The Shadow Behind Her Smile
Page 27
The doctor cleared his throat politely. “Mrs McDermott? I’m Dr Franklin. I’ve been treating your children since they were brought in. After giving Katy a thorough examination just now I've found what appear to be two small puncture wounds on her left ankle. The marks are quite distinctive and seem to indicate she was bitten by a snake.” Franklin paused for a moment before adding, “Unfortunately, there’s no way of knowing which particular species it was–”
“I don’t know if it helps at all,” interjected Rosa eagerly, “but I saw a brown snake in the backyard a couple of days ago.” She looked at Jane ruefully. “I went to get a shovel to knock it on the head, but it was gone before I got back.”
Jane acknowledged the admission with an unsmiling nod. “I’m no expert on snakes,” she told the doctor in a flat voice, “but the odds have to be pretty good it’s the same one, right?”
“I would probably agree with you,” admitted Franklin. “However, probably isn’t good enough when it comes to snake bite. I’ve swabbed the puncture site and sent it off to Pathology. The results will confirm whether or not it was a brown snake. Unfortunately, being only a small hospital, we don’t keep antivenin on hand, so I've asked the base hospital in Cairns to send some. That will take time, but by then we'll know exactly what we’re dealing with and will be able to administer the correct antivenin straight away.”
“Cairns is two hours away!” protested Jane, “Isn’t there something else you can do? She could be dead in two hours!”
“We’ll continue to monitor her, of course, and treat her symptoms as they arise, but if it really was a brown snake, the only effective treatment is the antivenin.”
“I’m sure she’ll be all right,” said Rosa, stroking Jane’s arm.
Jane snatched her arm away, snapping, “You don’t know that!”
“On the positive side,” said Franklin, raising his voice slightly, “Her condition is stable right now. Our main concern at the moment is her blood-pressure, but as long as that remains steady, I believe there's every chance she'll respond well to the antivenin.”
“If it arrives in time,” spat Jane.
Ignoring her outburst, Franklin moved on, “Now, with regard to Jack…”
Kate felt disoriented and disembodied. All she could see was a rainbow of flashing, swirling colours. She must be dreaming, but her thoughts were not the jumbled, disorderly impulses normally associated with dreaming; they were strangely clear and coherent. For instance, she knew today was Saturday, that she and Jack had met Heather at Holly’s store and spent every last cent of their pocket money on lollies and ice cream, after which they had gone fishing at that hard to reach spot only they knew about, hoping to catch a couple of fat barramundi to take home for Mum to fry up with chips for tea. But the fish weren’t biting and that had put Jack in a foul mood.
Jack...
There was something about Jack that niggled at her. What was it? She concentrated hard but it wouldn’t come to her. Instead, she became aware of the low murmuring of voices, loud enough to reassure her she wasn't alone, but too soft to be of any practical use. The swirling colours had changed from the warm reds and oranges of a summer sunset to the cooler blues and purples of a stormy sky. Did she always dream in such vibrant colour? She couldn’t remember. She was slowly beginning to feel more...grounded, as if she was a feather that had been floating high on the breeze, but was now resting back on earth, facing up to a wide, undulating sky. It was beautiful and mesmerizing, but she wished it would go away and let her wake up.
As if in response to her wish, the colours began to leach away, to be replaced by a growing darkness, unrelieved by even the faintest trace of light. What's going on? she wondered in sudden panic. What sort of a sucky dream was this? Everything had gone black as night. Blacker. Black as the inside of that cave they'd discovered, with all the bats. The niggling feeling returned and she started wondering if maybe it wasn’t a dream. In which case she should be able to feel her body, right?
Kate tried to open her eyes, but nothing happened. She tried to speak, but again, nothing. She thought she could feel her body, but it wasn’t responding to her commands. If she wasn’t dreaming, what was she? Unconscious? In a coma? Dead? Probably not dead, she decided logically; she realised she could feel her heart beating in her chest. Violently. Working much harder than usual. No doubt its extraordinary pounding was due to the stress of her situation, whatever that was. It didn’t feel right somehow; like it might explode at any second.
Without her realising it, the whispering had grown louder and clearer. She could make out two distinct voices now, although she didn't recognise either one of them. Despite this, they were a welcome distraction from the pounding in her rib-cage. She listened carefully, hoping to find out what was wrong with her.
“God, I’m bored!” complained a whining voice in her left ear. Kate took an immediate, instinctive dislike to whoever it was. “How long do we have to stay here?”
“As long as it takes,” replied a second woman, speaking into Kate’s right ear. The two women were apparently talking over the top of her. The second one’s haughty voice was displeased but resigned. “Until the brat finally passes on,” she added. “I know it's tiresome, but it will reflect badly on us if we don't stay until the end.”
Kate would have gasped aloud if she was capable of it. Passes on? Who was passing on? Not her, surely? She might not be feeling quite like herself, but surely she would know if she was dying!
“Well, I hope it doesn't take too long,” muttered the whiner. “When is dear papa going to get here?” she demanded. “I don’t see why we have to be here, when he can't even be bothered to show up.”
“He’s a busy man; he’ll get here when he can. The doctors say there’s a little time yet.”
“Well, in that case, I’m going to get something to eat. Do you want anything?”
“Dear me, no,” replied the haughty one. “Just the thought of hospital food makes me feel ill.”
“I’ll be back in an hour.”
Don’t hurry back on my account, thought Kate angrily.
“Well, I hope you’re pleased with yourself,” said the haughty woman. “You got your wish at last. You'll finally be free of us.”
Is she talking to me? Kate didn’t think there was anyone else around, so she supposed she must be.
“A thoughtful child would never put their family through an ordeal like this, so perhaps you could hurry things along and allow us to get on with our lives. This is really quite inconvenient. I had to cancel my manicure and reschedule my appointment with the interior decorator.”
Is she joking? I’m dying and it's inconvenient for her? Kate was bewildered and a little frightened by this new reality. Why was she was in hospital anyway? The last thing she remembered was talking to Nona in Heather’s kitchen. Why were such nasty people hanging around her bedside? A dead fish had more compassion than this nasty woman. If Kate really had been dying, this woman's bitchiness would have made her more determined than ever to live, just to inconvenience her for as long as possible.
Kate hesitated a moment.
Only one patient remained in the three-bed Emergency ward. Several hours had passed and despite the successful treatment with the antivenin – success being measured by the return of her vital functions to within normal ranges – Kate remained steadfastly unconscious.
Dusk had fallen, followed by the ominous darkness of full night. Things always seemed so much more hopeless at nighttime, and tonight was no different. Kate’s refusal to waken was worrying, even to the optimistic Dr Franklin.
“We’ll give her until morning, and if she’s still unresponsive, we’ll do some more tests. In all likelihood, her body just needs time to recover from the earlier trauma; I wouldn’t be too concerned just yet.”
Despite his comforting words, Jane could tell he was already concerned.
Jane had spent the last few hours alternating between Kate’s bedside in the Emergency room and the ward upstairs where Jack had been moved after the success surgery to remove the bullet from his leg. Emotionally and physically drained, she was in desperate need of a change of scenery. Stealing a few minutes to herself for some fresh air and perhaps a fresh perspective, she headed for the nearest exit and was shocked to find the sun had long since set. On some level, she had been aware of the passing time, but it took her by surprise to walk outside to lighted street lamps and the rhythmic hum of late evening.
It was tempting to find a secluded corner and give in to the tears that had been threatening to fall all afternoon, but she didn’t know if she would be able to stop crying once she started. Once the first tears began to flow, the chances of breaking down in front of the children became far too likely. Her family needed her to be strong, so strong she would be. Instead of crying, she lit up a cigarette, a far safer indulgence under the circumstances.
It was the smell of smoke on the breeze that led Frank to her. “I thought I might find you out here,” he murmured by way of greeting. “How are you doing?”
The concern in his voice threatened to eat away at Jane’s resolve, and she could feel the prickle of tears at the back of her eyes. Yet how could she tell him to leave when she so desperately wanted him to stay? His calming presence was exactly what she needed. “About as well as can be expected,” she replied evenly. “You know, you don’t have to stay, Frank. I promise I’ll call you in the morning and let you know how the kids are.”
“Don’t worry about me, Janie. You have enough on your plate.”
Jane averted her face, and blew out a mouthful of smoke. She couldn’t bear to look at his face, knowing she would see only love and empathy reflected in his eyes. More and more, she was coming to realise that rejecting him was probably the worst mistake of her life. “Thanks for bringing the boys in. I didn’t want to have to leave Kate and Jack to go and get them and they needed to be here.”
“Of course they did, and it was no trouble. You know I love your kids like they’re my own.” Jane felt his firm hand on her shoulder, drawing her toward him. “You don’t have to do this alone, Janie. Lean on me.”
Jane gave a small hiccup and the next second was clinging to him with every last ounce of her strength. She buried her face in his chest and inhaled the familiar, comforting odours of male sweat and motor oil, underlaid by the faintest trace of sandalwood soap. Frank held her tightly, supporting her while she sobbed in his arms, her bottled-up emotions finally allowed release. With a blissful smile, he buried his face in her hair.
The clatter of a metal tray, falling to the floor with a racket loud enough to wake the dead, brought Kate violently awake. For some time, she had been subconsciously aware of an unfamiliar environment – after all, hospitals are noisy places and have a unique, pervasive smell that is unmistakable, even to the semi-conscious. It came as no real surprise to find herself in a strange bed with an IV needle stuck in her arm.
So, she was in hospital, for real this time. Why, she had no idea. She felt fine, but no doubt there was a good reason for her being here. Raising herself to a sitting position, she examined her surroundings curiously. The overhead lights were off, but there was enough light from the adjacent corridor for her to see. The darkened windows confirmed it was night. A clock on the wall narrowed the time-frame even further, telling her it was 4.55am. Well, no matter what else was wrong with her, her body clock was working fine.
There were three other beds in the room, all of them occupied by sleeping bodies in varying states of restless slumber. There was something familiar about the shape in the bed beside her, but maybe she was only seeing what she wanted to see. She looked harder. No, it wasn’t her imagination; it really was Jack.
Sliding out of bed to inspect him more closely, she was briefly thwarted by the IV line, which allowed her to take only a few steps before going taut. She detached the bag of fluid from the bed pole and carried it across to her brother's side. A heavy weight fell away as she watched the steady rise and fall of his chest. She was surprised at the depth of love she felt right now for her annoying, selfish, annoying brother. Only he could manage to get himself shot by his best friend.
What was with that, anyway? Both Heather and Jack had been taught to treat guns with respect, and to never, ever fool around with them. How on earth did Heather manage to shoot Jack? And why did she look so guilty once she realised what she had done? As if she had meant it.
Kate shook her head, frustrated by her inability to figure out the answers to her questions. She wished her mother was here to tell her everything would be alright. Jane had the extraordinary knack of making her problems disappear, or at least of putting them into proper perspective, so they didn’t seem quite so daunting.
Kate’s stomach rumbled loudly as she continued gazing at Jack’s peaceful face. She was suddenly, ravenously, painfully hungry. If she didn't get something to eat soon, it was entirely possible she might die. There must be food around here somewhere, right? Satisfied Jack wasn’t likely to wake up within the next few minutes, she decided to sneak out in search of sustenance. She turned toward the door and immediately came face to face with her wide-eyed mother.
“Katy! Baby, you’re awake!” exclaimed Jane, barely managing to keep her voice to a whisper. She wrapped her arms around her daughter, hugging her fiercely. “I was so worried, sweetheart, but you look good! I can hardly believe it!” Kate allowed herself to be guided into the corridor and forcibly seated in a chair that was still warm from her mother's body.
“I was sitting here half asleep, when I had this sudden overwhelming feeling that you needed me,” said Jane, explaining how she had come to be right there when Kate happened to wake up.
Kate just smiled. Already things didn’t seem quite so bad.
Jane insisted Kate stay home from school the following Monday, just to be sure she really was as well as she said she was. She caught the bus as usual on Tuesday morning, but Heather was conspicuously absent when they pulled up at her stop. Thinking perhaps she was getting a lift to school, Kate waited at the gate until the bell rang, but there was still no sign of her friend.
It was the same on Wednesday and Thursday. By now Kate was both worried and annoyed. She didn’t know which was the more appropriate response, so she alternated between them both. If Heather was sick, then of course she was worried; four days off school meant there had to be something s
eriously wrong with her.
But if Heather was just avoiding her – and Kate was interested to know how she might have managed that spectacular feat without the collaboration of her normally incorruptible mother – then she was extremely annoyed.
Not knowing was driving her mad.
When no one answered the phone at Heather’s house, Jane agreed she could ride her bike out to the farm on Friday afternoon after school.
“We’ve been in Townsville all week and didn’t get back until late last night,” explained Heather when Kate finally tracked her down. They were sitting on her back verandah enjoying the respite from the late afternoon sun. “I was still tired this morning, so Mum said I could stay home.”
That didn’t sound like something Mrs Colacino would agree to, but it wasn’t so far-fetched as to be completely unbelievable. Heather did look tired, and Kate remembered her mother saying she was slightly anaemic. She could well believe it; there was no colour in her cheeks, and her movements were lethargic and ponderous.
“I’ve been wanting to talk to you about the accident,” said Kate at last, after eating a piece of carrot cake with lemon icing and washing it down with cold milk. Heather, she noted, nibbled at her cake without enthusiasm before eventually putting it aside. “I know you told your mum you don’t remember what happened, but… are you sure?”
Heather looked at Kate warily. “I knew you’d be suspicious. Actually, I do remember; I just didn’t want to have to admit to anyone how stupid I was, especially Mum.” She hesitated before confessing, “It wasn’t quite as accidental as I made out.”
Kate’s eyes widened. While not entirely surprised, she was still shocked to hear Heather admit it so readily. “You shot Jack on purpose? Why on earth would you do that?”
“I never meant to hurt him! That part of it was an accident.”
Kate was aghast. “But why?”
“It seems so stupid now. If I could go back, there’s no way I would ever–”