The idea of Jonah Fisher coming to me, hat in hand, begging for casual teaching work, was like reading Deleuze.
The idea of him no longer being an academic was like reading fuckingDerrida.
No. Worse. I could at least get there with Derrida in the end. But I couldn’t even imagine it: me, blithely building an academic career, while he was… what would he even be? Some guy who worked some nine-to-five in some office? All that work – all that knowledge – all those arguments we’d had – just… gone?
What would happen if I ran into him in Hobart, this unimaginable, defanged, non-scholar version of Jonah? What would we evensayto each other?Oh, hello, nice to see you, how about this weather we’re having?
I’d won. After all these years we’d been fighting, I’d won. That meant something.
But who would I even be without him to measure myself by?
JANUARY
Chapter FiveSadie
I avoided Jonah over the Christmas break. It was a childish thing to do, but I’d rather be childish than have to go through a conversation when he ran his hand awkwardly through his hair then did the verbal equivalent of getting down on his knees and begging me for whatever crumbs of labour I could provide him – or, God forbid, told me he was also moving to Hobart so he could help his sister, and giving up academia together.
It was strange, given how much time and energy I’d devoted to trying to defeat him over the years, but I didn’t want my victory to be my last memory of him. We’d got to a place you could almost call nice, that night we’d sat across from each other and agreed not to fight anymore. A place with a sense of resolution to it. It wasn’t a eucatastrophic ending – far from it – but it had had a satisfying sense of closure about it. Fifteen years of conflict, tied up at last with a bow.
If that was our ending, I could deal with it. It might be anti-climactic, but it was mature.
So in the interest of being adult, I childishly dove out of any room there was even a hint of him entering – which meant I basically declared the kitchen Jonah’s territory and never went in there,because he always seemed to be standing in front of the stove cooking something or other – and focused on getting things organised instead. I might have several weeks before I had to move, but there were still things I needed to do. Talk to my various bosses and let them know I would not be available for casual teaching anymore. Start bringing home books from the tiny corners of office space I’d managed to carve out for myself. Familiarise myself with Hobart on Google Maps, work out where would be best to live.
Although I might not have the luxury of being picky. Blithely, I’d assumed that a small city like Hobart would be infinitely cheaper to rent in than the notoriously expensive Sydney, but when I started browsing through real estate websites, my eyes almost fell out of my head. I’d had every intention of living alone once I moved – that seemed like what you did when you had an adult job with an adult income – but if I was going to do that, I’d be spending a truly massive chunk of said adult income on rent. I was going to have to find myself another share house.
I tipped my head back and groaned. When I inhaled again, the delicious smell of whatever it was that Jonah was cooking in the kitchen filled my nostrils, a pointed reminder that the chances of me finding a place as good at the one I’d shared with him for the past eight years were negligible at best.
I rubbed the heel of my hand over the developing anxious tightness in my chest. It was early January, which surely had to be a shit time for rental listings. Maybe more would go up in the next few weeks. Perhaps I should focus on the actual moving, rather than precisely where I would be moving to.
I googled moving companies – and once again, my eyes almost fell out of my head.
They cover moving costs in my contract, right?I texted Chess.Otherwise I might need to sell a kidney.
She was at work, so her response didn’t come for a few hours, during which I’d dug more into potential rental listings and worked myself up from mild anxiety into proper panic.Yep, moving costs covered up to $3K, plus accom for the first two weeks. That should be plenty, but if it’s not – I’ve got you.
I tried to focus on the good news – the money for removalists, the fact I had more time than I thought to find a place – rather than the fact that, despite my firm policy around not taking money from Chess no matter how much she tried to force it into my hands, I was sorely fucking tempted.
I took a deep breath. No. I was an adult. I was going to work this out on my own –howwas the delicious smell of Jonah’s cooking still lingering?
My phone vibrated again.Nearly finished going through your contract. There’s a few clauses I’d like to see if we can get some wiggle room on, but it mostly seems fine. Only thing that jumped out at me as slightly unusual was partner hire, but that’s not relevant in your case.
I blinked.
And we’re DEFINITELY having a conversation about salary negotiation. I know you’ve told me a thousand times that universities don’t work like that, but there is ALWAYS room to negotiate.
Ok. Thanks Chessie! Love you xx
You can repay me in romance books, she sent back, then presumably marked a six-minute block as ‘pro bono’ on her calendar and moved on.
I, however, did not.
I went into my email, dug out my contract, and hit ctrl-F.Partner h, I typed.
I read through the relevant section. Once. Twice. Three times.
I read it like someone had put hardcore French theory in front of me and told me I had to explain it to undergraduates.
Then I opened a new tab on my web browser. Did some googling. Fell down some Reddit rabbit holes.
