Page 93 of Malaise
“What would you do if none of this was an issue?” Carver lifts his hands to gesture to his predicament. “If you didn’t have to worry about me, and if your options were unlimited?”
“Tanya made me look up courses at the polytechnic in town.”
“Yeah? See anything you like?”
“A couple.” I shrug. “But I hadn’t made my mind up on it. I don’t know if they’ll even take me since I’m applying past the cut-off.”
“Go to the damn Post Office,” he demands. “See if your exam results are in and do what it takes to get on one of those courses.”
“Why?”
“Because you need a future outside of the shithole we live in, Meg. You’re bright, have one hell of a wicked mind on you, and you’d be wasted sewing coveralls for peanuts.”
“It can wait.” Once his hearing is over, this is all sorted out and they realise he wasn’t at fault, I can try for mid-year intake. No way am I doing this now when it means I wouldn’t be around to support him.
“It can’t wait. I love you, Meg, and fuck knows I want to be out there with you so damn bad it hurts, but don’t let the days pass you by just because I screwed up. Move on. Carry on with your life.”
“But you didn’t screw up,” I argue. “You weren’t there. It wasn’t you.”
“Not this time, but my history doesn’t help my cause, Meg. I don’t know if they’re even looking for anyone else, or if they’re just happy laying it on me.”
“You seem like you’re happy to let them,” I snap. Why does he sound as though he’s been thinking this over? “Fight the charges, Carver. Get out of here and come to the city too. We can find a flat, get you a job where people don’t know your history—”
“Even if they did search, they’d conveniently never find who really did it, Meg.”
I frown, fingers tightly gripping the edge of the table. “What makes you say that? Do you know more about this than you’re telling me?”
“I overheard a few things while I was held at the station those first days. It took me a while to piece it together, but yeah, I think I know who did it, and if I’m right, he’d never be charged.”
“Are you saying it’s—”
“Forget it,” he warns. “Just let it go, Meg. It’s not your problem.”
“It fucking is,” I hiss through clenched teeth. “If you give up and leave me… then….”
“What? You’ll be forced to carve out a future that’s best for you, and not let my sorry arse drag you down?”
“Don’t say that.” I fight the unwanted tears at his resignation.
“Face the truth, babe. I’ve been selfish with you. I’ve held you back all because I can’t stand the thought of not having you there with me, to talk to, to hold. But that’s not fair on you. My wants shouldn’t overpower your needs.”
“What if I want the same thing, though? Huh?”
He shakes his head, dismissing me. “Even if your parents came forward, I could almost guarantee I’d get done for this anyway. Jasper’s old man has it in for me—he’d probably pay whoever he had to, to get me locked away, just so he can walk in the pub and gloat to my old man.”
“What the hell has their family got against yours?” I ask. “What’s it to them what you do?”
“We’re two ends of the spectrum, Meg. Polar opposites. Repelled and repulsed by each other. People like me are a stain on the town to pompous fuckers like him. He wants our ‘kind’ gone. His vision is for a squeaky clean Whitecaps, and jailbirds and petty thieves like the Carvers don’t fit that bill.”
“I don’t care if he’ll make it hard,” I whisper. “I’m talking to Mum and Dad.”
“If they wanted to help they would have done it by now. You’re wasting yourself on me, Meg, and you know it.”
“No, I don’t know it. I know that’s what people tell me, but I’m yet to feel that for myself. Everything you’ve done for me, every moment we’ve spent together, it’s made me a better person. So tell me, Brett, how does that make you a waste of my time?”
He recoils at my use of his actual name. “I tried playing it straight and narrow, Meg. It didn’t work.”
“Then don’t just ‘play,’ Carver. Give it a red-hot go and actually do it. Prove them wrong, and stop playing into their preconceived idea of who you should be.” I glance over at the officer to our right who seems disinterested in the conversation, eyes scanning the room. Lowering my voice, I lean forward again. “Do what you have to, to get out of here. Whatever it takes. Just come home to me when you’re finished.”