by D. B. Tait
Julia leant back against the sink, frowned at her mother, but kept her mouth shut. This was the old Eleanor, the one who could always be relied on to discount any harsh reality that didn’t fit her world view. She usually demanded total agreement and loyalty and wasn’t above noisy arguments when she didn’t get her way.
Although, to be honest, Eleanor hadn’t been unreasonable and demanding for years. She assumed that was because even Eleanor realized Julia needed support while in jail, not emotional manipulation. Jail had succeeded in achieving what Julia has always wanted. Distance.
She shifted in her chair, uncomfortable with this new reality.
Is that what I really want?
She mentally gave herself a shake realising she’d drifted off again.
Dee snorted. “My customers are focused on the latest roses and compost,” Dee said. “All they want to know is if the latest shipment of fruit trees have arrived. And to be blunt, there are two camps in this town, Julia. Those who don’t give a toss about what you did and those who want to give you a medal. The worst thing is, they’ll all probably drive you mad wanting to check you out. You can’t avoid it. People want to see you.” She hesitated and looked at Eleanor doubtfully, then shrugged at the slight nod from the other woman. “Sally was here yesterday when you were out walking.”
Julia turned away, back to the valley. So many new jabs of pain to go through. It would be like this for a while she guessed. She took in a deep breath and squared her shoulders. Dee was right. She couldn’t avoid everyone. Get it over with, get on with life.
“How is she? I haven’t seen her for a while. She still working at the Women’s Health Center?”
“She’s good,” Eleanor said. “I guess you know she went through a rocky period after you went to jail, but now specialises in sexual assault counseling.”
That didn’t surprise Julia. At seventeen Sally had transformed herself from a wild, damaged victim on the way to a life of addiction and jail, into an avenging angel. So full of rage in the courtroom giving evidence in support of Julia. Exposing herself to the world and declaring Father Pat was a monster and she was glad Julia had killed him. Not once did she ever mention how she’d been betrayed, how Julia had deserted her when Sally had most needed her.
She placed her cereal bowl in the dish rack and turned to face the other women.
“I want to get my license renewed and I have to see my parole officer so I’ll get a lift with you, Dee. Maybe I’ll drop in to see Sal after that.”
“Do you want me to come with you?” Eleanor asked, anxiety in her voice.
She shook her head. “Best I get used to doing things on my own.” She could hear the distance in her voice. She didn’t entirely trust her mother not to play some strange mind game.
She turned back to the sink, wanting to hide the rising panic in her belly. No one would hurt her. She repeated the mantra again and again in her head.
No one would hurt her.
The jangle of the door bell cut into her reverie, making her jump again. She had to stop drifting off. She wouldn’t survive if she didn’t pay attention.
“I’ll get it,” she said to the older women. “Stay there. Finish your breakfast.”
She wandered out into the canyon-like hallway of Chez Taylor, still feeling the sadness hanging in the bones of the house. The moldering mansion was fundamentally sound twenty-three years ago when they first moved in. Not much had been done on her since. The gutters were rusted and leaking, the weatherboards shabby with peeling paint, and the plumbing even more eccentric and unreliable. When she went to turn a light switch on she’d pause, not sure it was safe.
While the house was in a terrible state, its position was spectacular. Right on the escarpment on the border between Leura and Katoomba. Views down through the Jamison Valley and across to ancient Mount Solitary. The back of the Three Sisters rock formation poked up on the far right making it a several million dollar view. She used to talk to Meehni, Wimlah, and Gunnedoo when she was a child, sad that their father couldn’t find a way to turn them back into Aboriginal girls. Sometimes she wanted to join them, especially when Eleanor was at her worst.
There was no way Eleanor or Dee would sell the place and buy something more functional. They loved it here and so did she. The upkeep of the house might be daunting but she’d learned a thing or two inside, so maybe that could be her job. Repairing the house. Yes. Yes.
She almost skipped to the front door, a newfound energy rising through her body. This could work. She could enrol in a TAFE building course and probably get some credits for training she’d already done at Emu Plains. Plastering the first genuine smile on her face since she got out, she opened the squeaky door.
First task. Oil the hinges.
Second task, grab her weeping sister from a man who had a firm grip on her arm.
“What’re you doing? What’s wrong?” she said, reaching for Blossom, who was now struggling to be released. “Let go of her!”
The man pushed Blossom forward. “With pleasure,” he said. “Take her. Her boyfriend’s still being processed but she was making so much noise I wanted to get her out of our hair. Is Eleanor here? Or Dee?”
“Julia!” Blossom wailed. “I didn’t do anything! Neither did Rez. These bastards always have it in for us. We weren’t hurting anyone!”
“Bloss, you can’t drive around the streets of Katoomba at high speed with pinned pupils and a car reeking of dope. Especially at six o’clock in the morning after being up all night with that pathetic excuse for a boyfriend. What did I say about him?”
“Fuck off, Dylan! He’s not a drug dealer! You had no right to arrest him.”
“Blossom. Stop it! Go inside. I’ll deal with this.” Julia grabbed her and pushed her into the hallway. The guy was a cop. In plain clothes but a cop nonetheless. Great. Just great.
She turned back to him. Attack first. Get him off center. “What are you arresting her for? She’s not going anywhere without a solicitor.”
“Oh, for Christ’s sake. I’m not arresting her.” He pushed his fingers through his dark hair, making it stand on end. Exasperation radiated from him. “Although God knows, I probably should. This is the last time, though. She’s rapidly using up any sympathy the town has for her.” He paused. “You must be Julia. I heard you were out.”
A chill slid down her back as his eyes raked her from head to toe. Flinty gray eyes, cold and sharp.
“I’m sure you did. So if you’re not arresting her, thanks for delivering her home. We’ll take it from here.” She started to close the door, but the cop moved forward, into the doorway.
“Some people think you’re a hero,” he said in a voice of ice. “I don’t. Especially since playing God hasn’t worked out so well for the rest of your family. But I doubt you thought of that when you decided to be judge, jury, and executioner.”
She stood stock still. A rock. She was a cold, hard rock that no words could pierce. Not for one moment would she give him the satisfaction of seeing a reaction. That was reserved for the night, when minute after tortuous minute she allowed herself to be punished, reliving again and again the look of agony on her mother’s face when she was taken to the cells. Then Dee cried out, a piercing wail that haunted her nightmares. Along with the blood, all the red blood…
He was tall. Suffocatingly tall. He towered over her while she fought not to panic at the sight of all that muscle. He could crush her with one fist. Just one well aimed blow to her belly, just like that first night in the cells…
Her skin prickled with heat then cold, while a roaring noise in her head blocked out whatever else he said. The coppery smell of blood was in the air. She gripped the door frame, willing herself to stop shaking.
Breathe. There is enough oxygen. Breathe in and out. Concentrate on the breath.
He stepped back. “Are you okay?”
She nodded. “Perfectly fine,” she gasped. “Thank you for asking. Your concern for me and my family is touching. Now if yo
u’re not arresting any of us, go away.”
She could hear the chaos behind her through the pounding blood in her brain. Eleanor was yelling at Blossom who was wailing as if she was being pierced by a thousand arrows.
“But I didn’t do anything, Ma,” she screamed.
Dee pushed past them to the front door. “What happened, Dylan?”
His eyes softened at the sight of the older woman. “I’m sorry, Dee. The usual. We got a call from the hotel down at Echo Point that someone was doing wheelies there. Blossom and Rez were off their faces when we arrived. He’s still down at the station but he’ll be released soon. He’ll have to appear in court in about a month.”
“And Blossom?”
“I won’t charge her this time, Dee. She wasn’t driving and didn’t have any drugs on her. But this is the last time. She needs help. I know she’s had a lot to contend with…” he glanced at Julia… “but this has to stop. She’s going to hurt herself which is bad enough, but I can’t stand by while she hurts other people.”
Dee’s shoulders sagged. “Okay, okay. Thanks, Dylan. You’re a good friend.” To Julia’s amazement she leaned forward and hugged the cop, who enfolded her in his big arms.
“Send her off to Doc Sinclair,” the cop said as he broke the hug. “He should be able to get her into rehab.” He walked down the pathway to the police car lifting his arm in farewell, but not before he shot a cold look at Julia.
She knew that look. Prison officers looked at her that way every day.
“Just what we need,” Dee muttered. “Blossom in a state.”
“How long’s this been going on?”
Dee shrugged. “About six months. She met him at uni and it’s been downhill ever since.”
“And the cop?”
“What about him?”
“You seem very friendly with him.”
Dee frowned at her, puzzlement on her face. “What’s wrong with that? We wouldn’t have been able to manage her without his support.”
“He’s a cop.”
“And?”
“They’re bastards and they can’t be trusted.” Her heart was pounding with fury. She had to make Dee understand.
Dee put her hand on Julia’s arm. “Not all of them are,” she said softly. “Not all.”
Julia covered her face with her hands and shook. When Dee reached for her, she stepped back, pushed her hair back and took in a deep breath. “It’s okay. I’m all right. Just a freak out for a minute. Let’s join the party,” she said.
She linked her arm through Dee’s and prepared to fight for her sister’s life. Again.
*
Blossom stood at the sink, still crying.
The last time Julia saw her was seven months ago. This was not the same person.
Always skittish and nervy, which was yet another worry for Julia to torment herself with in the small hours of each morning, Blossom nevertheless did well in school and seemed to be on the right track for the future.
She was beautiful. A young Audrey Hepburn, almost a carbon copy of Eleanor at the same age. And like her celebrated mother, just as talented. Now and then, at the back of her mind, Julia worried about the other similarities to their mother, but hadn’t wanted to go down that pathway too much. She told herself Blossom had a stable life full of people who loved her.
When Julia heard she’d moved to Sydney to share a house with some of her fellow students, she’d been happy for her. She could be a normal young woman about to embark on the best years of her life.
Until now.
Nothing could have prepared her for this strung out vision of torment. Dyed black ratty hair, piercings through her nose and lip, heavy dark eyeliner which was now running down her face, and, most worrying of all, rake thin. Under her cheap T-shirt her collar bones were sharp and distinct while the rest of her was hardly there. The smell of stale rum and patchouli wafted from her.
She fumbled with a glass, trying to turn on the kitchen tap for some water. Her eyelids drooped and she swayed, trying and failing to get the glass under the tap.
“It wasn’t my fault, Ma. We weren’t doing anything,” she whined.
Julia’s heart sank. The familiar refrain of every woman who woke up in Silverwater Women’s Correctional Center after a drug-fuelled crime spree. So off their faces they couldn’t remember what they’d done.
Blossom finally noticed Julia standing at the door. She dropped the glass in the sink where it promptly shattered, and tottered over to her sister, flinging herself into Julia’s arms.
“Jules, Jules, I’m sorry,” she wailed. “I just wanted to get up here and see you. I didn’t know Rez had some stuff. We weren’t doing anything. Dylan just has it in for me ‘cause he doesn’t like Rez. You know? You do know, don’t you? You know all about those cop bastards.”
Julia held her. She was all bone and incoherence.
“Sure, Bloss. I know all about it. Let’s get you to bed, okay? You need to have a little sleep. What did you take?”
“Nothing, Jules. I swear. I didn’t have anything.”
“It’s okay, Bloss. Just tell me what you had or we’ll have to call an ambulance.”
“Don’t do that! Please don’t do that. It was just some xannies, that’s all. Nothing much.”
“How many?”
“Five,” she mumbled. “Maybe more. Maybe ten.”
“Ten Xanax! For God’s sake, Blossom! What were you thinking?!” Eleanor pulled her away from Julia and pushed her onto a kitchen chair. “We’ll have to call an ambulance anyway. She smells like she’s had a lot to drink as well.”
Julia nodded and made a grab for Blossom as she started a slow slide off the chair. Eleanor snatched up the wall phone and started dialing.
“Let’s get her into the lounge room,” Julia said to Dee.
Dee took one arm and Julia the other. They half-carried, half-dragged her to the couch in the lounge room and laid her on her side, careful to make sure she was breathing properly.
“This is the worst she’s ever been,” Dee said. “I can’t believe how bad she’s gotten in six months.” She stood ringing her hands, a look of devastation on her face. “I tried everything, Jules. Talking to her, shouting at her. I called her every day to make sure she’s okay but she stopped taking my calls. Then I found out Rez threw away her phone. I don’t know what to do anymore.”
Julia put her arms around her. “We have to get her into detox then rehab. But if she won’t go there’s not much you can do. This isn’t your fault, Dee.”
She hugged her as they waited for the ambulance. Eleanor joined them while Julia shook Blossom when she thought she was losing consciousness. “Stay with us Bloss, stay with us.”
Blossom muttered while her eyes rolled. The sound of sirens filled the air. Finally, Julia heard Eleanor open the front door, letting in the paramedics.
“What did she take?” one asked.
Julia filled them in as they loaded her onto the trolley.
The older one, a bloke, grunted. “We’ll get her up to the hospital quick smart.”
“I’ll come with you,” Eleanor said.
Julia and Dee followed them out to the roadside and watched as Blossom was loaded into the back of the ambulance. Eleanor climbed in after her.
Dee sighed and ran her hands through her hair. “What a disaster.”
“I meant what I said back there. This is not your fault or Ma’s.” They stared after the ambulance. Julia finally stirred and turned back to the house. “I’ll get some things together for Blossom. We should follow them up to the hospital.”
Dee nodded, a look of devastation on her face. Julia put an arm around her shoulders.
“I never told you how grateful I was that you visited me every week. I know I told you I didn’t want you to, but you wouldn’t listen and then I got to rely on you.”
Dee leaned her head on Julia’s shoulder. “I couldn’t leave you in that place alone, Jules. Ellie’s not strong, not really. She could only m
anage a few times.” She lifted her head and looked into Julia’s eyes. “Do you resent her for that, Julia?”
Julia stroked the older woman’s back. “Yes and no. She wrote to me almost every day. Did you know that?”
Dee shook her head, sudden tears appearing in her eyes.
“They were wonderful, a gift. Full of love and longing. All the intricate details of your lives together. Every week for ten years, I waited for those letters, craved them. They were my drugs.”
Eleanor’s letters were her lifeline to the real world, to a place Julia dreamed of every night, glimpsed through the terrifying bars of her nightmares. All the gossip, changes, and silliness of the upper mountains community allowed Julia to live vicariously through the power of her mother’s words. As the seasons changed, she could see the garden and the bush, the light on Mount Solitary, the greedy parrots on the plum tree, just as her mother described them.
Part of her believed they were her mother’s usual strategy of pulling her back toward her, only to push her away later on, but still, Julia treasured them, re-reading them and dreaming of freedom.
Freedom was here.
She stared after the ambulance.
Freedom might have to wait a while.
Chapter 3
The hospital arranged for Blossom to stay in overnight then go into detox for a week, down on the plains at the bigger Nepean Hospital. Julia wanted her to go into rehab after that, but no beds were available at any she called. Not that Blossom would go. She insisted she was fine, she’d just taken a few too many pills and she didn’t need to even go to detox. When Julia played the emotional manipulation card and told her Dee was so devastated by Blossom’s behavior, she blamed herself, and that Eleanor was painting deserts, Blossom reluctantly agreed to detox.
“But I’ll be fine after that, Jules. You’ll see.”
After a night in Katoomba Hospital, she was propped up in a bed waiting to be transferred down the mountains to the detox ward. Her words were still slurry but a least she wasn’t crying. Her face was scrubbed of makeup and she looked like a child again, a child with too many burdens. Eleanor had just left, satisfied Blossom was being cared for appropriately. Julia stared at her sister, appalled at her transformation.