual, then Bill needed to co-operate.

Once the script was written, Bill and Mat had to practise. Some days later, when their acting was polished, they started the filming. There were two scene changes and Mat had to change costumes. Bill filmed from the verandah looking down into the garden, and from the garden gazing up to the verandah. He filmed
from the lower branches of trees. He also climbed onto the Grubs' roof to shoot one scene – ‘aerial view' was what Mat called it. For a number of the shots, Mat put a bit of Vaseline on the camera lens – she explained this was ‘soft focus'. And then Mat took over the camera and filmed Bill. He really tried hard, but he felt a fool having to wear his mum's purple tights, even if he did have a longish shirt buckled at the waist with a leather belt.

Next came the editing. Tom was useful here. He'd done a bit of film editing as part of his art course. Then there was advertising and ticket selling. Mat typed up flyers.

Mat handed the flyers to neighbours, friends of the Grub family as well as the teachers and kids in Grades Five and Six at school. She also persuaded the man at the corner store to stick a flyer in his window. Catering was no problem. Tessa and Nan were happy to make popcorn, muffins, and sandwiches. Three weeks from the initial script writing, the film was ready for public screening. It was set for a Friday night.