Carnival Sky Read Free

others of the group laughed, and it didn’t occur to him that he’d broken in when Donna had been speaking. He took for granted that his seniority in the office would transfer to their time together beyond work.
    Sheff left before the others. Had he been still with them, Lloyd wouldn’t have remarked on how sour he’d become, and increasingly dogmatic, since the divorce, though the thought would have been the same. ‘Well, he’s had a rough spin, hasn’t he?’ said Donna generously.
    ‘And now his father’s really bad with cancer,’ Nick said.
    ‘Yeah, but he’s becoming a grumpy, pernickety bastard all the same,’ persisted Lloyd.
    ‘He’s having a tough time. I feel for him really,’ said Raewyn.
    During the weekend Sheff spent some time assessing his financial position. Giving up his job carried risks, and the divorce from Lucy had been financially as well as emotionally damaging. But he’d never considered money a priority, and never had trouble finding work. And there was excitement in contemplating such a major shift: new prospects had been rare in recent years.
    He rang Nick on the Sunday evening and talked to him about it. ‘Maybe you’re just feeling down,’ said his friend. ‘I wouldn’t jump ship until you’re sure – not until you’ve something sussed out to go to. I mean we all get pissed-off at times in this business, but you come through it and things aren’t so bad. I wouldn’t throw it in, not when you’ve beavered away to get somewhere.’
    ‘It doesn’t give me a buzz any more.’
    ‘Yeah, but that’s not just the job, is it? It’s the family stuff, the divorce and everything, your father being crook. You’re having a really bad patch, but you need to think of the rest of your life now. You could walk away from the paper and find yourself worse off in the end. What’s really bugging you, that’s the thing, isn’t it?’
    ‘Well, crap journalism for one.’
    ‘You’re not going to change that,’ said Nick.
    ‘Be nice to be clear of it for a while, though.’
    ‘All sorts of things are nice, but what the hell would you do? Corporate newsletters, or spin for some political bozo. You know you wouldn’t hack it.’
    ‘Maybe a complete break,’ said Sheff. ‘Maybe lecturing on a cruise liner, or writing up museum exhibits, or organising duty rosters. Maybe a small business of my own.’
    ‘Maybe bullshit,’ said Nick, and one of the last things he said during the conversation was that Sheff needed to stop being angry. That comment stayed with Sheff: it was true and it was obvious, but he hadn’t admitted its extent before, or tried to understand the cause. Anger lay not far beneath almost all his other emotions and surfaced when they wore thin. Yet he never thought of himself as an angry man. Anger meant a lack of self-control, and he prided himself on holding to reason in his behaviour. That balance had been remarked on, and also his self-sufficiency. When he thought about his feelings over the last few months he decided that, rather than anger, justifiable impatience had become his first and characteristic response to any difficulty, or to disagreement with his views. Yes, impatience was whatNick intended to suggest, Sheff decided. And all of that, surely, was further proof he needed to make some sea change in his life.
    Sometimes, too, he experienced passing concern for his health. Nothing serious enough that he would consult a doctor. Small concerns considered singly – occasional nosebleeds, vaguely located and passing stomach pains, drifting, pale fragments in his vision, neck cricks, receding hairline, and sometimes his piss was so dark that he could see the colour spiralling down to the bottom of the bowl. Lucy would have told him that such things were no cause for anxiety, but it’s different when you are alone. Reassuring yourself brings little comfort.
    When he talked to the editor a little over a week later, Sheff had already moved from the urgency