"You know I'm a Melbourne girl, Connie. I don't know much about cyclones. You're from Cairns, though. You must know more than me."
"I hate them. They're just so scary."
"Do they normally come down this far south? I've never heard of one hitting the Sunshine Coast with any force."
"Me neither. Isn't it too early for cyclones anyway? It's only November."
"Maybe it'll just be a severe storm then. Anyway, you're in charge."
"In charge? Of what?"
"Of storm/cyclone preparation. You've lived through them. Make a list. Educate us."
"But..."
"But what?"
"I don't know much. Mum and Dad used to take care of everything. And the babies..."
"Still — you know more than I do. Listen, Luke and I will have to go outside and secure everything we can. We'll have to put the animals somewhere safe. While we're doing that, we'll need you to be looking after stuff here. Don't we have to tape up windows or something? Store fresh water? I know you're busy with the girls, but I'll come in and help as soon as I can. "
"Um...yeah, okay."
"Great, hop to it." Meg saw Luke walking past the house. "Oi, Luke. C'mon, I need your muscles."
By nightfall they had secured everything as best they could. Connie was struggling to reach high enough to tape some of the windows, so Luke helped. They ran out of tape before all the glass was secured, but the weather was already closing in, so there was no chance to drive anywhere to get more.
They ate a light dinner, and then sat in the living room, round-eyed, listening to the wind, which was increasing in speed rapidly.
Meg clapped her hands. "Well, there's only one thing to do on a night like this."
Connie was getting paler by the minute. "What?"
"Break out the Monopoly board of course — and play some soothing music."
"You sound just like my parents did when cyclones came. I'll get the board."
They played two full games before conditions got so bad that they couldn't concentrate any more.
"I think the noise was the worst thing. If you could imagine having the engines of a big jet, like a 747 right outside your door — then you'd get some idea.
There was another sound that we could hear from time to time. I realised it was the vegetation being spun around in a vortex, which caused me to feel like I was caught in a giant washing machine.
Then came the calm eye of the storm, which we still found stressful, because it meant we were only halfway through the horror.
I heard some veranda roofing being ripped from the beams but figure that will be the least of our problems. What about our solar panels?
At least the house itself hasn't suffered any major damage. We managed to stay snug and safe. Thankfully the children mostly slept through the whole ordeal. We stayed with them in their room through the worst of it, just in case we had to snatch them up and move elsewhere.
When the worst was over we stumbled into bed, knowing that there would still be strong winds and a lot of rain to contend with.
I had a feeling through the worst of the storm, and it was similar to how I felt while driving through the bushfires. It is hard to explain, but... well... it was like something malevolent was trying to get at us. There were similarities in the two situations — bushfires aren't meant to occur in May, and this cyclone was unusual for this time of year, and certainly this far south. Again it felt like a battle between good and evil.
And I just realised that, when the three brothers came to do us harm, I had a similar feeling. There seems to be one guiding presence or whatever that does good, and then another force that seems intent on harm. But we've survived.
I'm rambling. It's been a big night. I'd better get some sleep now."
Although the roof of the house was covered in slippery leaves and other vegetation, her concern about the solar panels had led Meg to climb a ladder and inspect them. Luke waited below, holding the ladder and awaiting instructions.
Meg swept her gaze across the panels and found they were all still in one piece, without cracks or other damage. She crouched down and inspected the frames that held the panels in place, and they too seemed unaffected. She shook her head in disbelief and felt blessed that the people who owned the house and installed the solar energy system obviously invested heavily in the products and materials used.
From her vantage point she could see the vanes of the electricity-generating windmills. One was turning unevenly — something had bent — but she was clueless about how to fix it.
Standing in high places was something Meg enjoyed. She took a deep breath and performed a three-hundred-and-sixty degree turn. She was certain that the air quality was improving constantly, now that there were few humans to spoil it. She saw some damage in adjoining properties from the cyclone, but nothing too serious.
She had nearly completed her turn when she saw something lying on the driveway, right down near the entrance. It looked to Meg like a bundle of rags, but when she looked again, she saw skin. It was a person.
Moving gingerly to the edge of the roof, she called down to Luke. "I'm coming down — there's a person down by the road."
Finding the rungs to move backward down the ladder seemed to take ages. As soon as she hit the ground, she started running down the washed-out driveway. Rain had begun to fall heavily, and she skidded in the mud. She could see soaking wet jeans and a white shirt on a tall figure. She slid to a stop and crouched down, moving the heavy body until she could see the face. It was Derek.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
"Quick, grab him under the arms, I'll take his legs."
Transferring Derek to the house was slippery and heavy work. Twice they had to lay him back on the ground and find a better way of holding him. Meg hadn't realised how steep the driveway was until she was forced to carry a heavy load all the way to the top. The rain was streaming from the skies as though from a high-pressure hose.
As they approached the house, Meg realised the front door was closed.
"Hey Connie! Connie! Quickly, we need help. At the front door!"
They heard quick footsteps, and then the door swung inward.
"What...?"
"It's Derek. He's unconscious. Help us get him onto my bed."
The white doona cover and sheets became smeared with mud as they lay Derek down and began stripping the wet clothes from him.
As Connie touched his skin, she flinched. "He's freezing!"
Meg put a hand to his forehead and found she was right. It was like he'd been taken from a freezer before being dumped on their driveway.
"Quickly, let's get all these clothes off. God, his boots are full of water!"
It took tremendous effort to remove first the elastic-sided boots, and then the socks that were difficult to peel from his skin. She handed them to Luke to take outside.
"Connie, we're going to have to strip him right down. You might prefer to go and turn the kettle on for the hot-water bottles."
"Yup — I'll find some more blankets as well."
Meg peeled more clothing from the freezing man and manoeuvred him and the bed-clothing until he was between sheets with the doona on top. As Luke came back into the room, she asked him to lie on top of the bed near Derek to keep him warm. She did the same from her side. As Connie began to ferry the hot-water bottles in, they placed them around him.
"Connie, can you take Luke's place? We need him outside to keep the important clean-up stuff going."
The two women lay there for another half an hour and when Maisie came to the door to see what was going on, Meg got her to lie there as well. Still the man didn't warm up.
"I don't get it, Connie. What is it? Extreme shock? Hypothermia? I've never seen anything like it."
The younger woman felt Derek's face and shook her head.
"Anyway, I have to go now and help Luke. How about I bring the kids in here and set you up with a good book? Thomas can sit on the bed, too. The two little ones — well I
can put them on the floor with blankets under them. Is that okay?"
"I guess so..."
Maisie and Thomas took their duties on the bed seriously. They were unusually well-behaved, the stranger in their midst causing some concern. Strangers didn't come to their house often.
"He's been here before, kids. He was very good to you, especially you, Thomas. Whenever he held you to his chest you used to go all quiet and happy." Both children listened to Connie's words with great seriousness.
"And just think Connie, when he gets well, you'll have a paediatrician on hand. How good is that?"
By nightfall there had been no improvement in his condition. Hot soup met with unresponsive lips, and he hadn't moved from the position they had first placed him. Meg searched the pockets of his jeans for clues to where he'd been, but they yielded no clues.
She swapped positions with Connie, who needed to wash and feed the children before settling them into bed. Luke cooked spaghetti bolognese, which was eaten on trays in the bedroom. Maisie and Thomas came in for one more look before bedtime, creeping in on tip-toes and speaking in exaggerated whispers. Then they ran giggling in to bed.
When the house fell silent and Luke and Connie had gone to bed, Meg settled herself on top of the bed covers with a book. She woke after a few hours and, feeling uncomfortable in her clothes, stripped down to underwear and climbed in to bed.
She woke to movement next to her. Derek had turned on to his side and was pressing his cold body against hers. At first she thought he was seeking her warmth, but then she felt his erection against her leg. He was moving urgently and sliding around between her thighs.
Meg's body reacted instinctively and she felt herself swelling and opening. God, it had been so long! She felt him guiding himself into her from behind, and she was ready for him, but still felt a shock from his coldness in contrast to her wet warmth.
He moved urgently, holding her body tightly against his. In a couple of minutes it was over and he rolled back onto his back. He was unconscious again, or had he been all along?
Not a word had been spoken during those few, hectic minutes. She lay awake for some time, remembering how it had been between them in those weeks he had stayed with them, the easy camaraderie they shared while tackling jobs, the quiet steadiness of the man. She remembered the gentleness he displayed with Thomas, the elegance with which he would undo the tiny baby’s clothing. Eventually she fell back to sleep.
She felt Derek leave the bed and moved slightly until she could watch him walk naked out of the bedroom into the living area. He was moving slowly and clumsily, not his normal graceful self. She wondered about what injuries he was carrying. Figuring he was headed to the bathroom, she wriggled back under the covers.
There was a crack of light bleeding through the curtain. It was muted, and she could hear the rain still pouring down. She thought their next job might be to build an ark and load animals on to it, two by two by two. She laughed at her own joke and thought she should tell Derek.
She was happy — aware of herself sexually for the first time in years. She had been left unsatisfied, of course, but she had a heady feeling of anticipation when thinking about how that could be remedied. She was so glad Derek was up and walking around. It spoke well of a recovery.
She strained to hear noises from the bathroom and wondered why he hadn't used the ensuite. Connie would faint if she saw him walking naked through the house. His clothes were still damp on the clothes line, though. Perhaps he'd wrap a towel around himself when he came back.
More time passed and Meg still hadn't heard any sounds. What if he'd collapsed in the bathroom? This thought made her climb quickly into her robe and head toward the bathroom.
The door was open and there was nobody inside. Meg frowned and began searching the house. One of the glass doors was slightly ajar, the rain blowing in onto the tiled floor. Just a small amount of water, which meant it hadn't been open long.
His clothes were still hanging limply on the clothesline under the verandah. The outbuildings were all shut tight.
There was a golf umbrella beside the door. Raising it she went outside, and, as she rounded the front of the house, looked in horror at the floodwaters that had appeared overnight. They were surrounded by swirling brown water — totally cut off. But where was Derek?
He was injured, naked, and sick. He had also totally disappeared.
"Gone?" Connie’s mouth was open and an exaggerated frown crumpled her brow. "Gone? How do you mean..."
"Disappeared. Totally."
"So what did he tell you? What did he say?"
"Nothing. He didn't say anything."
"What, not a word?"
"Shit, Connie. That's what nothing means. Nothing!" She was almost shouting.
Connie closed her mouth — the lips spread into a thin line.
"Sorry. I'm upset. I don't understand either."
"So…what can we do?"
"Dunno. The conditions are too severe to begin searching." Meg felt tears welling. She felt Connie's hand on her arm.
"I'm the one who should be sorry. I know you wanted him to stay."
Meg turned quickly and walked out.
"How can I describe how I feel? I was so happy, so relieved he'd come back. I had something to look forward to — helping him recover and then spending time with him. It's twice as bad now — my disappointment. Worse because I just don't understand it.
This is causing such anger in me. I could have slapped Connie yesterday — slapped the young mother of four children. I'm frustrated and angry and pissed off — just so pissed off.
What would Angela do? Suddenly I don't know and what's more, I don't care.
It's not so much that I feel used and discarded — more just sad and puzzled. No, I do feel used and discarded, and I reckon this is left over from what Richard and Craig did to me. The sense of abandonment and shock I felt on both those occasions still lies just under my skin. Like shingles waiting to erupt.
The way Richard told me we were over was classic bastardry. He rang one Friday morning from work and told me to hire a babysitter. We were going out for dinner, just the two of us. I was so excited! I didn't make the same mistake as the time we were going to the Christmas party. This time I found a sitter who could come from midday so I could spend all afternoon getting ready! I knew of a salon that did both hair and make-up and they spent hours on me. I even had a manicure and French polish. The girls in the salon advised me on the choice of an outfit, and I even purchased matching shoes and a nice necklace. I made sure Richard had no cause for complaint this time.
The strange thing was he didn't even seem to notice how good I looked. He was distracted. We went to a bistro that was upmarket — busy and noisy. He kept filling my champagne glass, almost insisting I drink quickly. Why didn't I realise what this was leading to? Because I was bloody naive, that's why. I'd spent years engrossed in my role of mother, and knew little of how things worked.
He asked how the refurbishment of my grandmother's house was going — how long before it would be liveable. I was happy he was taking an interest in it, and spent twenty minutes or so filling him in on all the details. He looked impatient and asked the same question again. I said that I'd probably put tenants in it in a few weeks and perhaps I'd start talking to rental agencies on the Monday. He said, "No, don't do that." When I asked why not, he came out with it.
He was in love with someone else. He couldn't be without her. My first question, obviously, was who? He waved his hand distractedly and said "Lucy", but gave no more details. He went on to say that he and I would divorce and he wanted the house. I could move into my grandmother's place. We would share custody of the children. He wouldn't support me — he was not required to by law — and I'd have to get a job and support myself.
He wouldn't even wait for my house to be finished. He would rent a townhouse for six weeks and put me in that. His new woman, Lucy, was to move into our family home almost immediately.
What c
an I say about how I felt at that time? I remember the sensation of blood draining from my head. I thought I would faint. The room darkened. A waiter came up and asked if I was all right. I just nodded. Then the tears started welling.
I remember Richard looking around the restaurant in embarrassment and suggesting I go to the bathroom to compose myself. I did this meekly, but once I was in there, and saw how good I looked, I felt stronger. I wasn't going to let him tell me what to do anymore. He'd just forfeited that right.
I went back to our table, lifted the edge of the cloth and watched all the dishes and drinks spill onto his lap. I loved seeing the range of emotions cross his face as he realised what was happening. I told him we could start the shared custody agreement that night. He could go home and look after the children because I was going out. Then I strode out of the restaurant with my head held high.
My newfound strength did not last long. I didn't know where to go. I walked until I found an upmarket looking bar and ordered a drink. Then another. No one approached me, or even noticed me for that matter.
I caught a cab into the city and checked into one of the best hotels. I had nothing with me, of course; no makeup remover or hair equipment, not even any spare clothing. I drank a lot and contemplated suicide. That would teach him. Then I thought of my parents and my children and how that would hurt them. The next day I went home, and moved into the rented townhouse.
You see, it wasn't so much that he no longer wanted to be with me — I can see that it was partly my fault — I'd really let myself go and didn't realise how much until I became single again. I put too much effort into raising the children — I see that now. I thought Richard was an adult who could look after himself — that he'd see how hard I was trying for the sake of our children, when really he was like a child himself, needing attention just as much as Nicky and Emily. Our sex life suffered, too, once the kids came along.
Lucy gave him what he'd been missing. As well as that, she was lithe and leggy. She had hair that was silky and flowed down to her waist. She was young, with a body not traumatised by pregnancy and birth.
In Strange Worlds Page 13
