More Than Us

by Dawn Barker

  He shrugged.

  ‘And then he stopped them, and he got worse, and we just restarted them a couple of weeks ago and he was getting better but now this…’ I waved my hand around the room and tried to keep talking so that I didn’t cry.

  ‘Okay,’ she said, writing something down on her clipboard. She glanced at Cameron, then turned back to me. ‘I understand there might have been a mix up with the dosing? Are you happy for us all to talk together? What I usually like to do is to talk to the parents first, and then to the child separately, if that’s okay with you?’

  ‘No,’ said Paul, and took Cameron’s hand. His face was red. My heart pounded. ‘Cameron is old enough to hear everything that we all have to say about this. Look, I’m sorry doctor, but we don’t need your help. We will sort this out.’

  ‘Paul, she’s just—’

  ‘No!’ his voice boomed.

  ‘Dad, it’s okay, I don’t mind…’ Cameron had sat up straight and put his arm on Paul’s. His eyes were wide; I moved towards him.

  Paul closed his eyes for a moment. ‘I mind, though, Cam. Mate, we will sort this out. You don’t need to see a psychiatrist, you don’t need any of the medication that Mum’s been hiding in your drink.’

  Dr Karina frowned.

  ‘Oh, Paul, for God’s sake—’ I tried not to shout.

  ‘No, Emily, I’ve had enough. I’ve had enough of all this crap. No more. No more!’ The muscles in his neck were tense. I looked away.

  ‘If you’d just like to sit down, Mr Napier.’ Dr Karina was standing now, though she was barely as tall as Paul’s shoulders. Her head was tilted to the side and she spoke quietly, calmly. I noticed that she had moved slightly towards the door.

  Paul shook his head. ‘No, I’m sorry, I do appreciate your time, but we’ll be fine. Please let them know that we don’t need a psychiatrist. We will handle this ourselves.’

  Dr Karina looked at me and I could sense that she was checking that I was okay with this. Was I? No, not really, but what could I do? I glanced at Cameron; his eyes were darting between the three adults in the room and I felt myself deflate. He didn’t need this. He didn’t need the people who loved him pulling him in half. He was not simply a young man cleaved from off-cuts of us. He is himself; he is so much more than us.

  I swallowed down my protests and nodded slightly at the psychiatrist.

  She nodded too, then sighed. ‘Well, if you change your mind…’ She pulled open the door to the room and walked outside. The door closed behind her.

  * * *

  By the time I picked up Tilly from Ceecee’s and drove back to the hospital, I could barely stand up. My muscles felt depleted, and I could barely muster the energy to talk. I fixed a smile on my face as Tilly chatted to Cameron about how everyone was talking about the tackle and it was all over Snapchat and that even though he had gone off to hospital, his school had still won the final. Cameron asked what else they were saying. Tilly shrugged and her face reddened. I gestured to Paul to follow me outside the room.

  We stood in the corridor. ‘What will we do tonight?’ I said, quietly. ‘I need to get some food soon, but I can stay again. Tilly has school tomorrow.’

  ‘I’ll stay,’ he said. ‘You’re exhausted.’

  I was. I had lost track of when I had last slept and longed for a hot shower and change of clothes, a proper meal that didn’t come from the hospital canteen. I felt my eyes fill with tears. ‘I want to stay.’

  ‘You go home,’ he said. ‘Please, you stayed last night. Go and get some sleep.’

  I sighed, nodded. ‘Okay. Thank you.’ Suddenly I couldn’t wait to get into my bed, to pull the blankets up around my neck and close my eyes. ‘I’ll come back straight after I drop Tilly at school in the morning. I’ll be here by 9.30 for the meeting with the doctors then we’ll take him home.’

  Paul looked at his feet for a moment, then straight into my eyes. ‘I promise I’ll look after him.’ He turned to Cameron. ‘Say goodbye to your mum, Cam.’

  * * *

  The next morning, after a deep and restful sleep, I didn’t bother calling the ward to see how Cameron was as I was heading straight in as soon as I’d dropped Tilly off.

  In the car, I felt light. Cameron was coming home, and everything was out in the open now. But Till was sullen. She threw her bag and viola case into the car.

  ‘Why can’t I come too, Mum?’

  ‘Darling, he’s fine. You need to go to school. You’ll see him this afternoon.’

  ‘Why do I have to go? I don’t think the teachers are going to complain when my brother’s in hospital and coming home.’

  ‘Is everything okay at school?’

  ‘Fine.’

  ‘What are the kids saying?’

  ‘Nothing. I haven’t seen them.’

  I raised my eyebrows.

  ‘Nothing. I don’t know. Just some stuff on Facebook.’

  My heart wrenched. I thought of his body convulsing, the stain on his shorts. Surely no one would laugh about it? I swallowed, pursed my lips and tried to get the image out of my mind. Tilly staying away from school would fuel the whispers. Part of me wanted to insulate her from the licks of tongues hot with gossip. It would blow over, but I also knew that Tilly’s quiet, uncomplaining nature that I’d taken as stoicism was really self-preservation. She took it all in and locked those feelings tight inside.

  I chatted away as we drove, anxious to keep her distracted and to hurry to school so I could get to the hospital. Everything would be alright once we got home later today. After I dropped Tilly, I pulled into a café on the way and bought one coffee and one black tea, and three fresh muffins, then drove into the hospital car park.

  * * *

  In the lift, I watched the red numbers on the lift display change from G to 1 to 2 to 3. There was a ping as the elevator slowed. Oncology. I nodded slightly to the woman who took a deep breath and stepped out, blinking back my own tears. This is what I’d been trying to explain to Paul: it could be so much worse. I couldn’t imagine the horror of the parents walking onto Floor Three. They clung to each other for survival; they didn’t let their child’s illness pull them apart.

  The lift ascended again. It pinged at Floor 4, then it stopped. My stomach twisted a little as the doors hissed open. A woman pushing the breakfast trolley waited while I turned myself sideways and squeezed out into the corridor onto the Kookaburra ward. Neurology.

  I walked straight along the corridor towards Cameron’s room.

  There was no one at the nurses’ station on my left: nothing unusual. I glanced at my watch; I was right on time. I’d hoped to be here earlier, but Tilly wouldn’t finish her breakfast and had been difficult, and then the slipway queue at school had been busy, and then I’d slowed in the sludge of the Monday morning traffic. I snapped an imaginary elastic band on my wrist; I was here now. I wasn’t late; I wouldn’t look like the bad parent after Paul had spent the whole night here.

  I walked past the shared ward and turned right off the corridor into the Cameron’s room. I rubbed my hands with the sanitiser mounted on the wall outside of his room, hoping the alcohol rub would dry up the sweat on my palms. Taking a deep breath, and fixing my smile on my face, I pushed open the door.

  I stopped. His bed was empty. Had they gone for the meeting already?

  But the bed wasn’t just empty: it was stripped back to the mattress. The bedside table was bare, with no signs of his iPad or magazines or water bottle or bag of jelly snakes. My heart beat faster. Had he been taken to another ward? For a moment, I wondered if I was in the wrong ward, that I’d walked out of the lift on the incorrect floor, overconfident that I knew where I was going, and instead had emerged into a carbon copy ward a floor higher or lower. But no: the small whiteboard above the bed still read ‘Cameron Napier’, but otherwise, the room was empty.

  I entered the room, letting the door swing closed behind me, then walked into the ensuite bathroom, hoping I’d find him in there packing up his toiletries
, but it was empty except for a damp hospital towel crumpled at the bottom of a laundry bin.

  I hurried back out into the corridor. The muffled quiet of the room gave way to the sound of distant coughs and chatter, cries and chirps of machinery. I paused and listened hard, but couldn’t hear Cameron’s voice, or any sounds of him that I’d been hearing every day for almost fifteen years, not his footsteps, his breathing, his presence. He wasn’t here.

  I sensed someone stop behind me; I turned around to see one of the young nurses, Jasmine, her frown matching the one that I knew was on my face.

  ‘Oh,’ she said. ‘I thought…’ She stopped, her eyes darting towards the door of Cameron’s room.

  I followed her gaze, but the door remained closed. I looked back at her pale face, tilted my head to the side, and waited for her to speak.

  ‘I thought you…’ Her voice trailed off and as it did, my heart beat faster.

  ‘Where’s Cameron?’ I said, trying to keep my voice steady.

  ‘Paul said…’

  ‘Have you moved him already? Where’s the meeting? I’m here for the meeting.’

  Her eyes widened, and she looked at the floor as dread crept through my bones.

  ‘Jasmine, what’s going on?’

  ‘Come with me,’ she said, turning around and heading back towards the nursing station.

  I followed quickly. ‘Where is he? Is he okay?’

  Jasmine paused at the nurses’ desk and murmured to another nurse whose name I didn’t know. This woman raised her eyebrows and opened her mouth in a way that could only be interpreted as alarm, then saw me looking at her and closed her mouth again. She nodded, then bowed her head and Jasmine turned back to me. ‘We’re just paging Dr Chan to come and have a chat. He’ll be here as soon as possible.’

  ‘I’m just here for the meeting. Wasn’t it at nine-thirty?’

  Jasmine bit her lip then spoke. ‘The meeting was cancelled.’

  ‘Cancelled? But no one told me. Why?’

  Jasmine stepped towards me, gently, her hand raised towards my shoulder. ‘I’m sorry, Emily, we need to wait for Dr Chan, he’ll be here in a few minutes and explain everything.’

  I stepped back, my hands starting to tremble. ‘Jasmine. Where’s Cameron? Is he okay? Has something—’

  ‘Oh, Emily, Cameron’s fine, I promise. I thought you… Paul said you knew.’

  ‘Knew what?’ My chin began to quiver as I understood what had happened, who had cancelled the meeting, and why. I reached for the back of a chair. Paul. ‘When—’

  Jasmine was almost whispering. ‘First thing this morning. About two hours ago.’

  I had always thought, despite everything, that Paul loved Cameron and wanted the best for him. But now, for the first time, I no longer knew who Paul was, and I no longer knew what he was capable of. He had gone, and he had taken Cameron with him.

  I turned around and I ran.

  Twenty-Eight

  Paul

  When Cameron was newly born, I held his tiny body and looked into his eyes beneath his frown. ‘Hello, little mate,’ I whispered and silently, I promised that I’d do anything to keep him safe.

  Until you have kids, it’s hard to explain that clarity when you understand that it’s not about you anymore. You as an individual don’t matter, you only matter in terms of what you can do for your child, how well you can protect him and help him grow to become happy and fulfilled and independent.

  Until I went to Treetops and found Phoenix, I’d forgotten that. I had allowed myself to be pushed and pulled and put on a pedestal, poisoned by the modern world. But I’ve relearned that my life is insignificant. My mission is to teach my son – and my daughter – that there is another way to live.

  * * *

  Before we left the hospital, I turned off the bloody television that he was hypnotised by and leaned in to him.

  ‘Mate, I’m sorry that I haven’t been there for you.’

  ‘You have, Dad.’

  ‘No, I haven’t. Not enough. But we’re going to change that. I know you didn’t want to take the tablets and I’m sorry that your mum tricked you. That should never have happened. We just need to get away from this.’

  ‘It’s okay, Dad, Mum didn’t mean—’

  ‘Shh, mate, don’t make excuses. You don’t need to. You’re just a kid.’ I smiled and ruffled his hair. ‘Well, not quite, almost a man. I think we need to get away from here, take a bit of a holiday. I thought we could go somewhere remote, go camping. We can live off the land, catch our own food. How would you like to get away from all of this for a while?’

  He shrugged. ‘I guess… but what about school?’

  ‘Don’t worry. Doesn’t matter if you miss a few weeks of school. Cam, when you get to my age, you realise that what they tell you is important -- getting the best grades at school, exams, uni – it means nothing. Nothing. You’ll find your path, and all that is important to me is that you are happy. I’m sick of people telling you that there’s something wrong with you because you can’t concentrate when you have to sit in a hot classroom for eight hours. Mate, I hated school.’

  ‘Where will we go?’

  ‘It’s a surprise! I’ve found somewhere perfect. We’re going on an adventure. ‘

  ‘But Mum’s not here yet.’

  ‘It’s alright, I’ve spoken to her. She has to go to work and Tilly has some things at school to finish. They’ll hopefully join us soon but we’re going to have time together first, just the two of us. It’s going to be brilliant.’

  ‘But—’

  I held my hand up. ‘It’s all decided. We’ll be out of here in ten minutes and we’ll be on our way.’ In the car downstairs, I had packed us both a bag, and our passports were in my pocket. I’d drop the car at Damian’s holiday house up the coast where she wouldn’t look, jump in a taxi and by the end of the day, we’d be on the plane.

  I neither wanted nor needed Emily’s agreement. She had a made huge decision about him without me, and now it was my turn to try things my way. I knew my son too; I knew him just as well as she did. Cameron was no longer a child. He just needed to come away with me and we would work this out.

  Twenty-Nine

  Emily

  I paced outside the hospital and called Paul’s phone from my mobile: it rang out three times, then it went straight to his message service. Bastard. He’d switched it off. There was no point leaving a message; he knew why I was calling.

  I hurried back into the main foyer of the hospital found a payphone in the corridor of the hospital. Maybe he’d answer an unknown number. I searched in my purse for coins. Jesus, who carried coins for payphones these days? I slotted in a $2 coin, then pressed the silver buttons with a shaking finger to dial his number, but again, it went straight to voicemail.

  The doctors looked sheepish when it had become clear that I knew nothing about his discharge. They had no reason to stop him, of course. Cameron was medically well, and they didn’t feel he was a risk to himself or others, and he was with his father. They said I should have told them if I was worried. My fault again.

  I hadn’t been worried. I hadn’t imagined that he would take Cameron.

  Tilly. My stomach dropped with dread and I heard myself gasping and calling out her name.

  I took a sharp intake of breath and called her phone. It was off too. But they had to be off during the teaching time at school, that was the rule. And she’d be in class, quietly doing her maths or science, oblivious to all of this, wouldn’t she? Oh God, why hadn’t I let her come with me to the hospital today?

  I quickly scrolled through my contacts for the school reception number. Thankfully, the receptionist answered straight away.

  ‘Deb, hi, this is Tilly Napier’s mum, I’m sorry to call during the day, but I need to talk to her urgently. There’s been a family emergency. Would you be able to get her out of class for five minutes? I need to speak to her immediately. Her mobile’s off.’

  ‘Of course, Emily. Hold t
he line and I’ll get her straight away.’

  I heard the clatter of the phone being placed back on the desk. I tried to count slowly as I pictured Deb checking the timetable to see where she’d be then leaving the reception area and walking along the corridor or up the stairs and finding Tilly. It was taking too long. My breathing was quickening and I tried to slow it down as I felt my fingertips and lips tingle. Where was she? I stepped outside of the foyer, not taking the phone away from my ear. I needed some fresh air and I didn’t want everyone to see me when she came back on the phone to tell me that she’d gone.

  I heard Tilly’s voice on the phone. ‘Mum?’ Her voice was shaking.

  I managed to breathe again. ‘Darling, sorry. I didn’t want to scare you.’

  ‘What is it? What’s wrong? Is it Cameron? Is he okay?’

  I was starting to cry; I couldn’t let Tilly hear me like this. I sighed and tried to level my voice. ‘He’s fine, really, don’t worry. I just… have you heard from your dad?’

  ‘Dad? No, why? What’s going on?’

  ‘It’s hard to explain. Look, I’m going to come and get you. But listen to me: if your dad calls you or turns up at school before I get there, do not go with him, okay? Please, please, just wait at school and I’ll be there in twenty minutes.’ I realised I was already running towards my car.

  ‘Mum, you’re scaring me. What’s wrong with Dad?’

  ‘I’ll explain everything. Please don’t worry – I know that’s impossible but we’re all okay. It’s just that your dad has discharged Cameron from the hospital and I’m sure it’s just a misunderstanding. I’m certain that they’re both okay, you just know how your dad feels about hospitals…’

  ‘Where are they?’

  ‘Just put Deb back on, okay? Then go straight back to the classroom and get your stuff and wait at the office, I’ll be there really soon. I love you, darling. Just wait for me.’

  ‘I love you too, Mum…’ I could hear that she was crying, and I hated myself for upsetting her. No, I hated Paul for upsetting her. Maybe I shouldn’t have disturbed Tilly, left her at school with her friends, but what if he wanted her too? I caught myself in the instant that I thought that. Paul wasn’t a bad person; he wouldn’t kidnap his own daughter. Or would he? I never thought that he’d take Cameron without telling me, but he had.