The Memories We Hide

by jodi Gibson

  ‘I know, sweetie. But you can’t. I did that when your dad died. I wanted to push everyone away, but I had you. I had to make myself say goodbye and move on. And you do too, Laura. You have your whole life ahead of you. You can’t go on like this.’

  Laura nodded, wiping the tears of truth from her cheek. She knew Judy was right.

  ‘Promise me you’ll say goodbye to Ryan. Make amends with Tom. Maybe even Rachel if you can. Please, darling.’

  ‘I will. I promise.’

  Judy patted her hand and smiled. ‘Good. Now, where’s my smoothie? You know how much I love those horrible, green things you make me for breakfast.’

  Chapter 4

  The palliative care nurse visited morning and night now, but Judy wilted with each day. Her laugh mellowed to a smile and then to a nod. Laura sat by the bed as the nurse finished checking Judy on her morning visit. Laura held her mother's hand. Her skin was soft and loose as it hung slackly off her bones. The hand that was once so firm and strong. The hand that had rubbed her back when she was sick. The hand that had caressed her face when she cried. The hand that once tickled her ribs, tying them both in ribbons of laughter.

  The nurse packed up her things, put her hand on Laura’s shoulder, and leaned to whisper in her ear. ‘She’s as comfortable as can be.’

  Laura looked at the nurse. They didn’t need words. They both knew it was time. The doctor had been by yesterday, offering for Judy to come into the hospital where they could administer some morphine to make her more comfortable, but Judy had refused. ‘It is time,’ Judy had whispered to Laura.

  The nurse patted Laura’s hand. ‘I’ll put the kettle on for you,’ she whispered.

  Laura watched as her mother’s eyes wandered around the room and then focused on Laura, seemingly tracing the outline of her face, before the corner of her mouth twitched into a half smile and she gently closed her eyes.

  Laura felt the grip on her hand tighten, as if her mother was communicating the words she couldn't speak. She watched her chest rise and fall, taking in a final breath before it sank gently and remained perfectly calm and still. A warm feeling came over Laura, like a fluffy blanket. A hug. A goodbye. Laura laid her head next to her mum’s hand and sobbed. Her heart felt like it was being choked, her lungs searching for air. Emotions enveloped her thoughts. Guilt. Loss. Heartbreak. Loneliness. Despair. Helplessness.

  She moved closer and pushed the hair from her mother’s pale face. She touched her sunken cheeks and ran her fingers over her mother’s cracked lips, thinking of the kisses her mother used to smother her with every bedtime. Judy would tuck the sheets up close to Laura’s chin and then cover her cheeks and forehead with a flourish of what felt like a thousand kisses that would leave Laura in fits of giggles. Laura remembered when she was about ten, asking her mum why it was her ritual every night. She replied, ‘Because you should always go to sleep happy and knowing you are loved. Every single night.’ She’d smiled before adding, ‘I love you more than ice cream’–something Laura first declared at the age of four–something that had stuck and become their sign-off every night since.

  Laura wiped the tears with the back of her hand and whispered in her mum’s ear, ‘I love you more than ice cream.’

  The next few hours passed in a blur with Laura dealing robotically with the formalities that needed her attention. Finally, she found herself sitting at the kitchen table, the quietness of the house descending upon her. She picked up her phone and dialed Stella’s number.

  ‘Laura, you just caught me. How are you, sweetie? How’s Jude?’

  Laura swallowed, the tears rolling down her cheeks. ‘She’s gone, Stel.’ There was no easy way to push those words out.

  Stella gasped, and then Laura heard her begin to cry.

  ‘Oh, darling. I’m so sorry.’ She paused to sniffle. ‘Oh, Jude.’

  Laura’s shoulders shook. All she wanted to do was sink into Stella’s warm arms and be comforted by her peony scent of familiarity.

  ‘I’ll be right there,’ Stella whispered.

  ‘Have you thought about the funeral, honey?’ Stella said as they sat at the kitchen table after their initial grief had subsided.

  ‘I was thinking Thursday. I don’t want to drag it out. I have to ring the minister yet, and hopefully the CWA hall will be free, and—’

  ‘Laura, stop. Leave it all to me. I will handle it all.’

  ‘Stella, it’s okay…’

  ‘No. I insist.’

  Laura didn’t think she had any more tears to cry, but they still escaped her eyes.

  ‘Oh, darling. I’m so sorry. She loved you more than—’

  ‘More than ice cream. I know.’

  Stella chuckled through her sobs. ‘Oh, Laura. I’m here for you. Always know that, right?’

  ‘I know, Stella. Thank you.’

  Chapter 5

  ‘I'm sorry about your mum.’

  Laura's shoulders flinched as the deep voice echoed around her. Her legs were numb, the blood flow constricted after sitting on the white plastic chair overlooking the grave for so long. She vaguely remembered people nodding their condolences as they headed off to the hall across the road for the wake. Stella had told her she would wait, but Laura insisted she wanted to spend these last few moments alone. Since then, time had become irrelevant. She didn’t know how long she’d been sitting staring at the grave.

  Laura glanced up toward the imposing figure silhouetted by the dark clouds overhead. Gradually, Tom came into focus.

  He bent down at the other side of the grave, removed his Akubra and dropped a pink carnation on top of the mahogany coffin. ‘Carnations, right? Her favorite?’

  Laura smiled. ‘How do you remember that?’

  ‘Memories are all we got, aren't they?’

  Laura swallowed as her throat tightened. He was right. Memories were all she had. She sucked on her bottom lip to stop it from shaking.

  Tom rounded the grave and put his arm around Laura's hunched shoulders. She breathed out, relaxing under the familiar weight. ‘Come on, you’d better make an appearance at the wake. Don’t want to give the small-town gossip mill anything to talk about, do you?’ Tom stood up, offering her a bent elbow.

  Laura wiped the tears from her cheeks and rose off the chair. ‘How do I look?’ she asked.

  Tom reached over and tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. ‘You’ll do.’ He smiled.

  The Country Women’s Association hall was packed to the rafters with a monochrome pattern of people clustered in various small groups, some spilling out the open doors onto the grassed area. It appeared the whole township of Banyula was there.

  ‘Lucky with the weather,’ Tom stated as they neared the doors. ‘They’re forecasting rain. A lot apparently.’

  Tom’s hand was warm on her lower back as he ushered Laura through the door. Her heart became loud in her ears, and Laura wished she could skip the wake and head straight home, but it was too late for that. Immediately people drew closer to her, offering her warm smiles and embraces of sympathy. Laura smiled and nodded politely. There were old faces that she remembered. Some hadn't changed a bit, and others had weathered more unkindly due to the passage of time. The hall smelled of lavender and scones, and the myriad voices gathered in the void between the rafters and the high, timber-lined ceiling.

  Laura glanced around the room. There were a few groups of people mingling around the tea and coffee table, sipping their drinks and nodding their heads as they talked. Others were gathered around the food table, taking bites out of cucumber sandwiches or scones spread with lashings of homemade jams—Stella’s, no doubt. And there was Stella, busily arranging trays with an air of control and order. Laura smiled. Stella was a marvel. She did it all—cooked, baked, sewed, all while teaching at the public high school. Laura wondered how she and her mum would have ever survived without her. She’d been there for all Laura’s big occasions: birthdays, first communion, her debutante ball. Stella glanced up from her fussing to catc
h Laura’s eye and made a beeline toward her with outstretched arms.

  ‘Oh, darling,’ Stella said, embracing Laura. ‘Come on. You need to have something to eat.’ She led Laura to a trestle table covered in a fancy floral tablecloth. ‘Here, have my date slice. I know it’s your favorite,’ she said, passing it to Laura on a paper plate.

  The last thing Laura felt like doing was eating, even though she couldn’t remember the last time she ate. Her stomach grumbled despite herself as she bit into the sticky slice. Stella was right. It was her favorite. Memories of a hot date slice from the oven in Stella’s kitchen flooded back to her. Her mum and Stella laughed over the latest gossip Mrs. Hatfield was up in arms about while Laura licked the bowl, waiting patiently for the slice to be ready.

  ‘How are you doing, honey?’ Stella asked, rubbing Laura’s arm. ‘Are you sure you don’t want to stay at my place tonight? I hate to think of you alone around there.’

  ‘It’s okay. I’ll be fine. Might even get a start on packing things up.’

  Stella shook her head and tutted. ‘You haven’t changed a bit, have you? Always taking care of things. But it’s okay to take your time, you know? And of course, I’ll be around to help you tomorrow. Just tell me a time, and I’ll be there.’

  Laura swallowed the last mouthful of slice, running her tongue over her teeth before speaking. ‘Stella, you don’t have to.’

  ‘I know, sweetheart, but I want to.’

  Laura stiffened slightly. Stella meant well, but Laura wanted—needed—to be alone. The emotion of the past few weeks had started to wear her down. All she wanted was to be left alone, do what she needed to do, and get back to the city. Leave Banyula for good. ‘I … I just think I need to do it … you know, by myself,’ Laura whispered. ‘Just for the next day or so.’

  Stella put her hands on Laura’s shoulders, tears in her eyes. ‘It’s okay, love. I understand. Just promise me you’ll call if you need anything. Anything at all.’

  In the distance, someone beckoned Stella. The coffee urn had run out of water. ‘Hang on, Marge, I’m coming!’ she called out before turning back to Laura. ‘Promise me?’

  Laura nodded. As Stella hurried off through the crowd, Tom reappeared at Laura’s side.

  ‘Did you see Mr. Tate over there?’

  ‘Oh no,’ Laura mumbled under her breath.

  Tom pointed to a balding man who looked like he had a bowling ball or three stuffed under his shirt, the buttons straining at the seams. He hadn’t changed a bit. Mr. Tate had been their year twelve English teacher and had given all of them a year to remember. He was constantly on their backs, keeping them in for detention—even Laura, and she was the star student. Laura cringed. ‘Oh god, he’s spotted us.’ Sure enough, Mr. Tate was waddling his way through the crowd, waving his hand in the air at Laura.

  ‘Hello, Mr. Tate. So nice to see you.’ Laura smiled, glancing at a grinning Tom out of the corner of her eye.

  ‘Ms. Murphy. Laura. I’m so sorry about your mum. Bloody cancer. Mind my French, of course.’

  Laura smiled. ‘Thank you.’

  ‘Ah, and Mr. Gordon. How’s the farm going? I hear you have some big plans?’

  Tom nodded, swallowing a mouthful of scone. ‘Yeah, I’m setting up for the breeding program with my star Angus.’

  ‘Very good. Very good. Please say hi to your folks when you speak to them next. Are they still away?’

  ‘Yep, they’re up near Broome at the moment. Loving the gray nomad life.’

  Mr. Tate nodded, his beady eyes turning to Laura. ‘And Laura, what about you? What are you doing with yourself these days? It’s been so long. You’re still in the city, right? No doubt followed the law path, yes?’

  Laura swallowed. ‘Well, no. Not exactly.’

  Mr. Tate cocked his head, waiting for more, as Laura glanced sideways for an escape before lowering her voice. ‘I’m … um … in the beauty industry.’

  Mr. Tate raised his bushy, overgrown eyebrows. If eyebrows could talk, they’d tell her just how disappointed he was. Laura Murphy, star student, the one most likely to succeed at the year twelve awards, a beautician? ‘Oh, I thought when you went to the city it was to study law?’

  ‘Well, that was my plan.’ It had been her plan. But after Ryan’s death …

  ‘Mm-hmm, I see.’

  Laura wanted the ground to open and swallow her whole as her cheeks burned with shame. She thought about adding in how she had started a counseling course a couple of years ago, but that was only another plan she hadn’t had the drive to follow through with.

  ‘Excuse us, Mr. Tate, there’s someone Laura needs to see over there,’ Tom said, grabbing Laura’s arm and pulling her toward the double doors on the side of the hall in quick fashion. Laura felt herself relax as they stepped out into the fresh air.

  ‘Thanks,’ Laura said once they were standing under the dappled shade of a young magnolia tree. ‘I felt like he was going to order me to detention or something!’ Laura rolled her eyes. She accidently knocked elbows with the person behind her and looked around. ‘I’m sorry,’ Laura said quickly before realizing who it was. ‘Oh, Gemma, hi!’

  The last time Laura had seen her, she was a scraggly girl of eight, with a wide smile and pale aqua eyes full of cheek. Now, she had grown into her lanky legs and filled out her once boyish figure. Her brown hair was pulled back into a messy ponytail, and her eyes were flanked with dark shadows and rimmed with thick black eyeliner. Gemma quickly butted out the cigarette she’d been smoking, stamping it under her Doc Martens.

  ‘Um, hi,’ Gemma said, her eyes darting from Laura to Tom.

  ‘Hi, Gemma,’ Tom said. ‘Hey, Lauz, I’m just going to grab something else to eat. Want anything?’

  Laura shook her head, and Tom headed back into the hall.

  ‘Wow. It’s been ages,’ said Laura. Gemma nodded, not offering anything in return. ‘How’s your story writing going?’ Gemma was always telling Laura about the latest story she was writing. ‘You still writing?’

  Laura watched as Gemma’s cheeks flushed a deep pink. ‘Ah, no. Um, look, I’d better go.’ And without so much as a goodbye, Gemma disappeared around the other side of the tree and into the crowd of hats.

  Laura instantly thought back to the conversation she’d had with Stella. Gemma had changed. Laura always knew her to be such a bubbly girl. In fact, Laura found she was a bit annoying to have around sometimes because she never stopped talking, following her around like a puppy dog. How things changed. But, it had been a long time, and Gemma was now on the verge of adulthood, just as Laura had been when her life fell apart. Laura forced herself to concentrate on the clouds overhead to keep from waking her memories. The clouds were moving fast, gathering as if called to attention by mother nature. A storm was brewing.

  Tom returned with a cream bun, half in his hand, half stuffed in his mouth.

  Laura raised her eyebrows and smiled.

  ‘Shush-ten-ance,’ Tom mumbled through a mouthful, cream covering his top lip.

  ‘Right.’ Laura smiled and then let out a deep sigh, louder than she intended.

  ‘You look like you’ve had enough of people for one day. You want a lift home?’ Tom asked.

  Was it really that obvious? Although, Tom could always read her like a book. Laura nodded, pushing a stray hair behind her ear. She’d come to the funeral with Stella, but no doubt Stella would be here for a few more hours yet chatting and then cleaning up. Exhaustion knocked at Laura’s bones. ‘That’d be nice. Thanks. I just need to say goodbye to Stella.’

  ‘No worries. My Ute’s over there,’ Tom said, motioning to the parking lot. ‘I’ll meet you there in five.’

  Head down, Laura walked with purpose back inside, trying not to make eye contact. She spotted Stella carrying a fresh batch of homemade sausage rolls from the kitchen and placing them on the food table where hungry hands snapped them up like lions at feeding time. Laura felt her chest tighten with emotion. All these people had come to say goodb
ye to her mother. These were many of the same people who would have been at Ryan’s funeral. If she’d been there, she would have known for sure. But she hadn’t been.

  Unable to face both the grief that overwhelmed her and the pity of the townsfolk, Laura took a moment to breathe as her lip trembled. Thankfully Stella saw her and pulled her into her generous bosom. ‘Oh, darling, why don’t I take you home. I know it’s all a bit much,’ she said, patting her back gently.

  Laura cleared her throat. ‘It’s okay. Tom’s offered to drive me. I was just coming to say goodbye. And to thank you.’

  ‘Oh, love, you don’t have to thank me,’ Stella said as she broke the embrace to look Laura in the eyes.

  ‘But I do. You organized practically everything. And you’ve always been there, Stella. Even when …’ Her voice began to break.

  ‘Shh, come on. Enough of that. Not today. You go home. Rest. Do whatever you have to and take as long as you need. And as I said, if you need anything, you know where to find me. I’ll give you a tinkle tonight to make sure you’re okay, right?’

  Laura nodded as she wiped her eyes for the umpteenth time. ‘Thanks.’

  ‘Wow. It's immaculate,’ Laura said as she opened the door of Tom’s HQ Ute. The blue was as vibrant as when he’d first shown her years ago, the night of the Easter party before he turned eighteen. His dad was still working on getting it going for him as his eighteenth birthday present.

  She slid inside; the black vinyl interior was so shiny she could almost see her own reflection.

  ‘She's my baby,’ Tom said, smiling, as he shifted the Ute into gear, giving the engine a little rev until it began to purr like a contented kitten.

  They rumbled out of the parking lot, and Tom made small talk on their way to Laura’s. Laura stared through the window, memories of the place she once called home pounding in her head. The patchy roads and worn footpaths. The same tired shop façades she remembered, some now clearly vacant, some replaced with new stores she didn’t recognize. The biggest change had been the renovation of the local supermarket, but apart from that, Banyula was much the same as it had been ten years earlier.