by Hiba Basit
Annette hesitates. ‘That’s what I’m worried about. If she likes it here, she won’t want to leave.’
David resurfaces from the closet. ‘That’s not a bad thing. Just try and enjoy your time with her. I know I will!’
Annette slips under the duvet, thinking about Santana and Mali. ‘Try not to worry,’ she tells herself and buries her own head in her arms.
***
The rain outside is heavy and loud. First the heatwave, now this, Alex thinks as she leans against the window in Annette’s office, her head tilted forward, her arms crossed in front of her, scanning the wet world outside.
Annette watches her from behind. Many of the other children from Green Orphanage have been discharged, some lucky enough to have been fostered or adopted, others entering care from other hospitals. She recalls the day Mathias left St Anne’s. He’d progressed well in their sessions, his enthusiasm and energy and his genuine affection towards people was palpable. He had instantly warmed to a couple looking to adopt.
Annette glances at Alex now and her heart aches for her. If only she’d had the same luck. If only she’d progressed as rapidly as the others, would her future look brighter? Alex is leaning on the windowsill now, holding her weight in her arms, her feet in the air behind her. She is so small for her age. Eleven years old and she looks no more than six. Her hair falls flat around her pale face like a thin blonde curtain. Annette longs to push it behind her ears so she can see more of her eyes.
‘Do you know how I know English?’ Alex asks, breaking the silence. Annette shakes her head. ‘Andrei taught me English. And Romanian was easy!’ She fiddles with the ends of her strands, pressing them between her thumb and finger.
‘I’ve not heard you speak Romanian yet,’ Annette says.
Alex turns from the window, drawing her elbows back. ‘Did Andrei teach me English because he knew I was coming here?’ she asks, ignoring Annette’s comment.
‘Is that what you think?’
‘There’s a lot I think, but I can’t put everything I think into words!’ She laughs at her sentence. One pure sound, but then Annette notices a hiatus to it, something dismissive about how sharply it ends. Still, something lifts in her, since the staff knew that Alex rarely smiles, let alone laughs. She even looks different today. Dressed in a pale blue smock dress, she floats around the room, softly touching things she likes. She scans the picture board for a long time, running her hand across the tapered paper, suspiciously halting over the ten-year-old girl holding Annette’s hand, then moving swiftly onwards towards the safety-locked window.
‘There are many ways to put down what you’re thinking,’ Annette says.
‘Like art?’
Annette nods. She walks over to her artbook and touches the front cover. ‘May I?’ Alex nods. Annette opens it, only to find blank pages staring back at her. If she knows to use art to express her feelings, why hasn’t she tried it out? ‘What about music or drama?’
‘What’s drama?’
Annette closes the artbook. ‘It’s when people act like someone else. They’re called actors or characters. It’s a bit like pretending.’
‘I know about pretending,’ she says.
‘Like what?’
But Alex turns her back to her. Annette thinks about prompting further, but it’s too late, she knows the moment has gone. Alex moves away from the window and stands awkwardly in the middle of the room. She rocks on her feet as she scans the room. Then, she tilts her head forward to look at Annette. Her eyes look translucent, set further from her nose than the hairline.
‘Do you think you’ve saved me?’ Alex asks.
Annette falters, caught off guard. ‘No. I’m trying to help you.’
‘It’s not up to you, it’s up to it.’
‘What’s it?’
Alex shrugs.
‘Do you mean God?’
‘No. I mean a higher power. Do you believe in that?’
‘No. I believe in myself, the people around me, the choices we make. We all have choice and no higher power can take that away.’
‘That’s sad.’
‘I think it’s sad that you think saying goodbye to this world is the only way out.’
‘Suicide is not sad, it’s freedom!’ she says, excitement shining in her eyes.
‘Alex, your definition of freedom is to end your life?’
‘It’ll be better than the reality, so, yeah.’
‘How do you know?’ She watches as Alex thinks.
‘Have you ever known something before it happened?’
Annette thinks about this; she remembers the time she was on a bus and felt that it was going to hit the car parked at the side, and, in the next instant, the side mirror of that car went hurtling off. When she first saw David, she had an instinct that he was the one.
‘Yes,’ she decides.
‘How did you know?’ Alex asks. Annette struggles to answer her using her usual scientific explanations.
‘I just knew,’ she admits. ‘It was a feeling I got.’
Alex laughs, but the sound is too sharp, like car tyres screeching on ground. ‘I just know. It’s a feeling I get.’
Chapter Sixteen
David lifts himself up on his tiptoes to scan the doors under arrivals. People push past him in an attempt to get to the front of the crowd and he pushes them back, becoming annoyed.
‘Can you see her?’ Annette asks, squeezing his shoulder.
‘Not yet,’ he calls, sensing her nerves. She keeps bouncing on her feet as if she’s about to take a plunge into a swimming pool full of jellyfish.
‘How about now?’ she calls, tapping his shoulders.
‘Nope!’ Passengers from New York are already beginning to filter through the gates. Shouts of excited greetings and re-acquaintances erupt from the crowd.
‘Now?’ He turns around. She lifts her hands in the air. ‘OK, OK.’ He turns back to the arrivals and waits for what feels like hours. Unsure, he scans the rest of the airport.
‘I think that’s the last of them, Annie.’
‘She’s wearing blue dungarees!’ she shouts, as if this should justify her presence. He looks around for the profile of a fifteen-year-old in blue dungarees. He thinks he spots her, but then the girl turns around and embraces a boy and his bulldog.
‘I’m going to check again,’ David says, already heading in the direction of the arrivals section. This time, there’s no need to push to the front of the queue as hardly anyone is waiting. He leans over the gate that stops him from seeing whether Santana is hovering somewhere near the doors, having arrived but just not made it out yet. But the doors have closed, meaning all the passengers have got off the plane. He finally turns around, all hope vanishing, and finds himself face to face with a young girl in blue dungarees. She’s in the midst of assessing him.
‘David, right?’ She points her index finger at him.
‘Santana! Where were you?’ He grabs her bags, taking them off her.
‘I saw you guys a while ago. I was behind the big truck of luggage that came through!’ He frowns politely. ‘I got nervous!’ she explains. ‘I saw Annie instantly and presumed the guy she was leaning on was you, her husband. Since she doesn’t lean on just anybody!’ She laughs, eliciting a smile from David. He enjoys the energy in her laughter.
‘I hope not,’ he says jokingly.
She grins. ‘Anyway, I was hoping to meet you before. To say hi and –.’
‘To suss out whether I’ll be hell to live with for the next week or not?’
Santana opens her mouth to disagree but then closes it. ‘You caught me!’ She holds her hands up in surrender, and everything in her childlike gesture reminds him of Annette. He easily wraps an arm around her and escorts her to the exit. He finds Annette on the steps, staring at the planes preparing for take-off.
‘Annie!’ Santana calls, excitedly waving at her.
Annette’s eyes light up. ‘Hey, sweetie! How was the flight?’
‘Oh, fine
. I was sitting next to a man who was practically killing me beneath his body weight, but I can’t believe I’m actually bloody here!’
David shoots Annette a grin. ‘Language, please,’ he warns.
‘Sorry!’
Once near the car, David dumps Santana’s bags in the boot. He throws a bottle of water to her, which she catches in time.
‘You’ve got quite a hand there. Ever played any baseball?’
‘Only every day!’
‘Great! Maybe we can fit a game in this week.’
She jumps into the back seat. ‘That’d be cool. By the way, what are we doing this week? What’s the plan?’
Annette shoots David an ‘I told you she’s not easily impressed’ look. ‘There is no plan. Let’s just see how things go,’ Annette says.
‘Sure. Whatever! I’m just so glad to be in a place where there’s sun and heat! You know New York is just so messed up after Hurricane Deborah.’
David starts the car and glances at her in the side mirror. ‘Since you mention it, Santana, how are you doing after everything that’s happened?’
‘Fine.’
Annette turns around to face her. ‘Really? I know how close you were to Aunt –.’
‘I’m fine. Hey, do you think I’ll see any kangaroos?’
Annette collapses into her seat and flashes David another look. ‘Sure, baby. We’ll go see some kangaroos if that’s what you want. The weather’s been very strange recently but luckily, it’s getting better!’
David reverses and exits the car park, with Santana hanging her head out of the window like a dog, impatient to see her mother’s world.
Santana enters. She stops in her tracks at the sight of the sparkling granite floor. Her eyes scan the perimeter of the bottom floor once, and then as if she’s missed a key object, she surveys it a second time. Her mouth hangs open as she turns towards Annette and David, who watch her with amusement. She shrugs at them nonchalantly and sets the keys on the acacia table. Brushing her hand along the white walls, she approaches the base of the stairs and follows the black iron railings all the way up.
‘How many rooms?’ she asks, spinning around to look at them.
‘Six.’
‘And you each occupy one. Obviously!’ Annette grins at David. ‘Who knew my mum was so loaded?’ she says, heading for the kitchen.
‘Hey,’ Annette calls. ‘We’re not loaded. We’re just getting along fine.’
‘Please. Spare me the speech!’
‘There wasn’t going to be one!’
Santana grins and shoots David a look. ‘I’m the only one who can wind my mother up this quickly. I’ll teach you how if you want?’
He laughs and slides his arm around Annette’s shoulders.
‘You haven’t changed one bit,’ Annette says, looking at her daughter’s face, as if recalling a distant memory.
‘Well, neither have you.’ She eyes David. ‘Except that you seem much happier! I’m off to check out my room. Which one is it?’
‘You can pick.’
‘Really? This is going to be like taking a tour around Disneyland!’ She laughs, grabbing her bags and skipping out of the kitchen.
Annette looks at David apologetically. ‘Sorry, she’s a bit loopy.’
He can’t help smiling. ‘Yeah, and we’re not? Honestly, she’s perfect.’
‘Really?’ He saunters over to the fridge.
‘Yes. Why are you so jittery?’
‘I don’t know. You’re meeting her for the first time and she’s so chatty. She must be driving you crazy.’
‘Annie, will you relax?’ He throws her a water bottle.
‘I’m trying.’
‘I should be getting back to work. What are your plans?’
‘I might take her to the beach and have a picnic there. She can take a look at the Canberra waves.’
‘Good idea.’ He kisses her nose. ‘I’ll be back before dinner. I’ll grab us some Chinese tonight.’ He walks out. 'Bye, Santana!’ he calls.
She emerges on the landing and leans against the rails. ‘Where are you off to?’
‘Hospital. I have gall bladder surgery.’
‘Cool! Do you think I can shadow you one day?’
He grins. ‘I’ll see what I can arrange. Have fun!’
‘Good luck.’ She climbs downstairs as David starts the car. ‘My room’s on the far right,’ she says to Annette.
‘Have you unpacked?’
‘No. I’ll just live out of my suitcase.’
‘Why? Make yourself at home!’
‘I already feel at home.’
‘I was thinking we could go to the beach. What do you think?’ She doesn’t respond, so Annette glances in her direction.
‘I think you’ve done pretty well for yourself,’ Santana says. ‘I’m really proud of you, Mum.’
‘Thanks, but I’m not ecstatic that you failed your chemistry exam. What happened?’
Santana opens her mouth, but closes it on second thoughts. She looks away.
‘I know, it was right after, well, the hurricane,’ says Annette. ‘Do you want to talk about it?’
‘How do you even know about my grades?’ Santana challenges.
‘I’m your mother. I know everything.’
She rolls her eyes and jumps off the counter. ‘You don’t know why I chose my room.’
‘Probably because it’s farthest away from our room,’ Annette calls as Santana traipses back upstairs. Her laugh echoes in the house. Upon hearing it, Annette cannot help but smile herself.
Annette had thought she could take a few days off work, but this was as illogical as the idea that time would stand still for her as she took the days off. She wanted to spend her first full day with Santana, and yet, here she was, driving to the hospital. Stuck in heavy traffic, she sighs at the consistency of life; all she wants is a day with her daughter. And yet, life throws its inconsistencies at her when she doesn’t want them.
In hindsight, Annette had always had an idea of how her life would turn out before she’d even lived it. When she was young and her mother’s health took a turn for the worse, she was sent to collect the weekly groceries from the supermarket, her excursion timed with a stopwatch. ‘No longer than an hour!’ her mother would shout as Annette closed the front door behind her. Stepping off the bus, she would run inside the store, throw all the items on the list into the basket and then catch her breath, finally able to scan her favourite aisles.
Her favourite place was one floor up, where all the toys were. Annette would pull the heavy basket onto the escalator and then race to the top, waiting for the basket to catch up. When it did, she would hide her weekly shop underneath the jacket rail and run towards the wooden rocking horses. There, she would rock back and forth, her feet pushing the horse forward whilst her hands pulled it back in a rhythmic motion. Staff passing her used to smile at the little girl who always preferred to sit on the carousel horse with its mushroom-coloured saddle, never even venturing towards the other horses, even when one of the staff offered to lift her onto the higher ones.
But it wasn’t the saddled, hand-painted horse that Annette loved. In fact, if someone asked her to describe the horse she visited each week, she’d be rendered speechless or have to lie, hoping to capture some truth in her words. She was looking at something far above the horses, towards the display board, where a pale-looking doll stood against red velvet and waxen stars. Her name was Andreea and Annette had wanted her since the day she had seen her being carried upstairs for display. Andreea wore a white winter hat with feathers sticking at the front, partially shading her conker-brown eyes. Annette felt Andreea’s eyes following her when she retrieved the basket and walked towards the escalator, ready to head home. Andreea was on display far longer than any of the other dolls. No one was willing to buy the doll that had more sorrow in her eyes than Annette had seen. Now she knows, this was what made Andreea so attractive to her, because, by then, Annette already had a feeling that in the near fut
ure, her own eyes would reflect a similar sorrow.
The cars in front of her finally begin to move, dispersing quickly into the surrounding lanes like ants racing trails. Annette clicks her handbrake off and sets her own car into motion, the memories of her past diffusing. She turns into the hospital car park, thinking of Santana. Although she didn’t show it, Annette knew she was upset and covered it up with a role reversal bravado whereby she insisted her mother should do as she was told and go attend the meeting.
As usual, Annette can’t help thinking that she has let her daughter down. Why didn’t she ask Ellie to reschedule the meeting for another day? Why does she always put her work before her family?
Feeling angry with herself, she locks the car and walks briskly towards the hospital entrance, hoping that she can finish the meeting quickly and that, against all odds, she has not already reached an impasse with Santana, within a few hours of her arrival.
After the meeting, Annette pops in to Alex’s room on her way out of the office.
‘Miss, I’d love to play outside,’ Alex says, catching sight of her.
Annette glances at the rain that started a few minutes ago. ‘Alex, it’s pouring outside.’ Alex lifts her jacket from the back of her chair, insistent.
Annette can think of many reasons why she shouldn’t go out with her today, why she should call the play worker and ask her to do something fun indoors. But then, there are always plenty of reasons not to do something and not enough to let you do it. And playing with a child is as much a part of therapy as is talking. Maybe this might be the breakthrough she’s been hoping for. Maybe Alex needs to be in a place that makes her feel free in order to let go of all the memories that are haunting her. Her own office sometimes makes Annette leap off her chair and run out the door. Perhaps it has the same effect on children, no matter how hard she works to make it nice and safe.
‘OK, fine,’ she says at last. ‘Come on then. Zip up your jacket!’
She rushes back to her office and grabs her pager and phone. She tells reception that she’ll be outside with Alex if anyone needs them. The rain slaps her in the face from all directions. ‘Hold my hand,’ she calls, sticking her fingers out of her coat pocket. Alex grabs onto it. ‘Where do you want to go?’ Alex points to the hospital park.