Across the Water

by Ingrid Alexandra

  He steps closer until I can feel the warmth of his body against my back. Cold air rushes against my neck as he gathers my hair and lifts it, pulling it gently the way I like. I can feel his breath beneath my ear and I know what he wants. I shiver, though it’s not with desire.

  He presses his lips to my neck and I stiffen. ‘Not now.’

  Samir goes still. There’s a silent beat before he pulls away and, in that moment, I sense fresh resentment.

  ‘I should go, anyway.’ His voice is tight, with embarrassment or anger I’m not sure. He releases my hair and his warmth disappears. With a strange sense of distance from my own body, I marvel at how little I know about my husband these days.

  You always have to go, I think. To work, to your shed … and wherever else.

  There’s silence and as I turn I catch the pained look in Samir’s eyes before he walks from the room. Guilt stabs at my gut and I’m angry at myself, because I’d planned on being nice today, maybe making a lamb roast – his favourite – and having a glass of wine or two together on the balcony, watching the sunset like we used to. I’d have all sorts of happy things to recount to Doctor Stone and he’d stop scribbling on his blasted notepad with that wrinkle in his brow, stop asking me how I really feel about things and just smile and nod when I explain that everything is fine. It was all just a misunderstanding.

  But seeing her is a reminder, and it awakens something, rubbing the scars raw. It wouldn’t have happened if she hadn’t decided to walk in the rain, if I hadn’t looked out of the window. I’d have turned to my husband and let him kiss me and let him put his hands on the body that housed You.

  A shudder moves through me. I close my eyes and see the woman, curly hair wild, in her hospital gown, shrieking at me. She was making such a terrible noise. Was it necessary? Really? I’d have given her back; it’s not like I’d taken her. It was my job to care for her, to soothe her when she was crying, to teach her mother the way of things. The stupid woman had fallen asleep … I mean, who can fall asleep when they have a newborn relying on them? Yes, it’s wise to sleep when they do, but the child was awake. The child was hungry. And it’s not like she had a husband around to help. She was on her own, so the responsibility fell to me. Is it any wonder I got so worked up afterwards? After what they’re calling the Incident? The unfairness of it! It was all so ridiculous, almost a joke. And then to say I’m the one who needs help, to make me go and sit in that stuffy office and talk about it, when they should have understood, should have known I was just trying to help. Mothers need as much help as they can get. I’d just forgotten the time, that’s all; I hadn’t realised I’d walked that far from the room.

  I was caught up in the moment – it can happen. Especially when you’re tired and stressed, which I was, and that wasn’t my fault – it was Dee’s. And it’s not really that bad that I helped feed her, surely. I know it isn’t done, but the woman was near-mad with desperation to breastfeed her child so I fail to see it as a criminal act that I provided for that very need. Wet nurses need not be a thing of the past, in my opinion. I should have asked, yes, I understand that. Some people might think of it as a hygiene issue. But God, the silly girl – only young, too, just a baby herself – you’d have thought I’d beaten her baby by the way she reacted. For goodness’ sake.

  Shaking my head, I feel the familiar frustration bubbling up. I wasn’t thinking straight. I misjudged things. I do admit that. But it was an innocent mistake, and it wouldn’t have happened if it weren’t for Dee with her endless calls and demands, her neediness. Knowing I’m always happy to help, knowing I can’t say no. I wouldn’t say no. Not because of her. Because of Ruby. That’s why I do it. It’s her who needs me. A helpless infant, blameless in all this. Innocent. But it had played with my mind, confused me. That’s all it was. Confusion. It wouldn’t have happened ordinarily. They know me at the hospital. They know what sort of person I am. How come they can’t see that?

  With a sigh, I turn from the window, but not before my gaze snags a flash of red. And as it does, my phone rings. I pull it from the pocket of my dressing gown to see a familiar name flashing on the screen.

  ‘Please,’ she says as soon as I answer, slightly breathless. I can hear the tears in her voice as I watch her pushing the stroller at a frantic jog down the street. ‘I need your help.’

  Chapter 23

  Dee

  June, 2017

  Sunday, 4:40pm

  Erica is prattling on about something to do with her work as a midwife but I’m scarcely listening. I thought I saw a light come on across the creek, but when I looked again all the windows were dark. Strange. It reminds me that I haven’t seen a light on over there in ages; Tim Dawson must be away on holiday or something.

  I sip my tea, longing for something stronger, but Erica isn’t much of a drinker. I’ve never felt comfortable drinking around her; I know she judges me. She thinks I don’t know her opinion of me, but I do. I know what everyone thinks. And, for the most part, they’re right.

  It’s nice to have some company, even if it’s just Erica. I’m grateful to her for helping me out; God knows without Rob around I’m barely making ends meet, although a meagre amount of money is appearing in my account every week, and Ruby is sleeping more which has helped matters.

  It’s pretty here; the Haddads’s balcony affords a different aspect to ours with a clearer view of the mountains beyond the creek. It feels more spacious than our balcony somehow, although I know in truth they’re identical. Everything is beautifully furnished: luxurious outdoor furniture, tasteful coffee table, rows of flower pots with colourful peonies all along the balcony rail. It’s all Samir of course. His money, his taste. How he ended up with someone as dowdy as Erica has always been beyond me.

  Still, I think as I glance over at her, watching as she speaks animatedly, there’s a softness about her. With the setting sun illuminating her rounded cheeks, I see in her a maternal sort of kindness. Although she’s most likely scarcely a decade older than me, I’ve always seen her as more of a mother figure. Poor thing; all those maternal instincts and no outlet for them.

  ‘So it won’t be long before I’m right as rain and back at work,’ she’s saying and she turns and looks at me expectantly.

  I feel bad for letting my mind wander, so I attempt to engage. ‘Yes, how’s the stress leave going?’ She still hasn’t told me exactly why she’s had to take time off, but I get the sense that something happened at work and it wasn’t exactly her choice to leave. I wonder what she could have done? I can’t picture her being anything other than hardworking and sensible, but we never really know what goes on in someone else’s mind, do we? She’s so upbeat about it all, yet I get the feeling she’s withholding something, keeping her real feelings to herself. We all do it, I suppose. I would know.

  She’s frowning and I realise too late that I’ve said something wrong.

  ‘As I said,’ Erica says carefully, smiling now, though it doesn’t reach her eyes. ‘Once I’ve had this last session with Doctor Jones, I’m sure I’ll be in the clear to be sent back to work.’

  ‘Oh!’ I say, surprised. Despite my inattentiveness, I’m almost certain she hasn’t mentioned a doctor before. ‘What … sort of doctor? Are you ill? Is that why you’re on leave?’

  Erica hesitates, then sighs heavily. ‘There was an … incident.’ She doesn’t meet my gaze. ‘It wasn’t my fault. I was only trying to help, but no one will believe me.’ She stops, straightens her shoulders, and smiles. ‘But, as I said, one more session and I’m in the clear. It won’t be easy, going back after everything, but I miss it so much I can’t tell you. It’s suffocating being cooped up here …’ she trails off, slanting me a guilty look.

  ‘Yes,’ I sigh, my heart sinking. Tell me about it. If Erica goes back to work, who will be around to help me? What will I do for company? I’ve come to depend on her more than I’d realised. The people I knew in Sydney – other dancers, people I knew in school, more acquaintances than friends – h
ave long since disappeared from my life. I never knew my father and I don’t speak to my mother, not since she turned a blind eye to what her sleazy boyfriends got up to at night.

  ‘It’s only three days a week,’ Erica says as if reading my mind. ‘And I’m still happy to mind Ruby whenever you like. You know that.’

  ‘Thank you,’ I reach out a hand and place it over hers. For a moment, as our eyes meet, and a current of understanding passes between us, I have the urge to tell her everything, to purge it all and have someone else bear the burden. But she stiffens, pulls her hand away, and the moment is lost.

  ‘I haven’t seen Rob around lately,’ she comments, and there’s something in her voice as she says it, aiming for casual but I can sense the edge. She has been edgier around me recently, I realise. How much does she know, or suspect? Not the whole, surely, or she’d have nothing to do with me.

  ‘Oh, he’s away on business. China this time, I think.’ I try to smile but I can feel the stiffness in my cheeks.

  When I look over, Erica is looking at me solemnly. ‘If there’s anything … wrong, you can tell me, you know. I know how to keep a secret.’

  I almost smile then, because I am certain she is someone who absolutely cannot keep a secret. Besides, which one would I choose? I have so many, none of which a woman like her could understand.

  ‘Thank you, but everything’s fine. It’s just hard, on my own a lot.’ As if I’ve reminded myself of this fact, I suddenly feel very tired. Ruby will wake from her afternoon nap shortly, and because she’s teething I doubt she’ll sleep through until any later than 3am.

  My thoughts wander to a cool glass of wine and, though it’s selfish, I can’t help myself. ‘Can you take Ruby tonight?’

  I belatedly realise I’ve interrupted her, and she looks annoyed. I can hardly blame her. But I also know she won’t say no. Because she thinks I don’t know her secret, but I do. Samir told me. And I know she’d never say no to the chance to hold a baby in her arms, even if it kills her every time.

  Chapter 24

  Liz

  June, 2017

  Monday, 6pm

  The sky is streaked with orange light and the water, dark and slick like a serpent, snakes through the bush and past the row of three white houses, rooves gleaming in the sunset.

  The middle house is empty, of course. Knowing Dee’s gone makes it appear abandoned, ghostly. I wait to hear the baby’s cries, for a light to flicker on, a shadow to pass across the upstairs window. But everything is quiet and still. Only the branches of the pines on the foreshore stir in the mild breeze; only the squawks of the black cockatoos flying low overhead fill the silence. I keep Googling for news about Dee and Ruby’s disappearance, but it’s all different versions of the same thing. There’s nothing to indicate foul play, though they’re not ruling it out, and there are mentions of a couple of other people who drowned while crossing that bridge during high tide – a twenty-five-year-old woman and a fourteen-year-old boy. Both strong swimmers, apparently. No wonder Zac warned me about it, I think with a shiver. The thing’s a bloody death trap.

  If it weren’t for what I’d seen and heard that night, I’d be thinking the same as everyone else. Considering where they think they were last seen – I’ve not seen any reports that mention the information I gave the police, which is strange – the most likely conclusion would be that she fell in and drowned. It was a king tide, after all.

  Yet there’s that familiar feeling of responsibility – that if there’s something only I know, then only I can do something about it.

  Ugh. I dig the heels of my hands into my eyes, frustrated by my circling thoughts.

  The sun dips over the mountain and the sky darkens. Movement to the left catches my eye, but Zac’s curtains are drawn. I can see shadows behind them, more than one. Is he with someone, I wonder, before pushing the thought away.

  Erica appears in her kitchen window. She looks out, half draws the curtains, but I can still see in, see her waving her arms, shaking her head. They always seem to be fighting. Her anger seems at odds with the meek, anxious woman I’ve met. Samir’s tall, dark figure emerges from behind the curtain. He puts his hands on Erica’s shoulders but she shakes him off. Her head is down. Could she be crying?

  Once more my thoughts drift to Samir coming out of Dee’s house that night. Had he been the man I’d seen in the doorway earlier that night? Can I be sure either man was him?

  What if Dee and Samir were having an affair? If Erica knew about it, it would explain why she and Samir are always fighting. What if Dee called it off and Samir got angry?

  Still. Why would Erica keep minding Ruby for Dee if she knew she was having an affair with her husband? That part certainly doesn’t add up.

  God. I swallow more wine. My imagination is getting the better of me. I shouldn’t over-think this. I’ve done what I had to do, all I can do. I went to the police and they will do as they should with that information.

  So why doesn’t it feel like it’s enough?

  I finish my glass, curl up amongst the cushions on the window seat, and close my eyes. As I’m drifting off I hear a thud and open my eyes to see a light come on at the bottom of the Haddads’s yard.

  I scramble to my knees and take out the binoculars, but it’s too late. Whoever it was has gone inside and no one appears in the window. I stare out into the blackness for a while before exhaustion takes over and I curl up amongst the cushions and drift to sleep.

  ***

  6:32pm

  ‘Baby. Wake up.’

  It’s too bright when I open my eyes. Someone’s turned on the light. I blink in the unexpected glare and Adam’s face appears above me.

  ‘What …?’

  He smiles, teeth bright white, and I’m gathered into his warm arms. I rest my head on his shoulder, inhaling his warmth, but he squeezes too hard – so hard I fear my ribs will snap.

  ‘Adam,’ I squeak. ‘What are you …? I can’t breathe.’

  ‘Sorry, sorry. Oh, baby,’ he cradles me like a child, kissing my brow. ‘God, I’m glad it’s not you. I know it’s selfish but … you’re here. You’re safe.’

  ‘What are you talking about?’

  Adam pulls back to look down at me. I realise with a shock his eyes are wet. ‘I heard a report on the radio.’ There’s pain – regret – in his voice.

  I sit up. ‘Oh my God. Is it …?’

  ‘No, no.’ He touches my lips. His hand is trembling. ‘Some woman found in the river two towns over. Description fitting you. A British tourist. And for a second, I thought … I thought …’ He pulls me close and kisses my lips. His cheeks are damp.

  ‘Adam,’ I pull away, half laughing. ‘Sweetie. It’s okay. I’m here. I’m okay.’ I notice my phone is lit up and I stare at the screen in disbelief. ‘Fifty missed calls?’

  ‘I know. I know, it’s stupid,’ he gives me a wobbly smile. ‘Maybe it’s the thing with Dee missing … Maybe it’s being apart from you so much. Maybe it’s stress. I don’t know …’ He rakes a hand through his hair and pulls his hand away, leaving it in spikes. ‘Maybe a delayed reaction to Dad?’

  ‘Oh, baby.’ I run my fingers over his cheek. ‘You’ve been through so much lately.’

  He’s shaking his head, a dazed look in his eyes. ‘It was terrible. For one moment, I was convinced it was you.’

  ‘It’s not. I’m here.’ I take his hand and place it on my chest so he can feel my heart beating.

  ‘It’s terrifying, isn’t it?’

  I touch his mouth with my fingertips. ‘What is?’

  ‘Loving someone so much.’ He pulls me against his chest and I burrow my neck into the muscular space between his neck and shoulder.

  Over his shoulder, beyond the open window, the Haddads’s kitchen blinds are open. Samir stands in the window, staring out.

  Chapter 25

  Liz

  June, 2017

  Monday, 7pm

  The pub is buzzing with commotion when Adam and I arrive. It
’s only 7pm – Adam rushed home early after that radio announcement – so we figured we might as well break up the monotony and spend money we don’t have on a night out. Between his earlier scare and the whole Dee business (not to mention I was dying to get out of that house) we could both use a drink.

  We receive a few side-eye glances from the locals, a nod or two from the friendlier ones, but no one greets Adam or seems to recognise him. I suppose it has been a long while since he’s spent any real time here.

  Zac’s behind the bar and we lock eyes for a moment before I turn away. Everyone’s crowded around the television in the corner of the main bar area. All are men, a mix of trade workers and fisherman; the only woman in sight is the young woman behind the bar. No wonder poor Dee didn’t have any girlfriends around here. Doesn’t, I correct myself with a shiver. Already I’m thinking of her in the past tense.

  It doesn’t take long to realise why everyone has congregated around the television; I don’t recognise the man on the screen, but it’s clearly a news report about Dee and Ruby’s disappearance.

  ‘Shh! Keep it down, will ya?’ someone shouts and the cacophony of voices lowers to a dull roar. Adam’s arm slides around my shoulder as someone turns up the volume; the man who is clearly Rob Waters speaks directly to the camera, his face filling the screen. He looks haggard, distraught.

  ‘Please,’ he says, wiping a tear from his eye. His lower lip trembles. ‘If anyone has seen or heard anything … or if anyone knows anything that could help us find Dee and my …’ he stumbles, clapping a hand over his mouth. For a moment I think he won’t be able to continue, but then he coughs, wipes his eyes and regains control. ‘If anyone knows anything that can help us find my wife and baby, please let the police know.’

  It’s pretty gut-wrenching to watch, and guilt lands like a punch in my stomach. I feel sick. You’ve told the police what you know, I tell myself. That’s all you can do.