‘Hmm. Maybe you’re right.’
‘Try not to take it personally if a few people who you thought were good friends drop by the wayside. A lot of people don’t know what to say to the bereaved and find it easier to avoid talking to them at all. They’ll come back if they’re meant to.’
‘You’re so wise.’
‘Well, I don’t know about that. So, what else have you been up to?’
‘Working – that’s been good. And I’ve managed to cook a few meals.’
‘Oh, you’re making great progress. I’m so proud of you.’
‘Tristan and I always did the shopping together and now I can’t seem to reprogram myself. You don’t eat Nutella, do you?’
‘No. Why?’
‘Tristan loved it and I keep buying it. I think it’s horrible. I even tried eating it to feel closer to him, how silly is that?’
‘It doesn’t sound silly at all,’ Beth said kindly. ‘I did the same with Elliot’s sardines. I developed quite a taste for them for a while, trying to hold on. Can’t stand them again now.’
‘I can feel him slipping away, Auntie Beth. I’m forgetting everything. I can’t remember the exact shade of his eyes or how he ran his hands through his hair when it was getting too long. He had a particular way and I loved watching him do that. I’ve tried, but I just can’t picture it any more.’
‘For me, some memories faded, but others came back stronger and stayed. Just try not to let it upset you.’
‘I hate it, Auntie Beth, grief. It’s the most unpredictable, chaotic thing I’ve ever had to deal with,’ Hannah said. ‘If it was simply a case of nutting it out or being organised – like setting up a new filing system – I’d be set. That’s what I had thought people meant when they said the grief process was different for everyone.’ But it wasn’t like that at all, Hannah now realised. On top of everything else, she was having to face up to the fact that no amount of to-do lists in the world could help her deal with this – most of it was heart related and her heart was shattered.
‘That it is, dear.’
‘The other day I even found myself bargaining with God, and I’m not even remotely religious! As if some fictitious, mystical dude with a beard and a stack of old-fashioned ways of doing things was ever going to bring them back. Gah! I’m losing my mind.’
‘It’s quite natural to start searching for answers,’ said Beth, ‘questioning everything you believed in.’
‘It’s all so confusing. And hard.’
‘Unfortunately what you’re experiencing is not something you can logically and methodically work your way through, no matter how much you try,’ Beth said, as if reading her mind. ‘I wish it was like that, but it’s not.’
‘Never a truer word spoken, as Mum would have said.’
‘Except, perhaps dealing with the paperwork and legalities,’ Beth added thoughtfully. ‘How are you getting on with the legal side of things?’
‘I’ve tended to leave it all to the solicitor. He’s been great, as has Mum and Dad’s financial planner. I know it’ll cost more, but I just can’t seem to concentrate well enough to work out the serious stuff like that.’
‘Yes, that is understandable.’
They sipped their teas in silence, lost in their own thoughts.
‘Hey, Auntie Beth?’ Hannah asked after a few moments.
‘Yes, dear.’
‘I’ve been left quite a lot of money. I feel weird, um, guilty, maybe. Do you think I should donate some to charity? And which ones?’
‘Well, you did request donations to the organ donation place in lieu of flowers for the funeral.’
‘That was what Adrian, Raelene and I decided, not because of anything in a will.’
‘Oh. Right.’
‘Their organs couldn’t be donated because they were trapped in the car so long, so …’
‘I see. Well, I think that was a lovely gesture.’
‘But is it enough? And please don’t say it’s up to me.’
‘But it is, dear, if everything has been left to you and there aren’t any specific instructions. Your parents were generous people, but I don’t remember them being big on any particular charity recently.’
‘I didn’t find any monthly withdrawals from their bank account that looked like it was going to a charity. They always gave a note to anyone rattling a tin they came across.’
‘They were certainly generous.’
‘Yes, which is why I feel I …’ Hannah gave up. She didn’t know what she felt, except guilty when it came to all the money.
‘Darling, I think it’s too soon for you to be thinking about this. And being left well provided for is not something you should feel guilty about. Your parents made that decision. That was their wish. And they raised you to be sensible with money, not to go handing it out willy nilly.’
‘I guess.’
‘If you want to make a donation down the track, then do so, but for now I think you need to concentrate on putting yourself and your needs first. You’re young. You don’t want to give it all away and then have something happen and find yourself short down the track. Sit tight for now, sweetheart,’ she said, smiling. ‘I think we’re all still in shock. Just let the dust settle a bit.’
‘What would I do without you?’
‘And that’s not something you need to worry about either. I’m as fit as a flea and not going anywhere. But I am hungry. So, we’re going to order in a pizza and make pigs of ourselves.’
‘That sounds perfect.’
Chapter Seventeen
‘You can’t use that excuse forever – that you’ll drag the mood down. Anyway, you won’t. Not that you ever would have – you’ve been amazing,’ Caitlin said, becoming a little flustered.
If that’s what you call managing to not have a bout of tears for three days, then, yes, I’ve been amazing, Hannah thought. The last episode had been the evening after a barbeque out in the park with friends to celebrate Australia Day. It had been her first true social outing since the funeral and without Sam. She’d managed to hold her emotions in and do a decent acting job, and had even enjoyed the day out with the large group of friends and friends of friends.
Quite a few who’d gone along were single so Hannah didn’t have the feeling that she was a third wheel as she might have had in a more formal dinner-party situation. That’s why she’d gone, really. And it had almost helped not to have Sam and Rob there to use as a crutch; she had to make conversation and fend for herself.
Going to the barbeque had made Hannah realise how much she was missing out on by declining invitations, and that people didn’t seem to be dwelling on her situation as much as she’d thought they might be.
But while she had been all right at the time, it was still so hard to go out without Tristan by her side.
Hannah knew that telling Caitlin why she’d decided not to go out with the others would come back to haunt her. But it had been necessary. Oh well, at least this conversation was just between the two of them, quietly standing at the sink in the office kitchen. She really hoped Caitlin wouldn’t tell anyone else. She was quite a bit younger than Hannah and while she had her silly moments, Caitlin was generally thoughtful and level headed. Although, what did it matter if people knew the truth?
‘So, you’re coming, aren’t you? You have to, everyone is.’
‘Um, well, I …’
As Hannah focussed on stacking the dishwasher and avoided looking at Caitlin, she searched her mind for another excuse. It was the last Friday of the month and the office had a tradition that the whole floor headed out together to celebrate any birthdays that had occurred during that month.
The only people who didn’t get shamed for not attending were those with a very good excuse – like a visit from their mother-in-law or that they had to go home to their kids. Though it seemed to Hannah that the people with children were often the keenest to lead the charge to the bar.
‘Maybe a night out with friends is just what you need,’
Caitlin prompted. ‘Better than going home and being on your own. Come on, you know I’m right and you know you want to.’
‘You’re not going to give up, are you?’ Hannah said with a laugh.
‘Nope,’ Caitlin said, and laughed too.
‘All right, count me in,’ she said. It’ll be fun. And no doubt they’ve practically forgotten what happened to me on Christmas Day.
Thanks to so many years observing office gossip, Hannah understood how quickly her colleagues moved on to new subjects to talk about. And, as Caitlin had rightly pointed out, Hannah hadn’t given them any signs to stop them moving on; no puffy eyes or tissues dabbing at tears.
‘Come on, you two, we’re off,’ someone called and Hannah and Caitlin headed off in different directions to collect their things.
As they waited in the ground-floor foyer for the whole team to congregate, Hannah smiled and thought, not for the first time, how nice it was to be part of such a warm, loving group. Work was probably the only thing that had kept her sane these past weeks. If she didn’t have that, she doubted she’d have found the energy and inclination to get out of bed at all.
Craig led the group along the street and up one of Melbourne’s many laneways to a favourite haunt.
There were so many great venues near their office that they went to a different one each month, with those whose birthdays it was that month choosing between themselves. Other times, the one who suggested drinks tended to pick their current favourite. Tonight’s choice was a moody bar with karaoke. While Hannah was determined to be sociable and enjoy herself, she was equally determined to be gone before the karaoke started.
As usual, the first round of beers and bottle of champagne – well, technically sparkling white – was on the very generous company they worked for. Seated around a few tables pulled together, they all hooted and cheered when Craig, accompanied by one of the bar staff, appeared with trays of bottles and glasses and bags of chips.
‘Don’t worry, folks, I’ve ordered some proper food as well,’ Craig said.
The only alcohol Hannah had drunk in the past three weeks had been brandy in milk, which she’d upped from a dash to what was probably more like a double-shot – if she’d bothered to measure it. Quite often she had considered cracking open a bottle of white or red, but the words of Sam, who she trusted implicitly, warning that alcohol would only make things worse and that drinking alone was a no-no, always stopped her. She didn’t need to feel any worse.
She accepted a glass of sparkling white wine and took a tentative sip. It was not the best she’d ever had, but certainly far from the worst. She took a deep slug. Hmm, not bad, not bad at all, she thought.
It took two decent swigs and about three minutes for Hannah to feel the warm glow and slightly numbing effects of the alcohol start to make its way through her.
Without thinking, she accepted a second glass, raised it and joined in with the jovial cry of ‘Cheers’ that ran around the tables.
It seemed like just minutes had passed and now the music was pumping, the bar had filled with crowds of office workers, and Caitlin was leading Hannah onto the small dance area.
A couple of times she felt so free she forgot herself and turned to look for Tristan among those still seated at the tables clapping and cheering. But she refused to be melancholy tonight. She managed to shake it off and keep dancing. She and Tristan had gone out separately to plenty of work functions so it wasn’t too unusual that he mightn’t be here. Of course, being more than a wee bit tipsy helped – she’d always been a happy drunk.
Suddenly the karaoke was being set up. In the interests of being sociable, Hannah decided she’d stay. Caitlin and her friend Chloe were always first up. Tonight Hannah thought she might even join them. She was enjoying feeling normal again and having too much fun to leave now.
For the first time in ages Hannah felt a part of things, really a part. And happy, genuinely happy, not just putting on an act for the comfort of the people around her.
She was shocked to notice as the strobe light flashed past that her watch read nine o’clock. No wonder she was feeling like she was. She’d guzzled too much too quickly. But, it had gone down so well. And no harm done. How many glasses had she had? Two or three? She couldn’t remember. She’d better slow down. She’d had some of the chips, but that was hardly enough to be a decent sponge for the alcohol. Hopefully the bowls of wedges and sour cream and sweet chilli sauce or serves of pita bread and dips, which they usually ordered, would arrive soon. Her stomach grumbled in anticipation.
Next thing she knew, Hannah was being dragged onto the tiny stage by Caitlin and Chloe. There was barely enough room for the three of them, but despite Hannah’s protests she joined them in an almost passable rendition of John Farnham’s ‘Pressure Down’.
Hannah felt exhilarated as they bowed to the enthusiastic crowd and stepped down to re-join their group. She would have been happy to stay up there and do another song, but not on her own. And Caitlin and Chloe said they needed a drink.
‘That was awesome, you girls,’ someone at the table said and everyone uttered agreement and another round of cheers.
Hannah’s head was spinning when she sat down and picked up her glass again, which was half-full, room temperature, and no longer contained any bubbles. She really needed some water. And a wee. Hopefully when she got back some food will have arrived. As she stood up her legs felt weak and her stomach cramped.
‘Where’s the food?’ someone called. ‘I’m starving!’
‘Me too,’ Hannah chimed in with everyone else as she made her way from the table.
Inside the cubicle away from the noise and energy of the room, she pulled down her knickers and sat heavily on the toilet. Her head began to spin so she closed her eyes. But that made the vertigo so much worse and her whole body began to wobble. She opened her eyes and in order to steady herself she turned her gaze down to concentrate on the white tiles beneath her feet. But as she did, she noticed a dark red patch on her undies. Slowly she felt her soul constrict, the ball of ache reform in her chest and part of it break off and rise into her throat.
And then, without warning, something else inside her broke. A torrent of tears gushed down her cheeks, the likes of which she’d never experienced before and didn’t know she had in her.
She leant forward and clutched her knees. But finding no comfort, pulled up her undies to hide the evidence. She felt herself sliding to the floor and couldn’t do anything about it – didn’t even want to. It was filthy, streaked with grime and goodness only knew what germs, but she didn’t care – she just wanted to curl up and die. This was like losing Tristan all over again, maybe even worse because now she knew for certain she had no small living, breathing piece of him to hold onto into the future. She sobbed. What she wanted to do was wail, scream, and get angry. But it was sadness and disappointment that consumed her. And it was quiet. She gasped as the tiny pieces of her already shattered heart broke and the razor-sharp shards pierced her torn and broken soul – the soul that might have been starting to heal a little.
‘Hannah, are you in here?’ She heard Caitlin’s voice. She didn’t want attention. She wanted to be left alone.
‘Yes. I’m fine.’ Well, that’s what she tried to say. But it came out more as a strangled gasp.
‘Oh my god, have you had a fall? Are you okay?’
Suddenly Caitlin was on her knees and peering under the gap of the door. Something in Hannah came together and she registered just how embarrassing this scene was. She needed to get out of here. She tried to stand up, but couldn’t get a grip on the tiles. She gasped as her elbow hit the hard floor.
‘Hang on, I’m going to get some help.’
Hannah wanted to protest, but couldn’t muster the energy for that either. If only she could just be left on her own. If only she’d been home and not out in a bar.
‘Hann, it’s Craig, what’s going on?’
‘She’s only had a couple of drinks,’ she heard Caitlin
say. ‘Something else must have happened.’
‘I need you to move away from the door. I’m going to use a coin to open it. Okay?’
‘Should I call an ambulance?’ Caitlin said. ‘Or maybe the fire brigade?’
‘Just wait a sec and let’s see what’s going on first.’
Hannah wanted to help them, but couldn’t make herself care enough to move. All she could think was she’d just lost everything all over again, and this time it felt a million times worse.
She began sobbing again when Caitlin’s hand appeared under the divider from the next cubicle.
‘Squeeze my hand,’ Caitlin commanded.
Hannah squeezed.
There was a rattle and she looked up to see Craig’s face peering at her in the gap of the partially open door. If she wasn’t so upset she might have been mortified.
Hannah had no idea how he managed it, but Craig eased himself into the cubicle with her. He sat, his long legs folded in two on the other side of the toilet.
‘You’re not just drunk and disorderly, are you?’ Now he could see she wasn’t injured, he was trying to make light of the situation a little.
‘I got my period,’ Hannah whimpered. She knew she sounded pathetic. She was being pathetic.
‘Oh. Right,’ he said, a perplexed, slightly embarrassed look on his face.
How could anyone know the significance of what this means? Hannah thought. She was taken completely by surprise herself – it certainly wasn’t rational.
Caitlin said, ‘I’ll get your bag,’ gave Hannah’s hand an extra squeeze and disappeared. She then heard the main door opening and closing.
‘Tristan and I had been trying to have a baby,’ she said.
‘Ahh,’ Craig said, nodding his head slowly. She accepted the checked handkerchief he held out and dabbed uselessly at her streaming face and dripping nose.
Gradually Hannah felt herself coming out of her stupor. She sat up and looked around as if seeing her surroundings for the first time. God, how embarrassing! She frowned and suddenly thought she couldn’t remember coming in here. Everything was hazy. Her head now hummed.
Finding Hannah Page 16