Mum had taken down my photos and posters I’d glue-tacked to the wall, and it was tidier than it had been when I was living there. But it would always be my room. Resting my aching head on the pillow, I reached across for the frame to take a closer look at the picture, my eyes taking time to adjust. They felt grainy and sore, but once I focused on the photo in front of me, I could see fine. Mum, her long hair tied in a ponytail that hung loosely over her left shoulder, wore a blue singlet and tan shorts. She leant her soft olive cheek on Dad’s right shoulder. Dad stood tall, portraying the pride he had in his family. He had his arm wrapped around Mum, holding her close, and between them stood me, smiling happily with Dad’s left arm holding me close to them and keeping me safe from any harm. The background was full of bush and scrub, the old timber shack that had since been demolished poking out of the left-hand corner. I hugged it to my chest, remembering how happy we’d been together, and questioned once again why I had left the farm at all.
Rose poked her head around the corner and a smile spread across her face. ‘Amelia, how are you?’
‘Okay.’ My voice was raspy, and for the first time, since waking, I noticed a cannula, its tube reaching up to a bladder of liquid that hung from the curtain rail above me.
‘Cameron has been taking care of you with fluids and antibiotics. I’ll be back in a moment. I just want to get your parents.’
Before leaving, she glanced back at me once more, as if convincing herself I was indeed awake.
How long had I been asleep for?
I could vaguely remember snippets of the drive. Bumps that caused me to ache, and it awoke me only to lead into a coughing fit before I would tire once more and fall back asleep. It had never occurred to me we were heading to my parents’ farm.
‘Oh, Amelia honey.’ She covered her mouth with her hand as though seeing me for the first time. I knew she would have spent most of her time in my room with me since my arrival.
Dad wasn’t far behind her, and as he came through the door, a relieved smile spread across his rough face. Mum had cut her hair short since the photo; it made her look younger but more mature at the same time. Short hair suited her oval face, her big brown eyes, and her long black eyelashes that I’d been lucky enough to inherit. Dad never changed. He’d had the same hair cut for as long as I could remember and just enough stubble to be visible and scratchy when he kissed my cheek.
‘How do you feel?’ The concern and care in her voice made me want to cry.
I took a painful swallow, which cut like razor blades and pushed it to the back of my mind with my memories.
‘Sore, but okay.’
I lifted my hands to look at them. My soft pink fingers looked raw, poking out the top of crisp white bandages; my knees and feet had the same raw feel to them. My head still throbbed, but it was bearable. I sat up once again, and although my chest, throat, and nose still ached and burned, I wasn’t having a problem breathing. Recalling the rivers of blood that had poured from my hand at Sandhaven beach, I took stock of my injuries. My parents told me over and over how lucky I was to be alive.
My thoughts arrived painfully at Joe. ‘How’s Joe?’
My mother was in the middle of speaking, but I hadn’t been listening and directed my question to Rose.
‘I haven’t been able to get a hold of him, but I’m sure he’s fine. The lady on the news ...’ She cut herself off, realising she was saying too much.
My parents’ eyes darted at her confirming my suspicions as did the guilty expression across her face.
‘Tell me.’ They swapped glances with each other.
‘It’s up to both of you,’ decided Rose, and my parents both nodded moving closer to me, my mother taking my bandaged hand tenderly.
‘The fire was on the news. They said it was an accident, but Andrew swears he saw someone in the paddock behind the house, lighting it. He yelled out at them, but they didn’t respond. That’s why he was so scared. He thinks it was the MMC. He feels terrible for leaving us behind, but said he’s destroying the mobile and wants nothing more to do with us. It’s just too dangerous, and he suggested we do the same.’
He was right to be scared.
Were the MMC really capable of torching someone’s home? Obviously they were covering it up. Were the police helping them?
‘But what about Joe? You didn’t tell me about Joe?’ Desperation filled my words.
‘They said that they found a male at the house and that he was being treated at the hospital.’ Her faced turned grim, and she struggled to make eye contact with me.
My eyes stung with tears. ‘Just tell me, Rose.’
She took a deep breath searching for some bravery in her sadness. ‘Dawn didn’t make it.’
A tear rolled over her soft pink cheek as she tried her best to stay strong. I turned my head, staring at the white ceiling above me.
It shouldn’t have been a surprise. I had known Dawn’s fate while searching inside the burning house. Secretly, I’d hoped she’d escaped on her own or that the Fire Brigade had rescued her after we’d left. The news she hadn’t made it hurt deeper than any of my injuries. Rose and I had just spent an amazing day with her on the farm. We’d talked with her, drank tea with her, and helped her tend to her gorgeous orchids in her small greenhouse that gave her so much joy. Remembering her ashy hair pulled loosely up from her face into a bun, her warm dark eyes that crinkled in the corners making her not look old but wise, her loose comfortable clothing, and her comforting cuddles that squeezed the worry and doubt out from inside you, tears flooded into my eyes, but only one escaped, running quickly over my cheek as raw as my hands.
I took a deep breath. I needed to get up, get away from their probing gazes, and busy my mind.
‘Cameron said you need to rest,’ Rose protested.
‘Well, Cameron isn’t here, and I feel like getting some fresh air.’
It took some convincing, but eventually they agreed, and my father pulled the thick needle from my arm, covering the puncture wound with cotton wool and a Band-Aid. My head light and my feet tender, I used the walls and Rose to weave my way outside to sit on the old wooden bench on the veranda. The bench looked out over the farm I’d grown up on. Sinking into it, I felt tired and sore.
The new shed they’d built to replace the one they’d torn down looked too shiny and bright to belong in its dull surroundings of yellows and browns. Now and then a dry green colour poked through the dusty hues, but the majority of the landscape was dry and craving water. Joe was all alone. We were supposed to be in this together, but we had left him to deal with his loss and his grief all by himself. Dawn had been his only remaining family, and we were the closest thing he had left.
‘I need to talk to Joe.’ Rose was sitting silently next to me on an old stool she had carried from inside.
‘Sarah’s on her way into the city hospital now to find him. She promised she won’t return until Joe is ready to come with her. She wanted to be here for you, but said that this is what you’d want.’ The hint of jealousy in her voice didn’t suit her. ‘I would have gone, but they will expect us to turn up.’
Again we fell into silence, and I tried to ignore the feeling of three sets of eyes burning into me. They were worried about me, but it didn’t make it any less intrusive or any easier to hold back the barrage of emotions.
Time was irrelevant as I watched the clouds move slowly across the sky. Remembering my time with Dawn, I tried to push the memories away again so as not to cry. I had no right to cry. She wasn’t my relative, she was Joe’s. He could mourn the lady who had been a mother figure to him over the years. I’d only known her for a short time. If I’d tried harder or gotten into the house quicker, I was sure I would’ve been able to rescue her as she had done me. Wasn’t it only fair I repaid all she had done for me?
But instead, my slow mind had taken its time to click into gear, and it had been too late to save the wonderful lady who had been there for me when I needed her.
A blac
k car thundered up the driveway. As it approached the house, it pulled up abruptly in front of the veranda, and after struggling with his seatbelt, Cameron climbed out dressed in a pair of knee-length denim pants and a mint green T-shirt.
‘What is she doing out of bed?’
‘She insisted, and we thought it couldn’t hurt. She seemed fine.’ Rose blushed with embarrassment. She knew she should have tried harder to keep me in bed.
‘I’m the nurse. Couldn’t you wait till I confirmed she was okay?’ He was upset but protective at the same time.
Mum stepped through the doorway. ‘Don’t get upset with Rose. We made a family decision. Plus we’ve been keeping an eye on her the whole time. She’s just been sitting out here getting some fresh air.’
It was comforting to hear Mum’s protective tone, and it was apparent she had taken a liking to Rose the way she defended her.
Cameron finally acknowledged I was there at all. ‘How are you feeling?’
‘Fine.’ I wasn’t ready to run a marathon, but the idea of lying back in that bed staring at the ceiling free to dwell on my thoughts didn’t appeal to me whatsoever.
‘Dizzy?’
‘A little.’
‘How are your eyes?’
‘Bit grainy, but I can see.’
‘Your breathing sounds good.’
He ran back to his car to find a stethoscope, and then asked me to inhale several times deeply while pressing it to my back and chest.
‘Still a little wheezy, but the antibiotics will help reduce the swelling. Her face is still quite red, and I imagine her feet, knees, and hands are too, so you’ll have to keep the cream up.’ He was talking to Mum again.
Carefully, he unravelled the bandage from my right hand to examine my wounds. One deep gash ran from under my little finger to the bottom of my palm and was patched with white bits of tape that held the skin together. The rest appeared to be shallower and healing already.
He nodded and wrapped it back up again. ‘It’s too late to stitch it properly, so I need you to move this hand as little as possible while it heals.’
Thankful to have him to look after me, I agreed placing it gently into my lap cupped by my left hand.
His demeanour changed from Nurse Cameron to Cameron my friend, and he gave me a light peck on the cheek. ‘You scared me, Miss Bailey.’
Rose and Cameron helped me back inside so that I could get cleaned up. Mum had washed me over with warm water and soap, but smoke still clung to my hair and skin and a sticky sweat made me feel dirty. Mum helped me undress. I tried not to be embarrassed, as it was difficult to do with one hand wadded with bandages and the rawness of my shins and feet. She poured the bath, adding a mixture to it that Cameron had given her. It turned the clear water a dirty brown colour, and it smelled strong like disinfectant masked with a sickly sweet aroma. I wrinkled my nose at its appearance. My mum left the room to sit on a chair outside the slightly-ajar door. The lukewarm water soothed my skin as I sunk into it, and I soon forgave the concoction for its dirty colour and strong smell. It numbed and healed my tender shins and feet. Splashing some gently over my face, I lay back and slid deeper so the water rested under my chin.
My mind played scenes in which Sarah was convincing Joe to come to my parents’ farm and join the rest of us. First, he was excited to see us again, but then, my mind cast him in a story where he was too grief-stricken and angry to see any of us ever again.
If only I’d stayed.
Why had he pushed me away when I’d tried to be there for him? Did he blame me for the death of his aunty? Maybe he wished I had rescued her instead of him.
The questions, doubts, and uncertainty not only made my head hurt but made my stomach queasy and the smell became overwhelming once again. Calling my mother to assist me, I climbed out of the bath and dressed. I decided I wanted to be around people, as I was frightened to be alone with my thoughts too much longer. The longer I thought, the darker they became.
For dinner, Mum had fixed us slow-cooked beef with vegetables, and although hungry, I could only stomach a few mouthfuls.
‘You haven’t eaten for over two days, so it’ll take some time to be able to stomach food again.’ Cameron placed his hand on my left thigh supportively.
Uncomfortable, my leg twitched, and he returned his hand to the table.
How could I be sitting there playing happy families with Cameron while Joe was in hospital, alone?
Cameron was the reason we weren’t close anymore, and instead of dropping him, I’d brought him in closer rubbing Joe’s nose in it.
Anger filled my chest and then my throat until my whole body ached with it.
‘I’m done.’ I rose too quickly losing my balance. Cameron automatically reached out to hold me steady.
‘For god’s sake, just leave me alone!’ My throat stung as I screamed at him, making my head feel dizzy.
I made my way out of the room as fast as I could, stumbling a few times, catching myself on the hallways walls to my bedroom. Although I had avoided it all day, once in my bed, I remembered what a sanctuary it had been for me through my school years. When life got too hard, or I’d felt too alone, I’d spend hours in my room listening to music. What I would have given for a Linkin Park song, but all I could hear instead was mumbled concerned conversations echoing from the dining room.
It was easy to be angry at Cameron. He was so kind, and the fact he was incredibly good-looking wasn’t lost on me. It was obvious he was too good for me. The urge to scream filled me and, pulling my pillow over my face, I yelled as loudly as I could to relieve the pressure building inside of me. My lungs burned, and my throat tore in pain with the force, all the pain, anger, hurt, and frustration pouring out of me at once. Exhausted, I laid the pillow on my chest and my head back on the bed, panting and out of breath.
Why did I push Joe away? Why did I get the people I care about involved? Why couldn’t I save Dawn?
Mum crept silently into the room. I didn’t notice she was there until I felt the bed give a little as she sat beside me. She didn’t speak. She simply swept the loose hair from my face and stroked the underside of my left arm as I drifted off to sleep.
‘You forgot me.’ His calm collected voice felt friendly and warm once again, and I turned to smile at him.
We were sitting on our favourite grassy spot on the hill at Dawn’s farm. A black fog hid the scenery of hills and trees.
‘I’m sorry.’ My heart ached for how much I’d hurt him.
‘You forgot Aunty Dawn.’ His voice was still calm, but an anger burned behind his dark brown eyes that brought fear into my heart and tears to my eyes.
‘I’m sorry.’ Grief swept over me. He was right.
I was pulled from the grassy spot on the hill into Dawn’s house. Fire burned all around me, leaping out at me like clawed hands.
An almighty scream broke through, and Dawn called out, ‘Amelia!’
Intense pain was evident in her voice, which made me run as fast as I could through the heat and flames to her bedroom door.
‘You’re too late.’ Her face was disappointed and sad as two great hands of molten orange and yellow reached out and grabbed her. I reached for her as she did for me. I was too late.
CHAPTER
TWENTY-ONE
My face stung with sweat and tears. Mum tore into the room, sitting next to me, cradling my wet face into her chest rocking me back and forth.
‘I couldn’t save her, Mum. I tried to find her, but the fire ...’ Panic filled my voice as I recalled the way Dawn had looked at me, her eyes pleading for me to save her from an awful fate.
‘You did more than anyone else could, sweetheart. You saved Joe, and from what Sarah told me, the fire was too far along by then to save her.’ She lifted the hair that stuck to my face and smoothed it back with the rest.
‘She blames me. Joe blames me too.’ I was sobbing like a small child, cowering into my mother’s arms.
‘If she was as wonderful as the gi
rls have described, there is no way she would blame you. She would be grateful for saving Joe.’
I nodded into her chest, the rocking and her words having a calming effect. Slowly but surely, I fell back to sleep, and this time I was so exhausted if I had dreamt, I hadn’t the energy to recall it.
***
In the morning, Sarah called. The sound of her voice lifted my spirits, and I realised how much I missed her. She was right in thinking that I would want her to be with Joe. She was happy to hear I was on the mend. Sarah assured me that Joe was in shock and upset at the loss of Dawn, but he was well and would be discharged from hospital that morning.
They planned to stay in the caravan on the farm that night, as he wanted a chance to say goodbye to the place where he’d grown up. The following day, they would attend Dawn’s funeral service, before tending to legal paperwork concerning the farm and heading out to my parents’ farm in Montville. She made me promise that I wouldn’t try to go to the funeral. The MMC had been very present during her hospital visits. They had questioned them thoroughly, with Sarah insisting she was simply the supportive friend and Joe was someone who had just lost his family and home in one night. After over two hours, they realised they weren’t getting anywhere and left. Sarah was sure they were watching them, so she was being very careful what she said and did for fear of being placed in the Psychiatric Ward as I had been, or worse.
She was growing concerned about Joe. He’d been emotionless throughout the whole ordeal. She’d feared he would have an outburst and get them into trouble, but instead, he grunted inaudible answers and stared blankly at the ceiling. She was sure once we were together again, he would grieve and return to the Joe we knew once again. Her voice sounded strained, stressed, and tired, but she assured me she was fine. I asked to speak to Joe, but he was undergoing tests to be discharged, so I had to be happy with the explanation she’d given me.
Cameron didn’t reappear that day. Instead, he’d given Mum instructions on how to look after my raw skin. I both welcomed and felt sad at his absence, annoying myself that I was so confused about what I wanted from him.
Dawn of the Dreamer (Dreamer Trilogy Book 1) Page 17
