Already Dead

by Jaye Ford

  Not yesterday. ‘Sure are.’

  ‘Can we have some, Mum?’ Scotty asked, dropping a couple of bright-yellow metal chunks on the table – bits of toy truck from the sandpit.

  ‘You can have a couple each but stay out of the sand while you eat.’ Kate moved the truck parts further down the table, saying to Jax, ‘He does have whole toys but he takes everything apart. Brendan always said Scotty was going to be either an engineer or a spare parts specialist.’

  She smiled at the happier memory and Jax reminded herself Kate had already confirmed facts for the ledger: a few ticks for the Real side, zero for Not Real. So as Jax slid a mug of coffee across the table, she thought about other conversations – schools, cafes, sports clubs, the kind of things new neighbours discussed.

  But Kate spoke first. ‘He was a mess the second time he came back.’

  Jax wanted to hear it, wanted to grab a pen and start writing, but instead she reached across the table, put a hand on Kate’s wrist. ‘You don’t have to tell me.’

  ‘I think I need to,’ Kate said, ‘and I feel like I can talk to you. You haven’t once told me not to think about it.’ Her lips flattened in a brief smile. ‘I know you’ve been through a lot. Do you mind listening?’

  Something close to a craving pulsed in Jax’s veins. ‘No. Please. I know what it’s like.’

  Kate’s eyes slid from Jax to the garden. ‘He wouldn’t talk about it the second time he came back. Any of it. What happened over there, what was happening with him here. He said there was nothing to talk about, but he was having nightmares, waking up lathered in sweat, yelling and crying, then embarrassed about it. And he was so … removed. He’d be in the room with us but not with us. I used to shout at him just to get a reaction, to try to make him notice me. God, I just missed his company.’

  She stopped, dug around in a pocket for a tissue, wiped her face and drank more coffee before starting again. There were mood swings and alcohol binges, Kate said. He had trouble sleeping and an explosive temper. He couldn’t watch the news, he put extra locks on the doors and windows, he was suspicious of everyone. He’d decided to get out of the military and felt guilty about deserting mates who were going back to the war. Kate begged him to get some help, but it didn’t come until he was rushed to hospital with chest pains. He thought it was heart failure. It turned out to be a panic attack, a psychiatrist got involved and diagnosed PTSD, and they started down a long road of drug therapy and counselling and dealing with Veterans’ Affairs.

  ‘I always believed he’d get better,’ Kate said. ‘That one day he’d be free of it all and would let Scotty and me in again. I thought we were getting closer, I thought we were going to make it.’ She tossed the cold dregs of her coffee onto the grass. ‘How the hell do I explain it to Scotty?’

  28

  Jax wished she had some advice to offer Kate about Scotty, but she’d failed her own child there. She’d never found any reasons to give Zoe for why her father was gone, had only come to the conclusion that if she could follow the trail, she might eventually get there.

  Kate’s story, on the other hand, was appalling and revealing, but it was history – not an answer, nothing in it to mark up as either Real or Not Real. Jax leaned forward, her forearms on the table. ‘Did you know Brendan had stopped taking the drugs?’

  Kate nodded. ‘He did that six months ago. He thought they’d done enough and wanted to see how he coped without them. At the time, his doctor thought it was a good idea. He might not say that now.’

  ‘How was Brendan afterwards?’

  ‘Good. Better than either of us expected. The best he’d been since he got back from Afghanistan that second time. He said his head felt clearer but I think some of that was just the fact he hadn’t fallen apart.’

  ‘Did something happen to set the PTSD off again?’

  ‘I didn’t think so but it’s such an insidious bloody thing and he got good at hiding it. He had some flashbacks a while ago after a reunion with some of the Afghanistan crew. He’d kept his distance after leaving the army, I thought it was because he was ashamed or embarrassed, but maybe he was worried about what he’d remember. Anyway, the job in Sydney came out of it and he talked to me about the flashbacks. I thought it was a good sign that he could.’ Her hands tightened on her mug. ‘Maybe he thought the talking would shut me up.’ She closed her eyes, dragged in a breath.

  Jax wondered if she was blaming herself for not doing enough or for pushing him too hard. And how much had Brendan been hiding when he started the job?

  ‘Why did he move to Sydney without you?’ Jax asked.

  ‘He got the job and travelling up and down for every shift was going to be difficult.’

  ‘But you stayed here?’

  Her nod was laced with regret. ‘He wasn’t sure how long it’d last and he didn’t want to move us again.’

  ‘Was he on a contract?’

  ‘No, he was trying to be realistic. He hadn’t worked since he left the army and he wasn’t sure how he’d handle it.’

  ‘How did you feel about it?’

  ‘I thought it was good for him to be working but I didn’t want him to go into security, or to Sydney. I was worried it might make the work we’d put in as a family go backwards.’

  Backwards was an understatement. Jax pushed a thumbnail into a scrape on the table, remembering something she’d only summarised for Kate earlier. ‘He told me he left because he loved you.’ Kate dropped her head, nodded slowly. ‘He said there was something wrong with him and he had to keep it away from you and Scotty.’

  She lifted her face. ‘He said that?’

  ‘Yes.’

  A frown tightened. ‘We argued about him going. He felt guilty that I’d had to be the breadwinner and for making us move so many times. He said I didn’t deserve to be packed up again when he might fuck it up. His words, not mine. He never said anything about having to keep away from us.’ She paused, pressed fingers to her lips. ‘Oh, God, is that what he thought?’

  Kate asked it as though Jax had been his confessor, not his hostage. And Jax had paraphrased without a clue to what he was thinking.

  ‘I don’t know,’ she answered quickly. ‘He was rambling when he said that. I thought he wanted to kill himself but I don’t know. He said he loved you, though, and he wanted you to know.’ More paraphrasing, but it seemed like the right message this time.

  Kate’s face crumpled as a sob escaped her lips. She cried silently for a moment, then swiped the tears from her cheeks, clasped her hands tightly on the table. ‘Sorry.’

  ‘There’s nothing to be sorry for.’

  ‘You’re wrong. I’m sorry for a lot of things. I’m sorry I couldn’t make him better, that I let him go to Sydney and didn’t see it coming. I’m sorry you were caught up in it.’

  Jax reached across the table, held tight to Kate’s bundle of fingers. ‘Oh, that’s way too many things to be sorry for. How about you try to trim them down?’

  ‘You think that’d make it better?’

  ‘I think it’s like multi-tasking. There are only so many things you can feel guilty about at one time and still do it well.’

  Kate wiped an eye. ‘I’d hate not to do it well.’

  ‘I’m with you there. I mean, what’s the point of feeling guilty if you’re only going to be half-hearted about it?’

  Kate’s eyes met Jax’s, guilt and gratitude and a tiny speck of amusement in them. ‘He never threatened me, you know. I’ve seen him worked up, agitated and confused. He even threw things a couple of times, but not at me. I was never frightened of him. I wouldn’t have stayed if I was.’

  ‘But he could be irrational?’

  ‘It took a while for him to come down from the nightmares some days, and he’d get confused about what was memory or dream. For a long time, he thought he was teaching me something on the computer, but he didn’t. I wondered if it was something he’d planned to do but never got around to, or whether it was a recurring dream. I never figured
that one out.’

  ‘Did you figure any of it out?’

  ‘Some of it.’

  ‘Like what?’

  ‘He was suspicious of people. He’d question me about the parents of Scotty’s friends, write down car rego numbers, remember snippets of conversation and take them out of context. It was embarrassing at times. He didn’t always keep it between us. Then, in counselling, he talked about a green-on-blue incident at one of the patrol bases he was stationed at. An Afghan soldier shot two Australians. Our guys were training him, he was living on the base, and it turned out he was a Taliban infiltrator. It happened at a lot of bases but I guess when it’s suddenly in your face like that, you’d be suspicious of everyone.’ She twisted at the wedding band on her finger. ‘It took him a long time to work out how to turn that off.’

  Jax remembered the checking back and forth, looking for the helicopter. If we stop, we’re easier to pick off. ‘Did he turn it off?’

  ‘Not entirely, but it improved.’

  Had the recent flashbacks brought back some of his symptoms? Or had something caused another flashback after he spoke to Kate on Saturday afternoon? One that made him more than edgy? ‘Did he ever think people were following him?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Did he ever accuse you of lying?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Did he have a problem with mobile phones?’

  Kate looked at her for a long moment, a crease slowly forming between her brows – and Jax realised what she’d been doing. Not listening patiently and talking kindly, but leaning forward and throwing questions like she was reeling them off a checklist. She straightened, eased back, reproof hot on her skin.

  Kate shifted slightly, putting a little more space between them. ‘Why are you asking these questions?’

  ‘I’m …’ What? Mining Kate’s pain to satisfy her own curiosity. ‘I’m looking for answers too. I want to understand why this happened to me.’

  Kate folded her arms across her chest. ‘Are you … planning to sue? Because if you’re looking for someone to blame, you’ll have to talk to Veterans’ Affairs.’

  ‘What? No.’

  ‘Look, I understand it must have been bad for you, but I don’t have any money.’

  ‘Kate, no, that’s not what I meant. It’s just that Brendan … well, I’m not exactly sure anymore. It’s … I feel infected by his paranoia. It’s not even that. There was something he wanted me to understand and I want to figure it out.’

  Wariness filtered into Kate’s gaze, maybe deciding Jax had a different motive for coming here. That maybe she’d shared too much. A sound from the house made her glance away. Jax turned too, saw a man in the doorway.

  ‘Hugh,’ Kate said. Not an explanation, more a statement of relief.

  As Kate stood, Jax sensed the closing up of whatever had opened between them. She covered Kate’s hand before it left the table. ‘It’s for myself, Kate. I want to understand why I almost died. Why my daughter almost lost both her parents.’

  Kate glanced briefly at her, eyes guarded, a little hurt. Then she walked quickly away, across the yard to the house, and embraced the man in the doorway. She seemed to cling to him, a cheek pressed to his chest. Not a lovers’ clinch but the kind of desperate holding on Jax remembered sharing with Russell in those early days. Christ, had she given Kate need for rescue? So much for healing wounds.

  ‘Uncle Hugh!’ Scotty cried as he ran to join them, the man ruffling the boy’s hair when he got there.

  Beside Jax, Zoe wriggled onto the bench seat. ‘Is that Scotty’s real uncle or fake uncle like Uncle Russell?’

  ‘I don’t know, honey, but I think it’s time we were leaving.’

  She held Zoe’s hand as they walked towards the house, uncomfortable about interrupting the moment. Nauseated at the thought of herself.

  Kate wiped more tears from her face as Jax approached. ‘Miranda, this is Hugh Talbotson, a friend of Brendan’s. He got him the job in security. He’s come all the way from Sydney for us.’ It was a message: he was looking after them, they had all they needed. ‘Hugh, this is Miranda Jack.’

  Jax’s name was delivered as though inflection was explanation enough. Miranda Jack – italics followed by drumroll. Hugh obviously got it. His eyes settled on her for a good, solid look. Size, clothes, hair, face, the daughter at her side – a silent, So that’s the woman from the motorway. Or was it more than that? What had Kate whispered in his ear while she hugged him? Jax felt heat crawling up the flesh on her throat as she waited for him to finish his perusal, taking in his jeans and T-shirt, the barrel chest and huge biceps. He held out his hand. Jax shook it, forced a smile.

  ‘The funeral director will be here in about five minutes,’ he told her. ‘Kate needs to talk to him.’ Time for you to leave, in other words.

  ‘Sure.’

  ‘I’ll walk you out,’ he said.

  And make sure I do it now, Jax thought, although she wasn’t entirely unhappy he was there and directing traffic. Kate’s family was missing in action, she needed a sergeant-at-arms – and she seemed more appreciative of Hugh than of her crusty neighbour.

  Jax looked at Kate one more time, wanting to say something worthwhile before she walked out of her life. ‘Be kind to yourself,’ she offered, borrowing Tilda’s philosophy. ‘None of this is your fault. I live just up the hill, if you ever decide you want to talk again.’ She reached out, clutched Kate’s arm briefly, hoping to convey some of the warmth she felt for her. Kate gave a single nod. Acknowledgement, nothing more.

  With Zoe in hand, Jax followed Hugh back up the hallway, eyeing his broad shoulders, his muscled legs. He was built like Arnold Schwarzenegger, deflated by about a third. His short-cropped hair showed flecks of small scars on his scalp, as though his head had taken the brunt of a hard life. The slightly reddened line of a scratch behind one ear suggested he was still living it. Jax hoped it wasn’t all brawn, that he had the kind of strength Kate and Scotty needed behind them for a while.

  As he pulled open the door, Jax reminded herself she’d done what she came for and had learned more from Kate than she hoped – she should leave it at that.

  But as she squinted into the sunlight outside, she couldn’t make herself keep walking. Not without one last shot.

  29

  ‘I’m sorry for your loss,’ Jax said. Hugh Talbotson nodded. ‘Were you and Brendan in the army together?’ The guy walked like he was ready to salute.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Afghanistan?’

  He hesitated, watched her for a beat or two. ‘We did two tours together.’

  ‘How many did you do?’

  ‘Four with the ADF, eighteen months in private security.’

  She tried to look impressed, wondering if he was a glutton for punishment or a soldier of fortune. Why some went back when others couldn’t bring themselves to think about it. And how many of the scars on his scalp he’d got over there. ‘Brendan must have had a hard time in Afghanistan.’

  ‘Hard place.’

  His answer was curt but it didn’t seem to be evasion. More like a tough guy’s shorthand and, after an hour and a half with Kate’s grief, Jax needed to find another gear if she was going to engage him.

  ‘Did you see the chopper crash?’ It was a long shot. She didn’t know if Brendan had witnessed one but it was the only thing from his rambling she could think to use before she was shunted out the door.

  ‘I saw two go down.’

  ‘Was Brendan with you one of those times?’

  His eyes flicked away briefly. ‘Yeah, I was there. Three Australians killed, one American, an Afghan interpreter.’ Just the facts.

  ‘That would’ve been a hard day.’

  He didn’t answer and she wondered if talking about how hard was territory he didn’t step into.

  ‘It seemed to be hard on Brendan,’ she said.

  Maybe she hit the right mark because something about the way Hugh held himself seemed to loosen, as though he’d exhale
d some of the starch that kept his military bearing in place. ‘Kate told me he talked to you in the car. Is that what it was about? The chopper crash?’

  ‘That and other things.’

  He nodded. ‘I think Kate’s heard enough. You’ve explained yourself, now you need to leave her alone.’

  It must have been what Kate told him when he arrived, but his spin on it made Jax defensive. ‘She called me this morning. She wanted to talk.’

  ‘She’s barely slept since it happened. I doubt she knows what she wants.’

  Now Jax wanted to defend Kate. But she didn’t. She thought of Russell instead, remembering he’d also suggested to well-meaning colleagues – the kind who didn’t know how to let a good story drop – that rehashing the events wasn’t in Jax’s best interests. ‘I’m trying to make sense of it too,’ she told Hugh.

  ‘Brendan had PTSD,’ he said, as though that covered everything.

  ‘Did you spend much time with him?’

  ‘We kept in touch.’

  It could be bloke-talk for sending the odd email, but Kate had gone to him like a friend and Scotty called him uncle. And Hugh had helped Brendan into his job. ‘I want to understand what happened to him. Would you talk to me? Tell me about him?’

  For five or six long seconds, they eyed each other off across the hallway. Hugh’s irises were hazel, a dull mix of green and brown, but what they lacked in vibrancy they made up for in his direct, fixed gaze. Jax wondered what he was weighing up: was he deciding whether he wanted to know about his friend’s last hours, or was Brendan’s break with reality a sign of weakness Hugh didn’t want to explore? Or maybe Hugh was just waiting to see who’d blink first. She was determined not to, trying to send the message that she was strong and resolute, that she wouldn’t turn into a blubbering mess – the kind of thing she figured a guy like Hugh would want to avoid.

  ‘Mummy?’ With one word, Zoe popped the thought bubble in the hallway.

  ‘We’ll go in a second, baby,’ Jax said, as much to her daughter as to Hugh.

  He glanced down at Zoe, caught her bored sigh, and the hint of a sad smile softened his mouth, making Jax think she had a chance.