The Tightrope

by Hiba Basit

  ‘I’m excused from the GO case. Felix is the primary social worker now.’

  ‘Ah! How do you feel about the decision?’

  ‘My manager’s given me another case already, despite his reluctance. He told me to take some time off work, a week or two, maybe a few months.’

  Annette notices that she has evaded her question. She waits for her to continue, but Abigail remains silent.

  ‘It sounds like work is the only thing keeping you sane,’ Annette guesses.

  ‘It is! You’re exactly right!’ Abigail exclaims over-enthusiastically. ‘It’s just that time seems to…’ She pauses, her gaze still averted. Annette leans forward and rests her elbows on her desk. She has a feeling Abigail is using work as a way to avoid the memory of ‘the incident’ and anything that triggers the memory. But there’s something else in her manner. Something that makes her think that Abigail might be feeling guilty about something.

  ‘Abigail, you’ve been through a horrible ordeal. I think it could be good to talk to someone. What if I transfer you –.’

  ‘No!’

  Annette is about to reach for the phone, but stops. Her hand hangs in mid-air for an instant and then drops back onto the desk. Abigail turns to leave, her sunken eyes and washed-out appearance catching light from the window.

  ‘Wait, hold on a minute!’ Annette watches her for a long time, tapping her pen against her thigh. She searches her mind for something other than the option she is about to consider and possibly take. This will put her under a lot of pressure and conflict, not to mention the angst at seeing her friend suffer. She tells herself she doesn’t need this, some other psychologist can take care of Abigail. But, as usual, she is overcome by the need to do what is right.

  ‘Are you free next Monday?’ she says.

  Abigail finally looks at her. ‘Why?’ she asks tentatively.

  ‘I want you to have a session with me. If you want?’

  ‘But you specialise with children.’

  Annette takes out a bulky leather diary. ‘I’ve done lots of work with adults too. Plus, I just realised that due to the hushed nature of this case, you’re not permitted to speak about it to anyone not involved on the case, at least not yet. So, you haven’t answered my question.’

  ‘Monday’s good.’

  ‘That’s sorted then!’

  ‘How much…’

  ‘Don’t worry about the cost,’ Annette says, waving the question off with a hand.

  ‘No, I can –.’

  ‘Look, for some reason, your manager chose me as the lead psychologist for the GO case. It's the least I can offer in return, but when the time is right, I want you to see another professional. Deal?’

  ‘Deal! Thanks, Annette.’

  Annette winks at Abigail, who leaves the room as silently as she entered, but this time with a small smile.

  ***

  Alex lies alone, sleeping in her bed in one of the hospital rooms. Earlier in the day, Nurse Mary was called into Annette’s office and told that Alex would be assigned to her. She walked into Alex’s room to introduce herself just as the doctor was bandaging her legs up. As she set eyes on the girl, something shifted in Mary. Although she didn’t have children of her own, the frail sight of Alex sent shivers running up her spine.

  Mary holds Alex’s gaunt hand now and blesses the girl whose only crime was to be a burden on her parents who left her. Alex’s chest moves calmly to the rhythm of her breathing. For the first time in her life, she looks peaceful and warm. Her pale hands lie flat beside her face and her mouth hangs half open, revealing the cherry red of her lips. She makes a rasping noise every time she inhales and twitches her nose now and then, as if a fly has landed on it.

  To any observer, Alex lies fast asleep, like any other child at this time of night, lost in a space full of happiness and childish dreams.

  ***

  As I fall asleep, I feel nothing around me but the new crisp bed sheets. I lie motionless, worried that if I move, he might not come.

  It works. As fast as a lightening strike, I am back home, the walls of the orphanage black as charcoal around me.

  I’m on a step. Ever so steadily, I manoeuvre my way down, careful not to slip on the thin pair of ankle socks on my feet. When I finally reach the bottom, I walk away from the staircase and hurriedly push my way through the double doors. They swing back as I let them go and I see a colourful image of smashing into them. The thought feels good, making me certain that he is nearby.

  And, just like magic, Andrei wraps his big arms around me and lifts me into the air, spinning me.

  ‘Andrei!’ I grab onto his arms and try and turn my face towards him. I feel like a fish writhing in a pond. ‘Andrei!’ I cry breathlessly. I take hold of his hand in mine as his grip begins to loosen. ‘Andrei, you’re going to drop me!’ I shout at him and try and pull myself up with all of my strength. I want to see his face. I want him to pull me up and hold me, but his grip loosens even more. ‘Hold me! Don’t let them take me away!’ I scream.

  He’s fading away, almost as if his presence is an illusion, a cruel construction of my mind. Even so, I dig my nails deeper into his skin, madly trying to grab at his shirt, his hair, anything.

  He lets me go. I fall slowly, moving like a dead body rocking in the sea, and then I crash onto the black floor. My head cracks open and my body bounces up.

  Still, I scream his name.

  ‘Alex! You’re all right, sweetie. It’s only a nightmare.’

  I awake. I’m lying on the floor of the hospital in the dark. Someone is with me. It isn’t Andrei. My back is turned to her. She whispers softly, holding my body ever so gently, I’ve never felt anything like it before. I freeze as I feel her hands on my bare stomach and realise I’m naked. I can see my clothes in a heap on the other side of the floor.

  ‘Andrei,’ I call and when there is no answer, I cannot speak.

  ***

  As Alex drifts back to sleep, Annette lifts her from the floor and slips her into bed. She pulls her gown on and grabs the ruffled blankets, placing them over her. She lingers for a while, listening to her mumbling words in her sleep. Her body irregularly jolts up as if she’s hiccupping and her rasping breaths rise and sink like a tide. Annette watches her flickering eyelids, knowing she’s beginning to dream again.

  ‘No more scary dreams tonight,’ she whispers.

  Finally, when she’s sure she’s fast asleep, she takes time to study her. She’s a little one, so tiny that Annette is sure she would just about fit in a cot. The hair that was thickly matted earlier now looks soft and shiny, covering her face and the pillow. Annette can make out her collarbone beneath the thin layer of skin, predicting that she'll see the bones jutting out in more than one place on her body, due to the severe neglect she's endured for eleven years. Even in her sleep, she looks like a frightened little girl, with an almost orphan quality about her.

  As she turns in her sleep, Annette notices the small bruises in the shape of a one-dollar coin running from her left cheek and disappearing under her clothes. Despite often seeing marks on children due to the nature of her work, she feels her eyes mist. Sometimes, emotions catch even the most trained people unawares. She turns her gaze to look at the sky outside the locked window, which is ocean blue, dark and riveting in the night. Although she can’t hear the wind from indoors, she can see the trees blowing mightily from side to side. She cannot wait to be outside on her way home, surrounded by the late hours of darkness.

  She turns to Alex, who is still once again, her tranquil eyelids reassuring her that she is no longer dreaming. Early tomorrow morning her team will perform a mental health assessment on Alex and, most likely, have her transferred and admitted as a sectioned patient from St Anne’s medical unit into the inpatient CAMHS unit.

  And then the real work starts.

  David strokes Annette’s hair, gently calling her awake. As she starts to stir, he settles next to her on the couch.

  ‘Hi, sweetie,’ he whispe
rs as she opens her eyes, blinking rapidly.

  ‘Where am I?’ she asks.

  ‘You fell asleep downstairs.’

  ‘What time is it?’ She looks around the room trying to recollect her thoughts. ‘Have I slept in?’ She panics, but David takes her in his arms, laying her back down.

  ‘It’s past one in the morning, darling.’ Relief crosses over her face and, at the same time, exhaustion overtakes her. ‘It seems like you’ve underslept. I didn’t even hear you come in.’

  ‘I’m sorry. It was a long day and I stayed back to finish some paperwork.’ He massages her feet.

  ‘I saw the headlines: Battered Kids of Romania sent Down Under. The media are complete idiots!’

  ‘Yeah. Press interest in this case has grown so quickly.’

  ‘It’s an unusual case so it was bound to happen. Still, I know you will deal with it. Let’s go to bed,’ he suggests, already rising, but Annette tilts her face suspiciously.

  ‘It wouldn’t be right to simply fall asleep, if I remember correctly,’ she quips, making him grin.

  ‘You’re tired,’ he points out, not too emphatically though. She wraps her arms around him.

  ‘You’re right. I do have to do all the work.’

  He feigns shock. ‘Well, if that’s the case, Dr Coulter, maybe I’ll show you some extraordinary stuff I’ve been saving for this occasion!’

  Annette is suddenly wide-awake, and within seconds, swooped off the sofa and into his arms, as he hurriedly carries her upstairs and into their bedroom.

  Chapter Six

  The next day, in the hospital cafeteria, David shakes his head back and forth as one of his friends makes a joke about elephants and balloons. His group have retreated to the far side of the left corner, away from the eyes of fellow workers.

  ‘Seriously, why can’t elephants blow up helium balloons?’ Connor asks. When no one attempts a guess, he bites into a carrot, evidently throwing a strop.

  ‘Tell us the punch line, mate!’ David offers, feeling guilty, but Connor looks away, the moment gone.

  ‘How’s Annie?’ he finally asks, tossing a spoonful of pasta into his mouth.

  David taps his lips, motioning for Connor to clean up the sauce dripping down his face.

  ‘Been getting too much, eh!’ Connor grins. Everyone at the table bursts out laughing.

  ‘Wipe your face, you moron!’ Adrian chides. Connor grabs a tissue, unembarrassed.

  ‘So, how’s the Mrs?’ Adrian asks, turning his attention to David.

  ‘Good. Busy!’

  ‘With the GO case? I heard about it. I'm guessing the bitter headlines in the news have made things even more sour.’

  ‘It was the last thing she needed,’ he agrees.

  ‘What about you?’ Adrian says. ‘How are your needs?’

  David pauses, letting the silence take its effect. He knows where Adrian is going with this. Instead, he chooses to finish his salad off. Everyone resumes their lunch, the awkwardness of the moment spreading down the table, as if the unsaid word was pasted on their foreheads.

  ‘We haven’t spoken about it lately, if it’s what I think you’re referring to,’ he finally answers, surveying the vicinity as if he’s looking for someone in particular.

  ‘Why?’ Connor asks, trying to sound breezy. ‘Are you scared?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Then why haven’t you said anything to her?’

  ‘I don’t know. Can I eat my lunch in peace?’

  David takes another forkful. He can almost hear them holding their breath, waiting for someone to change the subject.

  ‘I know someone who does want your babies.’ Connor motions to a brunette standing behind him in the queue.

  ‘Actually,’ David says, getting up. ‘I’m done.’

  ‘Wait up!’ Adrian calls, running after him. ‘Come on, mate! You have to talk about it. Tell me why you haven’t said anything to her.’ They grind to a halt.

  ‘I just haven’t had time.’

  ‘In over a year?’

  ‘We haven’t had the time to talk about it,’ David corrects, hoping it will satisfy him, but he’s already shaking his head.

  ‘Is she not talking about it?’

  ‘She’s doing no such thing!’

  ‘Talk to Annie tonight then.’

  David averts his gaze.

  ‘I’m trying to help. We all know you’re unhappy –.’

  ‘I’m not unhappy!’

  ‘Stressed. Frustrated. Down in the dumps. Whatever you want to call it.’

  ‘For God’s sake, Adrian!’

  ‘All I’m saying is if you talk to her, you can find out exactly where she stands.’ He notices the wariness in David’s eyes. ‘Unless you really are scared about her answer.’

  ‘Of course not!’

  ‘So, I’m wrong?’

  ‘OK! I’ll talk to her. Just not tonight because she’s working late.’

  Adrian lifts a brow but lets it rest. ‘Fair enough,’ he answers, shrugging his shoulders.

  ‘Stop trying to be my right hand all the time,’ David admonishes, trying to lighten the tone.

  ‘I am your right hand. And if it shakes during surgery, that’s as much my business as it is yours!’ David turns towards the surgical unit, feeling the weight of their conversation sink in.

  Jordan Stamp is silent, almost feeling a bit hollow, as he listens to the news on the hospital television. Another child from Green Orphanage has died since the rescue mission took place; the third in less than one week. Annette sits beside him, equally speechless.

  Jordan, Annette’s manager and advisor, maintains the sole responsibility for looking after her welfare and professional state. He is also her prime confidant, the person she can legally talk to regarding the clinical cases she undertakes.

  ‘Annette,’ Jordan calls as they leave the meeting. ‘Good to hear they assigned you for the main cases. I have to say, I’ve never seen anything like this. And, I’ve seen a lot in my time.’

  ‘It’s bad,’ she agrees.

  Jordan’s expression reflects distress. ‘This is going to be difficult. These cases are going to take time and require a lot of courage, which I know you have. It’s good to have you back. It’s not been the same for the last few months without you.’

  ‘Stop it. So many compliments on my first week back will inflate my ego.’

  ‘Yes, I better stop there.’ He laughs. ‘Come and see me when you need to. If I’m following correctly, I don’t think you’ve had any appointments on the case yet?’

  Her pager beeps once and she becomes momentarily distracted. She looks up and flashes a smile. ‘I will do tomorrow when both children will be admitted onto the ward. Meanwhile, I better run. One of my outpatients has arrived early.’

  Jordan helps her with the door and Annette rushes past, feeling her excitement grow at the prospect of what the next hour could bring.

  Annette pinpoints Jacob McKenzie and his parents as soon as the elevator doors open.

  ‘Hi. I’m sorry I’m late. I thought our session was scheduled a bit later.’

  ‘That’s fine, Annette. I think we’re a few minutes early, so if you’re a couple minutes late, then we’re all on time!’ Stewart McKenzie laughs at his amusing observation until his wife, clearly embarrassed, tells him off. Annette smiles nonetheless, often surprised by how insignificant yet truthful his words are. She finds Jacob behind his mother, his fingers wrapped around her leg.

  ‘Hey, are you hiding from me?’ she says. He shakes his head. ‘Right, then. Shall we go inside?’ He waves to his parents and disappears into Annette’s office. ‘How’s he been?’ she asks, turning to his parents.

  ‘Quiet,’ Eliza replies, looking worried.

  ‘He’s losing his temper a lot,’ Stewart adds.

  ‘With the two of you?’

  ‘Just with me,’ Eliza says. ‘And with his sisters.’

  Annette considers this, but she’s equally as confused as them. ‘OK. I
’d better go. See you in an hour.’ She slips into her office and finds Jacob in the far corner, heavily immersed in the racing cars.

  ‘Cars have been a popular choice for play today,’ she says conversationally.

  ‘I don’t mind,’ Jacob says. Annette doesn’t understand. She walks over and sits down.

  ‘Do you want something to drink?’

  ‘No.’

  Annette waits for a moment, giving him space to settle.

  ‘No, thanks,’ he adds.

  She senses his unease immediately. It bounces off him and onto her.

  ‘Jacob, are you going to answer me with one-word replies today?’

  He looks at her then, and Annette notices the anger reflecting in his emerald eyes. He looks at her irritably, his forehead creasing by the second. For some reason, David’s fish-face springs into her mind. In the next minute, she makes her cheeks expand like balloons, her teeth surfacing over her lips and eyebrows wriggling like caterpillars. Luckily, Jacob is in hysterics within seconds, her face obviously having done the trick, for the time being. He giggles and ends up curling down on the sofa, still hiccupping with laughter.

  ‘Let’s start again,’ he offers, making her grin.

  ‘What do you want to start with?’

  ‘My day.’

  ‘How’s your day been?’

  ‘It’s been OK. I haven’t liked it much.’

  ‘Would you like to tell me why?’

  He gets up halfway, but remains silent.

  ‘OK, what have you done so far then?’

  His face crinkles as he thinks. ‘Well, first I went to school. We had Maths, Sports and Music.’

  ‘You did all that in one day!’ Annette says, truly shocked. Primary school felt like a lifetime ago and she couldn’t imagine how children packed around five lessons in one day any more. ‘Did you enjoy your lessons?’

  He nods and picks up the toy car again. ‘Then Mummy and I went grocery shopping.’

  ‘What did you buy?’

  ‘Healthy food.’ He imitates nausea. ‘Only I threw in some chocolates at the end and Mummy didn’t even notice. Now, they’re in my room!’ He announces this as if he’s solved a problem. Then, he giggles loudly.