by Mandy Baggot
Her pulse quickened and she had to take a breath.
‘Um, Katherine, Freya’s father can’t come to our wedding, but we are going to make sure all of our friends are there to help us make it a special day,’ Nicholas interjected quickly.
‘Why can’t your daddy come?’ Katherine continued. Her sorrowful eyes seemed to be getting larger and more questioning by the second.
‘Well, because…’ Nicholas began.
‘Because he died,’ Freya interrupted.
‘Oh,’ Katherine replied. She seemed satisfied with the answer.
‘Say, that nice man over there is going to take our photo,’ Nicholas said, indicating the photographer hired for the publicity shots.
Freya got up and left Nicholas and Katherine. She went across the ward to Bill Stanton who was talking to one of the nurses on duty.
‘Hey, Bill, tell me. What are Katherine’s chances of recovery?’ She watched Nicholas with Katherine. He had his arms around her, hugging her close.
‘She has acute myeloid leukaemia. She’s already had a bone marrow transplant and extensive chemotherapy.’
‘She’s going to die?’ Bill’s tone had been clear but Freya couldn’t believe it. She didn’t want to believe it.
‘Yes,’ he responded.
‘But she’s only a kid.’ This was so unfair. ‘How long?’
‘It’s likely to be weeks rather than months,’ Bill answered.
She felt sick. She had had countless similar moments at hospitals all over the state, but she still wasn’t immune to the shock when the reality of the situation hit home. There she was, concerned about people knowing her wedding date, when there was an eight year old child losing her fight for life and talking enthusiastically about a wedding she would never grow up to have.
Freya’s eyes glazed over with tears as Nicholas came back to rejoin her.
‘You OK?’ he asked. He put his arm around her, held her close.
‘She only has weeks to live. Weeks, Nick,’ Freya stated. She felt hopeless and helpless.
‘I know.’
‘But it’s horrible and unfair and God, I don’t think I can stomach a lunch after this. I think I want to go home and cry.’
‘Hey, come on, put on a brave face for Katherine and all the other people here. Maybe there’s nothing we can do to save her, but there are hundreds of people we are helping by providing this equipment,’ he reminded her.
‘Nick, when I complain about stuff, I don’t know, like if the post is late or Sadie Fox has cancelled me or someone’s pissed me off driving like an idiot on the motorway. Will you tell me how lucky I am and remind me of this moment?’
‘Sure, you bet.’ He squeezed her hand and kissed her on the cheek.
Eleven
The lunch with the board members of the hospital took longer than anticipated and it was almost three in the afternoon before Freya arrived at her studio.
When she entered the building Sasha appeared, holding out a brown paper bag.
‘Chocolate fudge brownie with real cherry pieces,’ Sasha announced.
‘Oh, Sasha, it sounds fantastic but I’m absolutely stuffed. The dinner was four courses,’ Freya said. She swallowed some rising indigestion.
‘Well, take it for later.’ She shook the bag.
‘OK, thanks. Right, so, shall we get ready to go out? Before I sit in my chair and pass out,’ Freya suggested. She crossed the hall and opened the door to one of the studios.
‘Are you sure you have time? I mean…’ Sasha began.
‘Yes I have time. Don’t you want to go?’ She pulled out some black leather cases and put them in the hallway.
‘Oh no I really want to go, I just don’t want to impose on your time that’s all,’ Sasha told her.
‘Don’t be stupid, Sasha. Get your gear and let’s get out of here.’ Freya smiled, put the bags over her shoulder and walked back towards the door.
It didn’t take long to put all the equipment in the back of Freya’s SUV and soon the two women were on their way out of town.
‘How did the hospital visit go?’ Sasha asked as Freya drove.
‘It was OK. Well, it was sad actually, but then it’s always sad. We met this little girl called Katherine. She’s got leukaemia. She’s only got weeks to live and she’s so small and pretty and sweet. It was heartbreaking,’ Freya admitted.
She hadn’t been able to shake the image of Katherine from her mind. Life was cruel.
‘But it must be heartwarming to know you’ll be saving other lives by donating so much to the Carlton hospital and to the cancer charities,’ Sasha spoke.
‘That’s exactly what Nick said and I know he’s right. But it doesn’t stop it being unjust and terribly sad.’
‘No. So, are you and Nick going to have your photograph in the paper again this week?’
‘Yes, unfortunately. Still, at least on this occasion it’s for a good cause.’
‘I think what you do is amazing. It’s fantastic that someone as busy as Nick takes time out to help other people. It’s so selfless.’ Sasha looked out the window.
‘Yes it is,’ Freya agreed.
It was only a short drive to County Bridge and when they got there Freya parked at the side of the road and jumped out to unload the car.
‘Wow, it’s cold. Glad I brought a jacket. Are they expecting snow?’ Freya asked.
‘I like snow.’
‘To look at, yes. To live with, not so much.’
‘Here, let me help you…I didn’t realise we were going to come here,’ Sasha said, taking a case from Freya.
‘Have you been to this bridge before?’
‘No, I just recognised it from your photographs. Do you know why they’re painted black?’ Sasha put a bag over her shoulder.
‘Well, I’ve heard several stories about that. They range from a mistake when the paint was ordered and no funds to change it, to it representing death and reincarnation.’
‘I heard that the only birds living around here are crows. That can’t be true can it?’
They began to walk across the grassland towards the bridge.
‘Well, I can honestly say they’re the only birds I’ve seen here.’
‘Don’t you think that’s strange?’
‘Maybe, I don’t know. But, what I do know is the combination of the dark bridge with the muddy water, the tall grass and the uninterrupted view of the skyline is just about as perfect as you’re going to get and it’s a great place to practise,’ Freya told her.
They set up the equipment and Freya looked through the camera at the scene in front of her.
‘So, Sasha, why d’you think I’ve chosen this particular camera? It’s one of my Canons, that’s a clue.’
‘Well, maybe because it’s an analogue camera and these scenes will definitely look better using film. Um, it has a seven point wide area auto focus, that should help with getting a good balance between the foreground, the background and the subject of the picture. And, I believe it has manual dioptric adjustment.’
‘Sometimes you really concern me, Sasha. The answer of course is because it has a funky name, Rebel, and because it looks cute. But I suppose your answers were right too. OK, get behind the camera and tell me what you see,’ Freya urged her.
Sasha put her face to the viewfinder and looked through the camera.
‘I would say we need to zoom in a little if we want to make the bridge the centrepiece of the shot,’ Sasha said.
‘OK, that’s one idea. But why don’t you have another look and perhaps you’ll see something that might be a more unusual centrepiece,’ Freya suggested.
‘Oh God, I nearly didn’t see it at all! There’s a tiny boat moored at the edge of the bank. It’s white so it’s a perfect contrast to the bridge.’ The assistant’s excitement was evident.
‘You got it. So, shoot away, I’ve bought plenty of film,’ Freya said. She stepped away from Sasha and took her mobile phone out of her handbag.
She presse
d a key and put it to her ear.
‘Hello,’ Emma answered.
Her friend sounded more exhausted than the last time they had spoken.
‘Hi Em, how you doing? How’s Melly?’ She sat down and made herself comfortable on the grass.
‘Oh hi, Freya. She’s not very well today. She keeps being sick.’
‘Oh no. Have you seen the doctor?’
‘Yes, he hasn’t long left. He thinks she probably has a bug, but she can’t keep anything down. We’re having to make sure she at least has some water at regular intervals. The doctor’s coming back tonight to see how she is.’
‘Oh poor Melly and poor you.’
‘Yeah, I’m exhausted and Yiannis has been up all night too.’
‘Well, I won’t keep you long and feel free to dive off and mop up puke if you need to. Nick and I have set a date for the wedding and I wanted you to be one of the first couple of thousand people to know.’
The knowledge that Sandra McNeill knew the news before the best friend still sickened her.
‘Oh, Freya! How exciting! When? And what do you mean one of the first couple of thousand?’ Emma queried.
‘Well, believe it or not, I told two people and Nick told his brother and somehow Sandra McNeill found out. At this moment the witch is broadcasting it to the entire world. It’s the twenty second of December.’
‘Twenty second of December. Well, that gives you over a year. That’s plenty of time to plan.’
‘Yes, well it would if it were twenty second of December next year.’
‘What? Oh my God! You mean it’s next month?! Are you crazy? You can’t plan a wedding in that amount of time! We planned mine in less than seven months and it was touch and go whether the dress would be ready on time,’ Emma reminded her.
‘Well, we don’t want a big wedding. We just want something small and uncomplicated with just us and the people we care about.’
‘You mean you could afford the most lavish ceremony anyone could think of and you aren’t going to make the most of that?’
‘Em! All that pomp and extravagance just because I can afford it?! You know that isn’t me.’
‘I know you detest wasting money but sometimes a little bit of luxury, particularly for your wedding day, isn’t greed.’
‘We’ve discussed it, neither of us wants that. I can’t imagine anything worse than saying my vows and being drowned out by Channel Nine trying to take photographs from a helicopter.’
She could picture the scene. Sandra McNeill would be harnessed up and hanging out, a notepad in one hand, a voice recorder in the other.
‘So, have you talked about where you might do it? Are you going to get married in church?’
‘I don’t know. Nick got married in church the first time and I don’t know why, but every time I walk into a church I get the feeling I’m going to start spurting ectoplasm or disintegrate if I get splashed by holy water.’
‘You survived my wedding.’
‘I did. But if you remember, I did tell you I had a close encounter with the cross on the altar when I was fruitlessly searching for your flowers. No, I don’t think a church. Apparently, ‘cause we live in Mayleaf we can get married in the town square if we want to.’ Freya turned her attention to Sasha, watching her take the camera off the tripod and move closer to the water.
‘And would you want to?’ Emma asked.
‘Well, it does have the advantage of the protection of the Town Circle. That works like some invisible cyber cordon keeping away anyone who has any connection with the media.’
‘And what are your other options?’
‘Well, Las Vegas if I fancy sharing our big day with a couple of thousand fruit machines and a couple of hundred Elvises. Or should that be Elvi? Is that the plural?’
‘Las Vegas. At one of those tiny little chapels where you get married in seconds and could get divorced even quicker?’
‘What’s good enough for Britney Spears is good enough for me.’
‘Why don’t you get married here?’ Emma suggested.
‘In Corfu?’
‘Why not? You met each other here. You got back together here. Nick proposed to you here. Why not get married here? It doesn’t have to be in the church. You could probably get married at Villa Kamia, right here where I’m standing in the garden.’
There was definite excitement in Emma’s voice.
‘How cold is it there right now? Are you expecting snow?’
‘I don’t think so.’
‘It’s sounding appealing.’
‘Well, I think it’s a great idea and I bet Nick would love it. I mean, you could even stay on and have your honeymoon here. No extravagance because you have the villa already, as little media attention as you’re going to get and you get to meet Melly and see me and Yiannis again.’
‘God, that sounds so tempting.’
‘It would be perfect!’
‘Well let’s hold the thought and I’ll speak to Nick about it tonight.’
She watched Sasha move down the bank, towards the river, then lost sight of her.
‘What did Nick say about Jonny?’ Emma wanted to know.
‘Oh, well I haven’t really had time to talk to him about it. We went to the hospital today because it was the first day the new scanning equipment was going to be used and…’ Freya began.
‘Freya, you have to tell him. You can’t have secrets from each other, particularly now, when you’re planning your marriage. He’ll be hurt if you don’t tell him and he finds out from someone like Sandra McNeill.’
‘I know, I will tell him. I’m going to tell him. I’m going to tell him tonight.’
‘What are you so worried about? What d’you think he’s going to say?’
‘I don’t know. It’s just stepping back into that past life again when I have so moved on. I don’t want it to upset things.’
‘Freya, got to go. Melly’s been sick again. I’ll call you later.’
Freya put her phone away and stood up. She rubbed her cold hands together and went in search of Sasha.
She found her at the edge of the riverbank, the camera trained on the other side.
‘No fishermen today. There are usually a couple of them fishing a little up river about this time,’ Freya remarked.
‘Oh, Freya, you startled me. I was so engrossed in what I was doing.’ Sasha turned around to face her.
‘That’s OK, I get like that a lot. A herd of cattle could come running by and I wouldn’t notice. So, how did you get on?’
‘Well, I’ve nearly finished the roll but I guess we won’t see the result until we get into the dark room.’
‘Right, well shall we take some pictures from on the bridge? You can just about see Riley’s Hill from there,’ Freya said.
She picked up a bag and led the way.
Twelve
That evening Freya decided they were going to attempt the Mayleaf Round Robin. That meant having something at all of Mayleaf’s eateries. Although Mayleaf was a small town it had a Chinese takeaway, a diner, a barbecue restaurant, a hot dog stand near Sam and Jolie’s store and a pizza parlour.
‘We really shouldn’t even be considering this, Freya. We had four courses at lunch time,’ Nicholas reminded her as they walked towards the Chinese takeaway.
The temperature had dropped a good few degrees and the clear, star-filled sky was a sign of a frost to come. At the moment it was actually too cold for snow.
‘I know, but I thought about this. I decided if we have really small, tiny, little portions at each place it would probably be less filling than ordering one huge main course at Casey’s,’ Freya replied.
‘I’m not entirely sure that logic works but I’m willing to give it a go.’ He pushed open the door of the Chinese.
‘Hey, Bruce, how are you?’ Freya greeted the owner of the takeaway.
Bruce stood no more than five feet tall. It meant he had to stand on a box to see over the counter to serve people. He had thinning dar
k hair, a big smile and always had a pencil tucked behind his ear. Freya had never seen him use it.
‘Freya and Nick, good evening to you both.’ Bruce smiled, bowed, then leapt on to his box so he could see them properly.
‘Hi, Bruce, how you doing? How’s Li?’ Nicholas asked. Li was Bruce’s wife.
‘She is fine. In the kitchen, where a good woman should always be,’ he answered with a wry smile.
‘God, Bruce, you really know how to hit the spot don’t you! If I thought you really meant that and if I knew I could get spring rolls like yours somewhere else, I would boycott your place,’ Freya told him.
‘You are lucky man, Nick, lucky man.’ He laughed as he picked up his order book.
‘I know,’ Nicholas replied, looking to Freya.
‘Right, we’ll have a portion of spring rolls and some satay chicken. Oh and some sweet and sour pork and chuck in some prawn crackers,’ Freya ordered.
‘Hey, I thought we were only having small, tiny portions.’
‘We are. I’m ordering breakfast for the next couple of days.’ She grinned.
‘It will be ‘bout fifteen minutes.’
‘Great, we’ll call back,’ Freya said.
‘Call back? Where are we going?’
‘To Sam and Jolie’s to get a bottle of wine to go with our Chinese. I thought we could eat in the gazebo. We’ve wrapped up toasty. It isn’t the four courses under here, I’ve got three layers under this jacket.’
Twenty minutes later they were sat cross-legged in the gazebo in the town square, tucking into the Chinese food and sharing a straw to drink the bottle of white wine they’d bought.
‘You would have thought Sam and Jolie would’ve stocked up on plastic glasses by now. This has to be the fourth or fifth occasion we’ve drunk wine through a straw,’ Freya remarked as she took her turn with the bottle.
‘I’m more surprised you don’t carry some in your bag - along with the two cameras and the Blu Tack.’
‘And didn’t the Blu Tack come in handy when the hem of your trousers unraveled that time.’
‘Bottle please. It’s definitely my turn.’ He held his hand out for the wine.