Finding Hannah

by Fiona McCallum

  ‘That’s lovely.’

  ‘It’s so hard to think about the good times. I get sad, though.’

  ‘It will get easier. And it’s much better to be sad remembering the good things than getting frustrated at the what ifs. Now, come on, let’s head out. There’s a fun looking movie just out that I’d like to see and we could go to some shops first. I’d love the company, if you want to join me.’

  *

  ‘Honestly, it really is a gorgeous house just as it is,’ Jasmine said as they hugged goodbye. ‘So don’t get all gung-ho about painting. And if you do get the urge, call me first so I can talk you out of it.’

  Hannah didn’t think she would paint now; Jasmine had pointed out all the pieces of the jigsaw puzzle that she would need to consider – just as Beth had, but more precisely. If she wanted to do it properly – and one of Hannah’s mantras was If it’s worth doing, it’s worth doing well – there was a lot more to a decent makeover than slapping on a coat of paint.

  She could see now how being unsettled in one part of your life – well, her whole life had been torn apart really – could make you want to change other parts that were actually fine as they were. Jasmine was right when she’d said it was all about trying to wrest some sort of control. Thank goodness she had good friends to look out for her and guide her. And she felt she and Jasmine had become firm friends.

  Chapter Nineteen

  ‘Happy birthday!’ Hannah said, opening her front door and wrapping her arms around Sam. It had been a tough day full of reminders of the many times she and her mother had worked together in this very kitchen with these same recipes. But, like everything else that kept cropping up, she’d managed to keep going long enough to put together a decent meal.

  Now seeing Sam’s face, she was pleased with herself for having insisted on carrying on their tradition of cooking for each other on their birthdays.

  ‘Thanks. But, god, Hann, I’m feeling old. And tired.’

  ‘Twins’ll do that. And, yes, it’s too late to send them back.’ It was an ongoing joke between them that hadn’t had a run since Christmas Day.

  ‘I’m so sorry I haven’t been in touch much these last few weeks. After we came back from the holiday, I’ve been in creative mode and you know how I get,’ Sam said.

  ‘You don’t need to apologise. It’s great you’re creating again. Auntie Beth has been keeping an eye on me and I’ve really just been going to work and coming home. Come in.’

  ‘Hi, Hannah, good of you to have us,’ Rob said, pecking her on the cheek. ‘I was going to mow your lawns, but I see they’ve already been done.’

  ‘Oh, that’s very good of you. Have they, though? Gosh, how terrible am I? I haven’t even noticed.’

  ‘I’ll check the back, but the front and the edges have definitely been done recently. Is there anything else I can do while I’m here?’

  ‘You came for dinner, not to be put to work.’

  ‘I don’t mind. Is there something that needs doing?’

  ‘Well, actually, yes, the light under the back verandah blew. I’m still working up the nerve to get out the ladder.’

  ‘Consider it done. Is the ladder in the garage?’

  ‘Yes. There’s a globe on the kitchen bench. I got that far. Thanks so much.’

  ‘No worries. It won’t take long. I’ll be back in a minute.’

  ‘Hi, Auntie Hann,’ Oliver and Ethan said in unison, throwing themselves at Hannah and almost winding her.

  ‘Hello there, my favourite five-year-old twin boys. Sorry I missed your birthdays while you were away.’ Hannah felt a little guilty, but was relieved she hadn’t had to deal with buying gifts and celebrating on top of everything else.

  ‘That’s okay. And we’re the only five-year-old twins you know,’ Ethan said. ‘Mum said.’

  ‘You’ll have to excuse him, Auntie Hann. He’s in a mood,’ Oliver said. Hannah smiled. She loved how grown-up the boys often sounded. They really were old souls and were so good at mimicking adult mannerisms and conversations.

  ‘And why is that, Oliver?’

  ‘Mum wouldn’t let him keep Jasper,’ Oliver said.

  ‘Who’s Jasper?’ Hannah asked.

  ‘A daddy long legs spider he found. He wanted to put it in a jar and keep it. How would Ethan like it if someone did that to him?’ Oliver said.

  ‘They don’t make jars that big, stupido,’ Ethan said, folding his arms.

  ‘I’m sure Jasper is happier roaming free,’ Hannah said.

  ‘See, Ethan. I tried to tell him, Auntie Hann. He wouldn’t listen, as usual.’

  ‘Mum, Oliver’s teasing me,’ Ethan said, and disappeared into the kitchen.

  ‘How are you feeling, Auntie Hann? Are you still really sad for Uncle Tris and Granny Daph and Grandad Dan?’ Oliver asked quietly as he put his hand in Hannah’s.

  ‘I am, sweetie, but I’m really glad to see you. How are you? What have you been up to?’ she asked.

  ‘I’m okay, thanks. I’ve been a bit sad, too. I miss them and Dad said it’s going to take a long time until we’re not sad anymore.’

  ‘I think you’re right, Oliver,’ Hannah said, matching his sage tone. The dear, precious little boy.

  ‘Can I please have a cuddle?’ he asked, holding his arms up.

  ‘Of course you can,’ she said, bending down to pick him up. She drank in his sweet smelling hair and as she did tried to conjure up Tristan’s scent. Nothing. She felt panic begin to surge. She was forgetting everything about him.

  ‘Thank you. That’s enough now,’ Oliver said, squirming out of Hannah’s clutches.

  ‘Can you tell your mum and dad I’ll be there in a minute? There’s something I have to do.’

  ‘Okay.’

  Hannah bolted down the hall and into the bathroom where on the shelf she kept Tristan’s aftershave – along with the bottle of her father’s and one of her mother’s perfumes, which she’d brought back from their villa. She picked it up and sniffed. It smelled nothing like him – all she detected was the original manufactured scent, which had smelt completely different on Tristan’s skin. Her heart sank. She tried her father’s aftershave and then her mother’s perfume. Again, nothing. She had to accept that they were slipping further and further away from her. No matter how hard she tried to hold onto them in her memories, she was losing them. She knew it was part of the process, but had hoped it wouldn’t happen so soon. She was disappointed, but couldn’t say she was surprised.

  She carried the small bottles through to her bedroom and sat down heavily on her bed. Had she ever really been able to remember their individual scents? Probably not. Thankfully her eyes remained dry as she sat staring ahead at nothing in particular.

  ‘Are you okay?’ Hannah looked up to see Sam standing in the doorway.

  ‘I’ve forgotten what they smell like. All of them.’

  ‘Oh, sweetie,’ Sam said, sitting down next to Hannah and putting her arm around her shoulder.

  ‘I’m okay. It just came as a bit of a shock. I don’t know why when it’s part of the process and I knew it would happen.’

  ‘Don’t be so hard on yourself.’

  ‘Oh, Sammy, I wish I could fast-forward to a year from now and have all the firsts over and done with. One day I think I’m doing okay and then, bang, something else crops up and I’m back where I started.’

  ‘Well, for the record, I think you’re doing amazingly well. I’d be a basket case by now – I am a basket case. This is a big thing and, look, you’re not even in tears. You’re getting stronger.’

  ‘But I’m not, though, Sammy. Last week I completely freaked out because I got my period. That’s just plain irrational.’

  ‘Nothing’s irrational when it comes to grief, Hannah. And I can see why, you and Tris were planning on having kids. So getting your period would completely turn you upside down again. Why didn’t you call me?’

  ‘You were away. It was when you were off with the Carringtons.’

  �
��Oh. I’m sorry I wasn’t here for you.’

  ‘Sam, stop apologising. You have your own life. You’re my best friend and I love you, but you’re not responsible for me. You’ve already done so much. Unfortunately, as awful as all this is, apparently it’s my lot in life at the moment.’

  ‘Well, as I said, I think you’re doing incredibly well.’

  ‘Thanks. I don’t feel like it. I feel like I’m barely hanging on.’

  ‘I know it doesn’t help, but I am sure it will get easier.’

  ‘I hope you’re right. And, yeah, it doesn’t help,’ Hannah said, forcing out a tight smile before hugging her friend. The truth was, Hannah feared the sadness that was consuming her would be with her forever. And a part of her hoped she would always feel this way because if she didn’t, would it mean that she’d left her loved ones behind too easily?

  ‘Should I take Rob and the boys home? It’s fine if you’d rather not have guests after all.’

  ‘No way! I’ve made you a chocolate sponge with lots of whipped cream and strawberries.’

  ‘Goody.’

  ‘Though it might be a wee bit salty – there are quite a few tears in the mix as well,’ she said with a grin.

  ‘I’m sure it’ll be perfect. Shall we get this first milestone out of the way then?’ Sam said with a gentle smile. She stood and offered a hand to Hannah.

  ‘Yes, let’s.’

  ‘Just be kind to yourself, sweetie, and don’t rush it,’ Sam said as they made their way back down the hall.

  ‘I hope you boys are hungry for lasagne,’ Hannah called as she walked into the kitchen.

  ‘Are we ever!’ Oliver declared.

  ‘Yes please,’ said Ethan. Hannah smiled at seeing them sitting beside each other companionably, their earlier disagreement clearly forgotten.

  ‘But make sure you save room for chocolate cake,’ Sam warned.

  ‘Yum,’ Oliver said.

  ‘Yes, we love your food, Auntie Hannah,’ Ethan said.

  ‘Gee, thanks a lot. You can’t be mean to me, it’s my birthday,’ Sam said, pouting.

  ‘Sorry,’ Oliver and Ethan said quietly one after the other, suitably contrite.

  ‘Speaking of being the birthday girl,’ Hannah said, pulling the gift-wrapped artwork from where it was resting beside the end of the bench and handing it to Sam.

  ‘But we don’t do birthday presents,’ Sam said. ‘We’ve never done birthday presents.’

  ‘Well, call it a thank-you-for-everything-and-being-my-best-friend present, then, if it makes you feel better. I saw it and couldn’t resist. But if you don’t want it …’

  ‘Of course I want it,’ Sam said, reaching out, grinning. She read the card with tears in her eyes and hugged Hannah.

  ‘Don’t go getting all mopey – just open it!’ Hannah said.

  Sam tore off the wrapping and stared at the framed piece of art.

  ‘Oh, wow, I love it. Rob, look.’

  ‘That’d be right,’ Rob said.

  ‘What?’ Hannah asked.

  ‘The one time she can tell me exactly what she wants for her birthday and you go and get in first,’ he said, laughing.

  ‘Sorry.’

  ‘How did you know which one I really loved out of all of them?’

  ‘Well, it wasn’t hard, it was the one you stood in front of for the longest. You were practically drooling.’

  ‘Ew, gross. Ethan does that when he sleeps in the car,’ Oliver said.

  ‘I do not.’

  ‘Do too.’

  ‘Enough, you two,’ Rob said.

  ‘Right, sounds like we all need some food,’ Hannah said. ‘Thanks so much for doing the light.’

  ‘No problem at all. I’ll do the smoke detectors when daylight saving ends. If you think of anything else, let me know.’

  ‘You’re a gem.’

  ‘Thanks again, Hann, it’s gorgeous,’ Sam said, putting her arm around Hannah while they were at the oven retrieving the garlic bread and lasagne. ‘But you really shouldn’t have.’

  ‘I should have given it to you on a random day, but I couldn’t keep it to myself any longer. So, I don’t want you thinking for a second I want us to start giving presents after all these years. But I saw how much you liked it and I saw it as an opportunity to say thanks for everything. And if I’ve learned one thing this year, it’s not to put things off.’

  Chapter Twenty

  By April, Hannah was growing used to the renewed sadness and setbacks that accompanied major milestones such as birthdays and other anniversaries. She’d made some progress, though. One big step forward was mowing her own lawns and trimming the edges. Rob had come over to show her how to fill the lawn mower and whipper snipper with fuel and to get them started. At first she’d found it all quite terrifying, but when she got used to it, she felt empowered. Once she’d mastered the basics of the gardening she’d gone around to her nearest neighbours to try to talk them out of taking such good care of her. They had been wonderful to step in and look after her garden for so long – especially when most of them were her parents’ age – but she was now mentally strong enough and physically able to do it herself. She had felt great saying, ‘Thank you, but I can do my own lawns and edges now.’ She’d taken along baskets of muffins and cakes she’d made and gave them vouchers to the movies, but there was no way she’d ever be able to adequately express her appreciation.

  She was even starting to feel more at ease with being alone, helped by Jasmine over regular lunches while Craig played golf. Her friend gave her pep talks about all the things she’d enjoyed when she was single. As she listened, Hannah wondered if Jasmine was missing single life a little too much.

  Hannah had wrapped up Tristan’s and her parents’ estates a couple of weeks ago. She’d even taken on most of the paperwork under the guidance of the family solicitor, with some help from the financial adviser. It had kept her busy and her mind occupied for months, and now she almost missed it. While it had been confronting, she’d managed to approach it academically and work her way through each step. Thankfully she and Tristan had been completely open with their passwords, bank accounts, and other personal details. That had certainly made the process much easier. More than once she’d sat shaking her head and marvelling at how much harder it would be to navigate without having the list of passwords that had been attached to his will. Thank goodness for an on-the-ball solicitor, and a husband and parents who were conservative and sensible with their finances.

  For a thirty-something, she’d ended up quite wealthy. If she was really smart with her money, she might never have to work full-time again. Though she loved her job and the thought of all those extra hours by herself was still quite terrifying. She was stalling discussing her own situation with the financial adviser. While he’d been helpful and seemed nice enough from the few dealings she’d had, and had had the good grace not to do a sales pitch to her, she felt uncomfortable about her windfall. It had been hard enough discussing Tristan’s and her parents’ finances with a stranger.

  It had come as a bit of a shock to Hannah to learn that her parents had been well-off. Of course she knew she was born into the lower end of middle class. After all, she lived in a decent suburb not far from the city, but only her father had worked and as far as she’d seen he hadn’t progressed beyond middle-management. If only they were here for her to say how proud she was of them. But of course, she wouldn’t even if they were still alive.

  Hannah hadn’t told anyone exactly how much she’d ended up with. She was still struggling to come to terms with the figures involved and the circumstances. She’d paid off the mortgage and put the rest of the money in the highest interest account she could find while she gathered the necessary courage to book in to see the financial adviser or one of the others recommended by friends. Rob and Sam and Raelene and Adrian had all echoed Beth’s sentiments about taking care of her own financial needs first and not making any life-changing decisions – financial or otherwise – for at least
twelve months.

  Her parents had raised her to be careful with money and she’d married a man with the same values. She’d never be a reckless spender. The only things she’d bought that she’d consider to be big-ticket items were a new electric mower and whipper snipper so she didn’t have to deal with the smelly fuel anymore and so much noise. She was secretly a little proud of herself for going off to the shop alone and making her purchases. It was probably run of the mill for most people, but not Hannah, who had come to realise what a sheltered life she’d led – and in some ways would continue to lead thanks to the financial legacy.

  But with all the milestones she’d faced and pushed on through, one stopped her in her tracks.

  It was Saturday morning and she was just finishing breakfast when her phone rang with an unfamiliar number on the display.

  ‘Hello, Hannah speaking,’ she said.

  ‘Is that Mrs Hannah Ainsley, wife of Tristan Ainsley and daughter of Daniel and Daphne White?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘This is Constable Smith at Brunswick Police Station. I have available for collection the belongings that were in the car, your, um, relatives were travelling in, when it, um, crashed. The investigation has now been completed.’

  ‘Oh. Right.’

  ‘Please come to the reception desk and talk to the officer on duty. You’ll need identification. There are two boxes for collection.’ The policeman seemed to let out a relieved sigh. She felt for him. He was probably the most junior on that day and had drawn the short straw.

  ‘Okay. Thank you.’

  ‘After fourteen days they’ll be sent down to lost property and you’ll have to …’

  ‘It’s all right. I’ll come and get them now.’

  Hannah’s heart began to race. She hadn’t heard anything about the investigation. Tristan’s parents had agreed to be the go-between with police, and she’d made it clear to them she didn’t want to know any of the details. Like Raelene and Adrian had said – and pretty much everyone, except Sam who admitted to being nosey by nature – whatever she found out wouldn’t bring them back from the dead, so there was no point knowing. Hannah had quickly formed the same view. It was odd that the constable had called her to collect the things. Perhaps it was because Raelene and Adrian were interstate. Perhaps it was a case of two departments in the police service not communicating with each other. But it didn’t really matter, did it? The fact was she’d received the call.