by Joanne Hill
Daniel sat uncomfortably on a chair at the tiny built-for-two table, while Mel sat on the sofa, and handed her mother a stack of brand new paperbacks.
As she took them out, clearly thrilled, he noticed her mother could only use one arm.
Frustration ground into him as he glanced around the apartment. It was tidy, but could use new wallpaper, paint, furniture, and the kitchenette looked like it was from the seventies. Why on earth hadn’t Mel mentioned her mother was an invalid? He’d gotten used to that kind of life, for heaven’s sake. Sir Arthur had been ailing for years.
Ellie Green sat in a wheelchair, glancing speculatively at him. Mel had lifted Barnaby onto Ellie’s lap where she was stroking him and where Barnaby apparently considered himself royalty. Mel had her mother’s eyes. Blue, and sharp as hell. Ellie’s hair was lighter though, a deep blonde with strands of grey that sat around her neck. Mel had introduced him as Daniel, said she was his housekeeper for the next few months while she looked around for another school job.
“Ready?” Mel said then.
Ellie glanced across at Daniel. She was clearly intrigued by him, and he stood up uncomfortably, wishing he’d bought her something. Even flowers or chocolates. But then he’d had a vision of pulling up to a modern retirement complex with tennis courts, spa treatments, and happy hour around the pool with chardonnay.
Not a poky apartment with a woman in a wheelchair.
He automatically took the handles of the chair and wheeled her into the hall. Mel locked the door behind them. He was used to pushing Sir Arthur around but this wheel chair was antiquated in comparison.
“Where are we headed, Mrs Green?” he asked.
Her good hand was on Barnaby. The dog was used to this and, Daniel thought wryly, clearly used to the attention from other residents they wheeled past.
“Just up the road to the shops,” she said. “And call me Ellie.”
They were walking up the road with this thing? He hoped the footpaths were in good condition.
“Mum can get around with a walker but she hates it in public because she feels old."
"Ancient, not just old," Ellie quipped.
What had happened to her, he wondered. She looked only to be in her early sixties, possibly even younger.
At the entrance, some more residents stopped to pat Barnaby, and Daniel used the distraction to take Mel aside. “Why didn’t you tell me your mother was an invalid?”
Her eyes held determination. “What would it have accomplished?”
She shrugged off his arm, but tension continued to ripple between them. He could feel it, taste it.
They moved out to the street, and Mel said, “The shops are up here around the corner. I bring Mum down a couple of times a week so we can have morning tea and a look around.”
He pushed the wheelchair over a bump, trying to make the ride as smooth as possible. “I’m sure most malls are wheelchair friendly,” he suggested.
Mel’s face darkened, and as they stopped at a set of lights, she took Barnaby from her mother and set him down. “I should let him walk now, Mum. He hasn’t had a walk today.”
She stood up and as they crossed the road, with Barnaby straining at the leash, she explained, “We stay to trips around here so we don’t have to go too far from the rest home.”
He glanced down at Ellie. At a guess she might tire easily or need medication but she didn’t resemble a person who needed round the clock care – like his grandfather.
“What’s the problem with being far from the rest home?” he broached curiously.
Mel hesitated. “My car isn’t big enough to fit the wheelchair.”
“And that’s the only reason you can’t go farther afield?”
“Pretty much.”
Ellie had caught part of their conversation, and she said, “It doesn’t matter, Daniel, I’m terribly lucky to have Mel. A lot of people don’t have families to look after them. Mel’s been right by my side since the stroke.”
A stroke. That made sense. He’d noted she had come unstuck a few times thinking of words, and she didn’t have good use of one side of her body. Still, the idea that anyone could give a relative over to the hands of care givers fulltime was foreign to him. Although, he thought grimly, his brothers were content to do just that. They’d abrogated responsibility towards Arthur and at times he wondered how far his brotherly love and sense of duty would extend to them. But no. He could never desert Sean and Everett. Blood ran thick. You had to be able to count on something.
You had to be able to count on your family, as Ellie counted on Mel.
“The newer model wheelchairs are even lighter than this,” he commented, and he leant closer to Ellie. “My grandfather has been ill for some time and for the last few months has only been able to get around by wheelchair. His nursing staff wheel him around his home without any trouble, in spite of the slopes in the grounds.”
“Your grandfather has his own nurses at his own house?” she said, puzzled.
Heat burnt his face. “He’s in hospital now. But I think a newer model might fit in the back of Mel’s car.”
There was an uncomfortable silence, and he glanced across at Mel. Her face looked darker, strained, uncomfortable. What on earth had he said now?
They had reached the strip of shops and Mel said tightly, “It’s the first café with the outdoor seating. The Blue Dove Café.”
She shot a glance at Ellie, and saw a look pass between the two of them. Ellie gave her daughter a look of reassurance, mouthed something like “It’s okay.” Mel nodded, but across her face sat a look of sadness. Maybe even regret.
Daniel gripped the bars of the wheelchair tighter as they approached the outdoor tables of the café. What on earth had he said?
Then in a flash, he understood.
He could have kicked his own ass from here to Africa.
If they could afford a new model, they would have one. If Mel had a newer bigger car, she would not be pushing her mother down a bumpy footpath to a strip shopping centre that didn’t have a heck of a lot going for it.
The understanding slammed him so hard and fast, it was like a heavy, solid punch to his gut.
Why on earth had she, just weeks after being jilted, entered into this arrangement with him? It wasn’t for herself
She had done it for her mother.
Mel said, “This table is fine.”
Her face was pink and she avoided looking him in the eye. He moved uncomfortably as he positioned Ellie around the table and used his foot to anchor the brake.
Fool, he cursed himself, as he dug into his pocket for his wallet, and told them it was his treat because it was the minimum, the absolute minimum, he could do. You damned, stupid fool.
The drive home was in a tension laden silence that filled the car so absolutely Mel wondered how either of them were able to breathe. Barnaby had picked up on the tension as well. Each time she glanced around, he was lying on the back seat, his head on his paws, his brown eyes glancing from one to the other. Sir Arthur had been right. He was a very astute fellow.
They rode silently up into the lift together and had barely stepped foot in Daniel’s apartment when he said, “Before I go any further, I want you to explain to me just why you couldn’t tell me about your mother.”
“Does it matter?”
“Yes,” he thundered. “Yes it darn well matters. You knew about Arthur.”
She reeled at his anger. “We were married because of Arthur. It’s a moot point. ”
His eyes blazed. “Yet you couldn’t share this with me? Why? Were you embarrassed about your mother?
She spun on him. “How dare you even suggest it.”
“Did you think I couldn’t handle being around a woman in a wheelchair, that I’d pass judgement on her?”
She didn’t know what to say because it was exactly what she had thought. Shock slowly covered his face.
“Is that what this is?” His voice dropped a deadly octave. He gripped her upper arms, ma
de her look him straight in the eye. “Tell me that's not what this is about.”
“This has nothing to do with you.”
“You made a fool out of me today, Mel, so yes, it damn well is something to do with me. You had plenty of time to tell me about Ellie. We had a thirty minute ride in the car for Pete’s sake.”
He dropped her arms but his face flared with anger. He was right of course. She should have mentioned it.
“Okay.” She closed her eyes, drew a breath, then hesitated.
He folded his arms. “I’m waiting.”
“It’s to do with Max.”
“Max?” He went still.
Her heart was beating so loud in her chest she was positive he could hear it.
“What on earth has he got to do with this when he’s out of the picture?” He paused. “Isn’t he?”
“He is well out of it.” She took a deep breath. “Max and I started dating just months before Mum had her stroke. And he was fine. It was a mild stroke in comparison to a lot of other people so we always knew she’d have a good chance of coming right. The first few weeks I took leave from my job to be at the hospital to care for mum and settle her in at my flat. Then when we realised she couldn’t go back to her own place, she waited until an apartment came up where she is now. But what I didn’t realise, as the months went by, was that Max was finding it harder to cope with everything surrounding the stroke. I’m Mum’s closest relative so it fell to me to take care of a lot of things.”
“And he became jealous,” he said matter of factly.
“Maybe it was jealousy. I didn’t think so at the time. He started having an affair with my flatmate, Julia. I only found out when he texted me to say the wedding was off.” She didn’t even attempt to contain the bitterness in her voice. “But that wasn’t the only reason.”
“Go on.”
“He left because…” She met his gaze squarely. “He left because he did not want to be tied down to someone with an invalid mother. He didn’t want to have anything to do with a future that was uncertain. What if Mum had another stroke, or a severe one and she needed around the clock care? Who would pay for it? Who would take her to the doctors, who would care for her? He didn’t want a bar of that kind of commitment. So he bailed.”
There was silence, so quiet she could hear the solid pounding of her heart.
Daniel said, “I find that despicable.”
She looked up, shocked to find his eyes colder than before. “But I find it even more despicable that you would even consider I could behave like that. That you would assume I would have the same feelings. Especially when you know how close I am to my grandfather.”
Even as he spoke, the comparison between Arthur and her mother came to mind in a fury, and frustration grew in her until she spun on him, her fists clenched at her sides. “And what did you do exactly Daniel? What did you do? Did you feed him his meals? No, because you had nurses to do that. Did you go and get the medication, or go with him to the doctors? No, because the doctors came to your place, and there was always someone else to get the medication, administer the medication. You have probably never so much as counted out an aspirin and filled a glass of water.”
She saw the second it hit home. She turned to find Barnaby at her feet looking up.
She ignored Daniel, ignored the rushing of blood in her veins, and she went to get the dog biscuits, and changed the bowl of water. It was a diversion, she knew, but right now she couldn’t look at him. Because what she had spoken was the truth. She’d made a judgement and he’d made one right back.
His phone suddenly rang, and he slid it open with a curt hello.
She watched as his face went tight, then he said a few short words before he ended the call.
He swallowed hard, and set the phone on the counter. For a moment he stood statue-still, the only part of him moving his chest as he breathed in and out.
“Is everything okay?” she asked.
“No.” He reached for his keys and looked straight at her. “No, it’s not.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
Hugh and Daniel talked in the corner of the hospital room, their voices hushed. Every so often, Daniel looked towards his grandfather, flicked a glance at Mel, then turn away.
The sense of unavoidable loss in the room covered them like a thunderous cloud ready to burst, even though Sir Arthur was already lost to them. His heart continued to beat, and blood still trickled through his veins, but he would not come out of this. The likelihood that at his age it would go longer than a few days was medically improbable given the health complications he had endured these past weeks. The doctor had said three days at the most.
Daniel came over to her and pulled up a padded chair. He braced his elbows on his knees, and buried his face in his hands.
Mel raised her hand to touch him, to offer what comfort she could, then quickly let her hand drop. She clasped them tightly together in her lap.
A normal wife would have touched him. Would have placed her hand across her husband’s back as if to say, “I’m here,” and he would have taken the comfort. Wrapped himself in her and let himself be held to absorb the grief.
She was not a normal wife but she ached to do it, all the same. She glanced up at the wedding photo on Sir Arthur’s bedside table. Tears pricked her eyes.
Hugh came over, clapped Daniel on his back. “You’ve been here for hours. You need to go home, get some rest, get something to eat. You can’t do anything for him here.”
Daniel’s jaw was tense as he looked over at his grandfather. “I can be here for him. Make sure he’s not on his own.”
“I’ll be here, Dan. He won’t be alone. You go and take care of yourself. It’s what he would want you to do. Come back in a few hours.”
“I’ll make something to eat at home,” Mel added. He looked at her in the same way Hugh had, an odd expression she couldn’t decipher.
“Go,” Hugh ordered.
Daniel drove, and as they approached the apartment foyer, he said, “I’m going to take a shower and change. Then head back to the hospital.”
“But Hugh said –”
“I don’t give a damn what Hugh said.”
“Do you want me to come with you?”
He hesitated. “You’re not my wife, Mel. Wives don’t keep secrets.” He went to punch in his ID code. “You stay here in the apartment. You just – stay here.”
She took a step back at the vitriol in his voice.
“Mr Christie?” The building security guard approached and Daniel turned impatiently around. “What is it?”
“Mr Christie.” The guard’s voice was grave. “I’ve been trying to reach you.”
“I’ve had a family emergency.” Daniel was curt. “I’ve been at the hospital all day. Can this wait until the morning?”
The guard shook his head. “No. I don’t believe it can. Mr Christie, have you seen your dog today?”
In the lift, Mel’s heart pounded so fast, she thought she was going to pass out. Barnaby is home, Barnaby is home, she told herself, over and over again, as the lift stopped at Daniel’s apartment.
A small dog fitting Barnaby’s description had been seen trotting out of the lift several hours ago. But it couldn’t possibly be Barnaby. They’d brought him straight back after visiting Ellie. Mel had filled his water bowl and given him biscuits to eat, and he had been in the apartment. It was illogical to think he wasn’t there because he couldn’t get out. The elevator door stopped at the top floor and opened, Daniel strode across to the foyer to the door, swiped his card and pushed open the door. Mel followed as they went straight to the basket. It was empty.
Her heart began to double-time it. “Barnaby,” she yelled, as she ran through to the lounge.
“Barnaby!” Daniel yelled louder. There was anger in his voice, anger she’d never heard before. They checked bathrooms and bedrooms, opened cupboards and looked behind furniture. There was no click-clack sound of paws on floorboards, no barking, no growling.
> Daniel unlocked the balcony door and they stepped out – it was impossible he would be there. The door was locked. But then, Mel thought, confused, it was impossible he had vanished.
The guard had told them that an elderly couple had been waiting for the lift to descend. When the doors opened, a little dog had stepped out and trotted off. They had no idea who the dog belonged to or where he had come from, and had reported the sighting to the guard. The guard had called the few residents who had dogs, and had left messages on Daniel’s home line and cell. Daniel had switched his phone off while they’d been at the hospital.
They met back by Barnaby’s empty basket and Mel hugged herself against the sudden cold shivering through her body. “How could he have gotten out? The door was locked. He was here when we left. He can’t go down in the lift by himself.”
Daniel massaged his forehead, worry lines creasing around his eyes. “I was waiting here for you.” He swallowed, and the noise was loud in the eerie silence. “Barnaby was eating dog biscuits. I went back to get my phone from the counter.” His voice dropped. “I grabbed a glass of water, you came through.”
“When we came back to the foyer, the lift had already gone down,” she remembered. “We had to press the button. It took a while for it to come back up.”
“Barnaby could have stepped inside, thinking he was going out again for a walk. The old lady had pressed the button, and the lift went down.”
“So we must have just missed him. Barnaby might have been…” She couldn’t bring herself to say the words. He could have been mere metres away. They might have passed him in the street and not been aware of him. Because they “knew” he was upstairs, safe and sound, in the apartment.
“Then that makes the time that he went out…” She mentally backtracked and felt sick. “Nearly three hours ago.”
Daniel grabbed his keys and Mel grabbed his leash and bag of dog biscuits. “He can’t have gone far with those short legs,” she told him, hoping her voice sounded more reassuring than she felt.
Daniel didn’t answer. His body language said it all. His face grim, his body taut, his eyes harder than she’d ever seen them. This was Sydney. A city of four million people. Panic slapped her hard. And one little dog wandering the streets would barely be noticed.
