Finding Hannah

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Finding Hannah Page 4

by Fiona McCallum


  ‘Thank you for being my friends and for being here. You mean the world to me and I love you all very much.’ She choked back a sob when Oliver and Ethan solemnly raised their plastic cups and mumbled unintelligibly to mimic the adults’ murmurs of agreement.

  ‘You’re the best ever sort-of-auntie,’ Oliver said as he put his cup back down.

  ‘Yes. You really are,’ Ethan said, his lips pursed.

  Sam reached across the corner of the table and clasped her friend’s hand and Auntie Beth did the same from the other side. Hannah bit her lip to stop herself from crying, and squeezed back.

  She pulled back after a moment and stared down at the table, until a slight commotion between Rob and Sam and the boys made her look up with a start.

  ‘Shh, just eat,’ Sam hissed.

  ‘But, Mum, it’s not …’

  ‘What’s up, boys?’ Hannah asked.

  The twins pursed their lips, their little arms folded tightly across their chests in defiance.

  ‘Come on, you can tell me.’

  ‘There are no crackers,’ Oliver said finally.

  ‘Oh. Well, that’s no good. We can’t eat Christmas lunch without silly hats on,’ Hannah said, making a huge effort to sound jovial. She was actually a little relieved to turn her attention to the small boys; she’d been struggling to even look at food, let alone eat anything.

  ‘See, Mum,’ Oliver and Ethan said. ‘Auntie Hann understands.’

  ‘It’s okay, boys, things are a little different this year. But we can do crackers,’ Hannah said, looking around, frowning. Last night the table had been set with sixteen places, festive table centre, candles and two crackers on each placemat.

  ‘I’ll get them,’ Sam said, standing up and going to the sideboard.

  Soon they were all wearing colourful tissue-paper hats and the boys had a collection of small useless plastic trinkets beside them. To anyone looking in through the window it might have seemed like an ordinary Australian suburban Christmas, although it was anything but that. For one, the slips of paper with stupid, corny jokes lay unread on the table. For another, what little of the meal that was consumed was largely done in silence, the only sounds the clink and scrape of cutlery on fine bone china.

  Hannah cut up all her meat and pushed her meal around her plate, backwards and forwards, from one side to the other and back again. She took a deep breath and picked up a tiny piece of pumpkin with her fork. And then put it down again. No matter how hard she tried, she just couldn’t eat.

  Thankfully her plate was gathered quickly along with the others – all except the boys’ meals were largely untouched – and no comment passed. A few new tears trickled down Hannah’s cheeks at the thought of how devastated Daphne would have been seeing such wastefulness. Ordinarily Hannah would have been too, but she was only just managing to sit upright and keep herself together a little for the boys.

  The process was repeated with the fruit pudding, custard and cream – a bowl was placed in front of her, and again she feigned interest while the others ate sparingly. Then the food she’d mangled into a mess was collected along with the others’ bowls of partially eaten desserts. Again, all without a word. Thankfully the boys seemed too engrossed in their food to take much notice.

  Finally they were all pushing back from the table and packing everything up. Rob took the boys into the backyard, out of the way while Hannah sat, as instructed, at the kitchen bench and vacantly watched on while Sam and Auntie Beth rinsed the pans and loaded the dishwasher.

  ‘God, all this leftover food,’ Hannah said, her stomach turning again at seeing the platters on the bench in front of her.

  ‘We’ll pack it up and freeze it for you. It won’t go to waste.’

  Hannah nodded. It was well-known how much Hannah Ainsley loved her Christmas-lunch leftovers – just as they were or turned into shepherd’s pie or curry. Well, not any more. She really wanted to tell them that the last thing she needed was to be reminded of this terrible day every time she opened her freezer or ate a meal of leftovers, which, looking at how much food there was, might take her three months to get through. And she couldn’t imagine finding the energy or inclination to cook up a storm. What would be the point when there was no one to cook for?

  They’d just finished when Rob came back in. ‘I think I’d better take the boys home,’ he said, ‘they’re starting to get overtired.’ He looked a wreck and was running his hands through his dark blond hair over and over again.

  ‘Yes, it’s been a big day,’ Sam said, looking a little stricken too.

  ‘Darling, it’s fine, you stay with Hannah,’ Rob said, laying a hand on his wife’s shoulder. ‘If Hannah wants you to, that is.’

  ‘That’d be good, thanks. If it’s okay with you,’ Hannah said, not sure what she wanted other than to curl up and go to sleep and then wake up sometime later to find out her life was still just as it had been on Christmas Eve. But as much as she wished for it, she knew it wasn’t going to happen. The next best thing was to have her dear friend Sam beside her. Perhaps it was selfish – Sam’s little family needed her, but Hannah couldn’t make herself say it was okay for Sam to go. She did have Auntie Beth who she knew would be a brick, but still …

  ‘I’ll be off,’ Auntie Beth said.

  ‘Oh, don’t go on my account,’ Sam said, clearly concerned.

  ‘It’s fine, Sam, honestly. I’m a little worn out, actually. Hannah, darling, I’ll be right across the road. Call or come over if you need anything. Anything at all. Either of you. Anytime.’

  Hannah nodded. ‘Thanks, Auntie Beth. For everything. I’ll speak to you tomorrow.’

  ‘I’ll help you strap these ragamuffins in,’ Sam said, ruffling the hair of the twins now standing on either side of her chair. ‘Quick hug and thank you to Auntie Hannah, boys.’

  ‘Thanks for Christmas, Auntie Hann,’ Oliver and Ethan mumbled into Hannah’s chest as they both hugged her.

  ‘Sorry it was a bit weird, boys.’

  ‘That’s okay,’ they both said, and wandered towards the hall where Sam stood with Beth.

  ‘I’m so sorry, Hann,’ Rob said, sitting beside Hannah and wrapping his arms around her. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow. But call if I can do anything at all.’

  ‘Thanks Rob.’ And thanks for letting Sam stay.

  Chapter Four

  Hannah sat in the lounge room desperately trying not to look towards the corner that was filled with the Christmas tree and the piles of presents covering the floor around it. The tree was still beautiful with its ornaments and brightly coloured lights, but if she had the energy she’d pull it down – and give into the disappointment she now felt for Christmas and all it entailed. Bloody Christmas, I hate you! She wanted to scream. But instead she sat there staring dumbly and feeling everything but nothing.

  ‘How are you doing?’ Sam said, breaking the silence as she came back into the room and handed her another mug of milky tea.

  ‘Thanks. Honestly, I don’t really know. I feel numb. And sad, Sammy, so, so sad,’ Hannah said. She had her hands wrapped around the mug. It probably should have been too hot to hold like this, but she couldn’t feel anything except its weight.

  ‘Of course you do, darling. You’ve had a huge shock. You’ll feel sad for a very long time. And you might get angry and afraid and overwhelmed, and everything in between.’

  ‘The police arriving and everything since then is a bit of a blur. I know I spoke to them and sat down to lunch and everything, but … We did crackers, didn’t we?’

  ‘Yes, and the boys were so grateful. Thank you for doing that for them. You don’t know how much …’ Sam choked back a sob.

  ‘It’s as if it was someone else doing all those things. Or I dreamt it, or something. You know, like it wasn’t real and not really me.’

  Sam nodded.

  ‘God, what am I going to do without them?’

  ‘You’re strong, Hann, you will be okay. You have to believe that. It’ll take time.’


  ‘I feel like I’m a completely different person from the one who woke up this morning.’

  ‘You are a completely different person, Hannah. Nothing will ever be exactly the same again. You don’t get over something like this,’ Sam said. ‘You get through it. One step at a time.’

  ‘I know they’re gone, but it doesn’t make sense, it’s like my brain won’t truly believe it. I only saw Tristan and spoke to Mum and Dad this morning. I keep half-expecting them to turn up and announce there’s been a huge mistake. But that’s not going to happen, is it?’

  ‘I’m afraid not, sweetie.’

  ‘God, I really don’t want to go and see them in the morgue all, you know, damaged.’ And dead.

  ‘I couldn’t do it. Rob has said he will. Or perhaps Auntie Beth – she’s known them longer. And maybe Tristan’s parents could …’

  ‘Oh no!’ Hannah said.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Tristan’s parents haven’t been told. Or would the police have rung them?’

  ‘I don’t think so. They came here because this is where the car was registered to – and the address on Tristan’s licence.’

  ‘God, how could I have forgotten? Here I am sitting around drinking cups of tea and chatting when …’

  ‘Don’t beat yourself up, it’s only been a few hours. Where are they at the moment?’

  ‘Tasmania. I’m not sure exactly where. And I thought lightning wasn’t meant to strike twice,’ Hannah added, suddenly remembering their previous loss.

  ‘Shit, I’d forgotten about that. The poor, poor things.’

  ‘God, it’s really not the sort of news you should hear over the phone, is it?’ said Hannah.

  ‘No, but I don’t think you have much choice. Do you want me to call them for you?’

  ‘Thanks, but I’d better do it. And right now.’ She placed her mug on the coffee table and made her way through to the kitchen where the phone sat on its charger. It was blinking with messages. She hadn’t heard it ring. Someone must have turned the volume down to silent on both the handset and the base station earlier. Thank goodness for that. Hannah sighed.

  She and Tristan tended to keep their mobiles on silent while they were at home. Right now she was grateful for that too. The thought of calling people back and saying the same thing dozens of times and answering the same questions over and over made her feel exhausted and overwhelmed. If only she could leave it like that and ignore all the messages and calls forever.

  She tried unsuccessfully to steady her nerves with some deep breathing and then, with shaking fingers, she scrolled through the saved numbers until she found Raelene and Adrian Ainsley Mobile. She took several more deep breaths to try to steady her racing heart and pressed the green call button. The ringing seemed to go on forever. She was deliberating over whether to hang up or leave a simple please call me message if the voicemail ever cut in when a breathless female voice answered. ‘Hello?’

  ‘Raelene, it’s Hannah.’

  ‘Hannah, happy Christmas. Lovely to hear from you. Tristan rang early this morning, but I think you were in the shower or busy putting together your gorgeous big lunch. I hope you’ve had a wonderful …’

  ‘Raelene, are you driving or in the van? It’s …’

  ‘Of course we’re in the van. You know we’re off travelling in Tasmania,’ she said with a laugh.

  ‘Yes, but are you driving or stopped and inside your van right now, sitting down? And is Adrian there with you?’

  ‘What is it, Hannah? What’s going on? You’re worrying me. Yes, we’re parked and in the van.’

  ‘Please just get Adrian and sit down.’

  ‘He’s here beside me.’

  Hannah took a deep breath. ‘There’s been an accident, a car accident. Tristan’s been killed.’ She hoped the words weren’t too harsh, but how else did you say it? There was no way to carefully step around the truth. She was grateful to feel Sam’s comforting arm come around her shoulder.

  ‘What? No. He can’t be. We spoke to him this morning,’ Raelene said.

  ‘What’s going on?’ Adrian asked gruffly.

  ‘Adrian, I’m really sorry to have to tell you this – especially over the phone – but Tristan was killed in a car accident a couple of hours ago.’

  ‘Where? What was he doing out on the road on Christmas Day?’

  ‘He was picking my parents up from the retirement village to bring them over for lunch. I think a truck might have run a red light or something. That’s all I know right now.’

  ‘Oh. Are your parents okay?’

  ‘No, they’re, um, they’re gone too.’ Hannah barely managed to get the words out. She bit her bottom lip to try to stop the new wave of tears.

  Hannah heard a loud exhale of breath. ‘Oh god. I’m so sorry. We’ll be there just as soon as we can. We’ll start packing up right now. But I’m afraid it’s going to take us a couple of days to get there.’

  ‘Thanks very much. That would be good. Please drive safely, though.’ It was a useless thing to say, but it had come out automatically. Tristan was a careful driver, just like his father, and look where that had got him.

  After hanging up Hannah stared at the phone in her hand, trying to figure out what she felt, if anything.

  ‘They’re on their way, then?’ Sam said.

  ‘Yes. Oh, Sammy, that was the hardest phone call I’ve ever had to make,’ Hannah said, sagging into her friend. ‘They were so nice. I half expected them to be angry at me – I don’t know why, just because of the shock I suppose. I still feel awful for having to tell them over the phone.’

  ‘You were very brave to do it. And at least they have each other for support.’

  ‘God, I’d better tell Steve at Tristan’s work so he can let everyone know. Oh, and the retirement village. And my boss to arrange to take some time off work … I don’t know how long I’ll need. Oh, god, what a mess.’

  ‘Just breathe, sweetie. Slow, deep breaths. There’s no rush. People will understand. And I’m pretty sure Rob called Steve as soon as we found out – when he was outside with the boys. I’ll text him to make sure.’

  ‘Right. Of course,’ Hannah said, nodding. In her haze, Hannah had completely forgotten that Tristan’s boss, Steve, was an old friend of Rob’s – that’s how Tristan had got the job.

  ‘And if you give me your Facebook login I’ll do a post on your behalf.’

  ‘God, what would I do without you?’

  ‘I’m here, Hann, and I will be, for whatever and for however long you need me,’ Sam said, smiling warmly at her friend and trying to hold back her own tears. ‘We’ll just take it one step at a time.’

  ‘All the phones are blinking with messages. I can’t face them, but I can’t just delete them, can I?’

  ‘People will understand if it takes you a while to get back to them – and I’m sure even if you don’t answer them at all, for that matter. For the mobile ones we can do a group text message.’

  ‘Yes, let’s do that now. Then I’ll feel like I’ve at least done something useful.’

  ‘Okay, and we’ll write a to-do list. That might help you stop feeling so overwhelmed,’ Sam said, getting up and leading the way to the study.

  Hannah trailed slowly behind, feeling the slightest sense of relief at having someone else making the decisions.

  After turning on the computer, Hannah sat in silence while Sam typed. Thankfully she always left Facebook logged in because there was no way she could have remembered the password or where she’d written it down. She was barely functioning. She even had to keep reminding herself to breathe.

  ‘Right, what about this for a Facebook post, or is it too blunt?’ Sam said, fingers paused above the keypad of Hannah’s laptop. ‘Today my world was shattered when my husband Tristan and parents Daphne and Daniel were killed in a car crash. I will provide further updates and details of funerals when I am able, but until then I will be off Facebook while I try to deal with this tragedy.’

  �
�Um.’ Hannah struggled to focus on what she’d heard and if it was what she wanted to say. ‘Good, I think,’ she said, frowning.

  ‘We don’t have to do this at all, you know. It’s entirely up to you.’

  ‘What do you think? Honestly.’

  ‘I think it’s a good idea. People will soon know about the accident. This way you can tell everyone at once.’

  ‘Okay. But can you say it’s from you on my behalf, though?’

  ‘Got it. I’ll add, “This is Hannah’s friend, Sam” and change it to third person,’ she said, tapping. ‘We’ve got that you’ll be off Facebook, do you want to make that stronger?’

  ‘I can’t bear the thought of talking to anyone, but I can’t really say that, can I?’

  ‘We can say whatever you want. And technically it’s me saying it, not you, remember? So I can be a little blunt. How’s this? “Hannah understands many of you will want to pass on your best wishes personally, but please don’t contact her direct – right now she needs her space. Please be assured she is being taken care of and we will let you know if there’s any way you can help”. How about that?’

  ‘Oh, Sammy, what would I do without you?’ Hannah said.

  ‘That, my darling, you don’t have to think about, because I am right here,’ Sam said, gently stroking Hannah’s hair. ‘Now, before we both collapse, do you think we can manage a group text message? I think it really will help to get it out of the way.’

  ‘Okay. But I can’t bear to look at Tris’s phone. I just can’t.’

  ‘You don’t need to. I think Rob’s already done a message with Tristan’s phone. I hope that’s okay.’

  Hannah nodded.

  ‘There’s a heap of Christmas messages from early this morning. Shall I just group those people and let them know? I’ll just say pretty much what we said for Facebook, okay?’

 

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