“Declan?” Alyssa called, before appearing behind me. She was dressed in her work uniform and I frowned at the sight. She hadn’t said anything about needing to work. “I’ve been called in to work. It’s an emergency, and they’ve got no one else who can take the shift.”
“Okay.” I tried not to let my disappointment show in my voice. I’d been hoping to have some fun and extend the weekend.
“I, well, I don’t have anyone else to watch Phoebe. Would you mind? It’ll only be for a few hours at the most. I’ll be at work until at least six, but Mum can drop in and pick Phoebe up earlier.”
I heard what she wasn’t saying as loudly as what she had. She didn’t trust me to watch Phoebe. She’d checked every other resource and had no other options. I was the last fucking person she’d asked to babysit my own fucking daughter.
Dr. Henrikson’s words began creeping through my mind again. I wanted to scream and shout that we would be all right. That we didn’t need help. But I saw in that instant that I would be wrong. Terribly wrong. As much trust as I had gained from Alyssa over the weekend, I still had to work my arse off to earn the rest. There was only one way to do that.
“Lys.” I stood and wrapped my arms around her. “I can handle it. It’ll be great. What better way for us to get to really know each other?”
It was hard to sound reassuring. Even in my own ears my voice was weak and pitiful, and full of fear. I drove heavy, high-powered vehicles around a racetrack at high speeds for a living without batting an eyelid, and yet the idea of spending the day alone with my own three-year-old daughter frightened the living shit out of me.
I could do it though.
I would do it. If only to prove to everyone that I was committed to Alyssa and to Phoebe.
“You want me to get Mum to come over when she’s free? She can take Phoebe back to her house and give you a break.”
I shook my head. The idea of speaking to Alyssa’s family any time soon frightened me much more than spending a day with Phoebe.
“We’ll be fine. I can handle it,” I repeated, as much to reassure myself as Alyssa.
Alyssa raced around getting ready, calling out instructions for Phoebe’s routine as she went. Before long, she’d told me when to feed her, when to put her to sleep—apparently she needed to sleep at midday but couldn’t sleep for any more than an hour or she wouldn’t go to sleep later in the night. I was fucking exhausted just from Alyssa’s explanations of what I needed to do—and I hadn’t even started yet. My apprehension grew with every passing second. There wasn’t an opportunity for me to change my mind though, because with one last kiss and a whispered warning to Phoebe to be on her best behaviour, Alyssa was gone.
I stood staring at Phoebe, and she stood staring at me. I smiled a tight smile at her. “What would you like to do?”
“I want to go to Nana’s.”
“No, baby, we promised Mummy we’d stay here,” I said in my gentlest voice.
“But this house is boring!” She stamped her foot and crossed her arms.
Shit. Alyssa hadn’t explained any of this to me. I knew the whens of her routine, but had no idea what to do if she didn’t want to do something.
“Why don’t you watch a movie?” I suggested.
She nodded before turning and running into her room. She came out a few seconds later with a Wiggles DVD. We sat and watched it.
And then we watched it again.
And again.
By the fourth run-through I was going utterly crazy. I even knew the words to some of the goddamned songs. When Phoebe tried to get me to get up and dance with her, I drew the line. Like she had with Tom and Jerry, every time something came on that she liked she turned to me and told me all about it. Even on the fourth run-through.
Needing a break from the endless cheer on the TV, I looked at the time. Time for lunch, and then a sleep, according to Alyssa’s schedule. I checked the fridge, where Alyssa said she’d left some tuna sandwiches. I pulled them out and arranged them on a plate for Phoebe. I put them on a little table that was obviously designed for Phoebe to eat at. Then I headed back into the kitchen to fix something for myself.
“I don’t want stinky fish.” I turned to look at Phoebe when I heard her voice. She had her arms crossed again and a frown on her face.
“That’s all I’ve got,” I replied.
“I don’t want it,” she said more loudly, shoving the plate away from her.
Fuck! I wondered if Alyssa would be upset if I called her at work to find out what to do.
I couldn’t do it. Whether or not it was intentional, the day was a test. Alyssa might decide I wasn’t worth keeping around if I couldn’t even look after Phoebe for one day. If I failed now, I might lose them both.
“Please, baby?” I turned on my charm. It worked on retail workers and hotel managers but I wasn’t sure if it would work on her too.
She shook her head.
“What do you want to eat then?”
“A lollipop.”
“You can’t have a lollipop for lunch.” I laughed at the absurdity of the request.
“I want a lollipop.”
“After you eat something else?” I countered.
She shook her head.
I fixed her with a stern look, trying to let her know I wouldn’t back down.
With a little frown scrunching the skin between her eyebrows she stared back at me, equally unwavering. Then she put her hands on her hips and pouted. Just when I was about to relent, she spoke again. “I want a vegemite sandwich.”
“Now that I can help you with,” I said with a smile. “I just happen to make a mean vegemite sandwich.”
I whipped around the kitchen for a few minutes making the vegemite sandwich for her. I cut it into four squares and placed it in front of her. She took one look at the plate and pushed it away.
“I don’t want it.”
“That’s what you asked for,” I said, exasperated.
She shook her head. “I want it in triangles.”
What the fuck difference does that make? It’s a fucking vegemite sandwich for fucks sake. Vegemite is vegemite, regardless of how it’s cut. I bit back the words and swallowed down the frustration rising in my throat.
“Just eat that,” I said, trying to keep the annoyance out of my tone.
“No.” She turned her head away.
“Eat it.”
“I want triangles.”
With a sigh, I grabbed the plate and turned back toward the kitchen. I spent the next few minutes remaking the vegemite sandwich. This time I cut it into fucking triangles. I placed it down in front of Phoebe. She took one bite.
“Yuck,” she said, pushing the plate away.
Wondering whether I’d done something wrong, I grabbed one of the quarters and took a bite. “There’s nothing wrong with that. It’s a vegemite sandwich cut into triangles.”
“I don’t like vegemite.”
With a great effort, I resisted the urge to growl at her. I tried to remind myself that she was just a child.
“Then what do you want to eat?” I asked.
“Ice cream.”
I sighed. “You can’t have ice cream . . .” I started, but then decided it wasn’t worth the argument. After all, I didn’t have to tell Alyssa that I’d fed Phoebe ice cream for lunch. “You know what—fine. Have ice cream.”
I dished up the strawberry ice cream from the Neapolitan tub in Alyssa’s freezer. Phoebe ate it all quickly and smiled at me. That smile alone was worth a thousand uneaten vegemite sandwiches. We watched the Wiggles . . . again . . . before I told her it was time for a sleep.
“I don’t want to sleep.”
I sighed. “Mummy said you have to sleep.”
“I. Don’t. Want. To,” she said forcefully.
“Please?”
“No!”
“Please, baby?” I pulled out the charm again. “For Daddy?”
She shook her head violently and recrossed her arms.
&nbs
p; “Mummy said you needed to sleep though.” Alyssa had been very clear on the need for Phoebe to sleep. She said it had to happen no matter what.
Phoebe shook her head forcefully. Her brown hair flew around her face.
“Phoebe, we are having a sleep,” I said, trying to sound forceful but not scary. How the hell did anyone do this shit?
She shook her head again.
I stepped forward and picked her up gently to carry her into her room. She kicked her legs out and screamed. When I tried to put her back on the ground, she was still kicking and screaming and wouldn’t get her legs underneath her. Her cries were so loud the neighbours must have heard them.
Fuck me dead, I thought. How the fuck do people deal with this?
I couldn’t ring Alyssa. As desperate as I was for assistance from someone, I knew no one who could help.
Then I remembered there was someone I could call who had experience with children. I dialled Ben’s number and spoke to him briefly. Somehow through Phoebe’s screams, he was able to decipher the reason for my call. He told me some techniques that he used. Basically it boiled down to bribery and distraction. Too bad I couldn’t get a word in edgewise to try to distract her. I hung up the phone with a promise to call him later. For the moment, I had to deal with the still-screaming child who was now flailing on the floor.
Picking her up, and holding her as gently as I could while avoiding the hazards that were her arms and legs, I carried her to her room. I lay down on the bed with her and began playing a game Ben had suggested, Round and Round the Garden. Eventually, Phoebe began to calm, and even giggle, and I was able to convince her to lie still with me while I read her a story. Then I began to hum a tune to her. I couldn’t remember the words, but it was something Mum used to sing to me.
After what felt like hours of battling her, her eyes began to drift closed, and she fell asleep leaning against my chest. I didn’t want to move for fear of waking her. Allowing the peace and quiet of the now still house to wash over me, I closed my own eyes. Phoebe’s rhythmic, soft breathing made my mind drift slowly into slumber.
My eyes snapped open when I heard the front door click unlocked. A second later I heard a voice, that wasn’t Alyssa’s, call out, “Only me!”
Fuck. I knew that voice. It was a voice I hadn’t heard in over four years. The voice of a woman I’d once considered my second mother. I panicked, not sure whether I should call out in reply or not. In the end, I remained silent and hoped that she’d think no one was home.
After what felt like an eternity, Phoebe’s bedroom door cracked open.
I heard a sharp intake of breath.
“Declan?” Ruth exclaimed.
Fuck me.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE: MY APOCALYPSE
AFTER THE SMALLEST of glances at Ruth, I felt the panic and terror brand my face as it twisted into a contorted mask. I hadn’t felt a surge of fear so strong since hearing Josh’s voice at the airport. Working to pull my thoughts together, I put my finger to my lips to instruct Ruth to stay quiet. Which wasn’t entirely necessary because she just stared at me with her mouth gaping slightly anyway.
I shifted position, gently rolling Phoebe away from my chest. Silently, I stroked her cheek a couple of times to ensure she was still in a deep slumber before pointing to the door, indicating to Ruth to leave the room. Watching Phoebe the whole way, I backed out and pulled the door shut behind me. With the tones of the death march ringing through my mind as I went, I began the slow walk out to the living room.
By the time I spotted Ruth again, my heart was pounding as if Lars Ulrich was using it to practice his percussion. The more I thought about the things Alyssa and Ruby had said, the more I was certain I could hear the beat of “My Apocalypse” drumming against my chest. The words began to echo through my head.
Clenching my fists at my sides, I tried every technique I knew to stave off the panic attack I felt building within me. My chest was tight—my lungs too small to draw the correct amount of oxygen from the air. The room slanted to the left and began to spin.
Through the haze of fear that was rising within me I sensed, rather than saw, Ruth come from behind and circle around in front of me. A cacophony of sounds hit me. My own heartbeat became amplified in my ears. I could hear Ruth’s voice echoing above it, just slightly louder. It felt like she was screaming at me.
Louder and louder.
Words I couldn’t understand or hear properly. I crossed my arms on top of my head, using my biceps to block the violent rush of noise. The room skewed further off balance, and my breaths grew shallower. Hands clutched at me from what felt like all directions, pulling and tugging while the screaming and thudding continued.
I shut my eyes tightly and tried to chant my mantra silently to myself. I can get through this. I’ve had one before, and I made it through then. I can get through this. I’ve had one before, and I made it through then.
I became aware of a second voice mixing with Ruth’s. It took me a moment to realise it was mine. Slowly, the rushing sound in my ears quietened. Something soft hit the back of my knees and they gave way beneath me. What felt like a large pillow stopped my descent before I hit the ground. Fingers closed around my hands and the yelling slowly abated, although the voice didn’t quieten, it just began to sound less harsh in my ears.
“Declan . . .,” was the first clear thing I heard, but then the voice faded back into obscurity.
I dropped my head down to my knees and began to rock softly. My mantra wasn’t helping. There was only one thing I knew for certain that would help and unfortunately she was at work.
“Declan.” Ruth’s voice broke through the haze again. She sounded . . . worried?
Curiosity brought me back to the present. I tried to breathe again and was relieved when I found that my lungs seemed almost regular-sized once more. Lifting my head, I opened my eyes. Ruth was sitting on the couch beside me. She held her hands out toward me and her face was traced with concern.
“Declan?” she asked again as my eyes focused on her face. “Are you all right?”
I nodded, then shook my head, then nodded again. I honestly wasn’t sure whether I was all right or not. Whether I ever would be.
“Panic attacks?” she queried.
My lip quivered and I couldn’t find the word yes.
Her face softened. “You really did miss her, didn’t you?”
Tears welled in my eyes as I nodded again.
“Aw, baby.” She held her arms out in invitation. I crawled across the couch and into her embrace before letting the sobs overrun my body as it recovered from the rush of adrenaline that my panic attack had inspired. The last time she’d comforted me that way was when I was sixteen. It was after Alyssa and I had fought at school, over something as stupid as not saying I love you.
Despite our past, and how much she had been like a mother to me at times, I couldn’t fathom why Ruth was being so nice to me now. After everything I’d put her daughter, and her granddaughter through, why wasn’t she kicking my arse? I didn’t want to break the spell and ask, but eventually I had to. Extracting myself from her arms, I sat beside her on the sofa.
“Don’t you hate me?” I asked.
She brushed the hair off my face. A small frown graced her brow and her lips turned downward. “Sweetie, I may be disappointed in some of the decisions you’ve made, but I could never hate you. And it’s obvious you are in pain right now. That trumps everything else. Do you want to talk about it?”
“I was . . . scared,” I admitted. “When you came in. I thought . . . I didn’t know what you’d do. Everyone else hates me.”
She laughed, just a soft chuckle. It reminded me of Alyssa. “Curtis and Josh have thick heads, that’s all. You hurt their baby girl. But you know that, right?”
I nodded.
“And you hurt yourself just as much, didn’t you?”
Swallowing down the lump in my throat, I nodded again. Ruth had always been intuitive and there was no point lying to her.
“Ruby told me about your talk, and Alyssa told me about your dinner at McDonald’s. I can tell you’re trying to do the right thing. That means something. I wanted to see you sooner, to talk to you, but Alyssa asked me not to. She thought you might need your space.”
“Thank you,” I managed. I wasn’t sure whether to feel touched that Alyssa had thought to ask for space on my behalf—or offended because it was another sign that she still didn’t trust me. Did she think I could be run off? “But why are you here now then?” It wasn’t until after the words had escaped that I could see how rude they might sound. “Shit, fuck, I didn’t mean it like that.”
She smiled. “It’s all right, Declan. I usually drop by to see Alyssa a couple of times a week when she’s not working. Where is she, by the way?”
“She got called in to work. Apparently, it was a big emergency.”
Ruth raised her eyebrow at me. “And she left you alone with Phoebe?”
I bristled. Her amazed tone pissed me off. Was it really that hard to believe that Alyssa would trust me to look after my own fucking daughter? Okay, so I was apparently the last resort, but it wasn’t that unthinkable was it? After all, I’d had to endure the mother of all temper tantrums and I’d survived. With my mouth twisted in distaste, I went to say something but Ruth cut me off.
“I just meant that Alyssa very rarely leaves Phoebe with anyone. Me, Flynn, Ruby, and occasionally your mum. That’s it. We practically had to drag her down to enrol Phoebe in day care. She’s very protective of her. I think sometimes Lys still sees Phoebe as the broken baby who wouldn’t have survived without her brother’s gift, and not always as the strong, smart child she has grown into.”
Her words came as a shock. The thought of how hard it was for Alyssa to trust anyone else with Phoebe had never even crossed my mind. It dawned on me just how big a deal it was that Alyssa had allowed me to babysit at all so soon after coming back into their lives. A smile crossed my face as Ruth’s words cemented the fact that Alyssa did in fact trust me.
“Would you like to stay for the afternoon?” I asked Ruth.
Deceive (Declan Reede: The Untold Story #2) Page 26