Promise

by Sarah Armstrong

  ‘Okay. It’s okay. I’m coming in with you. Don’t worry,’ said Anna.

  Pat parked the car and pulled the handbrake on hard. ‘No, Anna. Don’t be stupid. Don’t risk it.’

  ‘She wants me in there.’

  ‘No.’ He put his face in his hands. ‘It’s madness. Don’t do it. She needs a doctor, she doesn’t need you.’

  Charlie whimpered.

  ‘You don’t have to come in, Pat,’ said Anna.

  Charlie whispered, ‘You’ll stay with me, won’t you, Anna? Please, please, please.’

  ‘I’ll stay with you.’ Anna stroked Charlie’s shoulder.

  Pat exhaled hard and ran his hand down his face. ‘You’re not thinking straight.’

  ‘I’m staying with her.’

  He sighed. ‘Okay. Let’s go.’

  He came around to open the passenger door and spoke briskly. ‘So you’re her mum and I’m a friend and you left your Medicare card at home.’

  ‘We’re pretending that I’m your mum, okay, Charlie?’ said Anna.

  The girl didn’t respond.

  ‘Your name is Annie,’ he said. ‘Her name is Chay.’

  Charlie clung to Anna’s neck as Anna climbed out of the ute.

  Pat said, ‘Do you want me to carry her?’

  Anna shook her head and spoke into the girl’s ear. ‘We’re going to see a doctor to help you feel better.’

  Charlie tightened her legs around Anna’s waist.

  ‘We’re pretending I’m your mum.’

  Did Charlie still want her mum to come and find her? Might she take this chance to tell the hospital that Anna was not her mother?

  Anna’s legs were shaky as they crossed the poorly lit carpark. She had to think about each step she took. Step up the gutter. Up the stairs. They wouldn’t be recognised, would they? Charlie looked different now – plumper and tanned – and Anna had short hair. Pat held open the glass entrance doors and they started down the hall, towards a sign pointing to Emergency.

  A woman called to them from behind a reception desk. ‘Hello, are you going to Emergency? Can you please register here first?’ She smiled at Anna.

  Pat said, ‘I’ll do it. She needs to get our daughter to help.’

  ‘Yes, of course,’ the woman said.

  Our daughter? Bloody hell. That wasn’t what they’d decided on, was it? Anna’s head swam; she couldn’t remember. All she knew was her promise to stay with Charlie. She felt robotic as she headed down the wide hallway. This hospital might well be the last place she’d hold Charlie in her arms.

  She murmured into Charlie’s ear, ‘It’s okay. We’re going to help you feel better.’

  A dark-haired nurse in blue scrubs met them at the door to Emergency. ‘Hi there. What’s happening?’

  Anna had to swallow before she could speak. ‘Fever. Vomiting. And now she has a headache.’

  Charlie looked up at her with a sweet, beseeching look and Anna felt a terrible shimmer of fear.

  ‘Alright. Bring her over here.’ The nurse was reassuringly calm. Anna was faintly aware of a couple of people sitting in the waiting room behind her as the nurse ushered her past another woman typing at a computer. The nurse pointed to a bed in the three-bed ward. ‘Best if you climb up and hold your daughter on your lap.’

  An old man lay under a blanket in the next bed, his eyes closed.

  Anna settled on the white-sheeted bed with Charlie leaning back on her. The nurse wheeled a small trolley over and put a plastic bag on the bed beside Anna.

  ‘That’s in case she needs to vomit. How long has she had a fever?’

  ‘Since about nine this morning.’

  The nurse drew the curtain between the two beds and raised the back of the bed. ‘Okay, I’ll just check her temperature. What’s her name and how old is she?’

  ‘She’s five.’

  What name had Pat said they should use? Oh God.

  ‘Just popping this on your finger, sweetie. It won’t hurt.’ The nurse clipped something onto the end of one of Charlie’s fingers. ‘What’s your name, sweetheart?’

  Charlie closed her eyes and Anna said, ‘Her name’s Possum.’

  ‘Possum?’ The woman blinked at her.

  ‘Well, no, but that will work best for her. You know . . . that’s the name she’s decided on lately . . .’ Hurry up and check her over, she wanted to scream.

  The nurse smiled. ‘Okay, Possum, open your eyes again for me.’

  Charlie’s eyes fluttered open.

  ‘My name’s Sam. I’m going to take your temperature, so I’ll put this in your ear.’ She showed the thermometer to Charlie and slid it into her ear. It beeped a few seconds later.

  ‘Oh yes, she’s hot. Have you given her anything for the headache and fever?’

  ‘I tried to give her some Panadol but she vomited it straight up.’

  The nurse made some notes on a clipboard. ‘And what’s your name, Mum?’

  ‘Annie.’

  ‘And is Possum immunised?’

  Bloody hell. Anna had no idea. Would Gabby have bothered to get her immunised?

  ‘Yes.’

  The nurse nodded. ‘So her immunisations are up to date?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘Do you know how much she weighs?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Okay, we’ll check that in a moment.’ She looked up from her notes. ‘You said she’s had a headache?’

  ‘Yes.’

  The nurse put her hand on Charlie’s forearm. ‘Do you have a headache now, sweetie?’

  Charlie gave a tiny nod.

  ‘Is it a little headache or a bad headache?’

  ‘Little,’ she whispered.

  The nurse used a small light to look down Charlie’s throat and in her ears, then lifted her shirt to look at her belly and back.

  ‘When did she last do a wee?’

  ‘Some time before nine this morning.’

  Anna glanced at the door. Where was Pat? Was there some problem at the front desk? She looked around for CCTV cameras.

  ‘And how much has she drunk in the past few hours?’

  ‘Some sips of water. But she’s been vomiting. What do you think it might be?’

  Charlie whispered, ‘Mummy, Mummy.’

  ‘Hey, sweetie.’ Anna stroked her hair. Charlie’s head felt so small under her hand.

  ‘Well . . . nothing that’s leaping out at us at this point.’

  The nurse raised the side of the bed. ‘I’ll put this up so you can kind of lean against it. The doctor will be here in a few minutes. She’s caught up on the ward. But let’s start by looking after your girl’s dehydration and get some fluid into her. I’m going to get a Gastrolyte iceblock for her. Do you like iceblocks, Possum?’

  Charlie nodded.

  She returned with an orange iceblock and a paper towel.

  ‘Here you go. Let’s see if she can keep this down. And if she does vomit again, we’ll give her something for that. I’d also like to give her some Nurofen for the head and to bring the fever down.’ She turned to walk away.

  ‘What about meningococcal?’

  The nurse turned back. ‘The doctor will be here soon. She’ll have all possibilities in mind, don’t worry. Chances are that it’s just a virus. But she’ll exclude meningococcal. Okay?’

  As the nurse disappeared into a storeroom, Charlie sucked on the iceblock. Clatter came from the bed on the other side of the curtain and Anna heard someone talking to the old man. She tried to tune out of their conversation about kidney stones, and brought the plastic bag closer to Charlie in case she vomited.

  ‘How’s that taste?’

  Charlie nodded. Anna put her hand on the girl’s burning forehead. The nurse’s calm manner was settling Anna’s fear that Charlie would die. Now she felt sick with fear that someone would figure out who they were.

  Pat appeared in the doorway and walked over to them. He was still in a sarong and t-shirt. He pulled the hard plastic chair close to the bed. ‘How
’s it going?’

  ‘Okay. The iceblock is to rehydrate her. How did you go?’

  He spoke quietly. ‘It’s all fine. I just had to fill in a form, that’s all.’ He squeezed her forearm, his hand so cool compared to Charlie’s. ‘Don’t worry.’

  She whispered, ‘What name did you give? You didn’t say you were her father, did you?’

  ‘No. No. You’re Annie and Chay Patterson. And I gave a made-up local address and phone.’

  ‘Won’t they look it up?’

  ‘I don’t think so. The woman seemed very relaxed. Remember, this is a small country hospital.’ He smiled as the nurse approached the bed.

  She carried a plastic syringe and bottle of medication in her hand. ‘Hi. Are you Dad?’

  ‘A friend.’ He smiled even more broadly.

  •

  A blonde woman in jeans appeared near the desk and spoke to the nurse. Every now and then the two of them glanced over at Charlie’s bed. The doctor – she must be the doctor, she had a stethoscope draped around her neck – bent to the desk and typed something into the computer. Anna’s chest tightened.

  Pat said, in a low voice, ‘Just keep breathing. It’s okay.’

  The doctor walked purposefully towards Charlie’s bed. Anna was not sure she could do this. The panic was like a band around her chest now.

  ‘Hi, I’m Clare, the doctor on duty this evening.’

  She had a blonde bob and freckles and looked about Anna’s age.

  ‘So, this is Possum? Is that her real name?’

  ‘It’s Chay,’ said Anna.

  She bent and looked into Charlie’s face. ‘Hi, Chay. I’m Clare, the doctor. Have you got a headache right now?’

  Charlie nodded.

  ‘Okay. We’ve given you something that should help the headache go away. And I hear you’re feeling quite hot, eh?

  Charlie nodded.

  ‘How long has she had the fever?’ The doctor glanced between Anna and Pat.

  ‘For almost ten hours,’ said Anna.

  Anna watched the doctor concentrating as she gently palpated Charlie’s belly. Anna thought that the doctor was the kind of person she used to be – reasonable and law-abiding. By taking Charlie, Anna had placed herself outside the world of these people. She was not one of them anymore. And she was afraid of what these women might detect with their cleverness and intuition.

  The doctor looked at Charlie’s ears and throat, and felt around her jawline. She stood silently watching the girl for a few moments. Finally, she asked, ‘How’s that iceblock, Chay? You’ve nearly finished it.’

  Charlie whispered, ‘My name’s not Chay.’

  Anna’s skin crawled. ‘Well . . .’ she said.

  ‘What’s your name, then?’ Clare kept her eyes fixed on Charlie, her face impassive.

  Anna’s head spun. This was it.

  ‘She likes to be called Possum,’ said Pat.

  ‘Okay.’

  The doctor didn’t seem convinced. Anna looked down at the blanket and made herself examine the weave of the cotton. Under and over, under and over. From the corner of her eye, she saw a man carry a crying toddler into the room. One of the child’s feet was wrapped in a blue towel.

  Clare adjusted the stethoscope around her neck. ‘The fever is a sign she has an infection, either viral or bacterial. There’s no focal point for infection that I can find. Not ears, not throat, not chest, nothing abdominal I can detect. It could be a urinary tract infection. So we’ll do a test for that when she next does a wee. If she doesn’t improve in the next hour, I’ll want to think about sending her up to Tweed Hospital.’

  ‘Alright.’ Anna swallowed. Tweed Hospital. Even more chance of being caught.

  The doctor tipped her head to one side to meet Charlie’s eyes. ‘Do you think you could have a drink now?’

  Charlie nodded.

  ‘Okay. We’ll get you one.’

  The doctor crossed to the desk in her silent running shoes and spoke to the nurse. They glanced over to Charlie’s bed with serious faces. When the doctor picked up a phone, Anna wanted to get off the bed and run, with Charlie in her arms. There was an emergency exit just ten feet away; she could be up and out the door in a few seconds.

  Pat put his hand on her arm. ‘Do you want a drink, Anna?’

  ‘Yes, please.’

  The doctor was talking on the phone now.

  ‘What’s she doing on the phone, do you think? Should we just go?’

  ‘I think that would look very suspicious.’

  ‘They could be looking up things on the computer.’ And finding those photos of Charlie and Anna. ‘They seem to think she’s okay. We should just go.’

  ‘If we’re jumpy they’ll get suspicious. Just take some deep breaths and I’ll get you some water.’ He stood and disappeared out the door.

  Anna heard the doctor talking to the man with the toddler, who was whimpering now. She took a couple of deep breaths and focused on Charlie’s fingers holding the iceblock. Such small fingers, and dirty little fingernails.

  The nurse brought a cup with a straw and Anna held it for Charlie. She said, ‘Here’s a sheet of paper so your friend can note what she drinks and also any wees. We just want to keep track.’

  She put the sheet of paper and a pen on Pat’s chair. She seemed perfectly calm and friendly, not like someone who’d just identified a child and her abductor.

  Anna cleared her throat. ‘So this urine test, when will that happen?’

  ‘Well, we’ll need to wait for some fluid to go through her.’ She glanced at the notes and her watch. ‘We’ll see if she feels ready to try in about forty-five minutes. Okay?’

  Anna wasn’t sure she could manage forty-five minutes more of this.

  ‘Okay.’ Anna took a deep breath and smoothed Charlie’s hair back from her eyes.

  Charlie had a drink then pushed the cup away. She curled up on her side, her body resting between Anna’s legs, and closed her eyes. Soon her breathing was deep and regular.

  Pat returned with two bottles of water and a chocolate bar. ‘I know one of the nurses. The one looking after the little boy two beds up.’

  ‘Is the boy okay?’

  ‘There’s a lot of blood.’

  Anna drank some water. ‘We have to wait another forty-five minutes until they can do the urine test.’

  ‘We’ll be fine. Just stay calm and act normal.’

  He tore open the chocolate wrapper and passed it to her. It was so sweet and creamy, it seemed like something from another lifetime.

  ‘Thank you so much for bringing us down, especially when Sabine didn’t want you to . . .’

  He nodded and took the chocolate bar back. ‘That’s fine. I’ll go out and give her a call soon. Just to let her know what’s happening.’

  He finished the chocolate then flattened the wrapper on the bed. His hands looked battered and rough against the white cotton blanket. Pat’s hands – the particular shape of them – were more familiar to her than her mother’s. Which was not the way it should be.

  ‘You know,’ said Pat, ‘I was thinking of you the day you turned up. Which was why I didn’t feel all that surprised when you drove in. And when I saw her,’ he nodded at Charlie, ‘it was . . . it was as if she was the . . . I don’t know . . .’ He shook his head. ‘As if she was the ghost of that child we never had.’ He shrugged with what looked like embarrassment. ‘It was . . . very strange.’

  She smiled. ‘That’s very supernatural of you, Pat.’ But goosebumps fizzed up her arms. Was Charlie somehow the ghost of that child for her too? ‘She’s much younger than our child would have been, though.’

  Our child. A prickling sensation ran under the skin of her whole body, and she looked down and blinked.

  ‘Yeah, that child would have been seventeen,’ said Pat. He folded the chocolate wrapper neatly in half. ‘Did you ever regret it? The abortion?’

  She looked at Charlie’s hands, curled in sleep, one of them resting on Anna’s breast. �
��I’ve wondered what would have happened if we’d actually had a frank conversation about it rather than just fumbling our way into a termination. Yes, I’ve had moments of regret. Moments of wishing we’d been braver.’

  ‘What honest conversation did we need to have?’

  ‘Any honest conversation, really. Don’t you think we found it impossible to talk about anything difficult? I felt like I was tiptoeing around . . . and . . .’

  How could she describe the ways she contorted herself, trying to be whatever it was she thought he wanted? Except she could never figure out what it was that he wanted and he never told her. Which made everything she did an agony.

  Pat said, ‘We’re both loners, that’s all.’

  ‘I’m not anymore.’

  She didn’t want to be a loner. And she certainly didn’t feel like a loner sitting here with Charlie asleep on her. The girl had been lying on her for so long now, Anna felt like they’d melded, that she’d taken on the girl’s temperature, her weight and her smell. She couldn’t imagine peeling her away.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ said Pat. ‘I think we did the best we could at the time. It was all we knew to do. Both of us.’

  His phone beeped in his pocket. He pulled it out. ‘It’s Sabine. I’ll go out and call her.’

  Charlie sighed and burrowed into Anna. Anna ran her fingers over the girl’s forehead. She felt much cooler.

  Anna wanted a child. She knew that now. But she didn’t want just any child, she didn’t want some abstract child, she didn’t even want that unknown child that she and Pat might have had.

  She wanted Charlie. And she had the feeling that she was the family that Charlie was meant to have. And she knew full well that the cops and the courts would not agree.

  Pat was away for what felt like a long time and came back in as a different nurse approached the bed.

  ‘Hi guys. I’ll just check your girl’s temperature again.’ She put the clip on Charlie’s finger and slipped the thermometer into her ear. It beeped and Charlie stirred.

  ‘That’s more like it,’ said the nurse, whose badge read Mel. ‘How are you feeling, little one?’

  Charlie looked around. ‘Can I have another iceblock?’

  ‘Sure. Do you think you might be able to do a wee first?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ she said in a small voice.