Stella Makes Good (26 page)

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Authors: Lisa Heidke

BOOK: Stella Makes Good
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This was the longest conversation she’d had alone with her father in years. It made her feel sad for all the time they’d lost.

‘Am I the reason you haven’t been back?’ he asked.

She could see how hurt he was, the tragedy of Jesse’s accident compounding his grief and sadness. She didn’t want to add to that.

‘No.’

‘Then why, Louisa? Why did you stay away so long?’

‘I’m sorry,’ she said, her voice breaking. ‘I thought you wouldn’t want to see me. I was ashamed . . . I’m still ashamed. My own father knowing . . .’

Tom hugged her. ‘I don’t care about that. It’s all in the past. I care about my family. You are my daughter and I love you. Have always loved you, no matter what.’

Louisa felt hot tears falling down her cheeks.

‘I’m glad you finally made it back to us, Looey-boo. I’m just sad it’s under these circumstances.’

They both turned to look at Jesse again, and Louisa thought she saw a brief flicker of movement.

‘Dad, I think her eyes just fluttered!’

fter dropping Louisa home, I spent the afternoon dithering, picking up groceries, running errands, doing anything I could to distract myself from thinking about Jesse. I drove halfway to the mountains with the radio turned up full volume just so I wouldn’t have to think. But of course none of it worked. Jesse was always on my mind. I felt so bloody guilty that she was lying in hospital in a coma. It was my fault. If only I’d stayed with Jesse after Liz sacked her.

By the time I got home, it was well after five. June was out the front, raking leaves.

‘June!’ I walked over and took the rake from her. ‘Give me that! It’s blazing hot out here. You should be resting.’

‘All I do is rest. I like to keep busy.’

‘At least come inside and have a cold drink or a cup of tea.’

‘Good idea,’ she said. ‘How’s Jesse?’

‘No change, I’m afraid. The doctors were running more tests as I was leaving. The good news is that her sister’s arrived from the States.’

June nodded and took a seat at the kitchen bench. I busied myself filling the kettle with water.

‘It’s just so tragic. I keep thinking about Oliver and Emily.’

‘You never know what’s around the corner,’ she said.

I shook my head. ‘No, you don’t. So how are you feeling? You’re looking bright.’

‘Stella, I’m not an invalid. I’m feeling fine. And I’m not going crazy either.’

‘I never said you were crazy.’

‘Really? Then why all the memory tests with your doctor friend?’

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’

‘Don’t give me that. Those tests weren’t run-of-the-mill. They were specific tests for Alzheimer’s. I know. I’ve done them before. It’s not as if I haven’t been worried about it myself.’

‘June, I’m sorry. I thought you might fly off the handle or get embarrassed. Or worse, not know what I was talking about. It was wrong of me.’

June raised her eyebrows. ‘I’ll say.’

I poured boiling water into the teapot and took a couple of cups from the cupboard. ‘Come and sit out on the deck.’

‘I know I can be absent-minded and forgetful,’ she said once we were settled, ‘but I’m old. I can’t be bothered remembering every specific detail of all the thousands of things I’ve done or am doing. Not to mention keeping up with everyone else’s dramas. And I still think Terry was a fool to leave you.’

‘It was mutual.’

‘I know, but I don’t think it’s ideal.’

We sat in companionable silence for a while.

‘I can’t bear the thought of Jesse lying in hospital, lifeless,’ I told her.

‘Then don’t,’ she said. ‘Imagine her doing something she loves, like being with her children or working at the library. Thinking about her lying in some God-awful hospital room isn’t going to help anyone, least of all Jesse. You need to stay positive; it’s your only hope of getting through this.’

‘You’re right,’ I said, just as my mobile started ringing. I checked the caller identification. ‘Terry,’ I mouthed to June as I pressed the answer button. ‘Hey, what’s up?’

‘Just checking in.’

‘That’s nice.’

‘How’s Jesse?’

‘No change. The doctors are running more tests. How are things with you?’

‘Not so good, I’m afraid.’

June started clearing the cups away. ‘Leave those,’ I whispered. ‘Just sit down and read the paper.’

‘Is that Mum? How is she?’

‘Very good.’ I smiled. ‘Excellent. Now, about you not being so good: why?’

‘Things aren’t working out with Amanda.’

‘But you’ve only been living with her a couple of weeks.’

June rolled her eyes and walked into the kitchen taking empty tea cups with her.

‘And she wants to marry you,’ I whispered so that June wouldn’t hear.

‘Exactly. Too much pressure. Can I come home?’

‘Which home? This home? My home?’

‘Yes.’

‘The short answer is no. I’m sorry, Terry.’

‘But why? I don’t want to live with Amanda.’

‘Then don’t. Live by yourself.’

‘I can’t do that,’ he said, sounding bemused by the notion. ‘I’d be alone. I don’t want to be alone, Stella.’

‘What’s the alternative? Find a replacement and move in with her?’

‘Funny. No. After everything that’s happened, I thought that maybe you and I could try again?’

Oh, Terry. I loved him. I truly did. He was the father of my children and a damn fine father at that. As much as the kids went on about him, they loved him, too. But as for us resuming our marriage? Not a chance. Terry was one of my closest, dearest friends and I hoped he’d always remain so, but the idea of having sex with him again? Well, that wasn’t going to happen, no matter how many tequilas I slammed down.

‘Tempting as that is, I’m afraid my answer is still no,’ I said. ‘Regardless of any problems you’re having with Amanda, running back to me isn’t going to solve anything.’

‘Really, Stella, you can be so hard. Can I speak to Mum, please?’

‘Sure . . . and Terry, everything will work out. Okay?’

‘Thanks.’

I found June hovering by the kitchen sink, handed her the phone and left them to talk in private.

Terry was a good bloke. He’d always be in my life, but I didn’t tingle any more when I thought about him. Not the way I tingled when I thought about Mike. Maybe, just maybe, I could give it a go with him. The timing was rotten, the kids would object, but if we kept it quiet for a while until we were both really sure, then maybe. All I knew was that I wanted to keep an open mind, and if Mike wanted to take me out to dinner, that wouldn’t be such a bad thing.


I was in bed reading that night when Mike called. Date call, I thought, then checked the bedside clock. Ten thirty. A bit late for chit-chat. He was really pushing the boundaries of good manners. But the thought vanished instantly at his first words after ‘hello’.

‘I think I might have good news for you.’

‘What? Really?’

‘Yes, really. Jesse’s eyes fluttered open three times this evening. She’s definitely showing signs of emerging from the coma.’

‘I’m coming straight in.’

‘Hang on,’ he said. ‘I’m not saying she’ll wake up in the next hour or two. She’s still not responding to requests to squeeze her hand or blink. But the signs are encouraging.’

‘That’s good enough for me.’

I hung up, threw on a pair of jeans and a T-shirt and raced over to Carly’s. I had to knock several times before Brett finally answered.

‘What’s up?’ he said, looking dazed.

‘It’s Jesse,’ I said breathlessly. ‘She might be waking up.’

‘Waking up?’ said Carly, emerging from the guest room. ‘What are we waiting for, then?’

She and Brett were obviously having problems, but now wasn’t the time to ask. We needed to focus on Jesse and, hopefully, some good news.

Within twenty minutes, Carly and I had arrived at hospital and were treading the familiar path up to the third floor. Louisa and Dot were sitting by Jesse’s bed. They waved us in, and we hugged before turning to look at Jesse.

‘It’s going to be okay,’ Dot said, sighing with relief.

The four of us crowded around the bed, willing Jesse to make some further sign, but she looked just as she had the past few days—all bandages, bruises and tubes. My heart felt like it was breaking all over again. It wasn’t as if I was expecting her to jump up and dance the macarena, but I’d hoped for some confirmation, no matter how small, that she was on the mend.

‘Where are Ollie and Emily?’ I asked.

‘At home with Tom,’ said Dot. ‘After what Ollie went through earlier today, we don’t want the children seeing Jesse again until we’ve got firm news about her recovery.’

‘And Steve?’ Surely he should have been rearing his ugly head by now.

‘No one’s been able to contact him,’ said Louisa. ‘He came in briefly this afternoon, but left just before Jesse started responding. He asked Mum and Dad to take Em and Ollie for the night. We’ve called his mobile and left a couple of messages but he seems to have disappeared.’

Good.

My expression must have revealed what I was thinking because Dot said, ‘Perhaps it’s for the best at this stage. It certainly feels calmer when Steve’s not here.’

‘If my partner was lying here, I’d never leave, not if I could help it,’ Louisa said.

Dot looked at Jesse and then at Louisa. ‘He has to give the kids some sense of normality and continuity. And who knows why people behave the way they do. Perhaps seeing Jesse lying here is too much for him to handle.’

‘Too bad, she’s his wife.’

‘I agree, but when the going gets tough, sometimes people run away rather than face their responsibilities.’

I tried to catch Carly’s eye, thinking that we should leave Dot and Louisa to their private conversation, but she was in a daze, staring at Jesse.

‘Steve has the twins to consider,’ said Louisa. ‘He should be thinking of them instead of about himself.’

‘Some people never learn, never grow up,’ Dot said. ‘Maybe Steve . . . ’ She trailed off, then added, ‘How many of us do silly things when we’re young, never thinking about the consequences?’

‘And when we’re not so young,’ said Carly. ‘Never thinking about how our stupid actions and their repercussions will haunt us later in life.’

‘I suppose I’d do some things differently if I had my time over again,’ said Louisa thoughtfully.

Mike arrived at the door. He looked shocking—pale and exhausted. He motioned for me to come outside.

‘What’s up?’ I said. ‘Please don’t tell me it’s Jesse. We’re all so hopeful. She’s—’

‘Stella, Jesse’s going to be fine. Her physical recovery will take time but the signs are definitely positive. I believe we’re through the worst. There’s something else, though . . .’

‘What?’ I could barely contain myself. ‘Mike, what is it?’

‘It’s Steve.’

I raised my eyebrows. Steve was the least of my concerns. If he wanted me to leave Jesse’s room, he’d have to come in and personally frogmarch me out. I was staying where I was until she regained consciousness. Carly, me, Jesse’s mother and father, even Louisa—we’d all been a hell of a lot more attentive than Steve had been the past few days.

‘Okay,’ I said. ‘What about him?’

‘He’s in emergency . . . an overdose.’

‘Pardon?’

‘Cardiac arrest. Looks like he’s been on a bender. Most probably cocaine and—’

‘Jesus! Will he be okay?’

‘Yeah, but it was touch and go for a while.’

‘Shit, shit, shit.’ I shook my head. ‘Does he have a dodgy heart?’

‘Maybe. We’ll run some tests over the next couple of days. Then again, maybe he just overdid it tonight.’

‘You’re kidding me,’ said Louisa, who had appeared beside me. ‘Talk about karma.’

Dot and Carly joined us, and the four of us listened to Mike’s summary of the situation, all dumbstruck. Then Carly began to laugh. We all stared at her, horrified.

‘I don’t mean anything by it,’ she said, but she’d set Louisa off now, too.

‘But Steve,’ said Dot. ‘He’s had a heart attack?’

I rubbed her back. ‘It seems so.’

Louisa was shaking her head. ‘What an idiot. I mean . . . why?’

‘Maybe the pressure,’ I said. ‘And tonight he finally flipped.’

‘We’ve all certainly been under a lot of strain in the last few days, that’s for sure,’ Dot agreed.

Carly nodded. ‘It’s been a difficult week,’ and within seconds her and Louisa’s laughter had turned to sobs.

Dot shook her head sadly and sniffed back her own tears. ‘Those poor children,’ she kept saying.

I was still too shocked to make a sound.

Mike did his best to calm us down, while a nurse organised cups of tea. By the time we had composed ourselves enough to walk back into Jesse’s room, it was well after two in the morning. We gathered around her bed, Louisa holding her hand. Fittingly, Robbie Williams’s ‘Angels’ was playing as we sat there quietly, not knowing what to say or where to look.

Dot broke the silence, reminiscing about the birth of Jesse’s twins. ‘They were big babies. Huge.’

‘That would have been the last time Jesse was in a hospital,’ said Louisa.

‘Cracked rib,’ Jesse croaked, barely audible. ‘Two years ago.’

I felt as if I’d stopped breathing.

‘Jesse?’ Louisa said.

Jesse’s mouth moved. ‘I’m here,’ she whispered. ‘Always have been.’

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