Rhythm

by

John Terry Moore
 

CHAPTER 41

This was their first escape from Canberra since the election.  It had been probably the hardest year he and Praveen had ever spent in public life.  The sheer ongoing drama and stress of the last six months had taken their toll, ‘and they needed several weeks somewhere in Outer Mongolia where no one could possibly recognise them,’ Tim grimaced inwardly. 

His father Laurie had passed away during the year and that had added anguish to a supremely stressful referendum year.  Praveen had taken Laurie’s death hardest of all.  He stood at the State funeral, out of Tim’s shadow for once and delivered the eulogy on behalf of the family.  “Laurie O’Brien gave generously to everyone,” Praveen had concluded.  “But he gave me several things which I value beyond anything.  He and Fiona gave me a family structure which embraced me, protected me and loved me.  He fought for Tim and I when it wasn’t fashionable or even wise to do so, because he believed in us.  He pushed me into Australian citizenship and ignited the passion that Tim and I share for Australia.  But his most precious gift to me was the gift of his son, with all the love that a father can give.  That is something I shall never forget.  Vale Laurie, and thank you.” 

*****

Tim breathed in the slightly smoky summer air with pleasure and began to relax.  It was two weeks away from Christmas, and the annual ‘bash’ of the university rowing group of 2018 - 2022.  Held at Adam and Patrick’s farm, he and Praveen had, for nearly four days, the simple luxury of privacy in surroundings that were peaceful and with company they adored.  This year was also the launch of Margaret Reeve’s book,  ‘Rhythm; ‘a definitive study of Australian same-sex partnerships in the twenty-first century.’  And of course the central characters in Margaret’s work were Adam, Patrick and The Eight.  Four same-sex couples out of a total of ten young guys!  The boys had always fascinated them.  Particularly Adam and Patrick, because they reminded them of themselves at that age.  Their paths had crossed at the 2020 Olympics, and their influence on Australian society had complemented their own.  Now ten years on, Australia was a different society.  Change had happened exponentially; the aura that was Adam and Patrick, had reached out through the media and spread around the globe; their lifestyle evidence that Australia had moved on from the entrenched homophobia of the past.  But the Eight had an enormous influence as well. 

Tim and Praveen had ‘plugged into’ the university to listen to the voice of Australia’s young people, and found they had been swept into another ‘family’ as a result.  A family where they were loved and always felt welcome without the pressure of having to be subjected to public scrutiny.  Where their critics, desperate to align Tim and Praveen with the image of dirty old men chasing the attractive university students, were dismayed to find they were spending just as much time with the boys’ parents and families, and the university administration such as Margaret Reeve and Gerry Hansen.  Over time, because there was nothing more sensational than friendship involved, those friendships deepened.  Their own children were also close to the group.  Anam and Peter had both since married; and had children of their own.  Their two grandchildren had helped Praveen heal after Laurie O’Brien’s passing.  Tim understood, as did Anam, Peter and their partners.  Tim had been distraught, not because his dad had passed on, but because Praveen was so upset.  Always in control and never phased by anything in their life together, this had been a first. 

*****

Laurie had inoperable cancer; he had been eaten away with it and was only a shell of his former self.  He had been in great pain when he finally called the family together.  Even in his weakened state, he managed to spend time with everyone individually, just a couple of minutes.  But he chose to speak to Tim and Praveen first and together because he said ‘showing favouritism was one of the few luxuries available to him at this time.’  Fiona was there, holding his hand as he whispered to them.  “I’m more proud of you two than all the others put together,” he grinned, “because you love each other so much.  And you’ve never been shy to demonstrate it publicly, even when it wasn’t acceptable to do so.  You understand the secret, just like mum and I,” he smiled briefly, gently squeezing Fiona’s hand.  “You picked Tim to be the front man, just like I got the job with us.  Mum gave away a career as a top-flight solicitor just to support what I was trying to do.”  He looked at Praveen, “And you, lovely boy, could have been a captain of industry yourself, but you’ve always loved Tim and look where your partnership has taken you!  Prime Minister all these years, soon to be Australia’s first President!  I won’t be here to see it, but I’ll be around, don’t worry.  Now give me a kiss and send the rest in.” 

A few hours later, after the family had returned home, a small medical team arrived.  Fiona sat with him as the papers were signed; she had medical power of attorney, just in case, but Laurie was alert and able to sign his name quite legibly.  The doctor counselled him, as the law required, but was humane enough to keep it short.  “Ready?” he asked.  Laurie nodded happily; his health had been compromised for months now.  Even before he had been diagnosed, Laurie suspected his time was up.  That was nearly twelve months ago, and the only thing that upset him in this drawn out process was the emotional drain that Fiona had endured.  He didn’t want her to suffer anymore, and he’d had enough of the unremitting pain which was beginning to reassert itself.  Fiona kissed him and held his hand.  There was a tiny prick from the needle; and he felt even a little euphoric as he slipped into a deep sleep.  Fiona sat there; knowing this was what he wanted and knowing it was as much for her as it was for him.  Typical Laurie; unselfish to the end.  He sank deeper into unconsciousness and an hour later his hand slipped from hers.  She was past tears; instead she felt a deep peace that her husband had been able to control his departure, proud and resolute until the end.  Much preferable to dying in agony with a priest telling you it was ‘God’s will’.  In fact the legislation had come from his own son’s hand some years ago.  Tim O’Brien and Christopher Chen had allowed a conscience vote in their respective parties and the bill had passed with a clear majority.  The fanatics had their say, of course, but the people had decided, and Australia was simply a kinder and better place as a result.