Rob pulled up in the drive of the low set weather board home surrounded by tall gum trees and a picket fence. A magenta coloured bougainvillea hid the front window from passersby. When he was younger he'd spent a lot of holidays in this house and loved exploring the old stone paths that meandered through the gardens. He sat in his car taking in the sight of the house and hoped his aunt remained her usual calm self when he told her his story.

As yet, Rob hadn't worked out how he was going to tell his parents he'd sabotaged his life. There was no positive way to tell them he'd just spent a month in a military prison to be dishonourably discharged and sent packing with his life stored away in two cardboard boxes. He had no answers as to why he'd done it, so to try and give any reasons at this moment in time were beyond him. Pressing his hands to his eyes Rob dragged in a lungful of air to stop the surge of emotion he felt lapping at the fringes of his mind. The honest truth was, he had wanted to cry for weeks, maybe even months but he'd pushed it aside with bravado rather than let what little hold he had left on his life, crumble completely.

"Rob?"

The sound of his Aunt Helen's curious voice pulled him back to the now. Rob lifted his head and put a beaming smile on his face as he opened the car door and climbed out. He bent down and gave his aunt a kiss and a cuddle. Chuckling he said, "I'd forgotten how tiny you were."

"Oh... I think it's more that you seem to have grown a foot," she said with a laugh as she returned his hug. "What do they feed you at that RAAF base?"

"Plenty of greens," Rob said with a smirk remembering how Helen always made him eat his beans when he was a kid.

She took a step back, clasped her hands together and looked him up and down. "So what are you doing here? Have you got some time off?" She didn't wait for an answer but ushered him with her hand saying, "Come in. I hope you're not going to rush off."

"I'm sorry I didn't ring," Rob said as he locked the car and followed her along the path. "I was hoping I could stay for a few nights."

Helen stopped walking and turned to face him. "Of course you can. Have you got a bag?"

"Yeah." Rob jerked his thumb over his shoulder.

"Well you better grab it. Save you having to come back out." Helen watched him nod and return to his car. Something was up. Being a professor at La Trobe University for twenty-six years had given Helen Jarvis plenty of experience with young people. She could read the vibes they gave off like she could read a book. They tried to cover their troubles with big smiles and joyful voices but nothing hid tight jaw muscles that quivered just below the ears and haunted eyes, which wouldn't hold your gaze.

A lot of her colleagues laughed when Helen declared eyes said more than words. Her nephew, like his father, had eyes that spoke a thousand times more than their mouths. She had a feeling whatever was going on with Rob had something to do with that girlfriend he had talked about when they'd called in and stayed the night before Michael and Sheila had taken him to the air force base. If the girl looked anything like her little brother, Linc, Helen suspected being let loose in a university environment would have every single male in her vicinity clambering over each other to make themselves known to her.

When he returned with his bag she gave Rob a smile and put her hand in the middle of his back. "What do you think of my beautiful bougainvillea?" Again she didn't wait for an answer. "It's part of our latest propagation program at the Uni. I have this brilliant young woman who is having huge success. She's created this beauty. Fast growing, no thorns and continuous flowering. Nature never ceases to amaze me." Helen sucked in the scent of the garden. "Smell that. We're in the centre of a city but those gums always make me feel like I'm in the bush."

"Yeah, it's beautiful." Rob took in the smell and looked up at one of the tall trees. The sun was starting to set and gums seemed to exert their scent early mornings and on dusk. The aroma had a settling effect which made Rob smile as he thought, no matter what happened, life continued to roll on. He looked down at his aunt and guessed it'd been her aim to get him to breathe in the smell. Rob knew instantly he'd done the right thing coming to her before announcing to the world what a failure he was.

*

Helen left him to settle into one of the spare rooms while she went and added some more pasta to the pot of bolognaise she had on slow cook. She set out another plate, grabbed two glasses and her opened bottle of red from the shelf. "Dinner's ready!" she called down the hall.

His eyes were rimmed red when he took his seat at the table. Helen pretended not to notice as she placed a bowl of spaghetti bol in front of him. "I must have known I was going to have a visitor," she said with a laugh. "For some reason I cooked more than usual."

"Thanks." Rob hung his head and focused on the food in front of him.

"Would you like a glass of wine with it?" Helen reached for a goblet and filled it. She put it in front of him and topped up her own. "It's very smooth. Perfect with Italian." When he looked up at her she raised her glass and indicated for him to follow. "So cheers." Helen tapped her glass to his and added, "To life and all it throws at us."

Rob gave her a smile and downed the whole glass in one gulp.

"Whoa!" Helen guffawed. "Red isn't meant to be sculled."

"Sorry." Rob wiped the back of his hand across his mouth, picked up his knife and fork, held them either side of his bowl for a moment, and then put them back on the table. "Aunt Helen," he said as he looked over at her. "I've done a terrible thing."

*****

She sat and let him pour his heart out, murmuring at the appropriate times, patting his hand at others and remaining silent when it was necessary. The food had gone cold but Helen wasn't concerned about that. Her poor nephew. She'd heard some sad stories during her time and had offered the narrators advice or helped out where she could but, she'd never seen any man this distraught in her whole life.

"Rob... oh... Rob." Helen got up, rushed around the table and cradled him gently. He clung to her so tight that the love she had for him gushed from her. "It's okay, Rob," she crooned as she rocked backwards and forwards. "It's all going to be okay."

When he settled Helen stepped back, grabbed a chair, sat, and then took a hold of his hands. With a smile she said, "I promise you it's all going to be okay."

"B...but...I've ruined my career. My life."

"Oh, honey." Helen put her hand to the side of his face. "You haven't. I promise that you haven't. Forward is where your future lies. You just have to find it." She stood and pulled him to his feet. "You go and have a shower. I'll clear this away and make us a cup of tea. We'll sit in the lounge, watch a funny movie and tomorrow after a good night's sleep, I'll tell you why I can make such a promise."

Scull/Sculled – to down a drink quickly.

The Scandinavian drinking toast Skol! was adopted by the Scots in the early 1600s and spelt in various ways – skole or scoll or skoal – until the spelling in British English finally settled down as skol. The Australian innovation has been to change the vowel sound and arrive at the spelling . The first evidence for this spelling that I can find is in the description of a student competition in the early 1980s. Taken from the Macquarie Dictionary Blog and copyright belongs to them.

Photo copyright - Alamy Stock.