Last Call

THe haunt PROJECT IS PRESENTED IN PARTNERSHIP WITH WRITERS SA, AND IS SUPPORTED BY ARTS SOUTH AUSTRALIA.

fiction by Christina Soong


 

Grace stares at herself in the mirror. Her nose wrinkles with distaste as she takes in the grey hairs at her temples and the clips holding her hair back into neatly parted segments.  

‘So what are you doing for the holidays?’ Anh asks, as he flicks the hairdressing cape over Grace’s shoulders.

‘A family holiday in Queensland,’ replies Grace. ‘Well, a bit of a reunion, actually.’

‘Oh, yeah?’ The young hairdresser mixes the bleach powder and activator in a plastic bowl with a small brush.

‘Well, my ex was in France when Covid hit. So, he couldn’t get back to Australia. And it’s been two years since he’s seen the kids,’ Grace explains.

‘Two years? That’s harsh.’ 

‘It’s certainly had its moments,’ says Grace dryly. 

‘But now you’re going on holiday together?’ Anh asks. 

‘We’re trying to put the kids first,’ Grace explains.

‘That’s good,’ says Anh.

He begins applying the bleach to her hair with a small brush, and then wrapping up the treated hair with a strip of tinfoil. He tidies the packet and then moves onto the next section. 

‘Wait, what does Brian think?’ Anh asks. 

‘Well, he’s coming, too,’ Grace says. 

‘You’re all going on holiday together? Your husband, your ex and the kids?’ Anh asks. 

‘Yeah. It’s going to be super weird,’ Grace admitted. 

‘It’s good that you can do that for the kids,’ Anh says, gently tilting her head forward. 

Grace stares at herself in the mirror, noting the tension in her jaw. 

Six Years Earlier

Grace stares uncomprehendingly at the digital readout on the breathalyzer in the emergency department’s doctor’s hand. The numbers didn’t make any sense to her—it was like she was trying to read a foreign language instead of her native English.

0.365. 0.365. 0.365?

‘That’s more than seven times the legal limit,’ says the doctor, evenly. He makes some notes on Matt’s chart.

Grace tries to focus. She glances over at Matt, sprawled untidily on top of the neatly made hospital bed. He is staring into space, and she doesn’t know how much of his surroundings he is taking in. He had been able to answer the doctor’s questions during the brief physical examination earlier but now he seemed barely conscious.

‘He has alcohol poisoning,’ the doctor says. ‘With that reading, he should be unconscious. Frankly, I’m amazed he’s awake, let alone responsive. If he’d drunk a little more, he’d be in a coma now.’ 

As Grace stares blankly at the doctor, his face softens.

‘You didn’t know he was drinking?’ 

‘No,’ Grace says. ‘I knew he had a glass of wine after work. But I’ve never seen him really drunk except at an occasional party,’ she says.  

The doctor nods, unsurprised. He continues scribbling notes on Matt’s charts. 

‘People with drinking problems are usually very good at hiding them,’ he says.

‘Drinking problems...’ Grace echoes.

The doctor looks up from the chart and meets her gaze squarely. 

‘Yeah, I think he probably has a problem with alcohol,’ he says, flatly. ‘I’m guessing that this is not an isolated incident.’

Grace grips her handbag tighter. It feels like she’s watching the scene from far away. 

The doctor murmurs something about organising a drip for rehydration, and sleeping tablets and anti-nausea meds to help Matt as he detoxes. He goes off in search of a nurse, leaving Grace and her husband alone.

Grace suddenly thinks of their young children, Paul, Jennifer and Sam. She’d hurriedly dropped them off at her parents’ house after she’d woken up to find Matt unsteady and incoherent and the children watching TV. Her stomach tightens as she pictures their faces and she sinks slowly into the padded vinyl chair next to the hospital bed, dropping her handbag carelessly on the floor. Sam is still so young: he’s only three years old. But Paul is ten and idolises his dad while Jennifer is seven and very much a daddy’s girl. 

How will this affect them? 

Grace looks over at him and as the shock begins to thaw, she feels utterly deceived. The adrenaline floods her body, her heart beats faster and her breathing quickens. It’s fight or flight time. Time to put up or shut up.

Grace shuts her eyes. She wants to shut out the sight of Matt. She wants to shut out the world.

She’s not angry yet. Anger will come later. As will guilt, confusion, grief and shame. 

Much later, when they’re ready to leave the hospital, the doctor gives Grace a letter for her GP and a short list of resources for alcoholics. She looks at the list blankly – it could be written in Swahili for all the sense it makes to her – and then folds it and puts it automatically into her purse.

The emergency room incident is the first in a long series of medical emergencies resulting from Matt’s drinking. He will lose his driver’s license and then his job. 

Grace will spend years trying to save Matt, before realising that trying to save an alcoholic from themselves is an impossible task. They will eventually separate and then divorce. 

Matt will get sober and then relapse. He will repeat this pattern, hitting rock bottom again and again, and be in and out of their lives. After he develops cirrhosis of the liver and is told in no uncertain terms that drinking again will kill him, he will return to France and achieve sobriety.

Grace will eventually meet Brian through a mutual friend. She will be skittish, but he is kind and patient, and he makes her laugh. He will be good to Paul, Jennifer and Sam and help to raise them as if they were his own. 

‘See how nice your hair looks now?’ Anh asks.  

Grace looks at herself in the mirror, turning her head this way and that. She nods, pleased. 

‘Now you’re ready for your holiday,’ Anh says, rubbing some oil in his palms and through the ends of her hair. He tousles and arranges her hair so that it settles in the most flattering way. 

‘Thank you,’ she smiles. ‘It looks lovely.’

Anh unclips her hairdressing cloak and shakes it out.

‘Hope it all goes well,’ he says. ‘I’ll see you in six weeks.’

As she steps out of the hair salon and into the bright summer sunshine, Grace is momentarily dazzled. For a second, she has a vision of them all on a Queensland beach. The sun is high in the sky and the bright sunlight reflects brilliantly off the white sand. The kids are splashing each other in the shallows with Matt, she’s happily reading a book and Brian is dozing in the sun next to her.

Grace pauses for a moment and then she lifts her chin firmly and continues on her way.

✷✷✷

 

Christina Soong has worked in development on original scripted drama series for Disney+ and SBS, was awarded a 2023 Varuna Fellowship and was selected for AFTRS’ 2022 Talent Camp (SA). Christina's writing, photography and recipes have been published in Jetstar Magazine, The China Daily, Elle, Gourmet, Elle Decor, The Huffington Post, and BuzzFeed, whilst her former blog, The Hungry Australian, won the Australian Writers’ Centre’s Best Australian Blogs 2014 competition.

 

 
 
Leah McIntosh