Pushing her thoughts aside, she got up and found her father in the kitchen eating breakfast.
‘Morning, Jadey,’ Paul said. ‘Can I make you some toast?’
‘No thanks, Dad.’ It was a simple gesture but enough for Jade to know that he was, in his small way, doing his best to be a father and take care of her. He was usually entirely dependent on Helena. His attempts to hide his depression and fragility over the years had only pushed Jade further away, but she didn’t resent him. She pitied him, knowing that he would have been a happier person if her mother hadn’t continually disappeared from their lives. Jade sometimes wondered if he blamed her for Asha’s unexplained comings and goings. After all, her mother made it plainly obvious that she had no maternal instincts.
‘You know, I thought the phone rang and it might have been your mother, but then I realised there is no phone here.’ He laughed awkwardly. He hadn’t laughed for so long it sounded almost brutal, like something was caught in his throat. ‘I was sure I heard it ring but no, it must have been something else. I couldn’t have imagined the sound. Do you have something here that could have rung?’ She could see him doing calculations in his head.
‘No, Dad. I have nothing,’ she said simply.
‘I just don’t know how she’ll find us here,’ he said, deflated. ‘Do you think she’ll know where to look for us?’
‘If she comes back,’ Jade said blankly, but he mistook what she said as a question.
‘Yes, if she comes back,’ he repeated.
‘Where’s YiaYia?’
‘Mary picked her up. They’ve gone to the fire station to make meals for the firefighters.’
‘Is our car here?’ Jade asked.
Paul put the loaf of bread away and wiped crumbs off the counter. ‘Yes, it’s just out front.’
‘Do you need it?’
‘I was going to help Bob prepare his cattle for agistment.’
‘Can you drop me at the station? I want to help YiaYia.’
‘I don’t think it’s a good idea to do anything strenuous,’ her dad said softly. ‘Your arm needs to heal.’
‘Dad, I’m putting antibiotic cream on the blisters and changing the dressing and gauze every day,’ Jade said, lifting her arm up to show him that she was following the nurse’s instructions and taking good care of the wound. ‘It seems to be healing well. I can’t make it any worse.’
Paul spoke cautiously, his eyes downcast. ‘I just think it would be better to stay here and get some rest.’
‘Dad, I’m not a child anymore,’ she snapped. ‘I’m not just going to sit here all day doing nothing.’ She immediately felt guilty. ‘I’m sorry, Dad,’ she apologised. ‘I just want to help, that’s all.’
Jade went into the lounge room, feeling disappointed with herself for taking her anger out on her father, who was just looking out for her. She put on her sneakers and the only clothes she had – a pair of denim shorts and a baggy T-shirt. The cabin was at the top of the valley and Jade looked out through the window to the far distance, at the tops of the burned trees poking out like skeletons. They were just five kilometres from her property but the landscape in front of her was barely recognisable. Her grandmother’s friend had offered them use of the cabin indefinitely, and Jade knew they were luckier than many people in the area who had nowhere to go. The cabin had a steel roof, two bedrooms and a tiny kitchen with a lounge room that had a fireplace in the corner. She didn’t mind sleeping on the couch in the lounge room, but she did miss her dogs, who were staying with her aunt for the time being.
When they drove in silence to the station, Jade struggled to comprehend what had happened to her town. Everyone moved in a fragile state of panic and confusion.
She walked into the station and scanned the room for her grandmother. In one corner, two firemen sat at a desk fielding phone calls for help and then dispatching units. The rest of the firemen and women were moving in and out of the space, covered in soot and clearly exhausted. There was a large map on the wall where they’d placed red pins on the areas that were still on fire.
Jade noticed people coming and going from the Scarborough Pub next door. The pub had been there as long as Jade could remember and it was one of the few places that survived the fires unscathed. She found her grandmother and some other locals busily making sandwiches in the pub kitchen. One person was sorting through piles of frozen food, another was mixing a batch of egg mayonnaise, while Mary was opening cans of beetroot and her daughter was rinsing lettuce and slicing tomatoes. Helena had loaves of bread laid out in front of her.
‘YiaYia,’ Jade said. ‘Can I help?’
‘My girl.’ She smiled and kissed her forehead. ‘Come, you butter the bread.’ She made room beside her and handed Jade a knife and a large tub of butter. Mary came over and gave Jade a warm hug and squeezed her so tightly Jade almost let out a yelp. ‘Your grandmother told me what happened to you,’ the old lady said. Her purple-grey hair, usually brushed back and fastened with a pin, was a mess. ‘So glad you are okay, other than that poor arm of yours. She was a wreck, your poor grandma.’
‘I’m fine.’ Jade smiled meekly, feeling suddenly self-conscious.
They were working swiftly like a production line. Once Jade buttered the bread, Helena would add the cheese and tomato to some, and egg mayo, lettuce and beetroot to the others.
‘Where did you get all this food?’ Jade asked, once she had settled into the rhythm of their system.
‘The power is out in the town, so everyone whose houses survived are donating food from their fridges and freezers before it goes bad,’ Mary explained. ‘The Red Cross has arrived and brought some supplies. They’re working out of the school hall, making sure that everyone who survived is registered.’
When the first batch of sandwiches was ready, Jade put them onto a platter and carried them next door to the firefighters. She stepped in quietly and placed them on a table. Immediately, a fireman came over and grabbed one. ‘Thanks, dear,’ he said. ‘The men will be very grateful to have a feed.’
He was middle-aged with thick brown hair and sideburns. His skin was rough and lined with scars and wrinkles, like a map of the horrors he had seen in his lifetime. Jade was about to go back to the pub’s kitchen when she paused. ‘I’m trying to find a firefighter who was by the creek on the night of the fires,’ she said in a rushed voice, conscious of the fact that he had more important things to do than talk to her.
He met her eyes and she noticed the dark circles around his. ‘There are eight thousand emergency crews here from around the country working across the towns of Silver Creek. If you had a bit more information about him I could ask around, but without a name, I’m afraid it would be like finding a needle in a haystack.’
Jade sighed and she saw his eyes trace over the bandage on her arm as if sensing that there was weight behind her question. ‘What was your name?’
‘It’s Jade.’
‘Jade, if you don’t mind me asking, is there a particular reason you want to find this firefighter?’
She looked up at him and fidgeted with her hands in her pockets. ‘He saved my life. I just want to thank him.’
The firefighter smiled warmly at her. ‘We do what we do to save lives and not for praise or a pat on the back. I’m sure he’d be grateful to see you looking well after the fires but knowing he saved someone’s life is thanks enough. It’s the best thank you we could ever get in this job.’
‘I appreciate your time,’ Jade said, feeling deflated. She was just about to walk off, when his deep resonant voice called her back. ‘I’ll ask around for you. What was the area or street name? And do you remember anything else about him?’
‘He found me at the creek in the forest off the back of Timbarra Road. All I remember was that he had blue eyes and a scar above his eyebrow.’
‘I’ll ask around. Come back in a few days and I’ll let you know if I’ve had any luck. Look after that arm, now.’ He smiled and then returned to his desk.
&n
bsp; As Jade walked back to the pub’s kitchen, cradling the gauze wrapped around her arm, she had the sense that she would never know who saved her life.
‘We are going to make meat pies. The men need something they can grab and go,’ Helena said as she led Jade to the bar of the pub. ‘There is no room left in the kitchen, so this will have to do,’ she continued as she put newspaper down on the counter. Helena took a few slices of pastry out of a box and sliced them in half. ‘I need you to cut all the pastry in these boxes.’
Jade was in awe of her elderly grandmother’s energy, her sense of optimism. She took a knife and got started, thinking of how much she loved Helena. She was the only constant in Jade’s life, there in the times her mother hadn’t been. Like now.
This time, her mother had been gone for nearly ten months. Jade wondered what Asha would have said to her now. Would she have stroked Jade’s hair and changed the dressing on her burned arm? Would she have made her tea and told her that everything would be okay, that the ache in her chest would pass, and the tightness in her throat would ease? Would she have decorated the cabin with vases of lavender and made it feel a bit more like home, and less like a life under a roof of displacement? In truth, Jade knew the answers already. If her mother were there, she would have been more concerned with her lost garden than her lost daughter. She would have mourned for the land that had been burned away but she would never have seen how much of her daughter was missing.
Jade tried to push thoughts of her mother from her mind. It was their home, the olive groves, the lost lives that were worthy of Jade’s mourning. Asha didn’t deserve to be thought of. And so Jade found herself wishing the flames had engulfed the memories of her mother so she wouldn’t still feel the burning in her heart.
12
DAVID walked out of the doctor’s office, his body trembling. He felt guilty that he knew far more than his wife did, but as the doctor had said, there was no use in giving a pre-emptive diagnosis. He stepped softly into his son’s room. Matthew was asleep. David sat in the chair beside his bed and stared at his tufts of blond hair, wondering how it was possible that his beautiful son could be sick.
David was exhausted. It had been one of the longest days of his life. He felt numb with disbelief. This morning had been like every other morning. He’d woken up, gone to work at his practice, made the mad dash across town to give his lecture. And somehow in the hours between then and now, his life had come to a grinding halt.
Matthew stirred. ‘Dad,’ he said, opening his eyes slowly.
‘Hey, buddy. How are you feeling?’
‘Tired,’ Matthew said. ‘I was here all day on my own. They said they had to talk to you before you could see me. I was scared,’ he whispered. ‘But the nurses were really nice. They gave me lemon ice-cream.’
‘Well, I’m here now and Mom’s just in the bathroom. We’re not going to leave your side.’
‘Dad, why did they ask me so many questions?’
‘What kind of questions?’
‘Like, if I’ve been feeling funny. And whether my body hurts and whether I’m tired and stuff like that.’
‘That is a lot of questions. What did you tell them?’
Matthew gave a weak grin. ‘That I’m strong like my dad. And they asked me how I got all my bruises. When I told them, they asked me if you or Mom had hurt me.’
‘Well, that’s silly of them, isn’t it?’ David answered as calmly as he could.
Matthew sat up. ‘Can we go now? I need to start practising.’
David avoided eye contact with his son. ‘Actually, buddy, you need to stay here overnight.’
‘Overnight?’ Matthew spat out in disbelief. ‘I thought we could go home now.’
‘They just need to run some more tests.’
‘But they’ve already run so many,’ he said, lifting his arm from under the sheets to show David the round bandaid over the puncture wound. A purple bruise had already formed. ‘Look, they put a needle in here and took heaps of blood.’ He pointed to the inside fold of his elbow.
‘You’ve been very brave today. I’m so proud of you. They just need to keep you here to make sure your wound isn’t infected,’ David lied.
‘Okay, well as long as they let me out early tomorrow so I have enough time to warm up before the game.’
David sighed but tried to smile. ‘Unfortunately, buddy, you’re going to have to miss the game. You need to relax. Because you fainted today, the doctors won’t let you play, and I don’t think your coach would either.’
Matthew frowned. ‘But, Dad!’ he cried in protest. ‘I’ve never missed a game and this is my last match before the scout comes. I need to practise my footwork. I’m sure they’ll let me leave if we just tell them about the academy scout.’
David’s heart pounded. His son was blissfully unaware of how much his life could change. ‘I don’t think so, buddy. It’s best that you rest. You’ve had a big day.’
‘This is the worst day ever,’ Matthew sulked.
Yes, it is, David thought, his eyes glassy. The. Worst. Day. Ever.
When Courtney fell asleep that night next to Matthew on his hospital bed, David paced around the room quietly, unable to sit still. He wandered down the hospital hallways, watched as the nurses changed shifts, briefing the incoming staff on the patients. Through a break in the curtain in a room next to Matthew’s, David could see a sportsman, probably in his late teens, whose leg was in a cast. David had summed him up already: a football player with a broken leg. The pretty girl beside him who stroked his hair was his trophy girlfriend. The broken limb was almost something to be proud of. He’d played a good game and gone down for his team. The pain would pass. It would heal.
David walked into the waiting room, where two televisions on opposite ends of the room played silently. A little girl was asleep on her father’s lap. An old lady was flicking through a magazine. They didn’t even glance up when David walked by. He felt blissfully invisible here. These people had their own suffering, their own worries to contend with. He went down to the ground level and found himself walking beyond the cafeteria, past the flower shop adorned with ‘get well’ balloons and kids’ toys, through the emergency dock and finally out the glass doors. When he felt the slap of fresh air, he broke into a brisk walk, and then found himself jogging, then running down the hospital’s sloped driveway, across the car park and onto the street.
He was still in a shirt and black pants, with his tie tucked into his pocket. His black leather shoes were unsteady on the roads. David didn’t know why he was running but it felt good to escape, and the motion brought him some clarity.
He ran down 57th Avenue and followed it to the river, where he turned onto Blue Road. He passed the Riviera Country Club and slowed down finally as he neared University Drive. David’s pace changed to a steady jog and he felt his rapid pulse throbbing in his neck.
He entered the university gates and was overcome with a youthful rush of adrenaline as he jogged beside the clean, freshly cut lawn and around the fountains. In the night light, the tall lampposts shrouded everything in pools of silver. David loved the tilting palm trees, the tall green grass, the hills and flat plains. He took in the sound of the sprinklers and the laughing students, and the sense of possibility that jostled the leaves like a breeze.
He kept jogging, passing the library and the students camped out in front of it, Starbucks coffees in hand, laptops spread out like they had been in his day. He continued past the Law School and then ran alongside the athletic centre through the field. He watched a group of young men kick a ball around and wished he were one of them. Young and carefree, the unknown wonders of the future ahead of them.
He stopped only when he reached the back of the lake near Eaton College. It was nearing 10 pm. David put his hands behind his head and bent over to catch his breath. His shirt was sticking to him with sweat and his feet felt like they were on fire, revealing just how much his fitness level had waned since his university years.
&nbs
p; He stared at the lake as the fountain spouted water at its centre. It was only when he stopped running that the thoughts came crashing down on him like a hammer. A heavy blow that re-ignited all the what ifs he had tried not to think about.
Two female students scurried past him – a girl in a pink jumpsuit, and the other in tight gym pants and a luminous yellow crop top. He found himself staring at their fit, youthful bodies. They caught him gazing in their direction, whispered something to each other and walked by giggling. It was only then he realised how odd he would look to them – a middle-aged man, dressed in suit pants and a shirt, sweating profusely, alone beside the lake. To them, he must have looked like a man running from something. And he was.
When David got back to the hospital it was past midnight. He was worried Courtney would give him a mouthful for disappearing, but instead he found her and Matthew still fast asleep on the hospital bed.
David sank into the chair beside the bed and ran his hands through his hair. It was just as well they were asleep. He looked like he’d been caught in a storm, with his dripping body and the blush of crimson around his cheeks. He took off his shoes and unbuttoned his shirt.
He stared numbly at Courtney, who had her arms around Matthew as he slept in a ball, his legs curled into the foetal position. Courtney’s beautiful auburn hair was spread over the white pillow, her lips resting on Matthew’s sandy crop of hair. The peacefulness of her sleeping face belied what David knew had been going through her mind.
The image of them made him think back to when Courtney was pregnant: her thin body carrying a huge tummy, her awkward waddle. When he thought her belly couldn’t possibly get bigger, it did, and they would sit on the couch in the evenings, his hand over her belly button, her hand over his. The baby would kick and hiccup, and they would laugh, feeling the gentle movement beneath their palms. After the miscarriages and IVF treatments, they were extra vigilant while Courtney was pregnant. Both felt like they could lose their baby at any moment, without any warning. Right up until the day Matthew was delivered, David couldn’t shake that fear. From the moment he discovered she was pregnant, he felt an almost primal instinct to protect his wife and unborn child. He would stand behind her as she dawdled up the stairs, help her into the car, carry all the grocery bags, vacuum the house and unpack the dishwasher so she didn’t need to bend. He made himself an appendage to her, always within reach.
The Ties That Bind Page 8