The Last Time

by Sharon Haste

  'I was so scared that I'd turn out just like my father. I knew I couldn't see Pedro again. I don't know what came over me that night,' he says. 'But I wanted to kill him, and I could have killed my own brother.'

  'But you didn't, Thomas.'

  He nods.

  'I joined Clare here, almost a year after she left.' he says. ‘She was studying at university in Melbourne, and I started to work at a bar so I could pay my way through law school. We stayed in her one-room apartment together. But she was not the girl I met in Chile. She'd wasted away and was suffering from depression. I just wanted to make the world right for her again. She became everything to me.'

  'What happened to her friend, the one she went to Chile with?'

  'I don't know. She went missing, and they never found her. She wrote to Clare a few weeks later and said she was happy and married to the guy from the Internet, but Clare never heard from her again even though they were really close. I don't think Clare believed it, but she wanted to so much that she accepted it in the end.'

  'Did you ever go to the police with your suspicions?'

  'Yes, many times over the years, but it stayed a cold case. Nobody could find her, and given that it was not in the jurisdiction of the Australian police, they wouldn't touch it. The case has never been solved.'

  'Thomas, is your brother, Pedro, still alive? You said you thought you killed him, did you?'

  'No,' he says. 'He didn't die. He had a concussion, a broken shoulder and a few cuts and bruises, but he lived.'

  'Have you seen your brother since you left?'

  He shifts in his seat. 'Yes.'

  'Where? When?'

  'He came to Australia earlier this year and has been in Delany for a few weeks. I spoke to him on the day of the party. I took an early flight home to surprise Clare, but instead of going home, I went to see him. He called me; he said he wanted to talk. I thought after all this time he might have changed and that we could work things out. It's been so long since we spoke, and he is my brother. I thought it might be time to forgive and forget.'

  'Where did you meet?'

  'In a bar called The Brothers on the other side of town. I couldn't have been more wrong about him. He was still pissed at me after all these years. He was still brooding over the money he'd lost when I saved Clare, even though I have sent him more than double her worth since. He couldn't understand why I'd choose her over family and why I'd tried to kill him. It was obvious he didn't want to make up with me, even though we hadn't seen each other for so many years. I was just going to walk away and forget about him, but he started talking about Charli and how she was almost the same age as Clare when he first met her. Then he started to talk about my wife. When I asked him what he wanted, he asked me how much they were worth to me. So, even though it made me sick, I gave him the money I brought. It's the only language he understands. I knew he'd hurt my family if I left him empty-handed.'

  'What's he capable of Thomas? What do you think he was going to do?' Sam asks.

  Thomas shakes his head. 'My brother is capable of anything, from kidnapping to murder. I don't think he would have killed them because they're worth nothing to him dead, but I do think he would've taken them and asked for a more money or just kept them for a few days to show me that he's still the boss.'

  'Do you think your brother has anything to do with what happened to your wife and children?' she asks.

  'I... I don't know. He's capable of it, but he has this big thing about not hurting family. I don't think he would have killed them. He's more likely to do something to make money. They are worth nothing to him dead, but to be honest, I don't really know.'

  Sam nods. 'Thomas, where's your brother now?'

  Thomas shakes his head. 'I expect he's halfway back to Chile by now.'

  Sam nods. 'We'll look into it,' she says 'Just out of interest, how much money did you give him?'

  'I gave him ten thousand dollars,' he says. 'I thought it would make him go away, go back to Chile, and forget about me and Clare.'

  'Why did you think money would make him go away?'

  'His whole world revolves around it,' Thomas says.

  'You know this won't look good for you if your brother did have something to do with your wife's murder.'

  'I know,' he says. His eyes are grave, and his mouth is drawn into a thin line. 'I have nothing to hide. I loved my wife, and I would have done anything to keep her safe. Anything.'

  “I'm curious about one thing,' she says.

  Thomas looks at her.

  'Why did you let Charli go to DJ for so long?'

  Thomas looks stricken.

  'I know it looks bad because she's my daughter; and I know Edward could have stopped her from going. I did it because I was scared.'

  'Scared of what Thomas?'

  'Scared that Pedro was still around and was going to hurt her. I thought she would be safer in there, and he would give up and go home once she was arrested.'

  Sam nods. 'There's just one other thing,' she says. 'Do you have a daughter called Tia?'

  The question throws him, and his already pale face goes sheet-white. 'No,' he says through clenched teeth. 'Did Rebekah tell you that? That woman will do anything to get what she wants.'

  Curiosity makes her inquire further. 'Rebekah? Do you have a relationship with Rebekah?'

  'No, I don't. Not beyond seeing her as Clare's friend.'

  'Did you ever have a relationship with Rebekah?'

  He hesitates 'A long time ago, before Clare. We spent a night together. I drank too much, and it was a big mistake. She seems to feel she has some sort of ownership over me since then. She has some grand idea that we belong together. The woman's delusional.'

  Sam nods.

  'Then one day she tells me she had a child, my child, and called her Tia. Gave her up for adoption because her career was taking off, and a child didn't factor into her life plan. Tells me she wants to find her and for us to meet her.'

  Sam looks at him frowning.

  'I didn't believe her and had no interest in finding the girl if she existed. Couldn't see the benefit and didn't want to feed her fantasies, so I tried to deter her as much as possible. Clare didn't know about our little fling, and I didn't want her to find out.'

  'Did she ever find her?'

  'Not that I'm aware of. I don't think she's real.'

  'What if I told you that I have Tia's birth certificate with your name on it?'

  'I thought Rebekah was lying,' he says, swiping a hand through his hair.

  'Thomas, the name of Tia's birth mother is not Rebekah.'

  Chapter Thirty

  Charli wakes with a lightness she hasn't felt for some time. Jael's head rests on the bed beside her, his hand wrapped around hers. She blinks, frowns, and wonders how she got there. Then she remembers that she came here after visiting Rosa instead of going home. She told her aunt that she was staying with a friend and sent her dad a text message but got no response. She has been paying for the room for almost two weeks now and is not sure why she continues to do it. Maybe because the boys like it here and it gives them a place to call their own.

  She thinks about the look on Rosa's face when she sat across the kitchen table and handed her the check. It was made out to Rosa Cendero for the value of two-hundred thousand dollars. Her eyes had bulged, and she'd tried to push the piece of paper back into Charli's hands with shaking fingers.

  'I cannot accept this,' she said.

  'But Rosa, you deserve it,' Charli said. 'Pay off your house, stop working, and have a holiday. You're a good person, and you've spent your whole life giving. Please take it, and if you don't want to spend it on yourself, spend it on the kids.'

  Rosa had wiped the tears from her face and hugged her so hard that she thought she might squish something vital. Then she insisted on feeding her, piling the table with enough food for an army. The woman's gratitude humbled Charli more than anything ever had. She now knows why her mother was so generous and encouraged her to be the
same. Giving something without the expectation of anything in return is the greatest gift one person can offer another. Charli had so much, and Rosa had so little. Charli gave so little, and Rosa gave so much. In Charli's mind, the money was fair payment for everything Rosa had given to so many others.

  She smiles as Jael's fingers tighten around hers, and her heart increases its tempo. She doesn't want the moment to end, but her bladder is full, and she needs to move. She stays as long as she can hold it, relishing the surge of warmth travelling her arm from his touch. After ten minutes, she extracts her hand and rises, tiptoeing to the bathroom so as not to wake Tobi. He sleeps on his back, snoring, and is surrounded by a sea of takeaway food containers.

  She wants to try again. It's been too long since the last attempt. So much had happened since then.

  She flicks on the bright fluorescent light and stares at her reflection, studying her face for the first time in weeks. The globe exaggerates her features, and she screws up her face, frowning at her pale complexion. Her eyes are rimmed with dark circles. She imagines how her friends would feel if they saw her now. Ella is so obsessed with perfection that she'd throw her hands in the air and drag Charli to the nearest salon for a day-long treatment. She glances at her nails; they need shaping. Her brows need tweezing, and her face could use some attention. An older, thinner version of herself pokes her tongue at the mirror and turns away.

  'Who cares?' she mutters. 'My life sucks anyway.'

  She picks up the pendant from where she placed it on the ceramic sink.

  'What am I meant to do with you?' she whispers. 'Am I supposed to save them? Or are you just torturing me before I'm locked up?'

  She wonders how much of her life has been a lie or built on lies. Who is my father? Why didn't he want her to be born? She realises she knows so little about her father's life. There are too many secrets. She wonders about her grandparents and what kind of people they were. What did Dad do to make his mother disown him? He's never done anything that bad as far as I know.

  Tears prick her eyes, and she shakes them away with impatience. She's so sensitive now, crying at the smallest provocation. What's wrong with me? If she's to get through this, she needs to toughen up, stop the tears, and come up with some fail-proof strategies to make things right. First of all, they needed to do some more CPR practice and go back again.

  She wakes the boys, and over a breakfast of toast and juice, she shares her plan and asks for their help. She gets them fired up with her enthusiasm, and they drag 'Red' to the centre of the floor and begin to practice. After an hour, they are ready to go. They land under the tree with renewed vigour, and Charli flies to the water's edge, her shoes cast away before she reaches it. She's in the water with Jael hot on her heels and swimming past her. Tobi's waiting when she drags Ash's body to the edge, and she can hear Jael already working on her mum with the other Charli. She can hear his voice counting as he presses her chest and prays it will be enough.

  She starts to work on Ash just as a cry goes up from her other self.

  'Mum, Mum! She's breathing.'

  Her heart leaps, and she allows herself a second's celebration before she continues to resuscitate her brother. By the time the dog barks, Clare is gasping in the recovery position. Although she's not awake, she's breathing. She looks down at Ash. He is inert as he lies on his back, and his chest is still. Her breath catches in her throat as she casts him one last look before grabbing the boys’ hands and disappearing back to the future.

  She lands in her old room, her dad's voice calling up the stairs.

  'Come on, Charli, we've got to go.'

  She looks down at a floral print dress with a full skirt, the sort she'd wear out somewhere. There are no pockets, so she puts the pendant in her top drawer, grabs her phone, and runs for the stairs, thrilled to be home.

  Her dad's face, at the bottom of the stairs, is ashen.

  'The hospital called. Mum's been moved from intensive care to another ward.'

  A fist grips her insides. 'Intensive care?'

  'Yeah, they're moving her to rehab.'

  'That's good, isn't it?' she asks.

  'I'm not sure, love. She's still not good. I want her to stay where she's being watched twenty-four seven.'

  'Okay,' she whispers.

  'We've got to go.'

  She follows her Dad to the car, her nerves jangling. Is Mum still going to die? How long has it been since the accident? It's been more than a week, closer to two. That's a long time to be in intensive care, isn't it? The twenty-minute drive seems interminable, her mind clattering from one thought to another. One knee bobs, and her hands twist in her lap. What am I going to see when I get there? What condition is she in?

  They park and walk at a brisk pace to the intensive care unit, where her father talks to the nurse through the intercom. She directs them to a ward three floors up. They take the stairs to save time. Charli's whole body is trembling as she enters the ward. There's tinsel draped over the nurse's station and a Christmas tree in the corner, trying to bring some cheer to the drab unit. A receptionist with a ready smile and Santa hats dangling from her ears directs them down a corridor to room twenty-one. There are four beds in the ward, each with their own metal cabinet and over-bed table. Charli glances at the others in the room; they all have tubes in their noses or strapped to their wrists. The nurse flings back the curtain when they reach her mother's bed.

  'Morning, Thomas,' the nurse says with familiarity. 'Charli, how are you today?'

  'Morning, Megan,' her father says. 'How is she today?'

  Charli hangs back, gaping at the woman on the bed and searching for the mother she remembers. Part of her wants to rush over, touch her warm skin again, and kiss her soft cheek. But something holds her back. There's a tube in her nose and another disappearing into the skin of her chest. Her hair is brushed back in the non-descript manner of the infirm. There's another tube in her neck, where the air gurgles in and out in time with the rise of her chest. Even though she's breathing on her own, her eyes remain closed, and her face is slack. Charli wonders if she's asleep and hovers, unsure of what to do.

  She looks at the woman in the next bed. Her face is hollow, her cheeks are sunken, and her eyes are closed. She has the same tube in her nose. Her name is Karen, and the date on her admission board is three years and ten months earlier. She stares at her, unable to tear her eyes from the sallow skin and rattling breaths. A photo on the wall above the bed shows a young woman with bright red hair with two young boys. Her arm is slung around each one while her husband casts a smile over them all. She crosschecks the face on the pillow with the photo and can't believe it's the same person. Shock brings tears to her eyes as she wonders what happened to the vibrant young woman in the photo to reduce her to the body in the bed.

  'You can say hello to your mum,' Megan pipes up.

  She looks at the nurse, who nods in encouragement, and steps forward, her heart pounding. As she nears the bed, she touches her mother's hand, relieved that it's warm. She holds her hand and leans in to whisper hello, keeping her eyes on her mum's face. There's no response to her touch or greeting. The face remains slack, and her hand is inert. Charli tries again, speaking louder, yet Clare gives nothing back.

  Charli catches snippets of the conversation behind her. 'Thomas, the doctors have made their decision. There's nothing more we can do in ICU. We had to make room for someone else. There's very little chance that Clare will wake now. I'm sorry.'

  Charli's breath catches, and a small sob escapes her. Not wake up? What's she talking about?

  'She can still hear what you say to her,' Megan says, looking Charli's way. 'Hearing is the last thing to go when you're in a coma.'

  Coma? Mum is in a coma. Oh my God, what have I done? She stares at her mum's once beautiful, vibrant face that has gone so slack.

  'When's she going to wake up?' The question comes out before she can stop it.

  Megan comes to her side and pats her hand. 'We're not sure that's
going to happen now. It's been too long.'

  'But, how can she stay like this?' Charli cries. 'What's going to happen to her?'

  'They'll look after her here. This is for long-term patients.'

  'Long term? You mean years? Mum can't stay like this. She'll hate being like this. Dad, isn't there something we can do? Get another opinion?' Her eyes are pleading.

  Her Dad shakes his head. 'You know we've already done that. It's no good. Mum's brain is damaged. She's never going to recover. I'm sorry.' He reaches for her, and she shrugs him off. She turns to her mother and grips her arm, shaking it as if to wake her.

  'Mum, Mum, wake up,' she cries.

  Megan moves to the bed and lays a hand on Charli's back. 'It's no good, Charli. We've been through this. She's still your mum. You can still talk to her.'

  Charli stops, horrified at what she's doing. 'Oh God, I'm sorry. I just want her back.'

  'I know. Why don't you sit with her and talk for a while?'

  Charli feels the chair behind her thighs and lowers herself down. She takes her mother's hand after Megan's encouragement and starts to talk. It's hard to hold a one-way conversation. Her words are awkward, and she feels self-conscious. Then she remembers what it was like to lose her and, with sudden vigour, she starts to tell her mum all the things she wishes she had when she was gone. Her dad sits on the other side of the bed, holding Clare's other hand and listening. The occasional tear wets his cheek. All the while, Charli is thinking of Karen, a young woman fading away in a starched bed. What must her kids think of her? How will they remember her? Charli finds it hard to believe that boys so young will recall the woman in the photo. How could they when she has lain in that bed for four years? When it's time to go, Charli says her goodbye: the one she never thought she'd have the chance to say.