Sydney's Song (13 page)

New Year's Eve hit 1300500 like a cyclone. It felt like all Sydneysiders and tourists were making last-minute plans to greet the new millennium.

The contract specified 80% of the calls had to be answered within 20 seconds. It meant the Ministry of Transport fined us when we kept callers waiting for longer than 20 seconds. Now, the agents' bonus was based on how much money came in. When we were fined, less money would be thrown into the bonus pool. So everyone on the floor panicked. Nobody wanted to be the lowest-paid Australian, remember?

“My bus is diverted! Where should I catch it from now?”

I guided them step-by-step through the bus diversion. “Thanks for calling!”

RELEASE.

“Darling, the signs say the Harbour Bridge is closed for buses and all traffic from six o'clock. But how come ferries continue to operate?”

“The ferries don't go on the Bridge.” They go under it, in case you didn't know. “Thanks for calling!”

RELEASE.

“We only have to pay for one child and the other is free?”

“Correct. On our public transport you only pay for one child, regardless of the number of children.”

“But my kids are twins. Which one should I pay for?”

“It doesn't matter, Ma'am. Thanks for calling!”

RELEASE.

“What a hot voice! Babe, what colour is your underwear?”

RELEASE. Didn't deign to say a word.

“The taxi driver is refusing to help with my luggage,” a soft-spoken trannie whined. “We've been arguing for ten minutes. He scares me.Could you put me through to complaints, please.”

“Will do.” While I clicked the Your Say extension, I could hear the taxi driver abusing her because she was a trans. He argued that he never helped a male passenger who only had one suitcase, but he would when there were many suitcases. He adamantly refused to acknowledge that she was not a male anymore. So they were at a stalemate.

While I was definitely straight, I respected others. I believed people of different races, religions and sexual-orientations are entitled to a decent life just as you would want for yourself, even when you disagree with their views or choices. I did not condone this driver's language as nobody in the world deserved it.

“Please get his driver's ID,” I told her. “Thanks for calling!”

RELEASE.

Of course, the bulk of NYE calls were about how to get to parties and the best vantage points to watch Sydney's famous fireworks. Mrs Macquarie's Chair. McMahons Point… You name it.

The non-stop calls banged our ears fast and furiously. At the start, the managers offered chocolates to console agents. That was plain unintelligent—how could you eat when you were this busy?Everyone felt the pressure. Very soon even managers and administration staff sat down to take calls. Still the calls continued to drop in like a storm. Why on earth did thousands plan their night at the last minute?

So I talked. And talked. My voice was tired. Before I worked at a call centre, I had not known a voice could get tired, just like it could grow old. I drank water. And talked.

And I missed Pete terribly…

Why did he have to be so wonderful? Should I continue keeping my distance? But how much longer? Worse, could I?

I was torn with indecision.

He would be gone soon. Never to return. Wouldn't it hurt to be treated as a fling? This thing between us could go nowhere. Who was going to jump into the abyss at 18 anyway? He was an American.For God's sake, he had gone
downtown
to party.

I logged off the phone at midnight. All television screens changed from transport-information updates to bursts of beautiful colour from new-millennium fireworks. Everyone on the floor cheered.

Champagne erupted.

“Under 18,” I smiled, shaking my head when offered a flute. Felt like I had said it too often lately, hounded by friends to drink. They would leave me be for a while before trying again, because in their kindness they wanted kids to discover the joy of booze and cutting loose. So I smiled. And smiled. No thank you.

Ours was a society which regarded me a freak for saying no. To many, drinking and casual sex were mere forms of entertainment, meaningful or hollow. During high school, friends wanted respect for their choices, which was fine by me. But they labelled me prudish, killjoy, un-Australian. Do you know how intimidating it was for a teen to live and breathe among the majority of prude-haters? Well, human rights belonged to each and every one of us. Ours was a free country. I was permitted my choices.

My office friends cheerily wished me Happy New Year.
Friends
. I did not regard them as “co-workers” anymore. They were now“friends”. Young and old.

We weren't a bunch of lazy bums, you know. Some were elderly pensioners. They returned to work because staying home was slower than a wet week after a time. They loved to meet fellow human beings at the office. They were wonderful to chat with. They had interesting thoughts, feelings, and rich histories to stimulate your mind.

Several were mothers. They worked while their kids were at school, refusing to stay at home sucking tax-payers' money through welfare benefits.

And several were students, working hard to support their study.

The lift down was noisy with best wishes.

We crossed the pedestrian bridge over George Street still munching chocolates from the office. As my friends went to party in Hornsby first, I descended the stairs to the platform alone. A few police officers stood around to “welcome” the (totalled) NYE revellers. One of them was extremely good looking and he winked at me, “Happy New Year!”

My train was empty as it was going to the City to pick up party-goers. I checked my SMS and they were all from Pete. Immediately I felt euphoric.

“Wish u were here”

And,
“Happy NY!”

And,
“Can't talk. Too noisy. Thinking of you”

I alighted in Beecroft blissfully happy and had a very restful sleep… Until I had to sit down at my workstation at 6am taking calls.

“Sweetheart, I wanna go home,” a written-off guy slurred.

“Give me a clue where you are.”

“In the City… near a big building… Whaat? No… Dunno what building. It's big.” Right. In the
City
. Near a big building. Really narrowed it down, ya think?

“I lost my wallet on the train,” another soused one reported. “It was on the City Circle.” And did you know there were hundreds of trains in the City Circle last night?

“I lost my wallet, not sure where.”

“I lost my wallet!”

There. Don't get drunk when you go out on New Year's Eve.

Pickpockets are out too.

Happy New Year Sydney!

“You wouldn't
believe
the amount of roobish at the Opera House!”Sinead cornered me near the lockers, looking exhausted
after
her days off. We gave each other Happy-New-Year hugs and she urgently whispered that we must talk.

“Sydney and Sinead,” our very pretty American boss passed, and played with our names. She stopped to chat about the New Millennium. The feared millennium bug did not happen. Our computers were safe.

When she left, Sinead whispered with determination, “Let's go somewhere after work.”

With Hornsby Mall's makeover still a mess, there was no good place nearby except Hornsby Library next door. Which was closed.

“Come with me.” I took her across the station to William Street and turned into Lisgar Rd.

“Oh blessed! A secret garden!” Entranced, her eyes widened when we entered Lisgar Gardens. Once upon a dream, Dad and I had brought Mum here to celebrate a Mother's Day. “How loovly!”

As we walked down the winding pathway of the terraced garden, Sinead looked around with fascinated eyes. “So tranquil…Soothing…” she twirled around. “Feels like we aren't in Hornsby!D'you know how ugly Hornsby Station is? They could've made it greener, but no. With such an eyesore to welcome visitors, who'd have thought of fantastic gardens and a forest so nearby. This is grand! If I ever get married, I'll get married here!”

“You'll have to marry an Aussie! And get married in August.

Hundreds of camellias will bloom then.”

This summer afternoon, it was very cool and peaceful in the leafy garden. We left the upper gardens and went down the valley to the quiet lower gardens, which was rather dark under soaring trees as it bordered native Australian bush.

I sat on a boulder by a trickling waterfall and raised an eyebrow.

“You need to give in to Pete,” she ordered bluntly. “I saved him for you on New Year's Eve! He was drunk. That horrid Flo would've liked to get on to him. But I like you so I kept him with us. That bitch kept trying to lure him away. I even drank less to keep my wits about me for you!”

What the?

“Wait wait wait… You drank less to keep your wits for me?”

“To save your boyfriend for you!”

“
My
boyfriend?”

“He's our friend. He's good to us. We all like him.” She looked into my eyes seriously. “We like you, too.”

“Why, thank you.” But my mind started to assimilate what she was telling me. “Flo and Pete?” Jealousy reared its ugly head.

“There is no Flo and Pete! You can thank me for that. We kept him dancing with us all night. We ditched Flo at Circular Quay, she was rather high then, so we could shake her. Pete crashed with the boys before going back to his uncle's. How dare she? Join us, I mean.We'd been out there since early morning to secure the best viewing place. We took turns going far away to the toilet, the others guarding our little spot of prime real estate. We were all prepared with food and cards and things. Waiting for hours on our picnic rug. Then she came, sauntering in late-as-you-please, clinging to Pete. He just didn't want to be rude to her. Then we were all foxed. I mean, not me. I was determined to keep Pete safe for you. I hate that girl. She's been awful to me. She does drugs too, you know?”

What was it about me? I had been so out of touch. Selfishly wallowing in self-pity. Never taking any pain to notice my friends'problems.

“Would you like to tell me?”

“She's been a bitch for months!” she complained, her Irish brogue thicker with emotion. “She's selfish and a bully. She comes between me and my guy, elbowing her way in, literally, no matter whom I'm with, everywhere we go pubbing.

“Last month in Lindfield I told her politely that wasn't the way to go. But she pushed me, yelling. Kevin told her to back off then. The things she said, they were too obscene to bear repeating! She so looks down on me because I'm Irish and I'm backpacking.

“We've been trying to avoid her. But now she hunts us because Pete's often with us and she's trying to get him. I feel so disturbed when she's near. True, our contract here is nearing the end, but I want it to end splendidly. Hell, we've come all the way to Australia to have the time of our lives! We want to remember this with joy. In Ireland it'll be boring studying. Pete doesn't give in to her but he's not rude enough to her for my taste.”

“Pete can look after himself. He's a big guy. He's tactful and reasonable.”

“We only have one month. She wants to get her claws on Pete before we go. Now Sydney, the air fairly sizzles with electric current when you two are in the same room. Sparks fly. So take action!”

“I'm worried… She's so pretty and I'm near anorexic. I have nothing to offer. I'm not cool.”

“You won't be anorexic if you'll just let Pete cook for you. He's an excellent cook!”

She looked at me grimly and I truly felt sorry for being unaware of any undercurrents between her and Flo.

“Sinead… I want you to be happy.”

“Oh blessed! Famous! So you coming to the pub with us now?Keep Pete company. That'll get Flo to back off. I don't want her near!”

“But how will I stay happy when you're all gone?” Was I to help her be happy for one month by endangering my own heart? “I'm feeling sad just thinking about it.”

She looked up at a slither of sunlight among the tall gum trees, her hair shining red, and smiled.

“Sydney, seize life by the moment. You're young only once and only for a short time. Make the most of what's presented to you. Live life, embrace it. Be joyous. Let's be grateful for what's within our reach.” Amazing. Devil-may-care Sinead sprouting philosophy.“Live with no regrets of what-could-have-been.”

I thought about her and her group singing at Darling Harbour.Living life. So poor. So blissfully happy. Appreciating whatever was within their reach. No regrets.

“Give in,” she urged. “Travelling can be lonely, you know. Haven't you wondered about Pete always being alone? He feels this thing for you. Aren't you thinking of him?”

Didn't she just know how to clinch it.

We went back to the office. I was deep in thought.