Lost Without You

by Rachael Johns

  Rebecca should have been overjoyed by this suggestion—she’d been wanting to go to Europe for years and more importantly, if Hugh wanted to go with her, it must mean he wanted to fix their problems—but it would probably take her a few days, maybe even weeks, to get over this disappointment.

  ‘Look,’ he said, ‘I’m really sorry, but I’m going to have to go. We’re about to start shooting something with the new environment minister and don’t you have to get to a dialysis appointment?’ It was a rhetorical question and he continued, ‘Try to look at the positives here and I’ll be home as early as possible, we can commiserate together then.’

  ‘Okay,’ she managed.

  ‘I love you, Rebecca,’ he said and then disconnected.

  Her heart and head were a whirlpool of emotions—he hadn’t said the L-word in days, but oh my, Paige! She was telling herself what was done was done (even if she didn’t like it), when the doorbell rang.

  What now? She dumped her phone on the table and headed for the front door. Whoever it was she’d get rid of them quick smart because Hugh was right, she had to be at the hospital soon.

  ‘Clara?’ she said when she saw Robbie’s ex-wife standing on the doorstep—she was possibly the last person she’d expected to see.

  ‘Hello, Rebecca.’

  Thoughts of Paige’s elopement were almost forgotten as Rebecca registered the dejected expression on the other woman’s face. ‘Oh my God,’ she blurted, ‘has something happened to Josie?’

  But even before Clara replied, Rebecca understood that this wasn’t a visit regarding her daughter. ‘Robbie?’ she whispered, sudden terror filling her heart.

  Clara nodded solemnly. ‘I’m sorry to be the bearer of bad news but we’ve just been informed by the police that Robert—or at least they’re pretty certain it’s him—has been found dead on a farm up north.’

  Only part of this sentence registered for Rebecca. ‘What do you mean they’re pretty certain it’s him? Is there a possibility it’s not? Has someone identified the body?’ Weren’t there hundreds of middle-aged missing men? It could be any one of them.

  ‘He hung himself, Rebecca.’

  Clara’s words were like a punch in the gut—Rebecca reached out to steady herself on the door.

  ‘At least a month ago now. The body will already be decomposing, so they’re going to use other methods to identify him, but his licence was with him, his bank cards, his description matched those on his missing persons profile.’

  ‘No,’ Rebecca whispered, unable to bear the image that had just formed in her head. Would she ever be rid of it?

  ‘I’m afraid so.’

  Clara looked as if she were fighting tears but Rebecca couldn’t hold hers back—it was like losing Robbie all over again, only this time she knew the heart-shattering truth. He’d taken his own life and she’d played a role in that decision.

  There were supposed to be seven stages of grief or something, but she felt all of them all at once. Along with the guilt came shock, disbelief and denial. How could this happen now when he’d been so close to getting what he wanted? Surely fate wasn’t that cruel. There was still a remote possibility the police had the wrong guy. The rage she felt for her parents intensified—Robbie may have only ended it a month ago, but they were the ones who started it over thirty-five years ago. She wondered if she would ever be able to speak to them again. And then there was a sadness so intense that she felt the pain of it all over her body. Her grip tightened on the door as she struggled to stay afoot.

  ‘Do you think you should sit down?’ Clara asked, both irritation and concern on her face.

  ‘Yes, good idea.’ Although, whether Rebecca could make it to the nearest chair she wasn’t sure. ‘Would you like to come in?’

  ‘No thanks,’ Clara said curtly, ‘but I suggest you have a strong sweet cup of tea to help the shock. I’ve got to go.’

  As Clara turned to do exactly this, Rebecca asked, ‘Does Josie know?’

  Clara turned back slowly. ‘Yes, we were at Brenda’s place about to film a segment on missing persons when the police turned up.’

  ‘Oh God.’ The thought of Josie being told there was no hope of ever finding her biological father intensified Rebecca’s own agony. There was probably no hope of salvaging any kind of relationship with her daughter now either—Josie would never forgive Rebecca for turning Robbie away all those years ago. And Rebecca couldn’t blame her; she would never forgive herself.

  ‘How’s she doing?’ she found herself asking even though she knew it was a stupid question.

  ‘She’s understandably upset, but trying to be strong for Brenda.’ Again Clara tried to leave, but this time, not only did Rebecca call out, she also reached out.

  ‘I’m so sorry,’ she said, sobbing as she grabbed hold of Clara’s arm and then pulled the other woman into a hug.

  She hadn’t been able to help herself and fully expected Clara to shake her off, but instead Rebecca felt arms close around her, a head sink onto her shoulder and the two of them stood there holding each other for quite some time.

  ‘You were as much a victim as he was,’ Clara acknowledged as they eventually broke apart.

  ‘Thank you,’ Rebecca whispered, her eyes still an ocean, as Robbie’s ex-wife finally made her getaway. She doubted they’d ever be friends, but they were weirdly bonded through their shared love and grief for the same man and the fact neither of their lives had turned out exactly as they’d hoped.

  As Rebecca went back into the house, she wondered what to do about Josie. Her instinct was to rush to her and take care of her as she would if Paige had suffered such a heart-blow, but she was under no illusions that Josie wanted that kind of relationship with her and she didn’t want to make things worse. She could send her a message, but sending such words of sympathy felt so cold, so impersonal.

  Still, she couldn’t just say or do nothing. It felt as if she were damned if she did and damned if she didn’t.

  And what about Paige? Should she and Sol be told about this? Perhaps Josie would message her or would she assume Rebecca would do the honours? As annoyed as she was about Paige and Sol getting married without her, they’d literally only tied the knot a few short hours ago—it didn’t seem right to interrupt their honeymoon with such news. She decided to ask Hugh about it when he got home and then her thoughts returned to Josie.

  Rebecca desperately wanted her to know she was thinking of her, but what could she do without making everything even worse?

  Finally, after a few long moments of contemplation, she had the answer.

  She could make a few meals for Josie, Clara and Brenda. Probably the last thing any of them felt like doing was cooking. Decision made, she opened the fridge to check she had all the ingredients necessary for casseroles.

  When Hugh returned to the house a few hours later, he found her dishing the last of them into throwaway foil containers. He frowned as he hung his keys on their special hook. ‘Shouldn’t you still be at dialysis?’

  ‘Oh shit!’ That had totally slipped her mind.

  ‘Did you skip your session because of Sol and Paige?’ He sounded annoyed. ‘I came home early to make dinner so you could put your feet up afterwards but,’ he nodded towards the rows of containers, ‘it looks like you’ve made enough for an army. I know you’re upset but you can’t just not go to the hospital.’

  He thought she was cooking to distract herself?

  ‘Oh, Hugh.’ She let the serving spoon fall into the casserole dish. ‘Robbie’s dead.’

  He stared at her a few moments—his expression dazed. Then he blinked. ‘What? Josie’s father, Robbie?’

  ‘Yes,’ she confirmed and then told him everything.

  ‘Fuck.’ Hugh rarely swore, saving his curse words for when they really mattered. She appreciated that now.

  ‘Yes. It’s all such a horrible mess.’

  ‘So, the cooking? Is that for …’

  ‘Josie and Brenda,’ she confirmed. ‘But I don�
��t know why I bothered to make it all; after Saturday and then today’s news, I’m the last person Josie probably wants to see right now.’

  She’d thought her tears had dried up but her eyes prickled again and she swayed a little, both dizzy and tired.

  ‘You don’t look so good,’ Hugh said, his brow furrowing in concern. ‘You should go lie down.’

  She wasn’t feeling so good. ‘But what about all this food? All this mess?’

  ‘I’ll deal with it,’ he said as he put his hands on her and guided her out of the kitchen. She didn’t know what he meant by that but was helpless except to lean against him as he ushered her down the hallway and up the stairs to their bedroom. He let go of her only long enough to pull back their doona and then he encouraged her into bed and covered her up like she were a sick child.

  ‘Get some rest.’ He leant forward and kissed her on the forehead.

  Mentally and physically exhausted, Rebecca was asleep before he’d even shut the door. When she woke hours later, Hugh was sitting in bed beside her, reading his book by lamplight.

  ‘What time is it?’ she asked.

  He put his book down and glanced at his watch. ‘Almost nine o’clock.’

  ‘At night?’ She felt so groggy she wondered if she’d slept until the morning.

  ‘Yes. How are you feeling?’

  And suddenly all the events of the day came back to her. Robbie. Paige and Sol. Josie.

  As if reading her mind, Hugh said, ‘I cleaned up the kitchen and took all the casseroles round to Josie’s place.’

  ‘You saw Josie?’ Her heart leapt into her throat. ‘How did you know where she lived?’

  ‘I called Paige and asked her for Josie’s address.’

  ‘Did you tell her?’

  ‘About Robbie?’ He nodded. ‘And I didn’t see Josie—she was staying the night with Robbie’s mother—but I met Nik, her husband, and he said to say thank you for all the food. I told him to give Josie our love and that either of them could call us any time if they needed anything.’

  Oh my goodness. Her heart brimmed with love for this man.

  He spoke again before she could say anything. ‘You must be hungry. I know it’s late, but can I cook you something or would you just prefer some toast and a cuppa?’

  Right now she didn’t need anything but him.

  ‘Hugh,’ she said, taking his hand as she looked right into his eyes. ‘I know Robbie’s dead, but even if he wasn’t, you would never have to compete with him. I was only fifteen when we were together and yes, things were intense between us. I loved him in the way a teenage girl loves her high school sweetheart, but to be honest, that’s not very different from how they crush on celebrities. It was an innocent love, but now I know I didn’t even know what love was then.’

  Rebecca swallowed; she owed Hugh the absolute truth if they were going to recover from this.

  ‘When we met I was still aching from losing my baby and also Robbie. My life felt hopeless. I was broken. And then we got chatting and we became such good friends. I didn’t recognise that I was in love with you because my feelings for you went so much deeper than the all-consuming childish passion I had for Robbie. I’ll admit I didn’t think I was in love with you when we got married but I did love you. And over the last thirty years together I’ve fallen head over heels. You’ve taught me what real love is. My relationship with Robbie would probably have fizzled out as we grew up, but I know my love for you will never do any such thing.’

  A lump had formed in her throat but somehow she managed to say one more thing. ‘I do love you, Hugh, more than I’ve ever loved anyone. I’d be lost without you.’

  From now on her mission in life would be to prove this fact.

  ‘Oh, Rebecca.’ Hugh pulled her into his arms. ‘I love you, too.’

  Clara

  ‘To what do I owe this unexpected visit?’ Siobhan exclaimed with her usual warm smile when she opened the door to Clara not long after she left Rebecca’s.

  Until that moment Clara had held it together—she hadn’t cried when the policeman had delivered the news, she hadn’t cried while speaking to the funeral director, she hadn’t even cried when she’d shared that weird moment with Rebecca—but she took one look at her little sister and burst into tears.

  Siobhan looked momentarily flummoxed—she wasn’t used to her stoic sister falling apart—and then she yanked Clara into her arms and held her close. ‘Oh darling,’ she whispered. ‘There, there, it’ll be alright, whatever’s happened, I’m here.’

  ‘What’s wrong with Aunty Clara?’ came a voice from down near their hips and Clara drew back to see Zoey and Blake looking up at her with wide eyes.

  ‘I’m fine.’ Clara quickly wiped her eyes and tried to smile, feeling embarrassed about being caught in such a mess by her great-niece and great-nephew. She looked back to Siobhan. ‘Sorry, I didn’t know you were babysitting, I’ll leave.’

  Siobhan grabbed onto her arm. ‘Oh, no you don’t. I’ll give these two their iPads and they’ll be occupied for hours. Just give me one sec.’

  ‘But Mummy said we can’t have screen time until after afternoon tea,’ Zoey said, her tone disapproving.

  Siobhan clapped her hands together. ‘Guess it’s time for afternoon tea, then.’

  ‘But we just had lunch.’ Zoey pouted.

  Blake elbowed her in the side. ‘Can I have a chocolate brownie?’

  ‘You can have whatever you want, darling,’ Siobhan said, ushering them back down the hallway. ‘Come on.’

  This last order was directed at Clara, so she followed her sister and the kids and tried to compose herself while Siobhan set them up with brownies, poppers and iPads in the theatre room.

  ‘Now, can I get you a cup of tea?’ Siobhan asked on her return.

  Clara thought of what Brenda had said about the tea. ‘Do you have anything stronger?’

  ‘Come into the lounge room and let’s see what we can find,’ Siobhan said, taking her hand and leading her there.

  As Clara all but collapsed onto the sofa, Siobhan went straight for the liquor cabinet—they weren’t drunks but she and Neil did have an impressive collection of alcoholic drinks. Thirty seconds later when Siobhan put a glass tumbler of whiskey into her hand, Clara was very grateful of this fact.

  She took a sip, screwed up her nose as the liquid burned her throat and then took another. It was exactly what she needed. She wouldn’t drink too much because she’d have to drive back to Brenda’s place soon, but a few more sips wouldn’t hurt.

  ‘Have you and Gregg had a fight?’ Siobhan asked as she lowered herself onto the sofa beside Clara.

  She realised she hadn’t yet told her sisters about her split from Gregg—she’d been busy helping Josie and Brenda with the find Rob campaign but also hadn’t wanted the lecture she knew they’d give her for the decision she’d made. They wouldn’t understand.

  ‘We kind of broke up,’ she said slowly, cradling the glass between her hands. ‘But that’s not what this is about,’ she rushed to add before Siobhan could say anything. ‘Rob’s body has been found.’

  It should have been getting easier to deliver this news. But it wasn’t. She felt a fresh wave of guilt and sorrow wash over her.

  Siobhan gripped Clara’s arm. ‘Oh my God. When?’

  ‘We’re not sure exactly.’ But she told her sister as much as they knew.

  A tear snuck down Siobhan’s cheek. ‘Robert might not have been my favourite person in recent years, but …’

  ‘I know,’ Clara whispered, not needing her sister to finish her sentence. She felt exactly the same. She might have thought she wished him dead but the reality was something else entirely. She’d never wanted Rob to become just another devastating suicide statistic. Yet—

  ‘So you were with Josie and Brenda when this happened?’ Siobhan asked, interrupting this thought.

  Clara nodded.

  ‘Will Brenda have to identify the body?’ was Siobhan’s next question.
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  Clara shook her head. ‘No, and this is going to sound awful—he’ll be well and truly on the way to being decomposed, the stench will be terrible—but even knowing how gruesome it would be, I would have offered to do it for her. I kind of want to see for myself that he is well and truly dead.’

  This was something she could never admit to anyone else.

  ‘It doesn’t sound awful, it sounds understandable,’ Siobhan said. ‘After all he’s put you through while you were married, not to mention the last couple of years, you wouldn’t be human if you didn’t at least feel some relief that you finally have closure.’

  ‘Yes, I guess, but this wasn’t the kind of closure I wanted,’ Clara confessed and she wasn’t sure relief was exactly what she felt. Whatever it was, it was wrapped up together in a conflicting package with guilt and sadness. ‘I know he made my life a living hell much of the time and for the last couple of years all I wanted was for him to leave me the hell alone, but now that he has, all I feel is empty and sad and I hate myself. I hate myself for wanting him gone and for failing him. Not just when we were married and I didn’t insist he get proper help but—’

  ‘That’s ridiculous,’ Siobhan interrupted, ‘you tried numerous ways and times. I know you’re in shock but I can’t let you blame yourself for this.’

  ‘I should have done more to help him try and find his child. And recently, when he got so upset after seeing me with Gregg, I should have gone after him, but all I cared about was my own happiness. He’s been dead about a month! Seeing me with Gregg triggered his suicide.’

  ‘You don’t know that for sure.’

  ‘Yes I do.’ Nothing her sister could say would convince her otherwise. It was the final straw. She might as well have bought him the rope. ‘And how can I look at Brenda and Josie knowing this? I couldn’t bear being in the same room any longer. It was too horribly sad seeing Josie with Brenda and knowing that had she turned up just a couple of months earlier, there might have been a different ending to this story. When they didn’t need someone to identify the body, I offered to go tell Rebecca. I had to get out of there.’