18.

A Week Later

Early Evening

Bob looked around the room.   Everything was ready.   Beth and Rosemary were away for the week, so there was no one to disturb him.

Straining beneath the effort, Bob pushed the double bed away from the centre of the room, until it was hard against the second hand double-door wardrobe against the wall, taking care not to damage the delicate glass-fronted crystal cabinet which stood at the end of the bed since there was no room for it in the tiny lounge room.

The months that Bob had spent on the dole had been bad enough.   ‘It’s one thing for someone the age of Colleen or Chris to accept welfare payments,’ thought Bob, ‘but a man my age has a special sort of pride which makes living on charity a bitter pill to swallow!’   Especially knowing that at his age, with his education, Bob would probably never get another job.   But as if that had not been bad enough, for eight months Bob had been forced to skulk around like a criminal, begging from Jon, Jack, or Kevin, to struggle to survive without the dole.

Even with the occasional ninety-nine-year-loan from Jon, Jack, or Kevin, the Bennetts only just managed to stay alive thanks to the money that Beth brought in, working three days a week, doing other women’s housework.   Bob had hated to agree to Beth working a third day.   It had been bad enough for a proud woman like Beth to do other women’s housework at any time, ‘But it’s so much worse,’ thought Bob, ‘when she is forced to be the family’s sole wage earner!’   He knew that it was very hard on her and, through no fault of his own, Bob was only making things all the more difficult for her.

Stepping up onto the high back, wooden chair, Bob reached for the light cord, which he twisted into a loop after first removing and pocketing the light bulb.   He placed his head through the loop to test it for size.   Beneath him the wooden chair rocked its protest, as though the weight of a man standing were somehow greater than the weight of the same man sitting.