More Than Us

by Dawn Barker

  He didn’t answer me as he turned a granite boulder around in his hands, his arms trembling with

  the weight of it and tried to wedge it in between the space between the rows he’d already built.

  ‘One more week, Paul, and we’re leaving. With you or without you.’

  I spun around and walked off before he could see the tears falling down my face.

  Forty-Four

  Paul

  ‘Cameron, you’ve got a bite,’ I said as his line twitched. Instead of flicking his rod to try and pull the hook through the fish’s mouth, he was holding it with one arm while he was scuffing his feet back and forth, back and forth in the sand. He jumped at my voice, then went to grab his line but I already had. I jerked it, but the line went slack. I gritted my teeth.

  ‘Sorry, Dad,’ he mumbled.

  ‘You need to pay attention, mate. I’ve told you. This is important.’

  I was tired. I hadn’t been sleeping and since yesterday, when Emily had told me that she had decided to give up and go home, thoughts and questions and worries were hurtling around my mind. I no longer had the energy to try to persuade her, and I knew that meant that if I didn’t go with her, the marriage was over. The children were on her side and it was pointless to try and force them to stay. I knew we had to go. But I didn’t know what I would do when I went back. I didn’t know if I could continue to live with my family when Emily and I were so opposed. I didn’t know if I could trust myself to live a normal life any more. I didn’t know if I could survive if I had to live on my own, without my family.

  Cameron and I stood by the river, flicking our rods as our feather flies skimmed the top of the water. Midges swarmed around us. My hands were freezing in the rough, fingerless woollen gloves. I looked over at Cameron as he rhythmically flicked his rod. ‘Come on, mate, put some energy into it. Real insects don’t hop up and down in the same place. Think like a fly, or the fish.’

  He glanced at me, then looked back towards the water. I sighed. He’d understand, one day, why we were doing this. I jerked the line out of the water again. Nothing. I’d never been good at fishing. Emily said I didn’t have the patience for it, that I could never just relax. I tried to think like a fish, but all I could see was my shadow and Cameron’s bright red jacket through the clear water of the river and a cheap lure.

  The sun was setting, even though it was barely 5pm, and heavy clouds were blowing in from the west. I looked up at the twilight sky, darkening by the minute. The days were drawing in. Some days the sun barely seemed to climb up above the hills before it sank down again, and the wind grew icy. Soon, the nights would turn bitter, and the heavy grey clouds would burst with flurries of snow. We had grown used to living in the rhythm of the days, rising as the sun did and sleeping as the night fell. As winter drew closer I could almost feel my heart rate slow, conserving my energy, as if I were a creature getting ready for hibernation. I knew what the winter would be like, the almost perpetual darkness, the snow, the freezing temperatures, and even in the city, we’d spend our time cooped up indoors. I thought of our home in Sydney, and the long warm days filled with friends before the gambling ruined everything. Here we were, fingers red with the cold air, stomachs rumbling, exposed skin smarting as the sun slowly disappeared behind us. The midges swarmed around my face. Cameron pulled his beanie down over his ears and huddled down into the neck of his fleece, zipped up to his chin. The rain began to spit.

  ‘Maybe the fish will come out now, at dusk,’ I said. ‘To eat those midges.’

  ‘I hope so. Stop them biting me.’

  ‘Not as bad as mozzies though, eh?’

  ‘No, Dad,’ he said automatically. My shoulders fell a little.

  We both turned back to the river and flicked our rods.

  I said nothing for a minute or two, then quietly. ‘How are you going? You feeling okay?’

  I looked towards him and saw him shrug slightly.

  ‘You’re looking better.’

  ‘I’m fine.’

  I nodded.

  ‘Dad, don’t get angry, but are you coming home with us?’

  ‘Of course, I am.’ He knew I was lying.

  ‘Don’t blame Mum. It’s just that we need to go. I’ve got exams. If I miss them, I might have to repeat the year or something.’

  ‘Cam, I don’t want you to worry about exams. It’s not important.’

  ‘What about Mum’s job? And yours?’

  ‘Mate, don’t worry about adult stuff. We’re completely fine.’

  ‘Tilly’s not well.’

  I sighed. ‘She’s okay.’

  He spoke quietly. ‘She’s been sick.’

  I stopped flicking my rod. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘I hear her, she goes outside when you and Mum are in bed.’

  ‘She’s probably just going to the toilet.’

  He shook his head. ‘It’s more than that.’

  My heart was hammering in my chest. ‘Thanks for telling me, mate. She’ll be fine. I’ll sort it out.’

  * * *

  By the time we packed up and walked back to the light of the campfire, the rain that had started as a patter was soon a steady pour. The fire went out, and even if it hadn’t, none of us wanted to stand outside in it trying to cook. Inside, we ate tins of cold baked beans and a raw, soft, carrot each. I could feel the kids’ resentment towards me for bringing them here filling up the cottage with every exhalation until I wanted to scream. I wanted to cry. I wanted to run away. I wanted to tell Emily about what Cameron said about Tilly but there was no privacy and I was sick of it all. I had only tried to do the right thing for my children and, yet again, I had failed. The damp air crowding the bothy felt heavy with moisture and blame.

  There were no gutters on the building and after dinner, I sat on the edge of my bed looking outside and watched the water flow like a waterfall in front of the window. Emily was using the torch to read ‘Romeo and Juliet’ to the children. Above her voice, I could hear drips on the floor of the main room where the roof was leaking. In Australia, the downpours were always heavy but then they would just stop. Here, this rain was relentless.

  Soon, everyone went to bed. There was nothing else to do, and it was bitterly cold. I couldn’t sleep, though. Emily was in the bunk above me and I knew she was awake. I couldn’t talk to her about Tilly now without the children hearing. I could hear Tilly and Cameron’s voices talking to each other from the other room. I must have drifted off at some point, but woke in the black of night to the noise of the wind howling outside and rain crashing against the windows.

  The dripping from the main room got faster and louder. My mouth was dry as I realised that this bothy was the only thing protecting us from the elements. But, I told myself, it had been here for how long? At least a hundred years. Longer. It was built to withstand this weather. It was strong.

  I swung my legs over the side of the bunk bed, my hip aching from lying on the wooden platform. The cushioning from the heather wore out in hours and even though we tried to replace it every day, it was like lying on twigs. I unzipped the sleeping bag and peeled it off me. I was dressed, to ward off the cold, in socks and tracksuit pants, and a long-sleeved top. I felt on the floor for the head torch I kept there and walked out of the room into the main area to investigate the leak.

  I don’t know what it was that made me decide to go outside. I knew I wouldn’t be able to sleep, and I did need to empty my bladder. I also wanted to feel the force of the storm, just for a moment, so that I could reassure myself how warm and dry it really was in here. I opened the front door, grabbing it as the wind almost wrenched it from me, then stepped outside and pushed it closed behind me before the weather could invade the space.

  Outside, the chill hit me and I was soaked through within moments. It was dark; I had the sensation that I was stepping into a cloud.

  I switched the head torch on and heard a gasp beside me. Adrenaline surged through me and I quickly turned towards the noise. There, in the
circle of light from my torch, Tilly was standing with one hand on the stone wall, staring at me with wide eyes, her hair dripping wet, as she wiped her hand with her mouth. I looked at her feet; the rain had yet to wash away a puddle of her vomit.

  ‘Tilly,’ I said, stepping towards her.

  But before I could reach her, she turned around and fled.

  Forty-Five

  Emily

  I jumped as I heard the front door of the bothy slam, then Paul’s voice shouting above the roar of the rain outside.

  ‘Emily,’ he said, loudly. ‘Wake up.’

  Before I could come to, his cold, wet, hand touched my leg. I jumped.

  ‘Paul,’ I said, sitting up and trying not to bump my head on the roof. ‘You’re soaking.’

  ‘I’ve been outside looking for Tilly.’

  ‘Tilly?’ My heart almost stopped. ‘What do you mean? Looking where?’

  ‘She ran off.’

  He wasn’t making sense. ‘It’s the middle of the night!’

  ‘I know. I caught her outside, she was vomiting, then I startled her, and she ran off. I tried to run after her, but I couldn’t find her.’

  I jumped down from the top bunk, and grabbed my fleece that was draped over the end of the bed. ‘But it’s pouring out there. It’s been pouring for hours. It’s dark!’

  ‘Yes, I know that. I need your help, I can’t find her.’

  The panic in his voice cut through my own. ‘Let’s go.’

  Cameron called through. ‘Mum? Dad? What’s happening?’

  ‘Cameron. Where would your sister go? If she was upset? Dad said she’s run off.’

  ‘He knows, Emily, about the vomiting.’

  ‘Why the hell does everyone know about this except for me?! I take it that she hasn’t just eaten something that’s upset her? I take it that you knew about this and didn’t tell me? Do you know what can happen when people make themselves vomit? It’s so dangerous, Paul, you should have told me!’

  ‘I’m sorry, Mum,’ Cameron whimpered. ‘I’ll help.’

  ‘No way, Cam. You’re not going out in that. You need to stay here. Promise me!’

  He nodded, his face white in the torchlight. I stepped towards him and gave him a quick hug. ‘I’m sorry, Cammie, it’s just… we’ve got to find Tilly.’

  ‘The river,’ he said. ‘She likes to sit under the trees on the edge of the river. When she’s sad.’

  ‘Which trees?’ I said, staring at him. ‘Where?’

  ‘There’s a big fallen tree, it’s hollowed out and she crouches in there.’

  ‘I know where that is,’ Paul said.

  ‘Cameron, please do not move. We’ll be back.’

  Stepping outside was like falling into an underwater crevasse. I couldn’t see my hand in front of my face, and the torchlight from Paul’s headlamp did little to help illuminate the pitch of the night. The rain was pouring and the river was thundering. Gradually, my eyes adjusted, and Paul and I held hands as we braced ourselves against the wind and moved towards the river, our shoes squelching through the sodden ground.

  ‘This way,’ Paul shouted, pointing towards the left.

  I started to shiver as rain water trickled down the back of my neck. ‘Paul,’ I shouted. ‘What was she wearing? Please tell me she had a jacket on!’

  He turned back to me and shook his head. ‘Just her pyjamas.’

  ‘Shoes?’

  ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘Oh my God. She’ll freeze out here. We’ve got to find her.’

  Paul held my gaze for a moment, then took off at a faster pace. As we neared the river’s edge, I recognised the stone dyke. But something was wrong. ‘Stop, Paul,’ I said as my eyes made sense of what was happening. I looked in horror. The low wall, usually a couple of metres away from the banks of the river, appeared to be arising from the river itself. All around it, the water seethed and swirled. I looked to my left, upstream, to where the trees were. To where we thought Tilly was. They too were sticking up from the middle of the spate river.

  Paul stared at me with wild eyes, then dropped my hand and took off towards them. ‘Paul!’ I screamed after him. ‘Wait for me!’

  ‘Stay here! It’s too dangerous,’ he yelled, and then he disappeared.

  I started to follow him, but within moments the light from his torch had been consumed by the night. My breath was coming in rapid, shallow gasps. I turned around, the thin beam of my torchlight showing me only more darkness sliced by rain.

  Suddenly, from somewhere around me, I heard a voice calling me. ‘Mum! Mum!’

  Tilly?

  ‘Mum!’

  ‘Cameron!’ I screamed. ‘Go back! Where are you? Don’t come out here!’

  ‘Mum!’

  Why couldn’t he just listen to me for once and do what I said? It was hard to tell which direction his voice was coming from but I made myself take a couple of deep breaths. I had to stay in control of myself, otherwise I couldn’t help anyone. I turned around until the river was on my left again and waded my way through the muddy ground back towards the bothy until in the distance, I heard his voice a little clearer and then glimpsed a faint beam of light. ‘Cameron!’ I shouted. ‘Don’t move. Stay there! I’m coming!’

  It seemed like minutes until I reached him. He was sodden but I could see that he was crying. I couldn’t stop myself screaming at him. ‘Jesus, Cameron. I told you to stay there.’

  ‘The roof, Mum.’ His voice was thick.

  ‘What?’

  He pointed back towards the cottage. ‘In the kitchen, the roof collapsed. There’s stuff everywhere, I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know if I should stay in there or not, I didn’t know if it was safe.’ He was sobbing in between getting the words out and I grabbed on tight to him. He was taller than me, but still my little boy. My hands were shaking with cold and fear. Where were Paul and Tilly?

  ‘Are you hurt?’

  He shook his head. ‘Did you find Tilly?’

  It was my turn to shake my head. ‘Not yet.’

  Forty-Six

  Paul

  The water was pulling at my legs as I waded towards the tree, grabbing me like hundreds of hands reaching up from Hades to drag me down. I knew the area where Cameron had thought Tilly might be, but it all looked so different in the storm, and so many of the landmarks I’d become used to had been swallowed up by the swollen river. My voice was hoarse as I continued to scream Tilly’s name. Surely she couldn’t be out here? But how long had it taken the river to burst its banks? I had searched for her initially for at least half an hour, then gone back to the bothy to get Emily, then we’d trekked out here again. If she’d come straight here, it may have been before the water poured off the mountain streams into the river, already high from hours of drenching rain. Would it have happened gradually, so she’d have had some warning, or all of a sudden?

  I thought back to her face when she saw that I’d seen her vomiting. My poor little girl. The shame and fear on her face danced in front of my eyes. She would be weak, she wouldn’t have as much energy as me. She wasn’t eating properly, I knew that, and surely she’d be dehydrated and dizzy after vomiting. She had no fat on her to keep her warm. She was only in her pyjamas. I clenched my fists and punched my hand into my temple. What an idiot I’d been to take them here, to take this risk. We didn’t even have phone reception. No one knew we were here. I screamed again, ‘Tilly!’

  And then I heard something.

  Had I imagined it?

  A high pitched sound, above the storm, reached my ears. I stopped for a moment, trying to let the sounds of the rain fade into background noise. I heard it again. ‘Help!’

  ‘Tilly! Tilly! I’m coming.’

  I took the torch off my head and held it in my hand instead, moving it towards the direction it sounded like it had come from, but I didn’t trust that the wind wasn’t teasing me, swirling the sound all around me.

  ‘Help! Mum! Dad!’

  This time I saw her, standi
ng atop the wall, a tiny, stick figure waving her hands, screaming. There was water either side of her, but I could reach her. I would reach her.

  * * *

  I staggered towards the bothy, carrying Tilly, who clung onto my neck with a strength I have never felt from her. I could feel the bones of her back digging into my arms. My legs were as heavy as the boulders sunken under the river. The rain seemed to ease a little as I walked. I could barely see for the water in my eyes and they stung every time I blinked, but I still knew where I was going. It had been so dark for so long that I was sure that I could have walked blindfolded; terror turns every sense into its sharpest form.

  I blinked. Up ahead, towards where I thought the bothy was, I saw two lights. I closed my eyes and turned away from them. Was I hallucinating?

  ‘What’s that, Dad?’ Tilly croaked, her neck turned to look at the lights too.

  ‘I don’t know, sweetie.’

  ‘I think it’s a car.’

  It did look like the headlights of a car, but how could that be? I kept walking, and saw that it was. I heard a long, loud beep through the patter of the rain. It was the horn of a car.

  Then I saw two figures running towards us and I didn’t need to see their faces to know that it was Emily and Cameron. I began to run too, then Tilly let go of my neck and clambered down and ran towards her Mum. We were all racked with sobs.

  After hugging Tilly, Emily turned to me and held me tight. ‘Thank you. Thank you. Thank God you’re both okay.’

  I clung to her.

  When we let go of each other, I pointed back towards the car, which I could see was an old, boxy silver Land Rover. ‘Where did that come from?’

  ‘The ceiling in the main room, it collapsed. Cameron came to get me but when we got back, Jim was here.’

  ‘Jim?’