The Start of Something New

by Stacey Nash

  Sun filtering through the open door warmed her back. It seemed wrong that a day like this wasn’t overcast and rainy, as miserable as the people who ‘celebrated’ the life of someone they’d loved dearly. And that was the problem with loving—it always came to an end.

  Chapter 28

  Hannah’s ute spluttered like it was coughing up a carburettor. The fuel gauge sat a smidge above empty, same as it had for the past week. She knew this car though; she could get almost thirty clicks out of it after the gauge had hit the red line. She probably shouldn’t have driven, but she’d tried to call work more than once and the phone reception had been shoddy all week—even the landline was playing up. Besides, she had a cheque to collect from the bank, and Pop’s ashes … Heartache sliced the thought and stole her breath.

  She swung into the Ace’s carpark then cut the engine quickly lest it waste any fuel. There needed to be some shifts for her on the roster or this car would be garaged. She crossed her fingers as she walked around the side of the building and approached the front door. With their buyer demanding a price cut, both she and Jase had spent the past week on their phones trying every last contact they had, but no luck had swung Burton Park’s way. She’d paid as many bills as she could, so now both she and the farm were flat broke. Well, other than the loan money. Thank goodness Pop had had the foresight to prepay his funeral years earlier.

  Hannah kissed her fingers before uncrossing them, then pushed through the heavy double doors into the pub. Max, Chook and Doley were the only ones there, hunched up around the main bar laughing with Jonno, who seemed to be the sole survivor of the roster massacre.

  He stopped smiling when he spotted Hannah approaching and shook his head with a sorry smile.

  ‘Still?’ Hannah asked.

  ‘Afraid so, love. Though hopefully things will start changin’ soon.’

  ‘They’d better,’ Hannah replied as she turned to leave. ‘I really need the money.’

  ‘I’d pay ya myself if I could.’

  ‘I know, Jonno. It’s not your fault.’ The doors felt heavier than ever as she forced them open against the cold air. Hannah strolled down the main street to the bank, where she collected the loan cheque. When she walked out of the front entrance her attention cut across the road to Queen Victoria Park. To the lone figure sitting on a park bench that faced towards the pub. Something about the puffy-jacketed man tickled her sixth sense.

  Shoving cold hands in her pockets she walked back to the car at speed.

  ‘Hannah!’

  The rough voice shouting her name sent cold prickles racing across her shoulders. She ducked her head and walked faster.

  ‘Hannah.’ Feet slapped against the pavement behind her. ‘Please, I’d like to speak with you.’

  Her fingers tingled.

  ‘Please?’ The desperation in his voice pulled her up. Besides, if she shouted from here, under the awning of the Ace, Jonno would hear. Slowly, she turned around to face Andy Clifton and her fear dropped away. His rumpled clothes matched the shagginess of his beanie-covered hair. Fingerless gloves revealed nails bitten down to the quick. She hadn’t seen him up close for years; he’d changed dramatically from the once impeccable school dux.

  ‘I just wanted to tell you that … umm …’ He glanced at his dirty sneakers, removed the beanie and clutched the navy wool as if it was a lifeline. ‘I’m sorry.’

  Hannah blinked.

  ‘I’m sorry for not listening to what you were saying. For treating you like you didn’t know what you wanted. I’m sorry for being a tool.’

  Hannah swallowed. She couldn’t bring herself to say ‘that’s alright’ because it wasn’t. ‘It was a long time ago.’

  Andy scratched at his wiry, unmanaged beard. ‘I … ah … shouldn’t have left it so long to tell you.’

  Hannah shifted from one foot to the other, glancing back at the pub’s double doors.

  ‘I shouldn’t have forced myself on you. I’m sorry.’

  Swallowing, she looked right into his pleading eyes.

  ‘I’m so sorry.’

  If she heard those two words one more time … ‘Thank you for apologising.’

  As she walked away from Andy, Hannah didn’t feel scared or even angry anymore, she just felt sorry for him. The guy looked like a hot mess. That night had affected them both, she realised, but he was the one with the lasting damage.

  ***

  Hannah’s eyes welled up just looking at the funeral parlour, so she returned to the ute and climbed behind the wheel. There was nothing else to do in town. She’d only chosen today to drive in because Fridays were roster day and she needed to know if she was working at all this week.

  Sticking her keys in the ignition, Hannah turned them and the ute spluttered, much like it had done before. Only this time it didn’t turn over. It just coughed and wheezed and heaved. She dropped her head onto the wheel and cursed under her breath before grabbing her phone to call Jase. She swiped a thumb over the screen. It remained black. She jabbed at the wake-up button. Still nothing. Growling with frustration, she reached for her purse before climbing out.

  The cool air brushed against her nape, so Hannah reached inside for her scarf, which she wrapped around her neck, and slammed the door. A two-block walk to Cooper’s wasn’t far, but she wasn’t looking forward to the grovelling she’d need to do after she’d been stupid enough to let her car’s petrol tank run dry. She wouldn’t tell him about the dead phone. Although, a good ribbing might make her feel less guilty at what she’d said to him at the funeral. She’d apologised at the wake, but those words were cruel and undeserved. An apology couldn’t take them away.

  Shoving her cold hands in her jacket pockets, Hannah set off towards the townhouses. At the corner of the post office, a sharp bang rang through the air. A cat darted across the path, and Hannah stumbled, catching her balance with a hand on the brickwork. She cursed at the animal, watching it disappear down the gutter. As she passed the Great Western she noticed Morgan’s car still sitting out front of his room. She could have turned in; he’d help her. Morgan always did. But after the way they’d last parted, the thought of seeing him made her heart hurt. Her twin was most definitely the easier option.

  The corner of the motel’s reception swallowed her view of the green hatchback and Hannah swung her attention to Cooper’s apartment. Hopefully he was home and she wouldn’t have to wait. Coming to her rescue would be just the type of thing that would float her brother’s boat. But she was no damsel.

  The smell of dirty wood clouded the air. Some fool must’ve had their fire burning crap. Hannah turned the corner of the fence into the driveway Cooper shared with the other townhouses and her purse dropped from her fingers. It smacked against the ground, followed by her keys.

  A trail of smoke danced out of the kitchen window, snaking up into the sky.

  Hannah watched it rising, rising, rising until it melted into the clouds above. Mesmerising in its movement the smoke was almost like a life in the way it started off strong and faded to nothing at the end. Pop hadn’t been like that … he had been solid every step of the way.

  ‘Help! Someone get help!’ Morgan’s voice cut through Hannah’s daze and she snapped back to the present. To the fire eating Cooper’s house.

  Shit, Cooper.

  Thick smoke billowed out of the window, out of the open door, and loud pops pierced the night.

  Feet pounded past her. Morgan’s back became her view. Like hell he’s rushing in there. It isn’t safe. Hannah grabbed his arm, pulling him behind her and using his weight to propel herself forward. She raced for the gaping front door and, using her scarf as a glove, yanked it the rest of the way open.

  An inferno of heat slapped her in the face, but Hannah had to find her twin Don’t die, Coop.

  She coughed and blinked against the haze then dropped onto all fours. ‘Cooper!’

  Her twin didn’t answer.

  Scurrying forward and using one hand to feel, Hannah couldn’t make o
ut much at all. ‘Cooper!’

  Still nothing. Fear punched her in the gut.

  A dark lump appeared straight ahead. The growing fire popped and crackled as she reached the shape. Her hand closed around a hard calf, and Hannah shook for all she was worth. ‘Cooper.’

  He didn’t budge.

  Through the haze, she could just make out his face. She scurried up and slapped him hard on the cheek. He still didn’t move. Heart lodged in her throat, Hannah pressed her fingers against his pulse point. A steady thump, thump met her fingertips.

  She shook him again. ‘Come on, you oaf. Wake up.’

  Something cracked so loud she flinched. She grabbed her twin’s feet, hoicked them over her shoulders, and heaved forward.

  ‘Hannah.’ Far away, Morgan called.

  The smoke glowed orange and Hannah’s heart pounded in her throat. She couldn’t leave him here. She couldn’t leave him to die. She heaved again. Cooper slid forward two inches. Again and again. Her shoulders burned. The fire grew. She coughed and coughed and coughed. Her next breath jammed halfway in.

  They were both going to die.

  ‘Hannah?’

  ‘Over here,’ she yelled to Morgan. ‘I can’t carry him.’

  Morgan suddenly appeared through the haze and raced past her. Cooper’s weight lightened. She swung around, grabbing her brother’s feet in her hands and dragged, dragged, dragged.

  ‘Almost there,’ Morgan panted through coughs.

  The roar was so loud Hannah feared the flames might push them right out the door.

  Hannah burst through the door amidst a plume of smoke.

  A loud crack sliced through all the other noises. Embers flew into the air. Sirens screamed. Out here, they sounded like noise from a TV muted through walls.

  She heaved Coop forward, but this time he barely moved, as if she no longer had help to shift his weight.

  It felt like smoke was filling her aching lungs and Hannah coughed and hacked and coughed.

  ‘Hannah, over here. Sit down,’ said a female voice. A hand on her shoulder piloted her away from the house.

  A fire truck screeched to a stop in the driveway and voices shouted, yelling instructions. Two seconds later a stream of water hit the building.

  ‘Drink this. It might help your coughing.’ The woman thrust a water bottle into her hand.

  ‘Cooper,’ Hannah rasped. ‘He needs help.’

  ‘The ambulance is here now.’ A hand rubbed her back. Hannah looked up at the woman, whose greying hair hung forward almost obscuring the Great Western logo embroidered on her blouse. Head spinning, Hannah tipped back. The hard concrete hit her shoulders then her head.

  ***

  Hannah snapped to consciousness. ‘Morgan!’ She shot up. ‘Morgan. Is he out?’

  The hulking fire truck blocked her view of the townhouse and the roar of water splashing against the structure engulfed any voices. Cracks and pops rose above it, like someone had let off fireworks. The motel lady grabbed Hannah by the arm, holding her back, but Hannah was too strong. She broke free of the woman’s grip and ran around the truck, then stopped dead at the sight of smoke smouldering from the charred body of the ruined townhouse. The building’s skeleton showed in places, scorched timber peeking through broken bricks. The front door had completely gone.

  A tight grip pulled her back, and that was when Hannah saw the ambulance crew loading her brother onto a stretcher.

  She vomited all over the pavement.

  ‘You need to sit down.’

  An aluminium blanket crackled as it was put in place around her shoulders, while Hannah watched her twin, her life, the only person who’d really ever lived in her shoes, be wheeled away.

  A kindly lady appeared in front of her. ‘You’re going to be okay, but I need you to lie down.’

  Hannah frowned, looking towards the broken house. Where was Morgan?

  The lady pushed her down gently. Hannah’s butt hit the ground, followed by her shoulders, then something was shoved under her feet and knees.

  ‘My boyfriend—I mean my …’ She tried to get up, but the woman pressed down on her shoulder. Hannah coughed. ‘Morgan, where is he?’

  ‘You need to stay here for a bit. What’s your name, love?’

  ‘Hannah.’

  ‘Okay, Hannah. Can you tell me what day it is?’ The lady shone a light in her eyes.

  ‘Friday.’

  Pressed her fingers to Hannah’s wrist. ‘And where are you?’

  ‘At my—’ Hannah coughed, her aching lungs heaving for fresh air. ‘My brother’s house.’

  ‘And your brother is?’

  ‘Cooper Burton. Is he okay?’

  The paramedic placed her hand on the ground by Hannah’s side.

  ‘What about Morgan?’

  ‘Just a few more minutes, lovely, then you can sit up.’

  Why wouldn’t they answer her questions? He had to be okay. She wasn’t sure she could bear losing him. Her life was already too empty. At least she knew Coop had a pulse, he was breathing. Morgan though—did he even make it outside? Coop had gotten mighty heavy right after the door caved in.

  Hannah pushed up off the ground, but the woman stopped her from standing with a firm hand on the shoulder. ‘Not too quick.’

  Readjusting the silver sheet, Hannah looked past the paramedic crouched in front of her. Past the firies standing around with their hoses. Past the truck blocking her view of the rest of the driveway.

  And there he was. Sitting on the ground, much the same as her, wrapped in silver with a couple of people crouched around him. Their gazes locked and Hannah’s being felt as though it sighed in relief. She’d never been happier to see anyone in her whole life as she was to set eyes on Morgan Harris right then.

  Maybe she had it wrong all this time. Maybe being hurt wasn’t the worst thing that could happen. Maybe not giving anyone the chance to get close was far worse.

  Hannah pushed away from the ambulance lady and raced across the concrete to Morgan, where she dropped to the ground beside him, checking his hands, his feet, his face for any sign of injuries.

  ‘Hannah,’ he rasped out, his voice just as croaky as hers. ‘Hannah.’ His lips pressed against hers and Hannah kissed him softly, tenderly, as if he was the most precious thing in the world. She laid tiny kisses along his cheek, his jaw, his ear, his forehead, and came back to his mouth. Morgan returned her kiss with just as much care and when they broke apart, he pulled her to him and asked, ‘Is Cooper okay?’

  ‘I think so.’ His stubble scratched against Hannah’s singed cheek, but she didn’t care. ‘They wheeled him away, but he was breathing when we pulled him out.’

  ‘Thank god.’

  Someone cleared their throat and Hannah looked up at the paramedic who’d taken care of her. She held out keys and a wallet. ‘Are these your, love?’

  Hannah took her belongings. ‘Thanks.’

  ‘They’ve taken your brother to hospital.’

  Hannah pulled away from Morgan and pushed up onto her feet. She strode past the fire truck and Morgan caught up with her just as she reached the ambulance.

  ‘Neither of you are driving,’ the paramedic called behind them.

  ‘I can walk,’ Hannah responded without stopping.

  ‘Not likely. Hop in our chariot.’ The woman jogged up behind them and pointed inside the back of the ambulance. Hannah swallowed the fear clogging her throat. There were so many machines and equipment. Every time she’d seen one of these ‘chariots’ an important life had been stolen from her.

  ‘Come on.’ Morgan caught her hand and stepped inside the thing.

  Hannah took in the white van hulking above her that no one she knew had ever come out of alive. A small tug on her hand and Hannah’s eyes locked with Morgan’s. Honest, pure, and strong, he was someone she could trust with her life. She’d always known that, even back when he’d jumped in the river with her in his arms. She’d just needed reminding.

  Hannah climbed inside
the emergency vehicle.

  ‘Sit on the bench and buckle up.’ The other ambulance officer got in the back with them, pulling the doors closed behind herself. Hannah and Morgan both clipped themselves in, side by side, and the van reversed. She found his hand again and held it tight all the way to the hospital.

  Chapter 29

  Morgan sat in the waiting room, watching Hannah pace. They’d been ushered there when they arrived and told that Cooper was in the emergency department. Nothing else.

  ‘Jase!’ Hannah exclaimed, turning to face Morgan. ‘I need to call Jase and Mum.’

  Morgan patted down his pockets only to find they were empty. Hannah’s stricken expression told him that hers were the same. ‘I’m on it.’ He rose off the chair and strode towards the nurse’s station where a round-cheeked woman looked up from her computer.

  ‘We need to call my friend’s family. He’s in Emergency and neither of us has a phone.’

  The woman smiled. ‘There’s a pay phone just around the corner.’

  ‘I—ah—’ He grimaced. ‘Don’t have a wallet on me either. Is there another way we could make a call?’

  ‘You’re that counsellor, aren’t you?’ She readjusted the mouthpiece on her handsfree set.

  Morgan nodded.

  ‘Here.’ The woman passed him a mobile through the gap under the window. ‘Don’t go too far away.’

  ‘Thank you.’ Morgan dished out a smile. ‘I really appreciate it.’

  The nurse grinned back and Morgan stepped to the side, but stayed in view as he dialled Burton Park’s number, a little surprised he still remembered it after all these years.

  ‘Hello,’ Kate answered.

  ‘Hi, Mrs B. It’s Morgan. Is Jase about?’

  ‘He’s at his place, honey. Have you got the number?’

  Morgan grazed his bottom lip between his teeth, making a snap decision. ‘I’m calling because Cooper’s in hospital. We think he’s okay, but—’

  ‘Oh my. What happened? No, don’t waste time telling me. We’re coming.’ She hung up on him. Morgan exhaled slowly then handed the phone back to the kind nurse with his thanks.