The Infinite Air by Fiona Kidman Page A

altogether a surprise. Or that was until he found his mother in his room, going about her work, clearing his wardrobe.
    ‘I didn’t ask for this,’ he said, and all of a sudden he wasn’t adult at all, his face puckering as if he were about to cry.
    ‘I don’t care what you asked for,’ Nellie said. ‘You haven’t had a good word for me in a long time, and I tell you I won’t take it any more.’
    ‘But I don’t even get on with Father,’ John said.
    ‘Well, you’d better start, because that’s who you’ve got now.’ She was bent on one knee on the suitcase, pulling it together with a leather strap.
    ‘Where will we go tonight?’
    ‘Tonight? That’s not for me to worry about. Just pick up your books and get going.’
    Seeing Jean sobbing in the corner of the front room, John came over and knelt beside her. ‘Jean, it won’t be for long. They’ll get back together, you’ll see.’ When her convulsive sobs didn’t stop he put both arms around her. ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be rough on you. We’ve had good times, you and me. We’ll stick together.’ Jean’s breath caught in her throat as she tried to stifle her crying. She put her head on his shoulder. ‘You’re just a little kid still. There are some things I can’t explain to you right now. Perhaps you’ll understand some day. You’ll always be my little sister. Here, take my hankie. All right? All right now, you hold on tight to that, and I’ll see you soon.’ He stood awkwardly beside her.
    ‘What if Harold comes back?’ she whispered.
    He paused, ruffling her hair, an unhappy expression crossing his face.
    ‘He’ll be my problem, I guess. Anyway, our mother won’t let him come back.’
    By then it was nearly eleven o’clock. Fred pointed out that they wouldn’t get into a hotel now, the doors would be all shut. Nellie reminded him that he had his surgery rooms: why didn’t he and John just go there and sleep on the floor.

CHAPTER 5
    WHEN IT CAME DOWN TO IT, it was Nellie who left Fred. The night after their quarrel, Fred used his key to return. He was carrying the suitcase he had packed the night before. ‘This is where I live, and I pay the rent,’ he told Nellie. ‘You might as well get used to it. John will be back later this evening.’
    Nellie had been weeping all through the night and looked at him now with haggard eyes. ‘Ellen, stop this. I’m not shifting anywhere.’
    She straightened herself up. ‘I might have known,’ she said. ‘You want it all, don’t you? The women and us. I’m not going to stand for it.’ But she must have known this would happen because, even as she had wept, she had packed bags for herself and Jean. ‘We’re the ones who’re leaving.’
    ‘Good luck,’ he said. ‘Don’t expect me to pay two rents. And don’t think I’ll leave our daughter living on the streets.’
    Nellie held the big bag that had stayed in the back of her wardrobe since Fred came home. ‘She won’t,’ she said. ‘I can promise you that. My daughter.’
    ‘Mother,’ Jean said, but Nellie had her by the arm and was marching her out the door. That night they slept in their new accommodation — one room, a tiny kitchen and a shared bathroom, above a shop in Parnell. Nellie paid over a month’s rent in advance. ‘We’ve made out on our own before,’ she said breezily to Jean, as if recovered from the trauma of the night. ‘The war was a good training ground. Life’s one long battle, it seems, but we’re prepared, you and I.’
    In the little room that night, Jean lay awake in the double bed, Nellie’s body rising and falling beside her as she slept, exhaustedbeyond reason. She reached out and touched her mother’s arm, but she didn’t respond. In the kitchenette, gas hissed in the pipes. Through the wall a woman’s voice rose in an odd shriek. A man’s voice spoke and there was laughter, and then the woman made yipping noises as if she were happy and ended with another shriek. Out on