by Nicole Trope
‘It will be the greatest thing that has ever happened to us,’ Greg had enthused and he had been right. Daniel was the greatest thing that ever happened to her. She had never felt so much love, but having a child had not changed who Greg was. He had, instead, become more controlling, more prone to outbursts and more emotionally manipulative.
She thinks a simple lunch with Connor was the turning point for her. She knows that the afternoon she met her brother at an Italian restaurant was the afternoon that changed everything.
‘Do you want a glass of wine?’ Connor had asked as they sat down.
‘I would love…’ Megan had begun and then she had thought about Greg noticing the smell of wine on her breath, even though she knew she would brush her teeth straight away when she got home. She had imagined him sneering, ‘How nice that some people get to have long lunches and piss away their days while I work my arse off.’
‘No thanks,’ she had said to Connor. He had shrugged his shoulders and ordered a glass for himself. They had shared a salad to begin with. Connor’s pasta had arrived soon afterwards but Megan’s had not. ‘Just start, I’m sure mine will be along soon.’
‘It’s two orders of pasta, how hard can it be to get them out here together? Let me call our waiter.’ Connor had raised his hand to summon the waiter and Megan had felt herself shrink in her chair. ‘Don’t make a fuss, Con, it’s not a big deal.’
Megan had looked down at her hands while her brother had spoken to the waiter, feeling herself flush. The waiter was a young man with thick forearms and a tattoo on his wrist. When Connor had finished speaking, she’d looked up at him and given him what she hoped was an ingratiating smile. She hadn’t wanted him to be angry.
After he’d left, her brother had looked at her and given his head a slow shake. ‘What was that about, Megs?’
‘What? What do you mean?’
‘It looked like you were scared of him. He’s a waiter who’s paid to take our orders and get our food here at the right time. Why would you be afraid of him?’
‘I just don’t like people to be upset. I didn’t feel like the confrontation.’
‘It’s his job and he messed up. You would have been the first one to call him over and tell him to get his arse in gear before…’
‘Before what, Connor?’
He’d forked some pasta into his mouth. Megan could see him buying time.
‘Before you married that arsehole,’ he’d said when he had swallowed.
‘He’s not…’ Megan had started saying, treading her familiar path of justifying and defending her husband’s behaviour. But something had stopped her, and instead she had looked at her brother, letting herself, for the first time, be honest. ‘I don’t know what to do, Con, it’s just so awful.’
The conversation that followed had started Megan down the track to divorce and to her finding her voice again.
She knows that this baby will be different because Michael is so very different. This baby will only bring joy. If I don’t lose it, if it’s healthy, if the amniocentesis comes back with the all clear. If, if, if. It will be fine, everything’s fine. Hang in there, little one.
As she runs, Megan looks left and right at houses filled with swing sets and children’s toys. She notices bicycles abandoned on lawns and hears a baby crying its parents awake. She cannot quite believe that she is here again, in this place of hope and delight. She cannot believe it and she feels guilty about it, but then everything that has happened to her this year has an aura of guilt around it.
She and Michael have begun looking for houses. ‘But what if he tries to find me again? How will he know where I am?’
‘Megan, wherever we land up, our new address will be on every single database around the world. All he has to do is walk into any police station and tell them who he is, and they will find you.’
Her son has lived apart from her for nearly half his life. She wonders if he remembers her at all, hopes he does, hopes he doesn’t. Megan thinks about what kind of child he would be now. Does he play a musical instrument? Does he roll his eyes like Olivia says Max does whenever Greg asks him to do something? Is he starting to go through puberty? Would I know him if I saw him? Would he know me?
Back at home, feeling somewhat rejuvenated after her run, Megan showers and opens her laptop.
‘Thinking of you, babe,’ Sandi has written in a message. ‘Only one week to go until you change your life forever. Maybe it won’t hurt so much to have lost him anymore.’
‘Oh, Sandi, it can never stop hurting. We both know that. Thanks for thinking of me xx,’ she types for Sandi to read when she’s back online.
‘Thinking of you today, as always,’ Tom has written. She notices that he’s online now.
‘Thanks, Tom. How are you?’ She and Tom have not spoken for a few months and she is surprised to hear from him. She had messaged him on the anniversary of Jemima’s disappearance and received no acknowledgement or reply. She’d thought he was done speaking to her.
‘I’m okay. Doing what I do, you know. I’m trying to get back into dating like you suggested.’
‘I’m glad, Tom.’
‘I don’t know, it feels like I’m giving up hope of seeing Jemima again if I move on with my life. I don’t want to move on without her.’
‘But you’re not. All you’re doing is trying to live your life. You’re not going to stop looking.’
‘Will you ever stop looking?’
‘You know the answer to that, Tom – no, I will never stop looking.’
‘What if you have another child?’
‘I don’t think having another child stops you loving your first child. Nothing will ever make me stop wanting him to come home to me.’
‘So, are you planning to have another kid?’
Megan sighs and looks around her apartment. She doesn’t feel like having this conversation right now, doesn’t want to have to lie about being pregnant, and she is certainly not going to admit to Tom that she is.
‘Right now, all I’m planning to do is get married. I don’t know what the future holds for me but I have to hope that one day Daniel will be home. It’s what I hope for every day and what I will keep hoping for. Oh, there goes my phone. Sorry, I have to go. Thanks for thinking of me. Speak soon. X.’
She watches the screen for a minute and finally Tom’s message appears.
‘Hope you have an easy day. x.’
Getting off the couch, she goes to Daniel’s room and sits on his bed. She smooths the sheets and pillow with her hands, touching where he once touched. Everything has remained the same: still, silent and waiting for the child who is meant to be there to return. The room has such a sad, empty feel it makes it hard to breathe. She closes her eyes, imagines her little boy standing in front of her. She cannot stop the words escaping her mouth, feeling compelled to speak to him. ‘I wish you could be here to watch me get married, Daniel. I would love you to meet Michael and get to know him. I miss you so much but I have to take a step or two forward, I just have to. I hope that when you come home, you understand. I love you, my beautiful boy. I will never stop looking for you. Never.’
She picks up his Billy Blanket and hugs it to her. It no longer smells of her son but she conjures up his face and tries to imagine him feeling her arms around him, her cheek next to his. When the tears come it feels as though they will never end, but finally she shakes herself and stands up. ‘Enough now,’ she tells herself, conscious of the little life inside her.
Her phone rings with her mother’s usual call and Megan answers quickly. ‘Hi, Mum, I’m doing okay.’
Thirty-Four
Daniel – eleven years old
Daniel crouches in the bush, listening for the click buzz of the cricket he is trying to find. His shirt is thin and too short for him so he’s feeling cold but he doesn’t want to go back into the house for a jumper. He’s wearing flip-flops because they’re cheap. Dad always shakes his head and says, ‘Where do you think the money comes from,
Daniel,’ when he tells him his shoes hurt, so it’s easier just to wear flip-flops. It won’t be that easy to do in winter when it’s really cold, but it’s okay for now. He looks down at the phone Dad has given him. It’s nearly two o’clock and Dad said he would be back by three at the latest and that he wanted Daniel to finish the maths work he’d set out for him.
His father won’t let him go back to school again. Not after he told Victoria his mother wasn’t really dead. Victoria had been his first friend in years and years and Daniel had made the mistake of forgetting the rules. Dad had been really, really angry. Victoria had told her mother and her mother had told another mother and someone had told the principal of the school and then his father had got a call.
Daniel had known it was all about to go wrong when the principal had called him into the office and Dad was there. He had to tell the principal he had been lying and his mother was really dead. Dad had taken him home right then, driven fast and angry, tyres squealing, and when they’d got home, he’d turned to Daniel and said, ‘You remember the rules, don’t you?’
Daniel had nodded and his father’s fist had flown through the air, a wasp looking to sting, and landed on his cheek. It had felt like an explosion inside his head. He’d had a big, black bruise on his face for over a week.
They’d had to leave that night, sneaking out in the dark and driving for days. ‘You’re never going to school again if you can’t remember the rules,’ his father had said. Leaving Victoria had made him feel awful; not being allowed to go to school again had made him feel worse. Now they’re here in Heddon Greta in a small shack with no heat and a broken stove.
‘Look what you made happen, Daniel,’ he’d said when they got here.
Daniel is trying to be good, to stay out of his way, to not complain or ask for anything because he doesn’t want to make him angry again.
He hears the leaves on the bush next to him rustle and thinks it may be the cricket whose green wings he spotted a few minutes ago, but then the bush rustles again and a wild rabbit darts out.
Daniel jumps and feels his heart race but then he laughs. He’ll tell his father about the rabbit. He looks down at his phone again. It’s very old but it has pictures from all the years he and his father have lived together. ‘If I let you have this, you can only call me – understand?’ he’d said and Daniel had understood. He isn’t going to break the rules again. It only has two sad little games on it but at least if something happens, he can call Dad.
Last night his father had shown him a picture on his computer of a blonde woman. ‘What do you think of her?’ he’d asked. Daniel had shrugged his shoulders.
‘She’s really nice, and she only lives in Newcastle. I might meet up with her one night.’
Daniel doesn’t like the idea of his father meeting another woman, liking another woman and maybe one day marrying her. What would happen to him? If his mother hated him, another woman would hate him too and then his father would send him to foster care.
He sighs and walks back to the house. He can’t let that happen. He’s not going into foster care no matter what.
In the shack he pulls on one of his father’s old jumpers and looks at his phone. He knows that he used to know his mother’s mobile phone number. He used to but not anymore.
‘It doesn’t matter,’ he says aloud as he hears the car pull up outside the shack. Nothing matters anyway.
Thirty-Five
Six and a half weeks since Daniel’s return
In the end, Megan doesn’t mention the photograph to Daniel.
‘He’s acting out,’ Eliza had said when she’d explained it. ‘The fact that he is expressing his anger is a good thing. If he can express it, he won’t allow it to fester. Be patient. You’ll get there.’
‘I suppose I would feel the same way,’ Michael had said when she’d told him. ‘We’re both watching him and that’s all we can do. Hopefully he gets rid of it on his own.’
So Megan tries not to worry, and over the next few days she has moments where she can see Daniel trying to fit into their family. He even asks her to teach him how to pick Evie up out of the cot so she feels safe. Evie loves being carried around by him and will spend her whole afternoon following him around, crawling after him into his room and even trying to get into the bathroom if he is in there.
‘Mum,’ calls Daniel from his room one afternoon.
‘What is it?’ Megan shouts from the kitchen. ‘I’m in the middle of cutting up the chicken.’
‘Can you come get Evie? She’s touching my stuff and I’m trying to do my homework.’ Megan realises she must have forgotten to close the gate that keeps Evie downstairs. Evie knows she has to turn around and go backwards down the stairs but she still needs help doing it so Megan is grateful that she’s made it safely to her brother’s room and stayed there.
She shakes her head and rinses off her hands. She goes into Daniel’s room, where Evie has pulled all his shoes out of his cupboard. ‘Come on, little girl,’ she says, picking up her daughter, ‘leave your big brother alone to do his work.’
‘Yeah,’ he says, ‘leave your big brother alone.’
Megan would like to jump for joy, but she bites down on her lip and goes back to the kitchen with Evie, giving her a rusk to chew on and putting on a short DVD.
‘It was like a normal family moment,’ she explains to Michael later, a smile on her face. ‘Like any other big brother irritated with a pesky little sister. I can’t even explain how wonderful it felt, as though everything had just clicked into place.’
The next day when she goes into his room to clean, she looks for the picture as she has done every day for a week and finds it gone. Her relief makes her cry.
‘Shall we go out for a walk, Evie?’ she asks her daughter, who is sitting next to her, her little hand clutching onto Megan’s pants as she loads the washing machine. It is an unusually mild August day. Daniel will be thirteen soon and Megan wonders if he would like a big party or a small family celebration. She picks Evie up, eager to get out of the house with her daughter. For the past week, a driving cold wind has battered at the house, forcing Megan to keep Evie indoors.
When she opens the front door, there is a young man standing outside holding a large arrangement of soft-pink roses. ‘Megan Kade?’ he asks, shifting the gum he is chewing to one side of his mouth.
‘I am.’ Megan smiles, knowing that Michael is fond of gestures like these.
‘Sign here.’
Megan closes the front door, leaving Evie in the pram as she takes the flowers to the kitchen. She searches for a vase and admires the beautiful arrangement that she will tell Michael tonight was unnecessary. They must have cost a fortune, especially at this time of year. When she finds the vase, she fills it with water and rests the bouquet inside, planning to arrange them properly when she and Evie get back from their walk. She catches sight of the little white card on the top and opens it, a smile playing on her lips until she reads the message.
I gave you every chance I could. Remember, Megan, this is on you. T
The words are shocking, cold, almost violating and Megan reaches for the kitchen counter, grabbing it. She rushes back to the front door and opens it, looking for the man who has delivered the flowers, but the street is empty. Who are they from? Who would send her flowers with a message like this? Who is angry enough at her to do this? Who is T? Could they be from Tom? The delivery man had called her Megan Kade – but Tom doesn’t even know her new surname because she hasn’t changed it on Facebook. He also doesn’t know where she lives. She blocked Tom weeks ago – has he been searching for her address all this time just so he could send this hideous message?
She shuts the door quickly and locks it. She cannot leave the house now. She feels like whoever sent the flowers is watching her, like they are somewhere close. She hauls a complaining Evie out of her pram and soothes her with a new toy she has been saving for when she wanted some time to herself. She needs time to think. How did Tom get her address?
What did the words mean? Was the man who delivered the flowers actually Tom? Is he in Sydney now? Has he been watching her all along?
She calls Michael, who doesn’t answer, and leaves him a voicemail, telling him it’s urgent, noting her trembling hands. As she waits for Michael to call back, she looks up Tom on Facebook but his account has been deleted. She types his full name, Thomas Gregory, into Google and finds millions of results. She searches for images of ‘Thomas Gregory’ and tries to find one that matches the man who delivered the flowers. If Tom sent the flowers, he would have had to give her address. She searches her memory for a time when she would have told him where she lived but cannot remember being specific, although she knows she talked about moving house.
Her mobile rings, announcing a call from Michael. ‘What’s up, babe?’
‘I think Tom sent me some flowers.’
‘Tom? Oh, Tom, the guy from Facebook? You said you unfriended him.’
‘I did and I think he’s upset or angry about it. I haven’t heard from him since but now he’s sent me flowers with this weird message on the card.’
‘What does it say?’
‘It says, “Remember, Megan, this is on you.”’
‘What does that mean?’
‘I don’t know, Michael, I’m really frightened. I’m sure he wasn’t happy that I’ve ended our relationship.’
‘No, I didn’t like you talking to him, but I thought he was harmless.’
‘He has our address, Michael. I’m really scared. Tell me what to do, what do I do?’
‘Okay, okay, let’s just calm down. We have to think this through logically. Give me his full name and I’ll see what I can do about finding him. Where does he live?’
