by Helene Young
Felicity found a nurse and requested Georgina be given a trundle bed beside her mother in a single room. It was going to take time, but they’d manage it. For Felicity it was proof that no one expected Ivy to see another sunrise.
‘She’s not going to make it, is she?’ Georgina said, when Felicity returned to the lounge.
Felicity searched for the words. ‘I’d never write Ivy off, but this time?’ The sigh felt as though it came from the soles of her shoes. ‘To be really blunt, it’s better that she goes peacefully here than horribly at home if that bone fragment moves. She’s so frail now. Her blood pressure’s all over the place and they’re struggling to keep her oxygen levels up. Her nose is broken and frequently bleeding. Most of that blood may well have ended up in her lungs.’
‘God.’ Tears welled in Georgina’s eyes. ‘Is she going to even make it through the night?’
‘I really don’t know, Georgie.’ Felicity held out her arms and Georgina stepped into the hug. The two of them clung together. Felicity had never held her sister while she cried and the convulsive sobs brought their own pain.
‘God, I’m sorry, Lissie. You must think I’m an idiot.’ Georgina pulled away, swiping her palms down her cheeks. Felicity shook her head.
‘No, I think the two of you have a love much deeper than you’ve ever believed. I always knew you’d find this hard because of everything . . .’ She lifted a shoulder.
Georgina sniffed, failing to stem her tears. ‘I thought it would be a relief, not this tearing, ripping sensation that I’ve been cast adrift. It’s like an anchor point in my life is gone. There’s no going back from here.’
‘Talk to her tonight, even if she’s sleeping. It’s amazing what patients can remember after a crisis has passed.’
‘But will it pass?’
‘I don’t know.’
Georgina drew in a long shaky breath and patted her pockets looking for a hanky. Felicity held out her hand. ‘They may have found a room for you both by now. And I have to ring Ken.’
She dug her phone from her pocket and dialled as they walked. It went to message bank. ‘Hi Ken, it’s Felicity. Can you give me a call so I can update you on Mum’s condition? She’s not doing well so it would be good if you could come to Cairns to see her soon. Bye.’
Who knew if he was genuinely busy. It wouldn’t be the first time she’d left a message and never heard back. She tapped out a text and sent that as well. She’d send him a more detailed email if he still hadn’t bothered to ring by tonight.
Half an hour later a still sleeping Ivy was ensconced in a single room and a trolley bed had been made up for Georgina. Felicity gave her mother one last kiss on her drawn cheek. She held Ivy’s hand, her mother’s skin cool and papery under her touch, and checked the IV line wasn’t caught. For Felicity the smells and sounds of a hospital were comforting and familiar. She saw order where visitors saw only chaos.
She turned to Georgina. ‘Call. Any time. I’ll come back.’
‘Thank you.’ Georgina was composed again, but her cheekbones were sharper. Shadows bruised the skin beneath her eyes.
For a moment they dithered, Felicity not ready to leave but knowing she shouldn’t stay, Georgina seeming torn between wanting to leave and knowing that she needed to do this.
‘Okay.’ Felicity squared her shoulders. ‘See you in the morning. Try and get some sleep. None of this is easy.’
‘I’ll be fine. Go. You must be dropping.’
‘Yeah. Love you, Georgie.’
She swung on her heel and walked away, willing the tears not to fall. The lift pinged and Felicity automatically veered out of the way of arriving passengers.
‘Lissie!’ A large hand grabbed her and she started.
‘Mitch! What are you doing here?’
He pulled her close, wrapping her tight in his arms. ‘I’ve left the crew mustering. Ella rang with an update and I had to come. For Ivy. And for you.’
He smelt of cologne, of sweat and soap, familiar in deep memory from a childhood spent together, the intervening years apart nothing more than a hiccup. Beneath her ear she could feel the steady drumbeat of his heart.
‘Thank you,’ she murmured, raising tear-filled eyes to his. ‘She’s sleeping and Georgie is staying the night, but you can still see her if you like.’
‘I’ve not missed visiting hours?’
Felicity shook her head. ‘Usually, yes, but in this case . . .’
‘Oh.’ He swallowed, his eyes red. ‘Right.’
‘Come.’ Felicity took his hand, feeling the strength in the broad palm with its solid calluses as he gripped tight.
She peeped around the corner of the room. Georgina was nowhere in sight. She must have gone for a coffee. Felicity stepped aside, allowing Mitch past her.
He stopped and straightened his shoulders as though he could bear their load for them.
‘Is she conscious?’ he asked softly.
‘She’s on pain medication so she’s pretty drowsy.’
‘Righto.’ Mitch perched his big bulk on the edge of the bed and smoothed Ivy’s hair back from her face with the lightest of touches, his tanned hand dwarfing her pale face. She turned into his palm, but her eyes remained closed. He didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to.
Felicity turned away and looked to the ceiling. She’d known this day was drawing closer, but the suddenness of Ivy’s fall made it distressing. It was the end of an era and Felicity wasn’t ready to let her mother go, to farewell the last of that generation of Dunmores and Majors. She couldn’t bear the thought of walking through an empty Roseglen, saying goodbye to more than just her mother. She wanted the chance to drink another cup of sweet milky tea, elbows propped on the kitchen table, listening as Ivy dissected someone’s life in minute detail. She wanted to watch the childlike delight in Ivy’s face as she laid precise letters on a triple word score. She wanted to take her mother to lunch and smile as Ivy straightened the cutlery, lined up the napkin and complained they were paper not linen. She wanted to feel those bird-like hands pat her cheek one more time and tell her that she was proud of the woman she’d raised.
But she was sure that Ivy was slipping away. She might not last the night.
Behind her Mitch got to his feet. His warm hands cupped her shoulders. She swayed against him, wanting to find the courage she’d need to keep herself and everyone else together through the next few days.
‘Let’s get you home.’
She could only nod, knowing that speaking would open the floodgates. He held her hand the whole way down in the lift and didn’t let go as he angled her towards his car. She was grateful for his silence.
He started the engine.
‘Which way to Ella’s apartment?’ he asked. ‘She said you were all staying there for the night.’
‘Turn left,’ she said, ‘and then left onto the main highway. It’s not far.’
‘I remember how bewildered I was when Mum died. The breast cancer took her in six months. One minute she was joking with me in the kitchen, feeding me sausage and eggs, then suddenly she was a skeleton on borrowed time and Dad was telling me not to bother her. Not sure which way’s the hardest.’
‘I remember how quiet you were that summer. I was too young to understand the enormity of it.’
‘Some days Dad didn’t speak at all.’
Felicity looked across at him. ‘Must have been hard.’
He lifted a couple of fingers. ‘Ivy made up for it. She’d bring Mum up in conversations in a way that made her seem even more special. Your mum has a gift for that.’
‘Take the next right coming up.’ She pointed at the traffic lights, considering yet another side of Ivy.
‘Right.’ He reached across and placed his hand over hers where they twisted in her lap. ‘You’ve got Ivy’s strength and Charlie’s compassion. You’ll get through this, Lissie.’
She turned her hand over, linked fingers with his and allowed the delicious wave of awareness to chase away the sadness
for a moment. ‘I will, because we all have to deal with it sometime. It’s life. And death.’
‘Yeah.’
She leaned back against the headrest, the images of the afternoon piling in on each other. The serious face of the doctor, the concern in the eyes of the nurse as she explained that Ivy had another nose bleed, the fear in Georgie’s eyes as she realised the truth. As the pictures whirled in her mind, the warm strength of Mitch’s hand kept her anchored in the present.
Mitch held the door as she pulled the key free. His manners could still surprise her.
‘Tea? Coffee? Beer?’ she asked over her shoulder as she led the way into the open-plan kitchen in Ella’s apartment. Her daughter had sent a text to say she and Dan were heading back to the hospital and would be home later. She’d organised takeaway curries and left bedding out in the spare room. Felicity glanced at the couch. It did fold into a double bed, but it was never going to fit Mitch’s lanky frame. And where was Dan going to sleep tonight?
‘Tea would be great. White and one, please.’ Mitch looked around the spacious room with its modern furniture and white tiled floor. ‘This is nice. No wonder Ella didn’t want to give it up.’
‘Yeah, she’ll miss that view over the esplanade.’ The sun had almost slunk below the Great Dividing Range behind Cairns, turning the water in Trinity Bay to silver.
‘Regional Air must pay way better than mustering,’ he said as he stopped in front of the glass doors leading to the balcony.
‘Ella’s always been good at finding a bargain,’ Felicity said. ‘Did you eat on the way down?’
‘Just a pie at the servo. Joan sent her regards. I reckon the whole town had rung me by the time I hit the top of the range. Everyone’s worried about Ivy.’
‘Anyone heard from Ken?’
‘Not that they mentioned.’
‘Did he push her?’ Felicity had to ask. ‘Ella said she thought he was there?’
‘I don’t know,’ Mitch said. He walked across and propped against the corner of the stone bench, watching her brew the tea. ‘Maybe he’d been for coffee earlier. She told Ella she’d had a visitor. The kitchen was a mess. Nothing cleaned up, mugs out, milk not in the fridge. Sinbad was pretty agitated as well.’
‘But she didn’t say anything else?’
‘No, and we’ll never prove it unless she does tell us.’
‘He’s been pressuring her about the properties again,’ Felicity said as she dropped tea bags into two mugs. ‘Ella said she spoke to him before they left with the RFDS.’
‘Yeah and he didn’t seem to care at all. Made my blood boil. Pity Ella wouldn’t give me her phone or I would have told him some cold, hard facts.’
Felicity smiled. ‘Ella thinks the world of you. And so does Ivy.’
‘It’s not their opinions that matter, Felicity.’ There was no mistaking the intent in his steady gaze now.
‘I . . .’ She knew what she wanted to say, but right now she needed uncomplicated support. Just comfort, not butterflies turning somersaults in her stomach.
‘And now’s a bad time,’ he said. ‘But it’s something to think about. A lasting friendship is something worth hanging on to.’
‘Thank you.’ She pushed a cup towards him and turned to the oven where the boxes of curry were still warm. ‘Ella’s bought enough takeaway for an army.’ She was grateful for the distraction.
She laid the containers out on the benchtop. Surprisingly, her mouth watered at the smells. She reached into the cupboard and pulled out plates. ‘Help yourself,’ she said, adding serving spoons. ‘We do need to eat.’
They ate in silence, seated opposite each other at the small table, and she wondered what mealtime was like with Mitch living by himself. Same as for her, she guessed. She missed conversations around the table. Still craved family and all the messiness that came with it.
‘I promised her I’d take her home,’ Mitch said, tearing a naan in two. ‘I’m not going to be able to honour that, am I?’
Felicity blinked back tears at the sorrow in his voice. ‘Mum might surprise us yet, Mitch.’ She reached across and grabbed his hand, stopped him shredding the bread. ‘She’s got back on her feet before.’
‘But not from something that could paralyse her.’ His nostrils were pinched and Felicity could only grip tighter. ‘It’s worse than losing my mum,’ he said. ‘I know that probably doesn’t make sense, but Mrs D was my friend. I’ll miss her enormously.’ Tears spilled down his weathered cheeks.
Felicity rose and walked around behind him. She was used to giving comfort. It was taking comfort that was hard. His shoulders hunched forwards, but he was too broad for her to wrap her arms around him. She rested her chin on his head, her arms loose on his shoulders.
Mitch turned in his seat, pulling her onto his lap. Warmth rippled and ran through her blood. ‘Sorry, Lissie, she’s your mum, not mine.’ His voice was ragged still, his eyes damp.
‘Friends can be even more important than family. We choose our friends. And Ivy chose wisely.’
He lowered his head and feathered a kiss across her lips. There was love there, but no sexual heat. A touch of tenderness, of understand, of a lifetime of friendship. In the middle of sorrow finding joy was unexpected, and poignant, and special. The comfort in his brief kiss, the strength of his arms, released a deluge of tears she’d held onto so tightly.
He let her cry in silence, stroking her back. She cuddled against his chest, feeling ten years old again with a broken arm. He’d always been able to put the world to rights.
The storm of grief subsided as her tears ran dry and she made a move to get up. His arm tightened and his hand slid to her hair, smoothing it flat and curling it behind her ear.
‘Just rest awhile,’ he said. She tilted her head and met his gaze. His cheeks were damp and the toll of the day etched in the brackets around his mouth and the hollows beneath his eyes.
‘Ella and Dan will be back from the hospital soon,’ she said.
‘You worry too much.’
‘It’s my job.’
‘Not tonight. Tonight you’re allowed to grieve before you have to be strong again tomorrow.’
His lips were warm on her forehead and her eyes fluttered closed.
‘You don’t have to do this alone, Lissie.’
But she knew that she had to do it alone. Felicity Dunmore had to stand on her own two feet first. Only then might there be room for someone else in her heart.
Was someone snoring in her room? Ivy tried to move, but her head was heavy. The dreadful mask covering her nose caught on something and she couldn’t free it. She peered in the dim light. There was a stretcher next to her and the figure under the thin hospital blanket was long and lanky. She managed to roll over, the soft support collar keeping her neck straight, and squinted, wishing she had her glasses.
‘Georgina? Is that you?’ Her voice wasn’t even a croak. The snoring continued, but she recognised it now. She cleared her throat and tried again. ‘Georgina!’ This time the snoring stopped and the figure shot up, hair flattened on one side and T-shirt awry.
‘Mum, what’s wrong?’
‘What are you doing here?’ Ivy wanted to snatch the words back as soon as they were uttered. Hurt flickered across Georgina’s face. It’s obvious why her daughter was sleeping beside her, but Ivy thought it would be Lissie, not Georgina, who took the night watch. She didn’t wish to be ungrateful, but if something went wrong in a hospital one wanted a nurse on hand, not a pilot.
Georgina swung her legs over the side of the bed and ran a hand through her hair. ‘We were worried about you.’
Ivy snorted behind the oxygen mask. ‘I’m not dying, you know.’ She felt invigorated, as though the deep dream-filled sleep had worked a miracle, even though her body seemed sluggish.
‘You were out of it last night.’
She lifted the mask. ‘Pain medication never has agreed with me.’
‘You came back from the tests pretty wrung out.’
‘Of course. They put you in those blessed machines and tell you to lie perfectly still. That’s a little hard to do if you can’t get comfortable. Where’s Lissie?’
‘At home. There was only room for one.’ Georgie tugged at her shirt, looking groggy and a long way from her usual regimented self.
‘I see.’ Why, Ivy thought, did she find it impossibly hard to say thank you to her eldest? ‘What time is it?’
Georgina squinted at the clock on the wall. ‘Almost six. How are you feeling?’
‘Like I’ve fallen off a horse . . . or a quad bike.’
Georgina laughed as Ivy continued.
‘You know I took you riding when you were only six months old? Wrapped you in a sling and strapped you across me. You were a handful, but you loved the horses. It was one of the only ways to make sure you slept.’
‘What about Ken?’
‘Oh, no. He hated horses from the start. Makes it even more surprising he’s bothered to stay on the land really.’
‘You said something last night . . .’
Georgina was uncharacteristically hesitant. Oh, dear, Ivy thought. What did she say? It was all a blur. ‘What was that, dear?’
‘You said something about waiting too long for me, but Ken needed something.’
‘Ah?’ she stalled. ‘I don’t remember, dear. The drugs . . .’
‘So you were hallucinating.’ Georgina sounded relieved.
Ivy’s heart was racing. It sent a pain through her side and she tried to drag in a couple of deep breaths. Would the truth set her free, now? Or would it burn everything in its path?
A nurse came in, clipboard in hand, and the moment was gone. ‘Mrs Dunmore, you’re awake. Perfect timing. Looks like you slept well. No dramas recorded here. And how did you sleep, love?’ she asked Georgina as she sidestepped to get to Ivy. ‘Would you like to order some breakfast? I can sort that out for you. Or the cafeteria opens at six, if you prefer.’
‘Thanks, I’ll sort something out,’ Georgina said, flattening herself against the wall.
The nurse gave her a pointed look. ‘We’ll be a little while.’
