by Bree Verity
Lydia’s eyes rounded even more. “It’s the same handkerchief,” she breathed.
Penny shook her head. “Unlikely. The stuff from inside the house was all removed before it was converted to the theater.”
“But it could be.” There was a stubborn set to Lydia’s mouth.
Penny shrugged. “I guess there’s an outside chance.”
“So maybe, the theater isn’t haunted, but the handkerchief is.”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake, Lydia. There’s no such thing as ghosts.” Desiree’s voice raised slightly, causing a few other people in the cafe to turn around and look at her. She scowled back at them, and they quickly retreated to their coffees. Penny had to smile. Desiree could be scary if she chose to be.
Lydia’s expression turned thoughtful for a moment. “Maybe we could go in and check it out, Pen? Me and Des.”
Penny gave a half-hearted shake of her head and said, “No, I don’t think so…” even as Desiree said, “That’s a great idea. Then I can prove there’s nothing going on.”
“Guys, I really don’t think you should…”
“And when I do find something, you’ll have to admit that there are ghosts.”
“Awesome. So, I’ll never have to.”
Penny felt a creeping annoyance. Why did her friends never listen to her? “It’s not a good idea, Lydia. Jane wouldn’t like it if I let you creep around backstage when we were trying to rehearse.”
“Then we’ll come in before rehearsals. Or during the break or something. Jane won’t mind.” Lydia clapped her hands together, even as Penny’s stomach dropped. She had no chance of changing Lydia’s mind, now it was made up. Decades of experience had taught her that. Before she could protest further, Desiree changed the subject.
“Anyhow, so tell us, Pen, how’s it going with Marc?” She leered at Penny who blushed.
“Good. It’s going good.” Then, with some asperity, she added, “He doesn’t believe in the ghost either.”
Desiree nodded sagely. “Sounds like a smart man. Have you… you know?” She made a rude gesture involving thrusting her index finger in and out of her other hand, which was shaped into an ‘o’. Penny frowned.
“Don’t be so crude, Des.”
“Oh, so it’s only been this, then.” She moved her ‘o’ shaped hand in front of her face, moving it backward and forward and using her tongue to poke out the side of her cheek in time with her fist. Lydia slapped her. “Desiree. Grow up.”
“What? I’m just trying to get an idea of whether our girl here has gotten any.”
Penny raised one haughty eyebrow. “Like I’d answer you when you ask like that.” But her expression dissolved into a cheeky smile. “But just FYI, I have. Gotten some.”
Lydia gave a little excited squeal. “Yay. It’s about time, Pen.”
“About time?”
Desiree rolled her eyes. “You’ve been going on and on about Marc for ages. Marc did this. Marc said that. Marc is amazing. Blah blah blah.” Then she grinned. “It’s about time you guys finally got together.”
“I have not.” Penny eyed her friends doubtfully. “Have I?”
Lydia nodded. “So much. It’s been really annoying.”
“Well, you talked about Tad all the time when you guys got together,” said Penny defensively. “And you,” she turned to Desiree, “you couldn’t stop telling us about Jack and the kids and how adorable they all were. It’s just my turn, that’s all.”
“And we’re so glad it’s your turn,” replied Lydia warmly. “You deserve someone awesome.”
Penny smiled. “I do, don’t I? And he is. Awesome that is.”
Both Desiree and Lydia beamed at her, before Lydia’s expression turned brusque and businesslike. “Now, back to this ghost.”
Penny and Desiree groaned.
“I wish I’d never told you,” muttered Penny. As Desiree voiced her agreement, a little voice inside Penny’s head said, like you’ve never told them about the abortion?
The thought hit her like a tornado. She hadn’t even had to think about it, yet here it was again, forcing itself into her conscious. She tried to breathe but found she couldn’t. Her heart ratcheted up, and she felt a pain down her side.
Oh crap. This is another freakin’ panic attack.
“Pen? What’s wrong?”
Penny could see the concern in Lydia and Desiree’s faces, but she couldn’t answer them. She couldn’t breathe. She was going to pass out. Her heart was going to explode. She felt her face turn bright red, and her eyes start to water.
“Penny? Talk to us.”
Desiree reached over the table and took Penny’s hand. Her voice held concern, which was so different for her that Penny looked up into her face. “Panic attack,” she managed to croak out.
“What can we do?”
Penny shook her head. There was nothing anyone could do, except wait and watch. She forced herself to take a breath. Then another. The pain receded a little, and Penny noticed the crowd round about her, their expressions ranging from curious to concerned. She caught the eye of one worried woman and smiled. “I’m okay,” she said breathlessly. “A panic attack.” The lady gave her a half-smile and returned to her coffee, as did the rest of the crowd after a few more seconds. Penny took that time to regulate her breathing, to let her heart find its way back to normal.
“Wow, that was awful,” remarked Lydia. “Is that what’s been happening to you lately?”
Penny just nodded. Now that it was over, she felt weak and tired. She picked up her latte and found her hand was shaking. Taking a long sip of the now lukewarm drink, thankful for something to give her a few moments before she needed to talk to her friends about it. Her thudding heart settled, and she let out a big breath.
“I haven’t had one all week,” she said, “after a couple of them last week. I thought they were all done and dusted.” She smiled wryly at her friends. “I guess not.”
They didn’t smile back.
“What caused it?” Desiree’s question felt like an intrusion. Penny tried to work out what she could tell them without spilling the whole story.
“No one really knows what causes them. Something in the brain.” She could see that her dismissive answer wasn’t satisfactory for either of her friends.
“And what is it in your brain?” Desiree asked.
“I’m not sure.” Penny frowned, unhappy about having to lie. “I’m going to a psychologist, though. Hopefully she’ll help.”
Lydia nodded vigorously. “Absolutely. You have to work out what this is. That was just too scary.”
Penny laughed brusquely. “You should have seen it from this side,” she quipped. Then, noticing that her friends were still both staring worriedly at her, she said, “Listen guys, I’m okay. Really. They come, and then they go. They leave me a bit tired, but that’s all. Don’t worry about me.”
“Of course we worry about you,” snapped Desiree. “Don’t be a stupid fuck.”
“What Desiree means, is that we’ll be worrying about you, even if you don’t want us to,” offered Lydia, with a sideways amused glance at Desiree. “We can’t help it.”
“I know,” said Penny, smiling fondly at them both. “And I’m glad. I’m glad I have you guys to worry about me.” She stood up and moved over to the other couch, to squash herself in between Desiree and Lydia, and all three of them hugged each other. “I’ll get to the bottom of this, I promise.”
“You’d better,” growled Desiree. “Otherwise I’ll come around and kick your arse into shape myself.”
Penny laughed, even as her heart again sank. How on earth could she keep such a deep secret from her best friends?
She thought back to her psych visit yesterday. How Dr. Johnson thought she needed to talk to them about it.
For a long moment, as Lydia and Desiree continued to talk around her, Penny tried to find the courage to speak.
But in the end, she stayed silent. As she always did.
She needed to talk
to her parents first.
“Mum? Dad?”
Penny burst through the front door, determined to get it done.
“In the loungeroom, love,” her mother called.
Driving home from Greens, Penny had talked herself into speaking to her parents tonight. She couldn’t go on like this, having random attacks when she least expected them. And if it was going to take conversation with her folks and then with her friends to do it, then that was what Penny was going to do.
She kept up her bravado all the way home, overcoming any quails of anxiety by firmly reminding herself of the embarrassment of the attack she had just suffered in Greens. Better to get this over and done with than subject herself to more of those.
She rounded the corner into the loungeroom.
“Where are Kellie and David?” she asked. Only her parents sat in the loungeroom, their faces bright in the light of the television. They were glued to one of the many reality tv shows that they loved. Some cooking show, this time. Penny found it hard to keep up with them.
“Kellie went to Rachel’s, and I have no idea where Dave is,” her mum replied, not taking her eyes off the television.
Well, that at least was a relief to Penny. Her sister and brother were out - she had her parents all to herself.
But their intense involvement in what they were watching on the television made her resolve faltered a little. Her father looked a little annoyed and before Penny could say anything, he snorted, throwing up one arm in the direction of the TV.
“That Matt character shouldn’t be allowed on television - what an idiot.”
“Now, now, Alan, it’s just a TV show,” countered Penny’s mother, her eyes glued to the set. “He’s probably a lovely man in real life.”
Penny’s dad snorted again and returned to his viewing.
It was now or never. Penny’s heart was in her mouth.
“Mum? Dad? Can I talk to you about something?”
With both of her parents looking at her expectantly, she suddenly felt sick and hoarse.
“Sure Penny. What’s up?” She saw her dad’s gaze flick back to the television.
“Do you mind if we turn the TV off?”
Her mum’s brows shot up. Penny wondered if her mum realised what it was she wanted to talk about. She quickly replied, “Of course,” and flicked the switch, despite the protests from Penny’s dad.
In the newly quiet room, Penny took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “So, I’ve been talking to my psychologist about what might be causing the panic attacks.”
“Good,” murmured her mum.
“And she thinks, well, I think too, we both agreed that I needed to talk to you guys and Des and Lydia about some things.”
She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, before the words rushed out, “I need to talk to you both about the abortion.” She saw her mum make a little jerky movement, as if she was going to get up or say something, but she was silent. Her dad just stared her, directly in the eye. “Go on,” he said softly.
Penny scratched the back of her hair, under her ponytail. “Um, okay. So, first of all, before I say anything else, I need to tell you I’m so grateful to you guys for what you did for me back then. I know I couldn’t have gotten through it all without your support.”
“Of course, Penny,” said her mum. “What else would we do?”
Penny smiled through gritted teeth. “Listen, Mum, I know I said I needed to talk to you, but actually what I need to do is talk at you for a bit. Can you just stay quiet and let me get out what I need to say without interrupting?”
Her mum harrumphed but sat back in her seat. Penny was sure she saw an amused glint in her dad’s eyes.
“I know at the time I immediately said I wanted an abortion, but I… I changed my mind on that almost straight away.” Her mother gasped softly, and her dad’s eyes narrowed. “But by that time everything was happening all around me and I felt like I had no control over anything and so I went ahead with the abortion. I mean, it was probably the best decision at the time. But I wish now that I’d never done it.” She smiled grimly. “I kind of wish you guys had sat me down and talked to me about it more, instead of just taking over. I know it's kind of pointless to say all this in hindsight, and I know you guys did what you thought was right, but yeah, there it is.”
Outside, night noises softened the silence, the chirp of crickets, the last little tweets from the birds just dropping off to sleep. But inside the room, the silence hung, heavy and foreboding.
Penny’s mother covered her mouth with one hand, her eyes filling with tears. Penny reached out to her, only to have her jerk her arm away.
“No. You don’t get to blame me, then try to comfort me.”
“I’m sorry…”
“You don’t get to apologize either. Not after that.”
Penny swallowed, her mind racing about trying to work out what to do. This was supposed to clear things up, not make things worse.
Her dad filled the uncomfortable silence. “You know we would have supported any decision you made, right?”
“I know.” She nodded vigorously toward him.
“Then why didn’t you just tell us?”
Penny’s eyes swiveled to her hands, clasped in her lap. Why hadn’t she told them? What had held her back?
“I guess once things were in motion, and you guys were so busy getting the procedure organized, I thought you thought it was the right thing to do. So, I kept my mouth shut.” She looked back up at her parents, her expression pleading with them to understand.
“You thought we…?” Penny’s mum seemed horrified. She started to breathe fast, anger burning in her eyes that were boring into Penny's. “I loved that child the moment you told us about it. I grieved and grieved that it was taken.”
It was Penny’s turn for tears. How on earth did she respond to that?
“Mum, I didn’t know,” she whispered, but her mother wouldn’t be consoled.
“Of course you didn’t. You were only thinking about yourself. You took that child away from me, and now you tell me you didn’t really want to do it? And it was my fault that you did?”
“Mum, please. I didn’t say I thought it was your fault…”
Her mum hissed, “I can’t even look at you right now.” Before Penny could respond with anything but shocked silence, her mum pulled herself out of her chair and flew out of the room, sobbing as if her heart would break. Her father threw an apologetic glance at Penny before he rushed out to console her.
Penny sat alone in the now way too quiet lounge room, her own tears falling freely. This could not have turned out any worse. She felt as if her guilt was doubled - her parents (or at least her mum) had wanted her to keep the baby. Why didn’t she speak to them when her doubts first surfaced?
Again, her thoughts turned to the little person who would be thirteen by now. Would it have been a boy or a girl? Would they be doing well in school? Have lots of friends? Plans for the future?
Stop it, Penny, she chided herself. You can’t change the past.
But her heart broke, just the same. It didn’t only break for the child. It broke for her parents, whose chance at being grandparents had been snatched away. It broke for her brother and sister, who didn’t even know they could once have been an aunty and uncle.
And it broke for Penny herself, and the impossible choice she had to make at such a tender age.
Once again, the floodgates of her tears were opened, and she sobbed uncontrollably.
Chapter Fifteen
“I’ve missed you,” greeted Marc as he enclosed Penny in his arms. She always smelled so good, he wasn’t sure what it was, just a particular Penny scent that he couldn’t get enough of.
She sighed and snuggled up to his chest. “Me too,” she said. “It’s been a rough couple of days.”
He held her at arm’s length. “How come?” He tried to keep his voice neutral and watched as Penny gave him a tired smile.
“I had another attack y
esterday. At Greens.”
“Shit, Pen.” He hugged her close again. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” she said, her words muffled from talking against his chest. “I’m sick of them, but I’m fine.”
“Did you go to the doctors?”
“Yes.”
“And?”
Penny went quiet in his arms. Marc waited for her to say something, but the silence stretched on. Then she sighed and pulled herself free. “It’s just something I have to work through.” Her smile slipped a little.
“Can I help?”
“Not really, no.” She took his hand. He noticed the enormous bags around her eyes and immediately wondered if she’d slept properly.
“If and when you can, I’ll be right here, asking you. But right now? Just if I have an attack, make sure I don’t make an idiot out of myself, okay?”
“Sure.”
He didn’t like it. Didn’t they promise each other there would be no secrets?
Without another word he stalked out through the wings and on to the stage, his heart racing. What was she not telling him? Why did she need to keep things from him?
He tried to calm his breathing - he was getting overwrought about nothing. Penny would tell him when she was ready.
“No,” he said, and the word reverberated in the gloomy dimness of the stage. “No.”
“What no?” said Chris, strolling on to the stage. “What are you talking about?”
Now, Marc was thankful for the dull blue light, since his blush wouldn’t be able to be seen. “Some of the furniture that should be here isn’t.”
“Then you’d best go look for it, shouldn’t you?”
Marc sidled right up to Chris, getting in his face. “You can be an arsehole sometimes you know. You’re no better than me.”
Chris backed away, palms upward. “Hey, man, I was just kidding around,” he said with a smile. “What’s up with you tonight? You’re pretty highly strung.”
“Nothing,” growled Marc, running a hand through his hair and stalking away.
What the hell was wrong with him? He didn’t lash out at people like that. Not ever. He made his way through the wings, locating the pieces that should be on stage and placing them, letting his racing pulse and his unwelcome anger subside.