Lost Without You

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Lost Without You Page 21

by Rachael Johns


  It was from Clara: Really sorry but something’s come up and I can’t see you this afternoon.

  Josie stared down at the message—she hoped Clara was okay as it seemed unusual for her to cancel at such short notice, but maybe this was a sign? She’d been feeling a lot better these last couple of weeks. Of course she was still heartbroken but Clara’s advice to take proper time out with Nik and to do things to make herself and others happy appeared to be doing the trick. Since making a conscious decision to focus on other things aside from her grief, she’d found it easier to get up each morning and she’d handed out a lot fewer detentions at school.

  If it weren’t for Clara, she’d probably have outright refused when Nik told her about the dress and then she’d never have met Paige. Today, she was so happy that she’d feel a bit of a fraud taking up Clara’s time anyway.

  But the thought of ending her sessions made her a little sad. She enjoyed her time with Clara—it wasn’t only that the other woman provided a safe space for her to talk freely about her grief, but she also really liked her.

  Oh well, she didn’t have to make any drastic decisions right away. Instead, since she now had a free afternoon, she decided to make a special surprise romantic dinner for Nik. Josie smiled at the thought as she collected her things from her locker in the staffroom and headed for her car.

  Fifteen minutes later, she was perusing the gourmet shelves at the local supermarket as she contemplated whether to make beef wellingtons or a rack of lamb with a herb crust when a woman came around the corner and their trolleys collided.

  ‘I’m so sorry.’ The words were out of Josie’s mouth before she registered she knew this woman. ‘Clara?’

  Her usually sleek golden bob was tied back in a ponytail, bits of hair were falling out onto her face and she was wearing a tracksuit.

  ‘Josie. Fancy running into you here.’ Clara turned red as if she’d been caught doing something illegal. ‘I’m so sorry to have cancelled our session at such short notice.’

  ‘It’s not a problem.’ Josie smiled, wanting to put her at ease. ‘I’m feeling really good today. I’ve made a new friend and she came to school and spoke to my students about picture books this afternoon.’

  ‘Oh, that’s nice. How did you meet?’

  ‘It’s a funny story actually. About a week ago, Nik came home all excited about something he’d seen on Facebook. There was this woman on there looking for her mother’s wedding dress.’ She went on to tell Clara the whole story about her gown. ‘Turns out the dress was the one this girl was looking for.’

  ‘Hmm … That’s understandable.’ Clara nodded and Josie frowned, recognising that the other woman wasn’t really listening, but simply making what she hoped were the right kind of noises. She felt as if she could tell Clara she’d signed up for that one-way trip to Mars and the other woman would nod politely and say ‘how lovely’.

  Although Clara didn’t have to listen to Josie right now, this distracted behaviour seemed very out of character. Something was bothering her.

  Josie reached out to touch the other woman’s arm. ‘Clara, tell me to mind my own business if you want but … are you okay?’

  Clara blinked rapidly, her cheeks flushed darker and she put her hand to her neck. ‘I’m f—’

  Josie guessed she was about to say ‘fine’ but the word died on her tongue and instead Clara pursed her lips tightly together and squeezed her eyes shut as if trying not to cry.

  The tables suddenly turned, Josie dug into her handbag for the packet of tissues she now carried around permanently.

  ‘Here.’ She offered them to Clara with a gentle smile as a woman with two young children looked suspiciously at them as she took a wide berth.

  Clara took one look at the packet and burst into tears. ‘Oh God. I’m so sorry,’ she said, snatching a tissue and dabbing at her eyes. ‘This is so unprofessional of me.’

  ‘It’s okay. Talking to you has helped me immensely so if you think it’d help you to talk about whatever’s bothering you, then I’m more than happy to listen. We could go get a coffee at the café on the corner?’

  Clara looked torn between accepting and rejecting the offer and Josie guessed it was because she didn’t want to get into trouble with the charity. But she couldn’t care less about any rules and protocol that might exist; no way was she going to walk away from Clara in such a state.

  ‘Come on.’ She nodded towards the supermarket’s entrance. ‘I haven’t had a good coffee since this morning. We can leave our trolleys here and come back later.’

  Clara sighed. ‘Okay, if you’re sure you have time.’

  ‘All the time in the world,’ Josie said; Nik loved her homemade spaghetti sauce, she already had the ingredients for that and it didn’t take long to make.

  ‘You’re such a sweet girl,’ Clara said, a few minutes later when they had ordered their drinks (and some chocolate cake) and were sitting in a corner table at the café. ‘I don’t want to burden you but I guess I owe you an explanation.’

  She didn’t owe Josie anything, but Josie didn’t say this, understanding Clara needed this excuse to justify opening up.

  ‘As you know, I’m divorced.’

  Josie nodded.

  ‘Well, I’ve recently started seeing someone, a wonderful man.’ Clara’s eyes lit up a moment, but the joy vanished as quickly as it had come. ‘But Rob, my ex, is an alcoholic, and he’s never been able to accept we live separate lives now.’

  Josie was not surprised by this statement—the man she’d met hadn’t looked exactly healthy and she remembered Clara seeming unsurprised that they’d met outside a pub.

  ‘A few weeks ago Rob turned up and there was an altercation. It was awful, he tried to punch Gregg.’ Her face went pale at the recollection. ‘Once again I told him it was over, and Gregg sent him on his way. As he left, I hoped and prayed I’d never see him again. I’ve been having such a great time with Gregg the last few weeks—I’ve felt happier than I have in a long time. I hadn’t heard anything from Rob, so I dared to hope that maybe he might finally have got the message. Gregg and I have even made plans to go away on a cruise together, but …’

  Clara paused, sniffed and wiped her nose.

  ‘A few days ago, I got a call from Rob’s mother. She was in hospital with a broken ankle and needed some things brought in to her.’

  ‘Ah, and I’m guessing you ran into Rob again?’

  ‘No.’ Clara shook her head. ‘That’s just it. Rob, it seems, has gone missing.’

  ‘Missing?’ Josie’s head jerked back at this surprising declaration and a waiter chose that inconvenient moment to bring over their order.

  ‘I’ve given you two spoons to share this delicious cake,’ he said with a grin as he put the cake and their coffees on the table. ‘Enjoy, ladies.’

  ‘Thank you,’ they said in unison, sounding like a recorded message.

  ‘What do you mean, missing?’ Josie asked the moment the waiter retreated. Neither of them made a move towards the food or drink.

  ‘He’s vanished. The police have listed him as missing but they’re not really doing much to try and find him and …’ She sighed heavily again. ‘Because he’s not available to help Brenda—not that he’d be much use anyway—the task has fallen to me. Gregg and I went to her house and it was in such a state, mess everywhere, dirty dishes growing mould. I couldn’t leave it like that, so I’ve spent the past few days cleaning it up for her.’

  That explained the tracksuit and the dirty marks covering it.

  ‘I just came to get some supplies to stock her fridge.’

  ‘That’s kind of you,’ Josie said.

  Clara snorted. ‘I don’t feel kind. I feel resentful. Don’t get me wrong, I like Brenda and I don’t blame her, but I just want to move on with my life. And, whenever I feel as if I finally might be free of Rob, something like this happens. I’m tired of all this, I just want closure. For me, for his mother. And I can’t leave her to her own defences in her
current state. She’s got a visiting nurse stopping by once a day to help her, but it’s not the same as family. Is it?’

  Josie shook her head, knowing that when she was at her very lowest after each of her miscarriages, she’d craved the comfort of her mother.

  ‘I’m sorry, Josie, I shouldn’t have told you any of that. I don’t know what came over me, but I don’t think I’m going to be able to continue with our sessions. I’ve been volunteering for over twenty years and I hope I’ve helped, but I’m not sure I have anything left to give.’

  Josie’s heart clenched—right now she was more concerned about Clara’s mental health than her own. Did she have someone else to discuss her woes with? She might not feel comfortable chatting to her new beau about her ex and her ex-mother-in-law.

  ‘I’m so sorry,’ Clara continued, ‘but I can promise you our other volunteers are lovely.’

  ‘That’s okay. I understand. And I appreciate everything you’ve already done for me. In fact, when I got your message this afternoon, I was thinking that maybe I don’t need our sessions anymore. You’ve helped me accept my grief, not feel ashamed of it and in doing so, you’ve inspired me to live again. I just wish there was something I could do to help you.’

  ‘Oh, don’t be silly, that’s not the way this is supposed to work, but I’m glad you’re feeling better. Don’t hesitate to call the charity’s helpline though if you ever feel the need.’

  ‘I won’t,’ Josie promised, and then an idea landed in her head. ‘Can I visit your mother-in-law? Take the burden off you a little.’

  Clara blinked. ‘You’d do that?’

  ‘Yes. I think I’d enjoy it.’ And that was the truth—now that she’d started to think about others aside from herself, she was feeling much better. Helping an old dear could only improve on that.

  Clara looked as if she wanted to accept, but, ‘I feel like that might be abusing my position as your support person.’

  ‘But you won’t be my support person anymore, will you? Please, I’d love to help.’

  Slowly, a smile stole onto Clara’s face and this time it was in her eyes as well as her mouth. ‘Well, if you’re sure. That would be a help—I was a bit worried about going away next weekend—and I think Brenda would love it too. She won’t be able to get out of the house on her own for a while.’

  Josie nodded. ‘It’s settled then. I’m not taking no for an answer. Now, are we going to eat this chocolate cake or what?’

  Rebecca

  Rebecca wondered what her daughter was playing at as she parked in front of an apartment block in Coogee late Friday afternoon. Without any clues as to the why, Paige had demanded she meet her. Rebecca clicked her tongue in irritation and climbed out of her car. She’d been feeling good after today’s dialysis session, but as she headed for the building, unease crept into her heart. These days mystery and surprises made her anxious, but Paige had promised this was a good surprise, so she tried to ignore the erratic beating of her heart as she lifted her hand to the intercom.

  Then, just before she could press the button, the front door opened to reveal a tall woman with long brown hair tied up in a side-ponytail. The woman, whom she guessed to be in her early to mid-thirties, smiled as if they were old friends.

  ‘Hello. You’re Paige’s mum,’ she said in a sing-songy tone. ‘It’s lovely to meet you. Come in.’

  ‘Who are you?’ Rebecca asked, sounding ruder than she’d meant.

  ‘Sorry.’ The other woman laughed and held out her hand. ‘I’m Josie, a friend of Paige’s. She’s … She’s here and has something to show you. Come into the lounge room and I’ll go get her.’

  Before she had a chance to respond, Josie ushered her into the building and the open door of a ground-floor apartment, which went straight into a smallish living room. ‘Take a seat if you like.’ She gestured to a sofa loaded with bright cushions. ‘I’ll be back with Paige in a moment.’

  Clutching her handbag to her chest, Rebecca glanced around the room. Although not necessarily to her taste, it felt warm and personal—the posters and knick-knacks on the walls and shelves told her that whoever lived here loved music, movies and aeroplanes. Her gaze moved on from a cabinet filled with model planes to rest on some photos sitting on the mantelpiece—four frames, two with middle-aged couples in and the other two each with a baby.

  She smiled at the first infant lying peacefully on its side; it had a shock of dark hair and one eye open at the camera, but as she focused on the second baby, something nagged at her. She leaned closer and scrutinised the photo, trying to work out what it was.

  And then, it dawned.

  Jumping back as if someone had tried to strike her, she pressed a hand against her chest. Except for the fact this was in a shiny black frame, it looked almost identical to the one she’d hidden in the safe deposit box at the bank.

  No. She blinked and shook her head as a coldness snuck under her skin. It can’t be.

  Her illness, her brush with death, had to be making her crazy, delusional even. For so long Rebecca hadn’t allowed herself to think about her son, about the adoption, and now she was seeing him everywhere—in almost every thirty-something man she saw in the shops or on the streets she saw something to make her think maybe he was the one. Yesterday, in Coles, she’d almost asked the man stacking tins if he was adopted.

  And now she was clutching at this ridiculous straw.

  She picked up the frame and, as she studied it, her pulse slowed again. This could be anyone’s baby. It was a little fatter than the one in her photo, but now that she looked at it properly, it even looked a bit like the photos she had of Paige, which just proved that all young babies look the same anyway. Especially ones with next to no hair. She’d never have jumped to such a ludicrous conclusion if she hadn’t already been feeling so unsettled.

  At the sound of footsteps, she put the photo back on the shelf and turned round just as Josie returned.

  ‘Are you ready to see Paige’s surprise?’

  Rebecca nodded; the photo behind her felt as if it were burning a hole in her back.

  Josie turned, beckoned with her finger and, a second later, Paige appeared behind her. She stepped aside so that Rebecca had full view of her daughter in a gorgeous white wedding dress.

  ‘Oh my goodness.’ Her hand shot to cover her mouth as emotion rose in her throat. ‘You’re absolutely beautiful.’

  ‘Thanks, Mum.’ Beaming, Paige stepped into the room and did a slow pirouette, Josie picking up the long train and rearranging it as she did so.

  Rebecca’s gaze fell to said train. ‘That dress looks remarkably like mine,’ she mused.

  Paige and Josie exchanged a look and then both started laughing. ‘Mum,’ Paige said through her chuckles. ‘It is yours!’

  ‘What?’ Rebecca took a moment to register what she meant. ‘But … How? I gave it away. Years ago.’

  ‘That’s a long story,’ Paige said.

  ‘And one that needs a celebratory drink, don’t you think?’ Josie added.

  Before Rebecca could say ‘hell yes’ to the drink and to hell with the fact she wasn’t really supposed to be having alcohol, Josie hurried off.

  ‘Are you okay, Mum?’

  She blinked. ‘Yes, of course.’ And summoned a smile for her daughter as she reached down and ran her hand over the silk of the dress. Her dress. It was almost impossible to believe and for a moment it distracted her from the photo. ‘This is just a little overwhelming.’

  Paige closed the distance between them and hugged her. ‘I wanted to do something special for you. I look up to you and Dad so much as an example of what a good relationship, a good marriage is, so this just felt right.’

  Tears prickled Rebecca’s eyes as her daughter held her tightly. Her marriage might look good to those looking in, but could a marriage really be so solid if at its heart was a massive lie? Or at least a huge omission?

  ‘Mum. Don’t cry,’ Paige shrieked, yanking out of her embrace. ‘You’ll ruin the
dress and then Josie will kill me.’

  Josie chose that moment to return with a tray and three flutes of bubbles. Thank the Lord. It was all Rebecca could do not to snatch one up and gulp it down.

  ‘What am I going to kill you for?’

  ‘Just Mum blubbering like a baby over the dress.’

  ‘Oh.’ Josie smiled, put the drinks down on the coffee table and then conjured a box of tissues for Rebecca. ‘Here you are.’

  ‘Thanks.’ Rebecca took one, although frankly she would have preferred the bubbles. She was supposed to be overjoyed at seeing her daughter in her wedding dress, but her chest felt tight. Was she having a panic attack?

  ‘You’re welcome.’ Josie stooped, picked up two of the glasses and handed one to Rebecca and another to Paige. ‘Paige said you couldn’t drink alcohol at the moment, so I got fake bubbles.’

  Fake bubbles? Rebecca thought as Josie claimed the third glass for herself. What kind of monster had concocted such a thing? And how much had Paige told this stranger about her medical issues?

  ‘Cheers,’ Paige and Josie said in unison, clinking glasses and then turning to clink hers.

  ‘Want to hear the story about the dress, Mum?’

  ‘Go on, then,’ Rebecca said, knowing she should be more excited than she sounded. Thankfully the tears seemed to have done the trick—Paige and Josie thought she was all emotional because of the dress.

  ‘Shall we sit?’ Josie asked.

  Paige and the dress required a whole sofa to themselves, which left Rebecca sitting alongside Josie on the other almost matching, but slightly smaller two-seater.

  ‘So,’ Paige began. ‘When we were looking through your and Dad’s wedding album in the hospital, I suddenly thought how lovely it would be to get married in your dress. I asked Dad where it was and he told me you’d given it away, but after a few days, when I still couldn’t get the idea out of my head, I decided to try and find it.’

 

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