by Barker, Dawn
She walked in through the open door of Lisa’s shop. Long racks stuffed with clothes stretched down either wall, and in the middle of the room was an old, faded wooden table stacked with belts and jewellery.
Lisa was standing behind another wooden table at the back of the shop. Beside the cash register was a jumbled pile of clothes that she was putting back on hangers. She looked up, smiled, then tilted her head and frowned. ‘Mum, hi … What are you doing here?’
‘Oh, I was just passing by. I thought you might want a treat.’ She held out the white paper bag.
Lisa raised her eyebrows. ‘Long way to come to bring me a snack … Not that I’ll say no, of course.’
Ursula knew that Lisa was suspicious and understood why. It had been a long time since she had visited the shop. Ursula felt a twinge of shame, but she shouldn’t need a reason to visit her daughter. She missed Lisa; they used to be so close. As she walked towards the back of the room, she looked at the clothes all around her. She was proud of her daughter for building up this business. She and Jim had promised to help her do this if she made the right choices in life. Lisa hadn’t let them down.
She put the bag down on the counter, and began to rip it open. Her stomach started churning. ‘I suppose I did have something I wanted to talk to you about. Have you heard about Anna?’
Lisa slid out the cardboard tray and picked up a purple macaron; she paused and looked at her mum. ‘No. What’s happened?’
‘Tony hasn’t called you? Maybe I shouldn’t …’
‘Mum! What is it?’
‘Everything’s OK.’ She took a deep breath. She didn’t want to upset Lisa, but she needed to know. And Ursula admitted to a strange sense of vindication in sharing the news; it confirmed that Anna was unstable, and made Ursula more convinced that she was right to distance herself from her. ‘Look, she’s all right now, but she tried to kill herself last night.’
Lisa dropped the macaron and clasped her hand to her mouth. ‘Oh my God! What happened?’
Ursula put her hand on Lisa’s arm. ‘Don’t worry, she’s fine. Apparently she took an overdose. She saved up her tablets and took them all at once, so she must have been planning it for a while.’ She thought about her own visit to Anna, a couple of weeks ago, but pushed away the guilt. She had no way of knowing how long Anna had been thinking of this. She looked back at Lisa, who was pale. ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to shock you, sweetheart.’
Lisa shook her head. ‘It’s OK. I’m OK. It’s all just so … so horrible. Poor Tony.’
‘I know. He got the call late last night and spent most of the night at the hospital. Wendy’s there now, and he’s gone home to try to sleep. It’s just one thing after another.’
‘Maybe it would help if I go and see her. I suppose we’ve just gone back to normal, you know, while she’s still waiting in hospital.’ Lisa shook her head. ‘I’ve been a bit torn, Mum. Sometimes I just don’t know what I’d say to her. I don’t want to take sides, but I feel so sorry for Tony. This is all so … so unbelievable, and I don’t know whether to hug her or scream at her. Then I wonder if I’m being selfish —’
‘Lisa, don’t you go feeling guilty! We’re all doing our best. Let’s wait and see what Tony says.’
‘How is he?’ Lisa leaned against the counter. ‘And Wendy?’
‘Wendy’s all right, she’ll be OK. She’s still at the hospital. And Tony, well, he’s as good as can be expected, given what he’s been through.’
‘Excuse me a minute. I’ll go and make us a coffee.’ Lisa disappeared into the back of the shop.
Lisa had always been like that, never one to let anyone see her upset, and Ursula had always respected that. But all this business had made her think that maybe some things did need to be out in the open. She chewed slowly on a macaron until Lisa came back carrying two mugs of coffee; her eyes were red and her mascara was smudged.
‘Lisa, while I’m here, there’s something else I wanted to talk to you about.’ She picked up her mug, took a big gulp of coffee, then put it down. She told herself that her hand shook from the caffeine, not nerves.
Lisa didn’t look up; she picked at a macaron.
‘I’ve been thinking a lot, you know, with all this …’
Lisa shook her head. ‘Don’t. Don’t Mum, it’s all in the past.’
‘Love, we’ve never talked about it, it’s important …’
‘No, it’s not. I don’t even think about it. I don’t want to talk about it. Just leave it alone.’ Lisa scrunched up the paper bag and wiped the crumbs off the counter with her hand, then walked out to the back room again.
Ursula thought back to those months: the tears, the screaming, the silences. Lisa walking off, just like now. She felt sick. The macarons hadn’t been a good idea, all that sugar was bound to make her nauseous.
A few moments later Lisa came back, her face redder than before. Ursula held her arms open and took a step towards her. ‘I’m sorry, love, I shouldn’t have …’
‘It’s fine, Mum.’ Lisa picked up a dress from a cardboard box on the floor, ignoring her mother’s invitation for a hug. ‘Sorry, but I have to get back to work now.’
Ursula looked around the shop, which was empty except for the two of them, then sighed and nodded. She picked up her bag and walked back out onto the street, towards her car. As she approached, she saw a white piece of paper curled around her windscreen wiper. Her heart began to race. She leaned over the bonnet and snatched it. She had to use both hands to flatten it out. Of course. A bloody ticket.
She screwed it up in one hand and threw it in the gutter, then fumbled in her bag for the keys. She managed to clamber into the car just before she began to cry. Her breath came in gasps; she rested her head on the steering wheel and sobbed. All she had wanted to do was take her daughter a treat, make her happy.
Was nothing ever going to go right for her?
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Six weeks after
Tuesday, 27 October 2009
Tony wrapped a beach towel around his damp board shorts just as the doorbell rang. He picked up his t-shirt from the bedroom floor, put it on, then went to answer the door.
Wendy stood on the front step, pale and wrung out. She looked up at Tony, shook her head, then walked into the house. He closed the door behind her, then hugged her.
‘They’ve moved her back to the psychiatry ward now,’ Wendy said. ‘The medical doctors are happy with her.’
Tony sighed. ‘Thank God. Come through.’ They walked down the hallway into the kitchen. Used plates and cups covered the kitchen bench. ‘Sorry about the mess.’
Wendy waved her hand at him. She sat on a stool with her back hunched. ‘I can’t believe it. Just when I thought she was getting there, you know, starting to get better, this happens …’
‘I know.’ Tony heard his voice thicken. He cleared his throat and turned towards the coffee machine. ‘Do you want a coffee?’
She nodded.
He scooped ground beans into the metal filter then twisted it into the machine. ‘I thought a surf might help. I tried to sleep when I got home from the hospital, but I couldn’t stop thinking …’
He opened the cupboard and took out two mugs. One was Anna’s favourite. He was about to put it back, but there were no others that were clean. He swallowed. It was only a cup; it didn’t mean anything. He sighed, then filled a metal jug with milk and began to steam it. When the coffees were poured, he handed one to Wendy, kept Anna’s mug for himself, and pulled up a stool to the kitchen bench.
‘I’m sorry,’ he said, sipping his drink.
‘What for?’
‘I feel like it’s my fault. She said … she said she did it because she thought I hated her, because I hadn’t been to see her.’
‘God, Tony, she doesn’t mean it, she’s just —’
He shook his head. ‘No, it’s true, I haven’t been to see her. I just couldn’t.’
Wendy stared at her coffee. ‘I understand.’
&n
bsp; ‘I just keep thinking …’
She turned to him and leaned her head to the side. ‘Thinking what?’
‘That I should have been there.’
‘Tony, you were —’
‘No, I should have been at home with them, not rushing off to work and leaving it to Mum. I should have seen this coming, you know.’ He reached for the sugar jar and stirred a teaspoonful into his drink. ‘I knew she wasn’t well. I should never have just accepted —’
Wendy put her hand on his arm. ‘Don’t, Tony. You could never have known this would happen.’
‘You don’t understand. I did know there was something wrong, I was just too busy … She wasn’t sleeping, she was crying all the time, then one day she was really happy – too happy – over the top, you know. And then that morning, she was mumbling, behaving really strangely. What kind of husband am I? What kind of dad?’ He looked away from Wendy and blinked back tears. It was true. He had known that something was seriously wrong with her, but he had convinced himself she was fine, just so he could have a break from the baby, and from her. He had used work as an excuse, an escape.
‘Tony, this isn’t your fault.’ Wendy looked down, staring at her coffee. ‘We’ve all had a part to play. I’m her mother, I know her better than anyone, maybe even better than you, and I never imagined … I should have got on that plane as soon as the baby was born, I should never have listened to her when she said she was OK.’ She sighed, then looked to her right, out the window. Tony could tell she was imagining what might have happened if she’d done something differently, the same way that he had gone over and over different scenarios in his mind, each one leading to a better outcome.
She started to speak again, quietly. ‘I should have known she was at risk. I should have warned her this could happen.’ She reached for the box of tissues on the bench and handed some to Tony, then blew her nose.
Tony didn’t ask her to explain; he was Anna’s husband, Jack’s father. ‘I was meant to be looking after them …’ His voice was thick.
Wendy slammed her coffee down, and he jumped. ‘Stop, Tony! This isn’t helping, this competition over who’s to blame. No one is! It just happened.’ She combed her fingers through her hair. ‘I’ve spent years looking for someone to blame for everything that’s gone wrong in my life, but I haven’t found anyone yet. Life is just not fair and there’s nothing we can do about it. And now, we have to be there for Anna. What else can we do?’
She stood up and walked towards the window. Tony looked at her back, and her ghostly reflection in the glass. She’d lost weight; she looked frail. From behind, you could almost mistake her for Anna. He bowed his head. Wendy was right: it didn’t really matter what each of them could have done, because they didn’t do enough and it was too late now. He walked over to her and put his hand on her shoulder. She clasped it, and they stood in silence.
‘Can I ask you something?’ he said.
‘Of course.’
He took a big breath; he didn’t want to say it, but it was time. He didn’t know who else to ask. ‘His room. I haven’t been in it, since …’ His voice broke. ‘I just can’t, I don’t want to see it the way it was. It’s still the same as it was when she left.’
Wendy nodded. ‘Let me do it, Tony. You don’t need to go in there.’
‘Thanks.’ He rubbed his face, then turned and hugged her. In a way, he thought, they had both lost their children. ‘Come on, let’s get out of here. We can go down to the beach for lunch.’
‘OK.’ Wendy sniffed and tried to smile.
‘I’ll just jump in the shower.’
Tony padded through to the bathroom and turned on the shower. The hot water stung his salty skin, and sand fell off him in clumps. He washed his hair in Anna’s shampoo and inhaled, then rinsed and lathered it on again. That was the scent that was missing, from the pillows, the sofa, his clothes. For the first time in a long while, he thought about the possibility of her coming home, how nice it would be to just go back to their life, the way it used to be. But as he switched off the shower, the scent faded and that possibility disappeared.
* * *
There was someone sitting by Anna’s bed. She didn’t think she could move her head to see who it was without throwing up. She managed to look down at her chest. Who had taken her pyjamas off? The hospital gown that she now wore was stained with something black and sticky. She could smell vomit. She gagged.
‘Anna, just breathe slowly. It’s me, Dr Morgan. You’re back on the ward now. Would you like some water?’
Anna attempted to nod, and someone put a straw in her mouth. She sipped, swilled the water round her mouth and swallowed. She could feel the liquid trickle down her throat into her stomach. She opened her mouth, like a child, and sipped from the straw again.
She managed to turn her head to the left. Dr Morgan sat on the chair, holding the glass of water. Her head was cocked to the side and she was frowning.
Anna quickly turned again. She wanted to jump out of bed and run away, or at least pull the covers over her head and pretend the doctor wasn’t here. They’d moved her back to the ward, which meant they must think she was stable again. She thought of the looks on Tony’s and her mother’s faces this morning, and shame scorched her cheeks.
‘Anna, it’s OK.’
Anna shook her head. She couldn’t look at Dr Morgan. She couldn’t bear to see the disappointment in her eyes.
‘I’m sorry,’ she whispered.
Dr Morgan sighed. ‘It’s all right.’
‘It’s not. I’m sorry …’
‘You don’t need to say sorry to me, Anna. Can you look at me?’
‘No.’ Go away, she wanted to say. Please go away. She heard the creak of Dr Morgan’s chair as she sat back.
‘I need to tell you what’s happening now. I’m worried about you. There will be someone watching you for now, and I’ll review that every day, OK?’
‘I won’t do it again.’ Anna turned her head towards the doctor just for a second. Dr Morgan wasn’t frowning any more. She didn’t look angry. ‘I’m sorry I lied to you.’
‘Lied?’
‘You asked me if I had thoughts of hurting myself, and I said no.’
‘Oh, I don’t care about that. I’m just glad you’re OK. Anna, this doesn’t surprise me, you know. I can understand why you wanted to end your life. I don’t think it means that you’re necessarily ill again, or back to square one. I think it’s a sign that you’re starting to process everything, starting to understand what’s happened and what it means for you. I think in your situation, it’s entirely normal to feel like this.’
Anna raised her eyebrows. It had been easier when Tony shouted at her this morning, it fitted the way she felt about herself. Now, she didn’t know what to do or say in response to the doctor’s words, so she said nothing.
‘That’s not to say I’m not really worried. But I do understand. I hope you can talk to me about this, when you feel up to it.’
Anna nodded. She breathed out, and managed a slight smile. She closed her eyes again, and heard Dr Morgan walk out quietly. It was hard to think clearly. She hadn’t expected understanding; she wasn’t sure that she wanted it.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Six weeks after
Wednesday, 28 October 2009
Anna jumped as someone touched her hand. She had been sleeping, dreamlessly, the type of sleep you don’t want to be woken from.
‘Mum,’ she said, sitting up. ‘You scared me.’ The corner of her mouth was wet with saliva; she wiped at it, then rearranged her nightgown, which had twisted as she slept. It was clean; she didn’t remember changing it. ‘How long have you been there? What time is it?’
‘Not long, sweetheart. It’s just after nine. How did you sleep?’
Anna blinked hard. ‘In the morning?’
‘Yes. I came in yesterday afternoon with Emily but you were asleep and we didn’t want to wake you. Emily left you those.’ Wendy pointed to a bunch of lilies
in a plastic vase on the windowsill, obscuring the view of that horrible brown courtyard. Anna almost cried at the sight of them. Emily knew they were her favourites. ‘She said she’ll call you today, and she brought you chocolates and magazines too. I put them in your bedside cabinet.’
Anna smiled. Her dry lips cracked and stung. ‘Can I have some water?’
Wendy passed her the tumbler. She noticed that her mother’s eyes were swollen, bruised-looking. She glanced away, knowing that she was the cause, and sipped the water.
‘Mum, are you OK? I —’
‘I’m fine. I’m just a bit tired.’
She clutched at the glass of water with both hands. She needed to explain this to her mother. ‘I’m sorry, it’s my —’
Wendy shook her head. ‘Shh. It doesn’t matter. The important thing is that you’re safe, you’re OK, thank God.’
‘I didn’t want —’
Wendy sat up straighter. ‘Anna. We went through this yesterday. No more apologies. You don’t need to say anything, please.’
She had rarely heard her mother raise her voice. She nodded, then lay back down on the bed and pulled the blanket up, but it didn’t reach her shoulders. She tugged at it, trying to pull the edges out from where they had been tucked tight under the mattress. Beginning to cry, she grabbed her pillow and pulled it further down the bed, shuffled her body down and gathered the sheets around her chin, then curled up on her side.
Wendy waited until she was still again. ‘I wanted to say something.’
Anna closed her eyes.
‘It’s important. I’ve been thinking about it for weeks, months, years really. And now … I’ve already told Dr Morgan, because I thought it might help with your treatment. She asked, you know, if there was anyone in the family who had been ill. And I —’
‘Don’t, Mum.’
‘But —’
‘I know, OK?’
‘I don’t know what you think you know, but I need to explain.’
