by Leanne Owens
‘They got the blood here faster than any of us expected so I wasn’t in danger for long at all,’ he told her while she looked at him impassively, her arms crossed in front of her chest, her foot tapping the white floor, rolling her eyes at his words. ‘My blood pressure is fine, I’m fine. I feel fine. There’s no need for me to stay in bed.’
‘A wonderful diagnosis,’ she said dryly. ‘Quite fine, in fact. But you’re still staying in overnight.’ Her light blue eyes showed determination as she faced him, refusing to budge on her stance to keep him under observation for the night.
‘Let me see Ally, at least.’
‘She’s not seeing anyone. She’s an ICU patient – my patient - at present and she’s not conscious, anyway. If she’s awake tomorrow, you can see her then.’ She glanced up at the five people standing silently at the door. ‘You have visitors of your own. Are you going to follow my rules or shall I send them away?’
Peter twisted around so that he could see his school friends and his face split into a grin, ‘They told me you were here. Sorry you arrived to all this.’
They waved at him and looked to the doctor for permission to enter the room. She shrugged and motioned them in. ‘If he tries to get out of bed, can one of you hit him for me?’
‘That’s my job,’ Lynette raised her hand to accept responsibility for the role, ‘I love giving Peter a good slap.’
The doctor snorted in amusement at Lynette’s words. ‘And use the buzzer to call me if you think he needs me.’
‘I’m not going to need you, Gina,’ Peter shook his head at her. ‘Everyone, this is Dr Gina McLeay. One of the best – and most annoying – doctors in Queensland. Gina, this is Lynette, Sandy and Andrew, and some ring-ins.’
‘Nick Carter,’ Nick offered his hand to the doctor, dazzling her with his smile, and giving Lynette’s heart a sharp pang. Anyone could see he was much more suited to a pretty, young, intelligent woman like Gina than her, but she was going to enjoy every minute of it while it lasted.
Marcus followed suit, offering up his name and hand.
‘I’ll leave you be,’ Dr McLeay looked reluctant to trust her patient with them. ‘I mean it – no getting out of bed.’
As soon as she left the room, Lynette and Sandy sat on the edge of the bed and gave him a hug and kiss. Sandy’s lips lingered on his cheek for a fraction of a second longer than Lynette’s, her hand hanging on to his after Lynette had released him. She blinked away tears as Peter brought his other hand up to pat her gently on the back in a brotherly fashion. Always the kind-hearted friend. Always.
Sandy withdrew her hand from his and slid to the end of the bed, making room for the men as Andrew hugged Peter and introduced the two Americans. She sat silent and serene, focussing on the view out the window and forcing herself to remain composed. It was difficult to fight the urge to take Peter in her arms and kiss him passionately, trying one last time to see if the fire that burned within her heart could ignite some spark in him.
Magazines called her one of the most beautiful women in the world. The Academy, BAFTA, directors, producers, her peers, and her fans thought she was one of the most accomplished actors of all time. Men of all ages adored her. She could have billionaires and some of the most desirable actors, musicians, politicians, and other high-profile figures in the world. She could have them all. They loved her. She was worthy of their love. And this aging Australian doctor whom she’d known since primary school rejected her. No, she realised, he didn’t reject her, as that would have implied some emotional action. No, he just loved her in a sexless, brotherly fashion against which there was no fighting.
Noticing Sandy’s withdrawal, Lynette moved closer to her and put a comforting arm around her shoulders. She knew. She understood that Sandy was hurting. Unrequited love was one of the great tragedies of the human condition.
‘Just think,’ Lynette whispered, her mouth against Sandy’s hair so that her voice carried to her ears and no further, ‘all that pain gave you the depth to put on those amazing performances which left us crying in our seats as we watched you. It’s been a big price to pay, I know, but it’s what helped create you.’
For a few seconds, Sandy leaned her head against Lynette, closing her eyes and absorbing the love from her friend which was a gentle balm to her wounded soul.
‘Thanks,’ Sandy unfolded from Lynette’s supporting hold and straightened, like a wilted flower placed back in water. ‘I should be used to it by now.’
‘How can we ever grow accustomed to these sorts of emotions?’ asked Lynette, her voice still low so that the men didn’t pick up on their conversation as they explained how Marcus and Nick fitted into the group. Her eyes were on Nick’s face as he described something about his jet to Peter. So handsome, she thought, so intelligent and kind, so everything, and I’ll take what I can, while I can, because I might not have time to become used to these emotions.
‘Stop smooching, you two,’ Peter nudged them with his foot from under the bed covers, and turned to Nick. ‘These girls are always hugging and giggling when they get together. It's like they’re still fourteen.’
Lynette leaned towards him and gave his thigh a light punch through the sheets, mindful of the fact that he was in a hospital bed, ‘And I can still kick your butt like we’re fourteen if you want to give us too much cheek.’
‘Lovely words coming from Dr Morrison of the New Green World Order,’ he teased.
‘Oh, God, did you see that headline?’ she grimaced, wrinkling her nose at him. Various newspapers had recently run a cover story about her campaign for safe alternative energies, with a photo of her in front of a banner that had the word ‘Green’ scribbled over the main heading of ‘New World Order’. As always, she was a little embarrassed by the public recognition that focussed on her rather than her work.
‘Had it framed. It’s on my office wall along with other bits and pieces about you three,’ his gaze swept across his three school friends, pride in his eyes. ‘It’s great to see you together again.’
‘Nick and I might go and get coffee and leave you four to catch up,’ said Marcus, feeling that Andrew and his friends needed some time without outsiders.
‘Nonsense,’ Sandy waved away his suggestion. ‘You and Nick are in this with us. You’ll probably have a much better perspective than us, anyway, so don’t you dare go anywhere. You can give us a fresh view of Ally. A fresh view of all of us, really.’
‘Agreed,’ said Lynette, ‘so just sit tight, strap yourselves in, and hang on, because I figure we’re going to have a helluva ride as we catch up on Ally’s life.’
‘Guys, I’m sorry - I feel so damned guilty that I didn’t stop what happened today,’ Peter rubbed a hand over his eyes, trying to remove the images of Ally lying on the grass, bleeding out, telling him that Zo was waiting for her. ‘I had staff on security watch, keeping an eye on her every minute of the day, and somehow she slipped by everyone and…’ His voice caught with a choking sound and he stopped.
‘Ally always was brilliant at getting what she wanted, Pete,’ Andrew placed a hand on his friend’s shoulder. ‘Look at what she achieved with us. Put the guilt away and let’s just plan on getting her better.’
‘She’s still obsessing over that fantasy world. And Zo. She won’t accept any help to put that part of her life behind her. Before she slipped into unconsciousness this morning, she said he was waiting for her and then… then she said he was there.’ His voice choked on the words and he looked from one to the other of his friends, his eyes reflecting the anguish he felt at seeing the woman he loved dying for a delusion. ‘She said it as though he really was there, as though she could see him. I just don’t know how to bring her back to the real world…I don’t know what to do.’
Squeezing Peter’s shoulder in a show of support for his friend, Andrew sighed. ‘I’ve had a good think about it since you rang yesterday. How about we stop trying to make her feel as though Zo is part of a delusion? What if we accept that part of her,
like she accepted everything about us? Sure, it’s a bit of a wart growing on her face, but let’s just accept it instead of trying to remove it. She didn’t change us by pointing out what was wrong with us - she changed us by believing in every part of us and making the good better.’
‘And the better best,’ smiled Lynette, remembering the primary school saying that they had to write out scores of times as a writing exercise. ‘He’s right, Peter. We always tried to stop her talking about that man because we saw it as a sign of mental illness. It made us uncomfortable to see her as a little bit loony, but let’s see him as a part of who she is and get her talking. You know, when I consider how much of her life she has wasted on this fantasy man, I find that I want to hear the story of Zo. Why has she obsessed over him for so long?’
‘I want to know, too,’ Sandy looked at each of her friends. ‘From the very start. She once told me that she first met him when she was in primary school, before she became your friend, Peter. Before she became my friend. Her make-believe friend has been a part of her life longer than any of us. I’ve never thought of him without my attitude tainted by the fear of mental illness. I want the chance to think of him as her friend, someone I can get to know. I want to have enough faith in her to accept her imaginary friend as real, because he’s real to her.’
Peter listened carefully to the words, nodding, and letting them sink in before he spoke. ‘He’s been more real to her than we have been these past few decades. When I found her,’ he hesitated and took a deep breath as though the memories gave him pain, ‘she was living in a rundown cottage, alone. Clippings about us – all of us - covered the walls. She had all your movies, Sandy, and every article written by us or about us. We were clippings on the wall, but he was her life.’
‘Did she think he was there with her?’ Andrew asked, trying to get an understanding of how Ally saw life.
‘No, nothing like that. It wasn’t as though she was walking around talking to him like some dotty old woman. Her imagined world doesn’t overlap with this one - she’s not seeing Zo here in Australia in her life. She closes her eyes and pictures herself in his world and his time. She says she lives two lives, this one and the other one.’
He paused and shook his head sadly, ‘I don’t really understand it, but then I only ever focused on trying to remove the fantasy, not comprehend it. When I found her, she said he’d died in that other life, and she couldn’t stop grieving for him – then and now.’
‘So, he was alive when she was with us, but dead when you found her?’ Lynette narrowed her eyes trying to get her head around what Peter was saying. ‘Even though she said he’s always been dead?’
‘She said he died over twenty years ago, or in 1492 in his timeline. So, she’s had two decades without him in his world and in this, and she couldn’t take it any longer. She said she couldn’t live without him anymore. Apparently, when he died in her fantasy, it was like he really died, and she didn’t have him in her life at all. The only way I found her was because she was hospitalised for attempted suicide and, by pure luck, one of the attending doctors was a friend who recognised her from a photo I’d shown him last year. No one can forget those violet eyes once they’ve seen them. She wasn’t calling herself Ally Lamore, so that hadn’t helped. I don’t really understand it, and I probably didn’t encourage her to explain it, even though she wanted me to know. I didn’t want her to go on living in that alternate reality.’
‘Can you see some benefit in having her talk to us about it as though it is real, though?’ asked Lynette, ‘I’m no expert in psychiatry - is it likely to make her any worse than she already is?’
‘She was basically pronounced dead by my staff today,’ Peter shrugged. ‘How much worse can it be? They only went to work on saving her because I said they’d lose their jobs if they didn’t. I’m all for trying something different. I’ve failed miserably doing it this way. I nearly lost her today, and we still don’t know if she’ll recover.’
‘She will,’ Andrew declared. ‘We won’t allow anything else. Ally always said that sheer belief could change the world.’
‘So, no more stress now,’ Lynette gave Peter a motherly pat on the bed covers on his leg. ‘We have a plan. When Ally is well enough to talk to us, we’re going to wrap her life up safely as though we’re all bits of bubble wrap, and then we’ll get her talking.’
A look of torment washed through Peter’s eyes. ‘What if she tries to kill herself again?’
‘She won’t,’ Lynette spoke with resolve. ‘Nick pointed out that if Zo was real, he wouldn’t want her to kill herself. He hasn’t even met Ally but he worked that out. I think he’s right. We’ll use that to make sure she doesn’t try anything like this again.’
‘She said he was waiting for her,’ said Peter, still unable to comprehend Ally’s mental state.
‘And he didn’t keep her, did he?’ Nick pointed out. ‘If he was waiting for her and he wanted her to be with him while she was that close to death, she wouldn’t have come back. But she did. He doesn’t want her to die. Even though I haven’t met her, and I don’t understand much about this Zo, I do know she’ll listen to that.’
‘I hope you’re right,’ Peter closed his eyes for a few seconds, deep in thought as he weighed up the option of entering Ally’s fantasy. Could it cause more problems than she was currently facing? He couldn’t see how it could be any worse, and perhaps talking it over with them would help. When he opened his eyes, there seemed to be some optimism in their depths. ‘If she’s up to it tomorrow, she can start telling us the whole story – all of it – from the beginning…if she wants to. All the things we refused to listen to before. All the details we avoided and ran from because we couldn’t accept her having a mental disorder. While we avoided her stories about Zo, we didn’t have to face that possibility. Maybe it’s time we all met Zo.’
Marcus cleared his throat, unsure whether to add something that had occurred to him while they were talking. ‘Is there any chance that it’s true?’
Five faces swivelled to stare at him.
He gave them the benefit of his sparkling whites in a self-effacing smile as he explained himself. ‘I’m not a theoretical physicist, of course, but I have friends who are. An evening with them involves debates about parallel universes, string theory, worm holes, time travel, that sort of thing. What if she has accessed a parallel universe?’
‘Not possible,’ Peter shook his head emphatically, then shrugged and modified his answer. ‘Well, not likely. She’s said that this other world is fifteenth century Florence. This world, this universe, just a different time.’
‘Just,’ snorted Andrew. He knew time was a moment forever moving forward. There was no way to visit another time. The imaginary world that Ally’s mind created was not anything worth considering scientifically. They could try to accept the fantasy as part of her reality, but they could not view it as reality.
Marcus tilted his head in recognition of the unspoken objections to believing the imagined world in Ally’s mind, but he wanted them to consider possibilities, no matter how unlikely. ‘Most of my science friends consider time travel as beyond our physical abilities, partly because the energy it would take to move any mass through time would exceed all the energy we had access to, and partly because of all the paradoxes that are caused by altering anything in time. You all know the common one – if I travelled back in time and killed my grandfather before he had children, then I wouldn’t be born, so I couldn’t travel back in time to kill him. So, if I travelled back in time, either it would be impossible to do anything that would change the future or, if I did change things, like kill my own grandfather, then perhaps it would cause a whole new universe to form, or lock me into a loop in time.’
The others nodded, understanding that concept of time, but not seeing how it related to Ally.
‘But one idea did have merit, and it came up again and again. Maybe we can’t push mass through the time barrier, but what if we could push something that d
idn’t have mass? Like thought. What if our thoughts existed independently of the mass of our brains, and they travelled through time? A few movies and tv shows played around with the idea - leave the body in the present and send the mind back in time to temporarily inhabit someone else’s mind. Perhaps your thoughts could move through time and observe through someone else’s life without changing anything. That leaves the time continuum unchanged without the I killed my own grandfather paradox, and it would mean that someone could experience two lives.’
Peter nodded slowly as he digested that idea, his expression showing that he was not convinced. ‘And did they seriously think it was possible?’
‘They didn’t wipe it off as impossible. Theoretically speaking, if there was an energy force, the equivalent of what we think of as a soul, that could exist without mass outside the physical body, then it might be possible to send that energy through time or, perhaps, into a parallel universe which intersects ours at all times, so that you could enter it at one time and exit at another. Moving mass through space and time barriers is difficult, no matter how we look at it, but look how easily a beam of light moves through space compared to any vehicle or space ship we can build. If light can move so easily through space, could something that’s even less tangible than light, such as thoughts, also move through time?’
Lynette frowned, thinking of all the times she had worried that Ally was losing her mind, and here was Marcus saying that her nonsense about living two lives was a possibility his science friends had discussed. If scientists could buy into the foundation of her madness, was it so difficult for her to try and accept it? ‘So, if we get her to talk about this, are you thinking that we should try and accept the notion that it could be real? That she knew this man in the 1400s?’
