Free Working Class Boy by Jimmy Barnes Page B

and I’d get home at night, too tired to hear the folks fighting. Because I was not home for most of the day I didn’t see first-hand how unhappy my mum was. And sometimes Dad didn’t come home until we were either in bed or getting ready to go to bed. He was often tired and all he wanted to do was drink and not hear any nagging. So he didn’t really speak to any of us unless he was drunk. Then he was happy and made jokes at Mum’s expense, telling us, ‘You know yer mother’s a pain in the arse – no all the time, but definitely when she’s awake.’
    She wasn’t a pain in the arse as far as we could see, but we would laugh along with him, pretending we knew what he was talking about. The only time Mum was a pain in the arse was when she wouldn’t let us do what we wanted to do, which was probably the same for him when I think about it.
    There always seemed to be someone in the house, friends of Dad’s or friends of Mum’s. We never had a good time together with just the family. I think Mum and Dad were avoiding each other and maybe they were both avoiding us. It wasn’t long until we were avoiding them too. This arrangement seemed to work for us all.
    By this time Dad was working for an Italian builder somewhere nearby. He seemed to like his job and got on wellwith his boss although that would change later on. Both Mum and Dad always told me how hard he worked. The story was different depending who was speaking.
    â€˜Yer father never misses a day’s work. No matter what he’s been doin’, he gets up and goes tae work. If the bastard would just bring the money hame, we’d be aw right.’
    â€˜I work like a dog all day and I get home and your mother nags me to death. “I need mair money, I want ye tae get a better job.” This goes on aw night, so I cannae wait tae get up and get oot in the mornin’, just to get her oot of ma sight.’
    Dad seemed to avoid us most on Thursdays, when, coincidentally, he got paid. He never missed work; I’ve got to say he had a good work ethic. But come Thursday he would finish work, pick up his pay packet and then none of us would see him until it was all gone. He had a bad pay packet ethic. We’d be hungry and Mum would be crying a lot and telling us, ‘Yer father’s a pig, always was, always will be.’
    That seemed to be the pattern when we were kids. In the meantime, Mum tried her best to feed us on next to nothing.
    There were a number of big events in the first few years in Australia. We moved from Finsbury Hostel to Seaton Park for a short while. Dad was still working for the builder and we got to stay in one of his houses. When I say ‘his houses’ I mean something he was probably going to get my dad to help him knock down as soon as he could. It wasn’t great. We had moved from a tin shed to a hovel but Mum seemed happier and that made it easier for Dad.
    My memory of that time isn’t very clear but I do remember the builder had a watch dog that he kept on a chain. It was a huge Alsatian and not even the bloke who owned it could get near it. I think he must have thrown food to it because this dog would runat anyone who came near him. He kept it there so no one would go near his building site or his tools but the dog was going crazy from being tied up all day and all night. The poor thing had no contact with anyone who cared about it.
    My dad loved animals, dogs in particular. And they loved him. He walked straight up to this dog, looked it in the eye and sat down next to it and said, ‘You’ll be alright wee pal. Don’t worry, I’m here tae look after ye.’
    I’m sure he said the same thing to me but I could be wrong.
    He then proceeded to show the poor beast some love. The dog didn’t know how to react and just dropped its guard and fell in love with him immediately. As I said before, my dad was a charmer. Dogs weren’t the