Meant To Be

by Fiona McCallum

  ‘When?’

  ‘Any time. I couldn’t sleep last night. I’ve been up since five.’

  ‘Oh, you poor thing. I’ll get changed and then come on out.’

  ‘Thanks Em.’

  ‘You’re welcome. See you soon.’

  Barbara hung up without another word. Emily stared at the handset, a mix of different emotions surging through her.

  ‘That’s good,’ Jake said.

  ‘Yeah.’ Emily had been waiting for this, wanting it so desperately for two days, but even so, she felt nervous and apprehensive. ‘What if I say the wrong thing? I could upset her even more. I told her everything would be fine, remember, and look how that turned out.’

  ‘So did I, to David. Friends reassure, it’s part of the job description. We couldn’t have known, they know that. You’ll be fine,’ Jake said. He rolled over and drew her back down onto the bed towards him. ‘You don’t need to worry. You’re best friends. The right words will come to you, and if they don’t, it won’t matter. Just be yourself,’ he said, giving her a gentle kiss on the nose.

  Emily was quivering inside when she parked just below Barbara’s verandah. The door opened before she had a chance to knock. Sasha and Grace pushed past Barbara and into the house. Emily thought to call them back, but was too taken aback by her friend’s appearance.

  Barbara looked like she’d lost five kilos in the past week. Was that even possible? Her track pants and windcheater hung loose on her long, lean frame. Her attire was as much a shock as her limp hair, pale complexion and sunken, red-rimmed eyes with dark shadows beneath.

  ‘Oh Barb,’ she said. As she enveloped her friend, she was further startled by the boniness of Barbara’s shoulders. ‘I’m so sorry.’

  ‘I know. Thanks for coming,’ Barbara said, and they dissolved into tears. They held each other tightly, both sobbing and ignoring the cold breeze rushing around them from the open front door. Barbara’s shoulders shook violently. When Emily thought her friend couldn’t possibly have any more tears left to shed, a new gentler burst started.

  Finally the shuddering subsided. Emily pushed the door shut with one hand whilst keeping her other arm around her friend.

  ‘Come in and sit,’ she said, ushering Barbara into the lounge room a few steps away. Sasha and Grace were already sprawled out across one of the two long lounges. Emily looked apologetically at Barbara, whose face showed the faint signs of a smile.

  ‘Come on you two, off,’ Emily commanded.

  The dogs obeyed, looking chastised, and promptly curled up on the carpeted floor.

  ‘Sorry,’ she said. ‘I couldn’t bring myself to leave Sasha outside at our place. David said it would be okay. Actually, he said, “Worse things happen at sea”.’

  ‘That’s his way of saying it’s okay,’ Barbara said, smiling weakly. Every time Emily looked at her friend, she was stunned all over again at her appearance. And every time, her heart lurched and took on a whole new level of ache.

  ‘You sit,’ Emily commanded. ‘I’ll get us a cuppa. Tea or coffee?’

  ‘Coffee, thanks.’ Barbara didn’t look like she had the strength to walk two more steps, let alone go to the kitchen and back.

  Emily reluctantly left, hoping the dogs would stay with Barbara. As quickly as she could, she prepared a tray of biscuits, cake and mugs of coffee for Barbara and tea for herself, and made her way back down the central hall to the lounge. She hesitated at the door, unsure of what she might find. But what she saw wasn’t what she expected. There sat Barbara with Grace curled up on the floor below and Sasha in her lap, her arms wrapped around the larger, older dog and her face buried in her fur.

  ‘Here we are,’ Emily said, putting the tray down on the coffee table. ‘Yours is the blue mug.’

  Barbara looked up, two fresh streaks of tears evident on her cheeks. She tried to wipe them away with her sleeve before reaching for a biscuit and a steaming mug.

  ‘Thanks for this,’ Barbara said.

  ‘There’s no need to thank me,’ Emily said.

  Sasha had moved off Barbara when she had leant forward to reach the coffee table. Now she curled up next to her. Emily sat on the other couch and Grace stayed on the floor. The air was thick with unasked questions and raw emotion being held at bay. There was so much Emily wanted to know, but she wanted to give Barbara the space to make the first move – all the moves, really.

  It took almost an hour, two cups of coffee, one piece of buttered date loaf, and two melting moment biscuits, but she waited her out. At least she’s eating something.

  ‘Oh Em, I feel so sad,’ Barbara finally said, her lip beginning to quiver again. In the time it took Emily to put down her almost empty cup, get onto the couch and draw her friend to her, the tears had already begun cascading down Barbara’s face and were dripping off her chin and staining her windcheater. She began to cry again in sympathy.

  ‘I cry all the time,’ Barbara said into Emily’s hair.

  ‘Of course you do,’ Emily said quietly as she stroked her friend’s hair and back. ‘It’s okay. You need to grieve.’

  ‘But when will the tears stop?’

  ‘When they stop.’

  ‘My whole soul aches.’

  ‘Of course it does. I just wish there was something I could do to make the pain go away,’ Emily said.

  ‘I feel like my heart is being broken – literally. It hurts so much,’ she said, erupting into a new, stronger bout of sobbing.

  ‘It is, Barbara; your heart is being broken. It’s going to take time. Oh Barb, I’m so sorry you have to go through this.’ Emily’s gentle crying became sobbing, the intensity of which almost matched Barbara’s. The two friends clung together, tears pouring from their eyes, their bodies shuddering, their hearts aching painfully.

  ‘I don’t want another baby,’ Barbara said suddenly when the tears had slowed.

  Emily thought about her own baby sitting between them and felt a stab of guilt so great she actually gasped. ‘It’s too soon to think about anything like that.’

  ‘I just can’t go through this again. It would kill me.’

  Emily nodded. She could believe it. At that moment she believed a person really could die from a broken heart. ‘Did you see a counsellor?’

  ‘Yes,’ Barbara said, nodding. ‘Really, they can’t know exactly what you’re feeling or going through. They can say what their books tell them to, but they can’t really know, can they?’

  ‘Probably not,’ Emily said. ‘I don’t know.’ She suspected that many grief counsellors went into the profession to help others after surviving their own ordeals, but she wasn’t going to go down that path. This was all about Barbara. Whatever she needed, whatever she wanted to hear. It was all so raw; she wasn’t anywhere near thinking rationally yet.

  They sat in silence for a few minutes until Barbara broke it again. ‘We called him Albert, after David’s father – his middle name.’

  Emily was so taken by surprise that for a moment she had trouble figuring out what Barbara was talking about. Oh, the baby. It was a boy.

  ‘That’s a nice name,’ she said lamely.

  ‘Albert Joseph.’

  Emily nodded and watched Barbara fiddling with a wet ball of tissues in her lap. She should go to the kitchen and get the box, could have kicked herself for not bringing it in earlier, but didn’t want to leave in case Barbara wanted to say more. It was agony to hear these details; how much harder must it be for Barbara to utter them? The tears welled up again, and she worked to force them back down.

  She thought about how often people used the throwaway line, ‘Build a bridge and get over it’. In her own limited experience with grief – and she included her failed marriage on her list – she had come to see that you never really got over it. You got through it. Somehow you got to a point where the grief was there, but it didn’t affect you quite so much; didn’t consume your every waking moment. You were changed as a result of this experience that stayed with you like a barnacle attache
d to your heart and soul.

  ‘He looked so perfect,’ Barbara continued. ‘Tiny, way too tiny, but ten little fingers and toes, a little pursed mouth like David’s.’

  Emily watched as tears filled Barbara’s eyes again and her chin began to quiver, and put her arms around her friend. The ache in her heart was so painful she found it difficult to breathe. She began to stroke Barbara’s back.

  ‘Let it all out,’ she cooed gently as the sobbing became uncontrollable and Barbara’s whole body began to shake again. She was fully aware of how clichéd her words were, but she didn’t know what else to say.

  Slowly the wretched sobbing and shuddering subsided. Barbara eventually sat back and blew her nose to signal that particular episode was over. Emily was prepared to sit here like this all day, and the next, and the next, if it would help.

  She suddenly wondered where David was, hoped that he wasn’t hiding out alone in some metaphorical cave somewhere trying to do the macho thing. She thought he was a bit more in touch with his feelings than that, but there was no way of knowing exactly how this would affect him.

  ‘How’s David doing?’ Emily asked.

  ‘He’s so wonderful,’ Barbara said, and promptly burst into tears again. This time she shrugged and waved off Emily’s attempts to comfort her. And the bout was short-lived.

  Progress, Emily thought, though she knew not to get her hopes up. Relapses were inevitable. This would be a long, slow process that could take weeks, months, or even years.

  ‘I couldn’t ask for a better husband.’

  But how’s he doing? Emily wanted to ask again as the silence rolled on.

  ‘I think he’s doing better than me,’ Barbara finally said. ‘Probably only because someone has to keep things together enough to make decisions. He’ll probably crumble when, if, I ever get my act together,’ she said with a wan smile.

  Emily just looked on. She didn’t know what to say.

  ‘Hey, thanks so much for doing all the cooking and the washing, and everything,’ Barbara said, abruptly changing the subject. ‘It made such a difference to not come home to how we left the place. I know it’s weird, but it sort of meant that something had changed. If the dishes had still been there on the table, the milk spoiled, the rubbish stinking, I think it would have done me in.’

  Emily nodded. ‘Sorry I didn’t wash the sheets,’ she said with a shrug. ‘I thought you might like your bed being that bit more familiar after the hospital. I hope that was the right thing to do,’ she added helplessly.

  Barbara nodded, her eyes glistening. ‘You were right. Oh Em, you’re such a good friend. I don’t know what I would do without you,’ she said, and reached out for Emily as a new flood of tears erupted. Again they held each other tightly.

  ‘And you’re the best friend I could ever hope for,’ Emily said through her own sobs as she rubbed her friend’s back.

  Slowly the episode ended and they parted again to wipe away their tears and blow their noses.

  ‘Look what we’ve been through this past year,’ Barbara said. ‘What a fine pair we are,’ she added with a faint smile.

  What I’ve been through by no way compares to what you have, Emily thought. ‘Thank God we’ve got each other.’ They clasped hands and held on tightly as they looked at each other through sodden lashes.

  Emily knew she would be forever grateful for having met Barbara when she did. Thinking about it again now made her want to shed tears for herself. But thankfully none came. Could you actually run out of tears?

  ‘I’m exhausted,’ Barbara suddenly said. ‘Would you mind if I went and had a lie-down?’

  ‘Of course not. Do you want me to wait for David? Will he be back soon?’

  ‘He should be. I’ll be fine though. Thanks so much for coming.’

  Emily watched as Barbara got up shakily. She rose in case she needed help. The women hugged briefly and Emily was shocked all over again at how frail Barbara was.

  ‘Do you need a hand?’ she said, when it looked like Barbara might overbalance on her way to the door.

  ‘Thanks, but I’ll be fine,’ Barbara said, her hand on the door frame. She left the room with Sasha, leaving Emily feeling helpless all over again. Somehow Grace knew to stay beside her mistress. She was grateful for the dog’s loyalty.

  She took the tray back to the kitchen, thought about leaving the mugs in the sink so the noise of washing them wouldn’t bother Barbara, but decided not to leave work for David. And, anyway, she needed to do something while she waited for him. No matter what Barbara said, there was no way she was leaving her alone.

  As she ran some water into the sink, she doubted Barbara would actually go to sleep. But a rest would at least help.

  Crying really is exhausting. She could actually use a catnap herself. Grace nudged her leg and she bent down to ruffle her ears.

  ‘I’ve been ignoring you, haven’t I? Sorry girl, Auntie Barbara needed all my attention,’ she explained in a whisper. ‘And I’m afraid she’s going to need a lot more of it yet.’

  Emily made sandwiches for Barbara and David’s lunch and was just drying the cutting board and knife when David came in. She put her finger to her lips.

  ‘She’s having a lie-down,’ she whispered as they hugged tightly.

  ‘Thanks so much for everything,’ David said. He was clearly exhausted, but didn’t seem as bad as Barbara.

  When would he crumble? No idea, but Jake and I will be there if and when he does. ‘My pleasure,’ she said, smiling wanly at him.

  ‘Having the crop in is certainly a weight off my mind,’ he said.

  Emily nodded, unsure of what to say. ‘I’ll head off now you’re here,’ she said. ‘I just didn’t want to leave Barbara on her own.’

  ‘Thanks. It’s been good to get out of the house for a bit. Can you just wait a minute while I check on her?’ he said.

  ‘Of course. No problem.’ He made his way slowly from the room, standing a lot less tall and straight than usual. ‘Carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders,’ Gran would have said.

  David re-entered a few moments later. ‘She’s asleep with Sasha curled up beside her,’ he said, with a hint of a smile.

  ‘Sorry about that,’ Emily said, cringing.

  ‘Don’t be. I don’t mind. Honestly. If having Sasha there will help Barbara get some sleep and feel a little better, then it’s a small price to pay,’ he said.

  ‘There are some egg sandwiches in the fridge if you haven’t had lunch. I made them while I was waiting.’

  ‘Thanks, Em, you’re the best,’ David said and wrapped his arms around her. They held on tight for a few moments before both drew apart slowly at the same time.

  ‘You take care,’ Emily said, gathering up her handbag from the floor.

  ‘I’ll see you out.’

  ‘There’s no need, David, really,’ she said, and made her way out and down the hall, being careful to tread quietly.

  Emily hoped the heavy ache within her would ease with the closing of the front door. But it didn’t. It stayed like a hand clenched around her heart, as did the lump in the back of her throat.

  Chapter Thirty-six

  Emily stopped at the mailboxes at the crossroad just outside David and Barbara’s driveway, and looked left and right, checking for traffic. Without consciously making the decision, she found herself turning left towards John’s parents’ house instead of right towards the bitumen to go home. She drove in a daze, just like she had the last time she’d come out to see them – the day before his funeral. And here she was again, arriving at their beautiful home unannounced, dishevelled, and empty-handed. She didn’t even really know why she was there, except that she felt compelled to be.

  Emily briefly checked herself in the mirror before getting out of the car. She looked a wreck, just like last time. At least she was dressed a little better. And not wearing make-up meant no streaks of mascara or panda eyes.

  ‘Gracie, you just wait here. There’s a good girl.’


  The front door opened before she had a chance to knock. There before her stood the impeccably presented Thora Stratten in navy slacks and a navy-and-white lightweight knitted jumper. A strand of pearls hung just below her throat.

  ‘Emily, what a lovely surprise,’ Thora said, enveloping her in a warm hug. Emily didn’t want to let go, wanted to stand there drawing in Thora’s strength. ‘It’s so nice to see you. Come in,’ Thora said, releasing her.

  Emily entered the house, having still not said a word.

  ‘Gerald, dear, Emily’s come to visit.’ Thora ushered her into the lounge room. She heard Gerald’s footsteps in the hallway, and when he entered the room, she was surprised at how much older he looked since the last time she’d seen him. He was stooped and his shoulders a little rounded. She felt bad for not keeping in touch better.

  ‘Dear girl, wonderful to see you,’ he said, clutching her to him and holding her tight for a moment before letting her go. ‘Can I get you a tea or coffee?’

  ‘Tea would be lovely, thank you.’

  ‘Thora, darling?’

  ‘Coffee, thank you, Gerald. And butter some of the jubilee cake and bring it in, there’s a dear.’

  ‘Right. Very good. You sit and catch up on your girly talk and I’ll be back soon.’

  Emily sat back into the leather sofa, feeling totally at ease. On the few times she’s sat here during her time with John, she’d been so uptight, almost afraid of them. She really wished she hadn’t let John’s relationship with his parents influence her view of them for so long. They weren’t at all what he’d made them out to be. But, she mustn’t dwell. Things were different now, better.

  ‘Have you been to see Barbara Burton?’

  Emily nodded.

  ‘How is she? How are they doing? I was so sad to hear their news. Poor things.’

  ‘I think she’s doing as well as can be expected.’ She cursed her words. She sounded so cold and robotic – just like Enid. ‘It’s early days,’ she added with a shrug. There I go again.