Paper Chains

by Nicola Moriarty

  When Simon finally understood that this time India wasn’t going to wake up, he pulled her onto his lap, buried his face in her hair, and he cried. And if it weren’t for the nurse who finally arrived for India’s evening check-up and gently pried his hands away, he might never have let her go.

  Part Six

  New York in the fall

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Hannah was running, feet pounding, breathing even. She felt good. The rushing wind was cool on her sweat-soaked skin. She was on her own at the moment, but she could see another runner up ahead. Excellent, she could see them slowing. She was going to overtake. And she didn’t feel tired . . . yet.

  She gave the other runner a nod as she passed him and then picked up the pace a little so that she could increase the distance between them. A couple of minutes later, a twinge in her knee forced her to take it a little easier again. She slowed to a comfortable jog and started thinking back over the last few months so that she could take her mind off her knee. There were still approximately ten ks to go, so there was plenty of time for reminiscing.

  First her thoughts turned to India. It still amazed her how a person who she had known for such a short period of time had had such an impact on her. And not only that, how someone with such a huge, vibrant personality could actually be gone. Frequently Hannah had to remind herself that India really was gone, that she wasn’t off travelling in some remote location. That Hannah wasn’t going to get a random postcard from her. That she would never see her again.

  The funeral had been beautiful and horrendous all at once. India had left behind strict instructions for the ceremony, so the music, the flowers, the photographs in the slide show, everything had been carefully selected by India herself, and each element was simply breathtaking. From the hauntingly beautiful songs that brought the entire congregation to a sobbing mess, to the crazy photos of India posing in fancy dress or falling from a canoe into a lake in God only knew which city, which had everyone laughing despite themselves.

  The hardest part, though, was watching Simon. Hannah’s little step-brother, who had once felt like a stranger to her, but thanks to India, had been slowly becoming more and more a part of Hannah’s life. Never had Hannah seen a person look more heartbroken. It was almost as if it wouldn’t have mattered if he’d known for his entire life that this day was coming – he still would have had this sort of surprised look on his face, as though he didn’t actually think it would really happen. As though right up until the moment she died, he had still been expecting some sort of miracle. Hannah had tried to keep her distance, to allow Amy and Riley to be the ones to comfort their brother. But Simon had taken her off guard by appearing by her side as they were exiting the church and taking her hand in his.

  ‘All these other people,’ he’d whispered in her ear, ‘they don’t know her like us, do they?’

  ‘No,’ she’d replied quietly.

  ‘And they’ll never get to,’ he said, his voice cracking on the last word, his face crumpling. And then he’d pulled his hand out of hers and turned away. One of his mates was patting him on the back then, and so Hannah had turned to Liam, feeling awkward and unsure of what to do next.

  Later the group had moved out into the cemetery, where India was to be buried. India’s choice to be placed in the ground had surprised Hannah at first. If she’d been taking a guess, she would have thought that India would want to be cremated, and perhaps released into the ocean’s waves – but when Simon had explained India’s reasoning, it made sense. She wanted to feel as though she would forever be connected with the earth, he said. She wanted to think of her body as a part of nature, wanted to be responsible for the growth of new life – flowers, plants, trees – and imagine her essence travelling through the earth, tunnelling into the core, spreading to each corner of the planet. She wanted to always be there, grounded in this world.

  When they had been leaving the cemetery, Hannah had noticed a middle-aged man, standing by a tree, watching the service from a distance, and she had wondered briefly if he might have been someone. Could he be India’s long-lost father? Finally come to lay eyes on his daughter? But surely that was ridiculous, wasn’t it? How would he even know? And why wouldn’t he actually join the funeral if that were the case? But there had been something – something about the way he held himself – that had felt oddly familiar to Hannah, and she’d had to wriggle her shoulders as they walked back to the hire car, in order to make the goose bumps that had travelled down her arms disappear. She would never know if that man had just been some stranger, perhaps visiting a parent’s grave and stopping to watch the service, or if he’d actually been India’s father – but then again, she supposed it didn’t really matter. If it was him, he’d shown up much too late.

  Hannah began to speed up a bit and her thoughts turned to just how much her life had changed in such a short space of time. They had moved to Melbourne in September, about a month after the funeral. It had been a spur of the moment decision. They were just about to put down a deposit on an apartment in Leichhardt when Liam’s partner had suggested that it was time to expand. She could tell he was nervous when he came to tell her about the idea.

  ‘Han, can we talk?’

  Hannah had felt a familiar spark of fear. Ever since she had returned home, despite Liam’s continued assurance that he had forgiven her, she still thought each conversation that began with a serious note was going to end in Liam telling her he wanted a divorce.

  ‘Sure, what’s up?’ She had become quite good at hiding her fear though.

  ‘Don’t worry, it’s nothing bad – just an . . . opportunity, but we’re going to make the decision together, okay?’ The way he squeezed her arm and smiled reassuringly told Hannah that she wasn’t quite so good at hiding her fear as she had first thought.

  ‘I’m thinking about starting up a new branch – in Melbourne.’ He’d paused, giving her a moment to take it in, before rushing on, ‘But I don’t have to do it. And I mean that, okay? If we stay in Sydney, I’ll still have plenty of good opportunities. So don’t think that we have to do this – because I know that moving interstate is a big bloody decision. Especially when we finally found a place we actually liked in Leichhardt.’

  Hannah had dropped her eyes down to Liam’s feet. She was thinking. In fact, her mind was racing. A new start. Maybe she could make new friends. They could have Sunday night dinners with Liam’s parents. She could find a new job, finally go back to work. They could pick a place close to the city, maybe on the river. A new childcare centre for the kids, where the staff would be friendly and wouldn’t judge her and wouldn’t know that she had run away and left her children for close to two months. She could feel the adrenalin building up, as though she had just been injected with a dose of pure form dopamine. This was exciting.

  She looked up at Liam. ‘That place in Leichhardt had nowhere near enough sunlight.’

  From that moment things had moved extremely fast. There were trips to Melbourne to look for houses; Liam’s business could afford to foot the bill for a serviced apartment initially, but they’d need to find their own place as soon as possible. There was packing and putting their own house on the market. There were several lunches with Hannah’s dad and her step-mother. Apparently Carol was just a bit devastated that the step-daughter she had been about to begin a ‘relationship’ with was now moving interstate. Hannah had to promise to fly up and visit regularly.

  There had almost been a catastrophe when Hannah had realised that moving interstate would mean having to find a new psychologist. She was practically hyperventilating at the thought of starting all over with someone new, of having to explain to this complete stranger that she had abandoned her children and waiting to see if they would judge her all over again. And they had just begun to delve into Hannah’s mother’s suicide; Hannah was feeling on the verge of a breakthrough. Luckily, Liam had come up with the solution. She could keep s
eeing Elizabeth – on Skype. Elizabeth was thrilled with the idea; she said it was a window into the future for her business. She was hoping to publish an article about it in The New Psychologist’s Journal.

  When they had finally made the move to Melbourne, things really started to change. Hannah found a government job with the legal aid office and booked the children into childcare three days a week. They found a house in St Kilda that was in walking distance of cafés, restaurants and parks and a short drive to the city for both of their workplaces.

  But the big turning point for Hannah was when Ethan said his first word, and she was there to hear it. It wasn’t ‘mummy’, it was ‘ball’ – but Hannah had squealed with delight and Ethan’s face had broken out in the hugest smile and finally Hannah stopped being afraid that he hated her. She also realised that he had actually stopped screaming every time she held him for some time now and she finally started to relax with her son.

  Now as Hannah rounded a corner and spotted another couple of runners up ahead, she smiled as she thought about all of the moments that she hadn’t missed out on. Ethan’s first steps. Gracie’s first hip-hop concert (she was not interested in learning ballet, thank you very much). And she thought about the one thing that Elizabeth had been trying to convince her to say, out loud, ever since she had started seeing her.

  She took a deep breath – which was difficult because she was currently quite out of breath – and she said, quietly but firmly to herself, ‘You are a good mother.’ As soon as the words left her lips she felt a burst of energy and she picked up the pace and overtook the next few runners. She continued to practise her self-talk as she ran. ‘Yes, I did something terrible. No, I will never forget about it. But I can forgive myself. Because I was not well and now I’m getting help and I am being a good mum to my children.’ She hesitated then, looked behind her to see how close the last group of runners that she had passed were, then squinted up ahead to see if she was about to catch up to anyone. When she was certain she was alone, she drew in another huge breath and then yelled out into the wind, ‘I deserve my family!’ She sprinted for the next kilometre.

  Simon was beginning to think he would never find them. There must have been thousands and thousands of people here. A small celebration had broken out over to his right. A runner was bent forward, hands resting on her knees, taking ragged breaths of air while her friends danced excitedly around her, patting her on the back. Behind him someone burst into tears and he turned to see an older woman clasp her face, withered hands on papery thin skin. He followed her eye-line and saw an older man finishing the race. Stepping back, he allowed her to rush past him and embrace her husband.

  ‘Told you I could do it,’ Simon heard the man whisper into his wife’s greying curls.

  Simon smiled. The finishing line of the New York marathon was definitely a nice place to do some people-watching.

  ‘Simon!’

  He swung around at the sound of his name and his face split into a smile as he saw Liam striding towards him, carrying Ethan comfortably on his hip, his other arm attached to Gracie’s hand.

  ‘Good to see you, mate, wasn’t sure you would make it.’ Liam looked relieved as he handed Ethan straight across to his step-uncle.

  ‘Been here for ages, just couldn’t find you guys,’ Simon responded, shifting Ethan around so he was sitting comfortably in his arms.

  ‘Expecting her to finish any minute now . . . I think. Been a nightmare, though, trying to hang on to Gracie. She keeps wanting to wander away; terrified I’m going to lose her.’

  Simon smiled down at Gracie. ‘All right, you, I’ve got my eyes on you now, k?’ And he motioned with two fingers, pointing first at his own eyes and then down at Gracie’s. Gracie giggled in response. Simon looked back up at Liam. ‘You got the camera ready then? I’ll make sure Grace doesn’t go anywhere.’

  ‘How are you going anyway?’ Liam asked as he lifted the camera that was slung around his neck and started fiddling with the settings.

  ‘Yeah, not bad, thanks, mate.’

  Liam stopped playing with the camera and looked up to scrutinise Simon’s face. ‘Really?’ he asked. ‘We hadn’t heard from you in a little while. Thought maybe you’ve been . . . you know, struggling, with everything . . .’

  Simon shrugged. ‘I’m getting by,’ he replied. He looked like he was going to add something else then, but his face changed and he reached out a hand to whack Liam on the shoulder. ‘Hey! I think that’s her, coming over the hill, isn’t it?’

  Liam squinted into the distance and then began frantically scrabbling with the camera. ‘Yep – that’s Han. Agh, lens cap!’ And he hurried to pull the cover off the camera before hoisting it up to his face and clicking as fast as he could.

  Hannah was feeling something strange. It was an icy tingling that was starting in her gut and spreading out, along her arms, down her legs. It was taking the ache in her back and encasing it in a cool jelly. It was circling the twinge in her knee, winding its way around and around until the joints felt like rubber. It shot up her neck and sent sparks flying from her face.

  She could see the finish line up ahead.

  It was euphoria.

  For a split second she felt as though she could turn around and do another lap, another entire forty-two kilometres. In fact, she could sprint it! But another idea was tugging at her, and that idea was slowly becoming much more appealing. What she would actually quite like to do was let her legs fold up underneath her and collapse, preferably into a cold swimming pool, with someone there to hold her head above the water so she didn’t sink under the surface and drown. Oh, and maybe someone else there to rub her feet – that would be nice too. A thought suddenly crossed her mind. She was remembering the rubbish she used to post on Facebook, the lies she used to tell the world when she was pretending everything was okay when it wasn’t. And she was thinking about what she could write on Facebook right now. Maybe something like, ‘Fuck you, postnatal depression, you’re no match for a girl that can run a marathon.’ Yep, that was perfect; it was about time she told the truth. She would have to remember to log on later today.

  Focus, Hannah! You’re almost there!

  As she crossed the finish line, two things happened.

  First, she heard a voice, a high-pitched voice, rising above the noise of the crowd, yelling out, ‘Go Mummy! Go Mummy!’

  Second she saw a face, behind Liam and Simon. A face she hadn’t expected to see at all – because, well, it was impossible for her to be there. But as quickly as Hannah spotted the face, it vanished once again, and Hannah was left to wonder if it was simply her imagination playing tricks on her.

  And that feeling of euphoria absolutely exploded from within as she finally stopped running.

  Afterwards they found a café. It had couches outside on the sidewalk with bright orange and red cushions. Liam watched his wife in awe as she ferociously devoured two plates of food. ‘So apparently marathons make you really hungry,’ she said with her mouth full. ‘Huh, who knew?’

  Gracie sat playing with sugar packets, her forehead creased with concentration as she tried to build a castle with them, and Simon entertained Ethan, bouncing him up and down on his knees and watching him gurgle with delight. Simon looked happy enough, but after a while, Hannah noticed his gaze wandering and she leaned across to ask him how he was really doing.

  ‘I’m okay,’ he said firmly.

  ‘Honestly?’ she persisted.

  He paused and then he shrugged. ‘Honestly, I think about her every single day. I miss her like crazy. But I’m getting there.’

  They stayed there late into the afternoon, until eventually Ethan fell asleep on Simon’s lap and the staff began to give them enough significant looks to indicate that they had been there for far too long. When they finally stood up, Hannah realised her legs had turned to jelly and they all laughed as she walked unsteadily away from the tab
le, with Liam supporting her around the waist. When her legs had finally returned to normal, she held hands with Liam on one side and Gracie on the other. Simon walked a few steps ahead, still nursing a sleeping Ethan, and Hannah wondered whether she should tell Simon what she had seen as she had finished the race, if she should just say, She’s still with you, Simon. Because when she had spotted India’s face in that crowd, she had been just behind Simon’s shoulder, and her arm had been casually looped around his waist, and she had been smiling – that comfortable, effortless smile that you wore when you were arm in arm with the person you loved. But then again, perhaps it was all in her imagination.

  EPILOGUE

  ‘Excuse me? Excuse me? Hello?’

  Hannah swung around and saw a petite, attractive girl with round blue eyes staring at her, looking slightly annoyed.

  ‘Oh sorry, were you talking to me?’ she asked in surprise. She was at Sydney airport, waiting in the queue to check their baggage. They’d just spent the weekend with Jack and Carol; Liam was waiting for her in the food court, giving the children their lunch.

  ‘Yes, actually,’ said the girl crossly. ‘Here, can you take this letter for me. It’s for a girl called Jess, she lives in New Zealand, works at the Gloria Jean’s on Park Street in Wellington.’ The girl held the letter out and tapped her foot impatiently.

  ‘But I’m not going to New Zealand, I’m flying to Melbourne.’

  The girl huffed irritably. ‘That’s not the point. You’re supposed to pass it on to someone else on your travels. It’ll get there eventually. Don’t you know how this works? It’s all over the Internet; this is how everyone sends their love letters now. It was started by some Indian girl with cancer or something. This one is from a guy called Ryan in the States.’