by Di Morrissey
Eddie pushed forward to speak to a young ambulance officer who was closing the back of the vehicle. ‘Was anyone hurt? I’m a friend of one of the residents.’
‘We’re looking for relatives. Two people have been taken to Lismore Base Hospital, another was flown to Brisbane,’ she said. ‘Can’t tell you much, I’m afraid. There seemed to be quite a few people in the house.’
One of the last sections of standing framework collapsed, adding a huge shower of sparks to the spectacle. He turned back to the ambulance officer. ‘Listen, was a girl brought out? About fifteen, brown hair?’
‘You’ll have to ask the police, I’m not allowed to give out information.’ She was trying to sound official, but Eddie caught the look that flashed into her eyes.
‘Her name’s Erica Bitternden, her mother is in . . . hospital. If you’re local you must know the Beach Hut, that’s her mum’s place.’
‘Oh, yes. I know it.’ She dropped her official approach. ‘Listen, it’s pretty bad. Two guys got out and raised the alarm. The rescue boys pulled two unconscious blokes from the front room – smoke inhalation.’
‘And the girl?’
She glanced at Eddie’s stricken face and lowered her voice. ‘The young girl was flown to Royal Brisbane intensive burns unit. She’s bad.’
‘Any word on what caused it?’
‘Candles or smoking are top of the list.’
Eddie turned away, rubbing the smoke from his eyes. God, what was he going to do now? He felt overwhelmed at the horror of the disaster and he hoped the woman was wrong. He went over to the senior of two police officers standing by their car. ‘I’m a family friend of one of the people who lived here. Can I get some information?’
He waited for the formal refusal but the sergeant gave him a sympathetic look. ‘I’ve seen you around, you’re that film and television man. Who did you know in there?’
‘Bonnie Bitternden’s daughter, Erica. Bonnie is in the Dolphin Centre. Is there any word about Erica?’
‘Sorry to have to tell you this, but yes, she’s been flown to Brisbane. Don’t like her chances. Do you know anyone else close to the mother? We’ll have to break the news.’ The veteran cop growled, ‘What kind of a mother would leave her daughter in a house full of druggies, I ask you?’
Eddie was cautious about saying too much but felt the police should be given some information. ‘From what I hear, Erica got swayed by some of the people in the house. They took her to that doof last night.’
‘Those bloody events are a public menace. Do you want us to tell the mother? Or do you know her well enough to break the news to her?’
‘Thanks. It would be better coming from friends. I’ll let her know and we’ll get back in touch with you later tonight.’ Eddie knew it would be a dreadful task for Kimberley and Amber, but he would offer to drive them to Brisbane after seeing Bonnie. He thanked the sergeant and headed back to his car.
‘Eddie!’
Tina came running up to him, looking concerned. She was wearing overalls and boots and carried a hard hat. ‘What are you doing here?’
‘I could ask you the same thing,’ he managed wanly.
‘I’m on duty, volunteer rescue service. God, you didn’t know anyone who was in that mess, did you?’
‘A young girl, school friend of friends.’
‘Oh, no. That’s the kid they’ve flown to Brisbane. Can I help in some way? I’m about to leave.’
‘Someone has to tell Bonnie, her mother. She’s at the Dolphin Centre. I was thinking of asking Kimberley Dorne. Erica was staying with them on weekends.’
Tina walked beside him. ‘Too bad it wasn’t all the time. What shape is the mother in?’
‘Bonnie has been doing well, apparently. Amber said she’s due to come out.’
‘I hope she can handle this one. It’s a biggie.’ Eddie looked confused so Tina went on, ‘Do you want me to come with you? Sometimes an outsider can help in these situations.’
‘Would you? I mean, I think it would be a big help. I’d really like to have you along.’ Tina radiated strength and sympathy. She looked so capable. ‘I feel a bit lost. I keep thinking about that poor kid, she’s going to be scarred for life. Emotionally as well as physically. She was a bit insecure, a loner, from what Kimberley said.’
‘Listen, Eddie,’ Tina took charge, ‘we’ll have to get Bonnie and drive her to Brisbane. I’ll phone the Dolphin Centre and tell them what’s going on so they can prepare her.’
‘I was having dinner with friends. I’d better let them know.’
‘I have my mobile. We’ll call on the way. Leave your car and take mine. It might be more reliable. I’ve seen yours.’ She steered him to where her four-wheel drive was parked.
‘Actually, I have Nola’s car. I’ll call the restaurant and ask Holly to drive her home.’
The call to Kimberley was far harder.
‘Oh my God, how am I going to tell Matty? I can’t stop blaming myself. Though short of locking Erica in, I don’t know how I could have kept her here all the time.’
‘Exactly. Kim, you mustn’t blame yourself. But we have to break the news to Bonnie. Do you think you can do it?’
‘No! I couldn’t. Oh, Eddie, please don’t ask me to do that. I couldn’t face her. And I’ve got Matty. No, I couldn’t.’
Eddie was surprised at her response. ‘Okay, take it easy, that’s fine. I understand. Tina is with me, we’re on our way to her now.’
‘Tina, the ranger from the Cape?’
‘Yes, she’s a volunteer rescue worker, she was at the house.’
‘Then she’ll know how to handle it. I’m not good at this sort of thing. Oh, poor Erica. Eddie, I have to go to Matty. Call me and let me know how she is.’
When Tina pulled into the main entrance at the centre Cheyne came out to meet them.
‘How is she?’ Eddie asked, immediately feeling embarrassed. How would a mother be in these circumstances? What a dumb question.
‘She’s in shock. Just wants to get to her daughter as quickly as possible.’
‘We’ll drive her,’ said Tina.
Cheyne led them inside. ‘I’ve made arrangements for her to fly up in our helicopter. But if you could go to the hospital it would be good. She’ll need support whatever the circumstances. This is very tragic, coming just when she was so looking forward to her new life with Erica. Spirit can hand out some hard lessons.’
‘Can one of us go with her?’ asked Eddie.
‘Sorry, no room. Regulations.’
‘How come you have a helicopter?’ cut in Tina. ‘Is there a helipad here?’ This was the first she’d heard of it.
‘We need a helicopter for the community, and the local police often use it. They do a routine check of the hills for dope plantations. And it’s useful for emergencies like this. Come and see Bonnie, she’s packing a few things.’
Bonnie was pale and distracted. Eddie gave her a brief embrace and introduced Tina, who recognised her as one of the solitary women who often went to the lighthouse to watch the sunrise. ‘We’re coming up to Brisbane, we’ll be there in two hours or so. Anything you want us to bring?’
Her voice was wavering. ‘You don’t have to. But thank you. I’ve called her father. Maybe you could bring Erica’s favourite CDs. She had some at Kimberley’s . . .’ Her voice trailed off as she stared at the bag and scattered clothes on her bed. Tina stepped forward and began folding and packing them.
‘Kimberley sends her love,’ said Eddie. ‘She can’t leave Matty, but she’ll come as soon as she can.’
‘No, that’s all right. I understand.’ Bonnie’s good manners came from habit but she just stood in the middle of the room, hands gripped together.
Tina closed the bag. ‘Right. You’re ready.’ She looked at Cheyne in the doorway signalling him with her eyes to move things along.
The helicopter clacked above them as they drove onto the gravel road. ‘They must have got special clearance to fly this late,’ Eddie sa
id.
‘These communities have a way of getting things done when they want to,’ said Tina dryly. ‘Now, are we getting those CDs or anything else?’
‘Let’s just drive. If we’re going to support Bonnie, we need to be there while she’s dealing with whatever she has to deal with. I doubt Erica is up to listening to CDs anyway.’ He glanced at Tina and said warmly, ‘This is good of you.’
‘If I were in Bonnie’s shoes, I’d want someone there. I just hope we can help.’ She paused and added slowly, groping to articulate something she hadn’t put into words before, ‘You know, Eddie, I sit up there on the Cape overlooking that beautiful peaceful bay and see the tourists come and go. But at other times I watch the women walk up the track then sit and gaze out to sea, looking for something.’
‘Women like Bonnie?’ he said quietly.
‘Yeah. Some pretend they do it for the exercise, but there are a lot of lonely women in The Bay.’
‘Do you think they ever find what they’re looking for?’ he asked, then wondered why was it only women who had to come to a place like this to ‘find’ themselves. Surely he wasn’t the only man who felt he was at a crossroads, confused about his future, unsure what he really wanted or what his options were.
Tina sighed. ‘I wish I knew. I talk to some of them, but mostly they like the solitude. And the sea is so calming. I think that’s more helpful than anything I could say.’
‘Do they end up staying here? Or are they restless? Like Laura, never content with her lot.’
‘Some stay and grow and change, some go. Some stay in their same old bitter comfort zone, or so I gather.’ Tina laughed lightly. ‘Hey, I’m no therapist. But . . . ’
Eddie looked at her. There was something in her voice.
‘But what?’
‘This might sound strange, but there’s something about the Cape, the lighthouse. It’s special, like in magical, or that over-used word, spiritual.’
‘I’ll add that to my list of research questions. I know,’ he held up his hands as Tina was about to interrupt, ‘I’ve been so slack about coming back to go through the old journals.’
‘You seemed so enthused. But they’re still there waiting for you. How’s your project going?’
‘I’ve been a bit sidetracked,’ said Eddie ruefully. ‘A few domestic things. But I really want to get on with my Bay film. I’m getting some amazing stuff. Like at the doof.’ He stopped for a moment. ‘Jesus, if only I’d found Erica then –’
‘That’s another thing about this place, isn’t it?’ said Tina gently. ‘How people help each other. Sometimes it gets a bit incestuous, a bit claustrophobic, everyone in each other’s pockets.’
‘Seems to me you get five Bay people in a room they won’t agree. But when it comes to big things they unite.’
‘Why do you say “they” and not “we”?’
‘Well, there you go. I guess I’m not sure if I’m staying or going either,’ said Eddie lightly. But her remark hit home and he fell silent.
In the next two hours in the darkness of the car Tina and Eddie shared potted life stories. The events of the night, and knowing the painful experience they were facing, gave them a heightened sense of what was important in life. They talked, as strangers often do in the intimacy of a journey, but in this case it was the cementing of a friendship.
‘How well do you know Bonnie and her daughter?’ Tina asked.
‘As well as I know a whole bunch of people in The Bay, the women’s club I call it. I met them through Mac and Kimberley more than through my ex-wife. Though she was at dinner tonight.’
‘That’s nice,’ said Tina in a noncommittal tone.
‘No it wasn’t,’ said Eddie with a slight grin. ‘She was with her current boyfriend. Old, rich, boring. Newly retired to the Gold Coast.’
‘Ugh. Not my taste,’ said Tina, wondering how any woman would trade in Eddie. Maybe it was the money. ‘How come you’re an ex? Are you a wife-beater?’
‘Yeah, sure,’ he joked. But then added thoughtfully, ‘Maybe I should have been tougher. Verbally. I let her shout me down. Funny how you kind of shut your eyes when you don’t want to see what’s happening around you. She changed. Or maybe I never saw who she was. I thought life would be different, better, when we came to The Bay.’
‘You mentioned your daughter, how old is she?’
‘Ten. She’s not mine, biologically. Alice was three when I met Laura. Though she thinks of me as her dad.’
‘And is Mr Old and Rich going to be her new daddy on the Gold Coast?’ Tina was shocked at how much she needed to know about Eddie’s private life. So unlike her, but she couldn’t help herself.
‘Laura is probably hoping so . . . rustic and un-rich isn’t her style. Not that I was a total disaster when we came here,’ he quickly added. He didn’t want Tina to think he was a loser. ‘I still have big plans. But I’m concerned about Alice. She doesn’t want to move away, so she might end up staying with me at the farm. Part of the time anyway.’
‘That’s a big responsibility for you. What about your work?’
‘I’m working for myself at present. If it wasn’t for Alice I might rush overseas, but if you’re going to be a single parent, The Bay is a good place to live.’
‘Yes. There’s a lot of generous people there. Generous with time and care, I mean. Let’s hope everyone can rally around Bonnie. She’ll need it. Here we are.’
As they headed into Brisbane Eddie suddenly said, ‘Oh my God, I haven’t rung Amber back. I wonder if Kimberley has. Amber is close to Bonnie. They have some bond, something between them.’
‘It’s late. Call her when we have some more news,’ said Tina. ‘We’ll be at the hospital in ten minutes or so.’
Eddie looked at her profile in the city lights and thought again what a practical person she was. And he thanked his lucky stars she had been there, for many reasons. But all he said was, ‘I’m glad you’re driving. I don’t know my way around Brisbane.’
A security guard checked at the reception desk and then directed them to the intensive care unit.
Hospitals are particularly depressing late at night, Tina thought. Silent hallways, occasional echoing footsteps, a phone ringing. Darkened doorways where patients tried to sleep through their pain. Tired nurses doing paperwork and lonely rounds. The atmosphere in the intensive care unit was different. A sense of urgency, tension and switched-on professionalism dominated.
An older nurse came out of the ward and asked who they were. She spoke in a voice wearied by too many hours on duty, too much suffering, too little hope. ‘Mrs Bitternden is with her daughter. Is there no other family coming?’
‘The father is in Melbourne. I believe he’s on his way,’ said Eddie. ‘We’re friends and felt we could help comfort Bonnie.’
‘She hasn’t been doing very well. Seeing a patient with third degree burns to most of the body is a shock, of course.’
‘What’s the prognosis, Sister?’ asked Tina.
The ward sister studied Tina, recognising the rescue service uniform and decided this was a capable, no-nonsense young woman. ‘The doctor will be able to tell Mrs Bitternden more when he comes back.’ Then she added in a kinder tone, ‘It’s not very good. But she isn’t in pain. When the burns are as bad as this all the nerve endings are burned so she’s not feeling anything. In fact, she’s quite lucid. But I’d suggest you get anyone close to the family to come in as soon as they can.’ She hurried back into the special unit.
‘Oh, Christ. What does that mean?’ asked Eddie shakily. ‘I mean, is she saying Erica could die?’
Bonnie came out of the ward and Eddie was shocked at the change in her in a few hours. Her skin had a ghostly pallor, her hair seemed sweaty and stringy but the anguish in her eyes stabbed at him. She was agitated, her voice high pitched. She rushed to Eddie and clung to him. ‘Tell them it’s not her. That’s not my daughter, it can’t be. Dear God, Eddie, it’s hideous. That’s not beautiful Erica. What have they done
with my daughter? What’s happening?’ She buried her face in her hands, her shoulders shaking.
A nurse took Bonnie by the elbow. Tina was quickly on the other side making soothing noises. They led her away leaving Eddie feeling helpless. He found himself gazing at a man dozing in the corner of the waiting room, and wondered how long he had been waiting, and why.
Tina came back a few minutes later. ‘Bonnie’s been sedated slightly. She’s pulling herself together. We can have a few quick words with Erica.’
‘I don’t know that I’m up to that.’
Tina laid a hand on Eddie’s arm. ‘I think, as we’re here, we should. She knows you.’ She hesitated then told him what she’d learned from the sister. ‘There might not be another opportunity. She’s not going to make it, Eddie. Her body will collapse internally – the fluids, electrolytes – they’re so out of balance.’
‘God, how long?’
‘Maybe only hours,’ said Tina steadily.
‘Does she know? Does Bonnie know?’
‘I don’t think so.’
But as Eddie stood by the bed trying to compose himself, he knew that Erica knew. She was barely recognisable. Most of her body was completely black, and she was covered in light dressings, with gauze wrapped around her head. Her eyes were strangely bright and in their depths there glowed something he couldn’t quite understand. Her voice was soft and clear. ‘Was it you who came to the doof? Looking for me?’
He nodded. ‘With Amber. It was her idea. She was worried about you.’ His voice sounded strange to his ears.
‘Ask Amber to look out for my mum. And Mac and all the others.’
Eddie nodded, his eyes filling with tears.
‘And give all my stuff to Matty.’
Again he nodded, feeling Tina move closer to him. Erica caught the slight movement. ‘You’re the ranger at the lighthouse, aren’t you?’
‘That’s me. Tina. You go up there a lot, don’t you? I remember you.’ Tina now knew who the young girl was that she’d seen so often hanging over the railing watching the ocean, or sitting hugging her knees and gazing beyond the horizon, or strumming her guitar. Now the Little Lost Girl, as Tina dubbed her, was dying. At first she’d always been alone and Tina wondered why she had never come with her mother. Did they know they each went to the headland with its beacon to seek solace or perhaps answers? Then Erica had started coming with another girl. Tina smiled softly. ‘It’s a pretty special place, huh?’
