Authors: NC Marshall
I
head straight to the city after leaving Sarah’s house. I feel like screaming,
or breaking down and crying, but I’m too furious to do either. She was married?
How could she be married to this man and nobody knew about it, not even Matt!
Was she married to Adam when she married Matt? Was my sister a bigamist? Even
thinking of the word makes me feel slightly sick.
She
was going to go with him, leave Matt and flee the country, but she didn’t and
Adam went without her. If he loved her that much, then why would he leave
without her? Was he the reason my sister killed herself? And where was he now?
On the other side of the world acting like nothing happened, that's where.
I
arrive in the city and head towards the wine bar that Lola works in. I need to
speak to her. Surely she will know who Adam is. She had been in Australia with
Jess for almost a year, but I’d never heard her mention him either, even after
Jess died.
I
walk into the pub and head straight to the bar. I could kill for a glass of red
wine, but resist the temptation. I didn’t touch a drop of alcohol all the time
that I was pregnant with Josh, and I don’t intend to with this pregnancy,
either.
The
pub is quiet today. The only customers are a group of young guys at the back
playing pool. It’s Tuesday. Lola works every Tuesday, so she should be here,
but I can’t see her. There’s a woman sitting at the bar who I know from when
Jess used to work here. It’s Jan, the manageress of the bar.
She’s
a nice woman, very down to earth and approachable. She had given great
references to both Jess and Lola when they went to Australia, which had in turn
helped them to secure jobs while they were there. Jan had thought a lot of the
two girls, and had even given Lola her job back when she had returned home.
Lola
had studied English literature at university and had graduated with a first.
However, when she found out that she was pregnant with Liam, continuing with the
part time bar job seemed a better option. It meant that she could be there for
Liam as he grew up, while Ryan pursued his career in accountancy, following in
our dad's footsteps.
Jan
sits at the corner of the long bar with a pile of papers spread out in front of
her. I can see as I get closer that they look like staffing rosters.
She
jumps from her seat when she sees me. “Hi, Nat. Long time no see, stranger.”
She gazes down in the direction of her papers that I’m looking at.
“Christmas
staffing rosters, I hate them! No matter how hard you try you can’t please
everyone.” She shrugs her shoulders at me.
I
smile at her. “Is Lola working today?” I ask, assuming that she’s on her break.
I’ll have to wait for her to return.
“No,”
she replies. “She’s got the next week off, gone to stay with her parents over
Christmas.”
Damn
it! I’d completely forgotten that she, Ryan and Liam were going to her parents today
and not returning until the day before New Year’s Eve.
“Oh
yes, sorry I’d totally forgotten,” I say, feeling glad that Dan had popped
around to their home while I was taking it easy last week. He’d taken their
Christmas presents then, so at least they have them. I would hate to think Liam
had missed out because of my own selfish problems.
I
don’t want to discuss Jess and Adam over the phone. I’ll wait until they come
home and ask if she wants to meet up then. The only thing that I can think is
that Jess swore Lola to secrecy about her and Adams relationship. She probably
didn’t know that they were married; Jess and Lola had gone their separate ways
after seven months in Oz. Jess had said it was because Lola had met a new group
of friends and decided to go travelling with them. She’d said that she was
really enjoying her job in Perth, she’d met new friends too, and she loved the
city so wanted to stay longer. She’d said that’s why she hadn’t gone on to
other places with Lola. I remember thinking it seemed a little strange. Now I
know that’s because it wasn’t true.
I
look around the small wine bar and can’t help but remember the last time I had
been in here. It had been my birthday the year before last. Dan was working
away as usual, so Jess had insisted on taking me out for a few drinks to
celebrate. Unfortunately, as usual, I didn’t handle my drink very well. I’d
managed a few double vodkas and a fantastic rendition of ‘I Will Survive’ on
the karaoke, before spending the rest of the night with my head down the pub’s
toilets. Jess had the same amount to drink as me, but she appeared fine. She
held my hair back from my face while I was sick, and then took me home in a
taxi and tucked me into bed.
“Can
I get you a drink?” asks Jan, as she pours herself an orange juice from a small
glass bottle on the bar.
“No
thanks,” I answer, as I back away to the door. I jangle my car keys in my hand,
“got to run.”
“Okay,
well have a lovely Christmas!” shouts Jan, as she picks up her pencil and
returns to work on her roster.
“You
too, Jan!” I shout over my shoulder as I leave.
*
It’s
four-thirty and I’m back at home preparing dinner. Dan’s still at work and Josh
is outside in the garden, playing with his football. I watch him through the
kitchen window, running around energetically on the lawn. I briefly wonder if I
should tell Dan about Adam, and about my visit to see his sister today and what
she told me, but I decide against it. There’s a part of me that wants to keep
this a secret, at least until I’ve met Adam or spoken to him, anyway. Kate will
want to know what happened too, I might just tell her I went to the address and
there was no one home, it would be easier that way. I suppose I’m a little
embarrassed by my sister’s possible actions.
I
continue to watch Josh playing. It’s Christmas Eve soon, and I need to think
about getting his presents wrapped. Luckily, I’ve finished my Christmas
shopping early this year, which is good because I don’t think I could face it
at the moment.
I
finish peeling some potatoes and put them into a large water-filled pan. It’s
starting to get dark outside, and the temperature has plummeted, so I decide to
call Josh in for the night.
I
step outside and run up behind him, catching him unaware in my arms and
swinging him up into the air and around in a circle. He giggles as I place him
back onto the ground and tell him to go inside to watch a little TV before
dinner is ready.
Josh
runs into the house, and I turn to follow him. But before I get to the open
patio doors something stops me dead in my tracks.
There’s
a shift in the air. Although it’s only ever so slight, a feeling of unease hits
me powerfully. I shudder as the coldness outside seems to suddenly increase,
pushing me to wrap my arms around myself. I start to move again, but something
stops me. I have the strangest sensation that someone is watching me, carefully
studying me from afar. Then there’s the smell, the familiar, dense, sweet,
fruity scent that I know so well. I know she’s there before I even turn around.
The
darkness seems to come in faster now. It spreads ruthlessly and encases me as I
slowly turn around, and sure enough, standing in the distance with her back
towards me, looking out over the hills of the countryside is Jess. I back away
as she slowly starts to turn to face me. I close my eyes tightly and shake my
head, hoping her image will vanish like before. When I open them, she has moved
closer and now stands directly in front of me. Time slows as I stare into my
sister’s lifeless eyes. Then, all I can hear is silence, cut by the sound of my
own voice, screaming.
The
wedding was perfect. It had been just Adam and I, along with his mum and dad
who doubled as our witnesses. I’ve grown very fond of his parents and I think
the feeling is mutual. Although we are young, and Adam and I have only been
together a year, they have accepted me as part of their family and seem to be
joyful at the fact their son is happy.
Adam’s
dad is in the early stages of Alzheimer’s, and I’m pleased for Adam’s sake that
he was having a ‘good’ day on the day we were married. In fact, I think he
really enjoyed himself. It was a shame that his sister and brother-in-law
couldn’t make it, but the wedding had been announced at such a short notice
that neither of them could get the time off work to travel over from Sydney.
We
were married in a small registry office in the city centre, and although basic,
it didn’t matter. I didn’t need the big puffy white dress or enormous bouquet of
flowers, six bridesmaids and a horse drawn carriage. I’ve never been one for
extravagance, preferring to keep things simple and focus on the things in life
that really matter. All I need is Adam. The day was rounded off with a BBQ in
Kings Park with a few of Adam’s close friends. I couldn’t have asked for
anything more perfect.
I’m
not so nervous now about calling Matt to tell him about Adam. I know that we
were never going to be anything more than friends, even though everyone had
thought that would be the case. We just don’t feel that way about one another.
I
know now that my life back in England is my old life. My new life is here, in
Australia, with my new husband. I’ve decided to call Mum and Dad tonight. I
know that they’ll undoubtedly be a little angry at first, maybe even a little
disappointed in me, but I know they’ll come around. They’ve always said that my
happiness is all that counts. I hope they stand by their word.
*
It’s
a Monday morning, and our wedding—which had only taken place on Friday—already
seems a million miles away. We have decided to hold on for a while until taking
our honeymoon. We need to save some money, then can hopefully head over to Bali
for a couple of weeks, but for now, ordinary life continues.
I’m
getting seriously close to being late for work. Adam left for work over an hour
ago. I must have fallen back to sleep, and have successfully managed to sleep
straight through the alarm. I’ve recently started a new job at a restaurant in
a trendy suburb just outside of the CBD. I love it. The job is excellent, the
staff is great, my boss is fantastic and I’ve been told if I continue the way
I’m going, they might promote me to a supervisor. But right now I’m looking at
getting myself sacked if I don’t get a move on.
Outside
the sky is gloomy, and the rain comes down in continuous sheets. I shudder as I
hear the rumble of thunder way off in the distance, soon followed by a brief
flash of lightening. I rush around the bedroom, frenziedly trying to find the
matching shoe to the one I have on.
Why can’t I be more organised like Nat?
She would never misplace her shoes.
After a solid three minutes of
searching for the elusive pump,
I admit defeat and am digging out
another pair of shoes from the back of the wardrobe when the phone rings.
My
heart skips a beat. Who is it? It can’t be anyone from back home because it’s
the middle of the night there. Maybe it’s Lola, calling from Melbourne,
probably to see how the wedding went. She’s the only person I’ve told, and I
trust her to keep my secret. She had been so disappointed that she couldn’t be
there with me, but she couldn’t afford the flight until she gets herself set up
with a job in Melbourne.
I
eventually find another pair of suitable shoes and slip them on as I hop and
run into the living room to find my mobile phone. I pick it up looking at the
caller ID showing on the screen—it’s Nat. Why’s she calling me in the middle of
the night?
A sickening feeling of dread hits me as I push ‘accept’ and
hold the phone to my ear.
“Hello,”
I say quietly.
“Jess,
it’s me, Nat.”
She’s
been crying, her voice is croaky and hoarse. I can tell straight away
something’s happened. Something bad.
“Nat,
what’s wrong? What happened?”
“Jess
you need to get home, something awful has happened... it’s... It’s Dad, he had
a massive stroke earlier tonight, he’s in the hospital.”
My
heart hammers and the room starts to swim in blurred shapes around me, I feel
like I’m going to pass out.
Nat
clears her throat, her voice is shaking. I imagine her closing her eyes on the
other end of the line, pain clouding her pretty face. “I’m so sorry Jess, they
don’t think he’s going to make it.”
*
I
run as fast as I can through the airport terminal. As I burst through the doors
at the main entrance, I pick up speed and narrowly miss sending an old man with
a walking stick flying into the air. After stopping briefly to apologise, I
reach the reservations desk and lean on it heavily, breathing hard, trying to catch
my breath. I’m lucky. There's a plane leaving for Singapore soon with a few
spaces left on it. From there I can get a flight to London, then another home.
It’s going to take me the better part of a full day, but at least I’ll get
there and see Dad at the end of it. He’ll be okay, I know he will, he has
always been a fighter.
I
call Adam from the departure lounge and explain what has happened. He tells me
to call him as soon as I get to the UK. He understands my urgency to get there
and is only sorry that he’s not there to support me.
I
can't afford the flight home. I’ve put the hefty charge onto a credit card,
which has bumped me up to my credit limit. The money that I had taken to
Australia was an unrealistic judgement to how expensive living here was actually
going to be, and that’s with help from Adam. I've already had a loan from Mum
and Dad, and don’t want to ask for any more money from them, especially not
now.
Sitting
in the departure lounge I think of Dad, of all the times that we have shared
together. I think back to Milton Point and how much fun we used to have there.
The last time we visited had only been a few weeks before I left for Australia.
We had taken a long walk along the beach, eating ice cream cones and talking.
He had his trousers rolled up to the knees and walked along the water’s edge,
letting the waves wash up his bare legs. It’s a memory I hold dearly, I’ve
always been so close to my dad. I can't bear the thought of not seeing him
again.
Nat,
Ryan and I always used to laugh about Dad’s favouritism towards me. He has
always said that the love he has for his three kids is like slices of cake;
each cut exactly the same, equal in shape and size. It didn’t bother Nat or
Ryan. They know that the bond me and Dad have is special, and joke that my
slice of cake will always be the one with the cherry on top.
I
look down at my hands; they are a golden shade of brown, and for once in my
life, my fingernails are long enough for a manicure. They look cute with the
glossy varnish and white tips I had done for the wedding. Small diamonds from
my rings catch in the overhead lights. I slide them from my wedding finger and
carefully place them into my purse, hiding any trace of my marriage.
Hang on
in there Dad, I’ll be there soon.
*
I
tap my hand against my side impatiently as I wait for the flight attendant to
check my boarding card, and point me in the right direction to where my seat is
situated on the aircraft. I hurry to it and quickly secure my hand luggage in
the overhead hold before taking my seat near the window, then fasten my
seatbelt. A middle-aged woman with bright red frizzy hair takes the seat next
to me, and smiles politely as I look at my watch. I need to calm down. I have
over five hours stuck on this flight and then another gruelling fourteen once I
hit Singapore. I’m going to work myself into a raging frenzy by then if I
continue like this.
The
woman next to me notices my frustration, and mistakes it for nerves.
“Are
you okay, darl? I hate flying too,” she states kindly, trying to show empathy
towards my non-existent phobia.
“Oh,
no, it’s not that. Flying doesn’t bother me,” I say, in an attempt to reassure
her that I’m not going to turn into a gibbering wreck as soon as we take off.
In
fact, I’ve always liked to fly. The moment, when a plane lands in a place that
you've never visited before has always excited me. That first glimpse of a new
land as the cabin doors open. The endless possibilities and adventure that lies
beyond has always appealed to me. I could never be a home bird. Although I love
my family, the world is too small not to explore all it has to offer.
“Are
you visiting Singapore on holiday?” asks the woman.
“No,
unfortunately not. I'm continuing on to the UK.” I pause, as tears prickle my
eyes and a lump starts to form in my throat. “I’m going to see my family.”
“Oh,
me too!” The woman beams back at me. “I have a son who lives in Scotland, he’s
in Glasgow. He just moved there six months ago. It’s the first time I’ve been.”
“You’ll
like it,” I say, managing a smile. “Scotland is a charming country.”
I
remember the last time I was in Scotland. It was not too long ago, when Nat and
Dan were married in a castle not far from the city of Edinburgh. An image of
Nat pops into my head, and I have a sudden need to see her. My sister’s level
head, sensibility and motherly instinct always calms me in situations like
this. I’ll see her soon, but for now I’m on my own.
*
By
the time I reach the hospital, I can hardly see straight. I haven’t slept in
over twenty-four hours, and the time difference is already playing havoc with
my brain. Jet lag has set in and I feel rough. I couldn’t stomach the food on
the plane, so can’t decide if my light head is because of that, the number of
time zones I have passed through, or the sheer state of panic that I have now
entered.
I
call Nat as soon as I arrive in London, and she tells me the ward number that
Dad is on. He is still unconscious and totally unresponsive, nothing has
changed and his condition is still the same. My family are at the City General
now, waiting for me to arrive.
I
get to the hospital as quickly as I can and head straight to the intensive care
unit. As I turn the corner into Dad’s ward, I see Nat and Ryan. They are
sitting on either side of Mum in a small waiting area opposite the ward’s
reception.
Ryan
looks like he’s grown taller in the year I’ve been gone. Nat has lost weight
and her hair is a lot longer than it was when I left. She has her arm around
Mum and strokes her arm. Mum’s head rests on her shoulder, she’s sobbing
quietly. They all look up at me in unison as they see me approach. Ryan shakes
his head slightly. His eyes are rimmed with redness, swollen and puffy. I can
tell from the state that they are all in that I’m too late, I’ve missed him.
He’s gone. Ryan gets up and walks towards me, but I back away from him, putting
as much space between us as I can.
No, no, this can’t be happening.
I
turn on my heel and my trainers make a loud squeaking against the hospital
corridor floor. I turn my back to my family, even though I haven’t seen them in
a year. I can’t bear to look at them, not like this. I start to run.
I
head for the nearest exit.
I need to get out of here, I can’t breathe.
My pace quickens as I move, people stare at me as I pass them, but I don’t
care, they can think what they like, none of them matter. I am just approaching
the exit when I slam into someone. I don’t even attempt to apologise. As I
start to move away, a pair of arms grab me and pulls me towards whoever they
belong to in a tight embrace. I don’t need to look up to know whose arms I’m
standing in, stable and familiar.
“Dad’s
dead Matt,” I sob, burying my head into his chest, feeling the heat of his body
through the thin material of his T-shirt.
“Shh,
I know, Kiddo. I know.” Matt’s voice is soothing, but he can’t disguise the
pain that he’s trying so hard to suppress from its tone, I know him too well.
Nat or Ryan must have called him. He thought the world of my dad, and
visa-versa. We stand in that spot in the middle of the hospital corridor for a
while. Matt strokes my hair, and I cry until I don’t think I have any more
tears left to shed. Matt takes my hand in his and grips it tightly as he leads
me back down the corridor in the direction I had just fled from moments ago,
towards my family.
As
we approach, they all stand and move towards me. Matt stays by my side and
grips my hand tightly as they reach me. My dad was dead, and I hadn’t even had
the chance to say goodbye.