Desperation Measures

I remember at Briar Hill there were times when Dad would say to Mum, "Give us a couple of bob." Mum would say "No," and then he’d be begging.

It was terrible. It made me cringe to hear him begging like that.

For once he’d use her name: "Just a couple of bob, Ame," he’d say.

ln desperation, on a couple of occasions, he took to drinking methylated spirits.

Mum had a tin money box for the Mission to Lepers. Mum would put a threepence or sixpence in it. At times Dad was so desperate for alcohol he’d get a knife and put it through the slot and balance a coin on it, and take it out very carefully. Mum would go to it, and the thing would be nearly empty.

When I think of it, what did Dad have to live for? He was broke. He had a failed marriage, and widespread unemployment meant jobs were as scarce as hen’s teeth.

There was a bloke by the name of Price. He was a J.P. and an Eltham Shire Councillor. I didn’t know what a J.P. was. Mum went to him to discuss our predicament. I think she must have said that most of our money was going on alcohol, to support Dad’s habit.

In consequence of this meeting, Mum started getting some of Dad’s pension paid to her account to buy food. But Dad was ropable. "You’ve got the whip-hand now," he told her.

After that, I noticed we were never quite so desperate for tucker.