Finding Hannah

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Finding Hannah Page 9

by Fiona McCallum


  ‘Now, it’s not too late to change your mind and come with us, you know,’ Adrian said, putting an arm around her shoulder.

  ‘I know, and I really appreciate it, but I feel I need to stay here.’ She shrugged helplessly.

  ‘You have to do what feels right,’ Raelene said.

  Hannah also had a feeling that they were really just being polite and deep down they wanted to say goodbye to their son on their own.

  ‘We know that you’ve got plenty of wonderful people taking care of you,’ Raelene added, ‘but if you decide you want us to come back, you only have to ask.’

  ‘God, I’m going to miss you both so much.’ Hannah’s eyes filled.

  ‘Oh, darling,’ Raelene and Adrian said in unison and they pulled her to them.

  ‘We’ll only be a phone call away if you need us,’ Raelene said. ‘And you’re welcome to join us anytime, wherever we are if you need to get away.’

  ‘Go on, or you’ll miss your flight,’ Hannah croaked, extracting herself and gently pushing them away.

  ‘You will be okay, you know,’ Raelene said for the umpteenth time that week. ‘You’re a lot stronger than you realise – you’ll see.’ She was holding Hannah by the arms and looking at her intently.

  ‘Thank you so much for everything.’

  ‘And thank you,’ Adrian said. ‘It’s been good to spend the time together. If only it weren’t …’

  ‘I know.’

  Adrian hugged her tightly again. They each gave her a final kiss on the forehead and got in the car.

  Hannah stood waving as they drove off, tears running down her face. When they were out of sight she felt completely bereft and lost. Now what?

  ‘I see Raelene and Adrian have just left. Are you all right, dear?’ Hannah looked up to find Beth hurrying across the road.

  ‘I’ll be okay,’ she said, smiling warmly at her dear friend and neighbour. ‘I’m going to keep busy.’ With what, I don’t yet know. ‘Shouldn’t you be packing?’

  ‘All done. I have time for a quick cuppa before I go. I feel terrible leaving you at a time like this.’

  ‘Don’t worry, Auntie Beth. I have Sam and Rob and no doubt you’ve organised a roster of people to drop in and keep an eye on me.’

  Beth had the good grace to look a little sheepish, which made Hannah smile. ‘Just a few. But only until you’re back at work. I’m still not sure that’s a good idea, but only you can know.’

  ‘I’ll see how I go. It might help to get back into a routine and do something that feels a bit more normal. I hope so.’

  ‘Well, remember, take it hour by hour and then when you’re stronger, day by day. Now, come over and have a quick farewell cuppa with me. You can tell me what to take out so I can get my suitcase to close,’ Beth said, linking her arm through Hannah’s and leading her across the street.

  *

  After tearfully seeing Beth off, Hannah slowly walked back across to her house. She stood in the hallway for a moment, taking stock. For the first time since the accident, she was completely alone. It was so quiet. Too quiet. Her heart began to ache again. The ache was there all the time, but sometimes when she was distracted it wasn’t quite so painful. Now she felt like everything within her chest cavity was being wound tighter and tighter, and she found it difficult to breathe.

  Hannah sank to the floor, wrapped her arms around her knees. I want my family back. I don’t want to be a widow or an orphan.

  Finally the sobbing stopped and she struggled to her feet. Feeling sorry for herself wouldn’t help. Raelene was right, she had to keep her mind occupied.

  She went into the laundry where Raelene had left a bundle of sheets and towels they had used. She loaded the washing machine, added detergent, turned it on, and stood listening to the hiss of water for a moment wondering how she could keep herself busy for the next two hours that the machine would take. Then she would have the distraction of hanging the washing on the line to occupy her for ten minutes and then later to bring everything in when it was dry.

  She really should do her own sheets too, but couldn’t bear the thought of giving up the last faint traces of Tristan’s scent.

  Chapter Ten

  Hannah got the fright of her life when she looked up and saw Sam’s face in the window. After taking a few fortifying deep breaths with her hand to her chest, she turned the vacuum cleaner off and went to answer the door.

  ‘God, you scared the shit out of me!’ she said.

  ‘Sorry. I did ring the bell. When you didn’t answer, I was worried,’ Sam said. ‘Golly, you’re keen. Didn’t you only just clean before Christmas?’

  Sam was never shy in saying she put off cleaning until the fluff bunnies turned into tumble weeds and started making their way down the hall. Hannah wasn’t a clean freak by any stretch, but she didn’t have the same level of hatred for the task that her friend did. Sam had often gently ribbed Hannah about being a cardboard cut-out of her mother, Daphne, who kept a spotless house. Hannah didn’t mind the comparison at all, in fact, took it as a compliment. The White house had always been a welcoming home, and Daphne always kept it clean and tidy.

  ‘There are crumbs all over the place from yesterday,’ Hannah said.

  ‘Fair enough. I just came to check on you now Raelene and Adrian have left. Has Beth left for her cruise yet?’

  ‘Yes, an hour or so ago.’

  ‘How are you feeling?’

  ‘I’m fine.’

  ‘You’re allowed to be honest, you know,’ Sam told her. ‘This is me, your best friend, remember?’

  ‘I’m sad – it’s what I am all the time. It was great having them here and I’m really going to miss them. But, you know, I think I’m going to miss Auntie Beth even more.’

  ‘I hope you’re not regretting us talking you out of going with her.’

  ‘No, you were right, I might have got bored and I think I would have felt out of place. At least while I’m at home there are things I can do. And there’d be nothing worse than sitting around feeling gloomy and bursting into tears all the time in public.’

  ‘People understand, you know.’

  ‘Maybe. But it still brings the mood down. And I didn’t want to ruin her holiday,’ said Hannah. ‘It’s her first cruise – she’s probably been saving for it for the last twenty years. I would hate to have put a dampener on it for her – or her friends.’

  ‘You’re always so thoughtful.’

  Hannah shrugged. ‘I really need to start standing on my own two feet, anyway.’

  ‘Sweetie, now is not the time for giving yourself a dose of tough love or being a martyr. It’s only been a week.’

  ‘I’m just trying to get on as best I can.’

  ‘I know, and you’re doing really well,’ Sam said, wrapping her arms around her friend.

  ‘Do you want to come with me while I hang the washing out?’

  ‘Sure, but I really hope you’re not overdoing it,’ Sam said as they went out to the clothesline.

  ‘I’m fine. I’m not sick, just heartbroken, Sammy. Anyway, it’s good to feel a bit useful. I’ve been sitting around being taken care of and waited on all week. So, enough about me. Why aren’t you home getting ready for Bianca’s party?’

  ‘Are you sure you won’t change your mind and come? You can’t stay home on your own on New Year’s Eve.’

  ‘Well, I certainly don’t feel up to partying. And I don’t want to ruin the whole vibe with the black cloud hanging around me. I couldn’t do that to Bianca, especially when she’s finally starting to get it together after being down for so long.’

  ‘Yes, that bloody rat, Alastair. I still can’t believe he ran off with his PA – how bloody clichéd is that! Stupid man!’ said Sam. ‘She’s better off without him. Oh, god, I’m sorry,’ she added, putting her hands over her mouth.

  ‘It’s okay. But, see, you’re already feeling that you have to censor yourself around me. Not that you need to. See how awkward it would be for everyone if I went alon
g tonight?’

  ‘You’re too sweet for your own good. For the record, I don’t think you staying home alone is a good idea, but you have to do what’s right for you. And only you can know what that is.’

  ‘I don’t know about that,’ Hannah said with a tight laugh. She wasn’t sure about anything anymore. Nothing felt right. But she was muddling along the best she could.

  ‘Well, it certainly won’t be the same without you,’ Sam said later as she was leaving. ‘You take good care. And if you change your mind you know where we’ll be. Remember, Hann, there’s no shame in admitting you don’t want to be on your own – not just tonight, any time.’

  ‘I know. Thanks. Now off you go and get your sparkles on,’ she said, giving her friend a quick hug and sending her out before the lump in her throat had a chance to burst.

  *

  Hannah was determined to go to bed feeling exhausted in the hope of getting a full night’s sleep – without the help of medication. She longed for a bone-aching weariness to replace the tiredness of shattered nerves and holding her emotions together that had become a part of her life in the last week.

  She’d remade the spare bed and dusted, vacuumed and scrubbed the bathroom and kitchen like a maniac. It was almost nine o’clock when she took off her rubber gloves and laid them on the drainer of the kitchen sink.

  She forced herself to heat up a portion of casserole – she’d promised Auntie Beth she’d eat regularly. And, anyway, she didn’t like waste. A lot of people had gone to so much effort to cook for her, the least she could do was make herself eat.

  At ten o’clock she took a glass of milk laced with brandy to bed, as had become her habit, and turned on the TV. She’d watch the fireworks and hopefully fall asleep.

  She wondered about seeing a doctor for something – something perhaps not as strong as the pills she’d tried, but better than the over-the-counter tablets that Sam had brought her. She was trying to be careful – those drugs also made her feel sluggish the next day if she took too many. The instructions said to not take them for more than ten days straight. While it had only been a few days, she could see she was at the top of a slippery slope. Even if the substance wasn’t considered addictive, the mere act of using something to help her sleep could be. She’d better be careful with the brandy too. She’d never been a big drinker, but she could see herself becoming addicted to the drink she’d come to enjoy and rely on each evening.

  As if on autopilot, Hannah cleaned her teeth and then slathered moisturiser on. As she did, she thought about all the times she’d stood here at the mirror with Tristan talking to her from the bedroom. As she had done most nights that week, she tried to tell herself to think of it as if Tristan was just away for work, despite the fact they’d only ever spent two nights apart in their five years of marriage. It never worked. She hated having the whole bed to herself and couldn’t imagine getting used to it, didn’t want to get used to it. But she had to start to accept that this was her new normal. With a sigh she snuggled down to watch the early fireworks from around the country. At least the accident would be well and truly old news by now and wouldn’t surprise her on one of the late night bulletins, and maybe the hum of the TV turned low might lull her to sleep.

  *

  Hannah woke with a start. Her heart was racing. She’d had a nightmare. She was on her side of the bed. She rolled over to snuggle up to Tris. And suddenly, like all the other nights since Christmas Day, she remembered there was no Tris. This was her life, reality, not a nightmare. Tristan was gone.

  She dragged herself out to have the wee she now realised she desperately needed. She’d really have to stop with all the tea. And while in the bathroom she reluctantly took one of the antihistamine pills. One good thing about them was that they seemed to stop her dreaming.

  She climbed back into bed, glancing at the clock as she did. It was twelve-thirty. It was the New Year. There was no point hoping this one would be better than the last, it couldn’t get any worse. She rolled onto her side and tried to talk herself into going back to sleep. But then she suddenly realised that without Tristan’s dad there no one had double-checked that the windows and doors were locked. Tris had always done a patrol of the house before bed, as her father had before him. Adrian had done it too, while he’d been staying there over the last week.

  She lay with her eyes open in the darkness, trying to listen for any sounds in the house. She thought it was silent, but the harder she listened, the more noises she thought she heard. She told herself it was the house stretching and yawning, getting settled for the night as the cooler weather came in. But suddenly she was scared. She knew it was silly – no one was there. Still, she wasn’t going out there alone to check. If someone was silently ransacking the house, let them. She hoped they’d take all the remnants of Christmas from the garage so she’d never be faced with it again. She wished she’d asked Rob to take it all to the op shop. And if an axe murderer was making his way carefully up the hall to do her in, even better. She didn’t care.

  Then she started feeling guilty. Tristan and his parents had survived losing Scott. Auntie Beth had survived losing her husband, Elliott. Her parents had suffered the loss of their parents. Plenty of people died and plenty of people who’d loved them coped. She’d just have to learn to as well.

  After tossing and turning for another hour, she turned on the TV again.

  At four Hannah gave up. She must have nodded off, but the gritty feeling in her eyes told her she couldn’t have slept much. Exhausted but too exasperated to try for any more sleep, she threw the covers off and got up. She needed to do something.

  She looked around and her gaze settled on Tristan’s side of the built-in wardrobe covering one wall. That’s what she would do. She made her way down to the kitchen. Even with the lights on it was still scary. Her heart began to race. She knew her fear was irrational, but she couldn’t help it. She grabbed the roll of garbage bags from the drawer, slammed it shut and raced back to the bedroom. She opened the wardrobe door, took a deep breath and began pulling Tristan’s clothes out.

  It was only when she paused to ponder what to actually do with the large pile that she realised the ache she’d almost become accustomed to had turned into a knife, stabbing into her side. And then her brain started up:

  There’s no point keeping his things.

  No, it’s too soon.

  He’s not coming back.

  Someone else could use them.

  Is it too soon?

  What will people think?

  It doesn’t matter what people think, only you know what’s right for you.

  Well I don’t fucking know what’s right for me, do I? It all feels wrong, so so wrong!

  ‘Tristan how can you leave me!’ Hannah cried out, and sat back against the wall and banged hard on her legs until it hurt too much. And then she curled around the clothes and began to cry – large wracking sobs that shook her whole body.

  *

  As if coming out of a trance, she looked around and wondered what had happened. Why was she sitting on the floor surrounded by clothes? Oh, that’s right. She got up. She couldn’t look at the pile now, let alone bag them up. It was too soon. But she had to do something with the clothes. They couldn’t stay there like that. She crawled over and began dragging and stuffing everything into the bottom of the wardrobe. She became frantic, desperate to have them out of sight and the room returned to order. But as a jumbled mass, they wouldn’t all fit. Tears still poured down her wet, burning face. Overwhelmed and angry she slammed the door shut, but it popped open again. She got up and kicked it.

  ‘Ouch!’ she cried, rubbing her foot. She climbed back into bed, but she couldn’t stop looking at the wardrobe. It annoyed her to think of how messy it was in there. She couldn’t leave it like that.

  She got back up and slowly and carefully put each item back in the wardrobe as it had been before – shirts and suits back on hangers, t-shirts, jumpers, socks and jocks all back in their drawers.
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  When she closed the wardrobe door, she was exhausted but felt a little better. And now light was peering from behind the curtains so it was safe to go into the kitchen.

  Hannah leapt up and bounded to the door when she heard the bell.

  ‘God, it’s so good to see you,’ she said to Sam and wrapped her arms around her.

  ‘Happy New Year,’ Sam said.

  ‘Thanks. You too. Hey, you didn’t have to come all this way. You could have just called or texted.’

  ‘I did. Both. I was getting worried.’

  ‘Oh. Sorry. I didn’t hear the phone.’

  ‘Doesn’t matter. We’re off to join the hordes at St Kilda Beach and wondered if you’d like to come along, since it’s going to be a scorcher.’

  ‘Is it? I can’t remember when I last saw a weather report.’ Hannah knew it was last night, but with most things these days, she’d watched but not taken anything in.

  ‘So, do you fancy walking miles from where we finally find a park after driving round and around for half an hour and then wrestling for a towel-sized piece of sand?’

  ‘Oh, you sell it so well,’ Hannah said, smiling.

  ‘What if I said it was the boys who insisted we come by and invite you? It’s true.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Really.’

  ‘Oh, bless them, that’s so sweet.’

  ‘They love you, Hann. And they’re worried about you. As are we,’ Sam said.

  ‘I can’t exactly say no to them, now can I?’

  ‘Welcome to my world,’ Sam said, rolling her eyes. ‘So, are you coming?’

  ‘Okay, count me in. Er,’ she added, looking down at herself and seeing pyjamas. She felt vague, couldn’t quite process how to get herself ready, what she’d need to stuff in a bag. Her brain really was addled these days.

  ‘Put your togs on and then shorts and a top, grab a towel and hat and your handbag, and we’re good to go. We’ve got plenty of sunscreen and snacks.’

 

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