by Stacey Nash
She nodded as if taking his explanation on board.
‘What’s been happening?’
She sighed and fell back against the big chair. ‘Nothing—that’s the thing. I know I should’ve waited for the group session, but this is … well, I don’t want them taking pity on me. Is it normal to feel so lonely? I mean, since the gin shut its gates I’m just—I’m starving for company. I guess I don’t really have any friends and the people I thought were friends turned out to be just colleagues. Is that strange?’
‘Not at all.’
‘And now that the picket line has finished up, I find that I’m just at home all day feeling bad that I don’t have work and putting feelers out there to find something, but there’s no one to share the pain with. Or to share the boredom with. Not even anyone just to enjoy a cup of tea with.’
Morgan pressed his lips together. ‘A lot of things can change with an altered employment situation. You haven’t just lost a job, Elsie. You’ve lost regular contact with people you’re used to seeing every day, and that’s sometimes a hard adjustment to make. Are there any friendships that you’d like to maintain?’
She screwed up her nose and scratched at the worn tartan fabric of her skirt. ‘I don’t know. It’s just … I feel like I can’t maintain friendships. I don’t know—people just don’t like me.’
Morgan looked at the lovely girl in front of him with her hands twisted in her skirt and her eyes downcast. Everyone had their issues, and here was someone he knew to be a good soul, all crumpled up with self-doubt.
‘There’s a lot to like about you.’ He offered a heartfelt smile. ‘People just get busy, or so wrapped up in their own problems that they can’t make room for anything else. It’s got nothing to do with you, Elsie. It’s all about them. Take the chance, reach out to someone you want to be friends with, and I promise you the right person will come through.’
She glanced up at him through her lashes.
‘And you should think about bringing this up in the group session. You never know who might be feeling the same way.’
They sat out the rest of the hour talking about her attempts to find work. She’d picked up a few hours in the primary school’s admin, but only as a volunteer. When their time was up, she extracted black gloves from her bag.
‘I hope you didn’t mind me calling you about Hannah’s pop.’
‘Of course not. Thank you for that.’
‘She wasn’t in a good way at the funeral. She and Cooper were fighting, and I’ve never known those two to say a bad word to each other.’
‘The stress of the factory closing is affecting everyone.’ Morgan stood and moved to the door. Taking his cue, Elsie followed. ‘See you tomorrow.’
As he watched her leave, Morgan was reminded of the friendship she’d once shared with Hannah.
With thirty minutes to spare between clients, he opened his computer. Morgan’s fingers skated over the keyboard typing out one of the trickiest requests he’d ever made. Trinity was a hard boss, but she was fair. The proof was in the fact he’d been reinstated to the mill closure rather than left sitting at the uni wrestling with other therapists for clients.
His stomach churned at the message and he hit the delete button, holding his finger down until all the words had been Pac-Manned by the cursor, then he reached for his phone.
Trinity picked up after the first ring.
‘Banish Blue. This is Trinity Cartwright.’
‘Hi, it’s Morgan.’
‘Morgan.’ She sounded upbeat. ‘How did they cope out west without you?’
He looked up at the dormant ceiling fan. ‘Well, I’ve only been back a day, but if yesterday’s phone calls are any indication there are more people than ever wanting to use our services. Honestly though, these people need more help than I can provide in just a few weeks. There are just as many mental health issues out here as are in the city and because they’re so isolated, it’s harder for them.’
‘What are you trying to say?’ There was no mucking around with his boss. She may as well have said straight to the point, Harris.
He sighed. ‘Is there any chance of getting a permanent placement out here?’
‘I’m afraid not.’
Morgan slid his finger around the edges of his laptop’s screen. ‘There are no counselling services within a two-hour drive and even then, they don’t specialise. I’ve seen issues with alcoholism, depression, self-esteem, domestic abuse. These aren’t the type of things that are resolved after just a few sessions. These people need access to care.’
‘Morgan. I love that you feel for the folk out there, but we can’t stretch it. We’re a government service and by the time we got the approval and then the funding to set up …’ she trailed off. ‘Well, it’d be a few years at least.’
‘Right.’ He shut down the computer. ‘Thanks, Trin. It was worth asking, I guess.’
‘It’s always worth asking. I’ll see you in a few weeks.’
‘This stint will be up then?’
‘We’ll reassess the situation then.’
‘Okay.’ Morgan ended the call then sat there staring at the wall until Nash walked in twenty minutes later. Hannah’s request loitered in the front of his mind, along with the fact he was fully qualified to run his own practice. There was an awful lot to consider.
Chapter 32
Hannah couldn’t help herself. She’d lain in bed longer than she should have, smelling Morgan’s pillow like a stalker, then riffled through his clothes until she found the long-sleeved Adidas Tee she’d once seen him wear while jogging. So now it was way after the time she should’ve been out jetting those darn sheep and even later than when she should’ve been at the hospital checking on her sick brother.
She pulled the motel room door closed behind her and breathed in the morning air. The tang of smoke lingered. Hannah rounded the corner of the motel then walked into Cooper’s driveway. From the outside it looked structurally sound—well, other than the windows and door. The doorframe itself lay in a mangled mess on the threshold and the windows were all shattered. The damage seemed to be contained to just his townhouse though, thank goodness.
Police tape cordoned off the entry, but she still snuck up to the door and peeked inside. Black soot painted the walls. Twisted into a mess of melted plastic, the TV was worse off than the front door and the couch was little more than a charred frame. Puddles dotted the floor.
Hannah’s stomach turned; if she’d eaten at all since the room service last night she would have thrown up. Her brother was lucky to be alive. She was lucky to be alive. Turning her back on the reminder, she set off for the hospital with winter sun warming her back. She’d lost her scarf somewhere in the fire and had to discard her singed coat in Morgan’s bin. The thick fabric was completely unsalvageable. She wore only Morgan’s shirt and her favourite jeans, and even without a biting wind, her arms shivered from the cold air. At least she didn’t stink, she smelled deliciously like Morgan’s shampoo and body wash.
As she passed the bakery, Hannah spotted Elsie Sumners stepping out of the community centre and wondered if perhaps the other woman was the client Morgan had rushed off to meet. Elsie offered up a small smile as the two got closer. Hannah returned the gesture while rubbing her cold arms.
‘Are you alright?’ Elsie stopped. Her gaze roamed over Hannah’s dirty jeans then moved onto the fern-coloured men’s shirt.
Hannah nodded, even though she could have used some breakfast. She hadn’t wanted to ring up an account on Morgan’s room, and her purse was empty. Elsie touched her arm. ‘No really, Hannah. Are you alright?’
This time, Hannah didn’t lie. ‘Coop’s house caught fire yesterday.’
Elsie’s face crumpled. ‘Wow. That’s horrible. Is he okay?’
‘I’m just going back to the hospital now, but I think so.’
Elsie glanced over Hannah’s shoulder at the bakery. ‘Have you eaten, honey? You look like you’ve been up all night.’
Han
nah flushed with enough heat to warm a small room, because she had been up almost all night. Scraping a hand down her cheek to hide the pink, she said, ‘Ah, no, but I’ll grab something when I get there.’
Elsie frowned. ‘Come on, my shout.’
The offer shouldn’t have been so tempting, but her stomach growled at the thought of glorious food. Elsie raised an eyebrow. Hannah bit her bottom lip. ‘Can we take a raincheck on that? I really am eager to see how Coop’s doing.’
Elsie offered up the biggest smile. ‘Absolutely, and in the meantime, let me know if I can do anything. I hope you’re looking after yourself.’
‘Thanks.’ Hannah rubbed her arms again as they parted ways. There was something about the genuine concern in the other woman that made Hannah decide she actually would call this time. Elsie was kind. She always had been.
Hannah couldn’t help glancing up into the community centre as she walked past. It was that old habit she’d formed years ago—always needing just another glimpse. She ought to be ashamed of being such a creep. Morgan was nowhere to be seen though, probably hidden inside his allocated room. She grinned to herself as she kept on strolling down the street. Last night sure had been something special. Something she’d cherish forever.
The smile stayed in place until she hit the hospital corner, where she recalled why she was in town. Hannah rushed inside, stopping at the front desk to ask about her twin’s whereabouts. The admin lady pointed her in the direction of the general ward and Hannah took off like a bull at a gate, not stopping until she reached the nurse’s station in the west wing. A matronly lady glared at her from behind the desk, and Hannah slowed her pace then respectfully peeked in rooms until she found him alone in a shared room.
Cooper sat up in bed without the oxygen mask he’d worn the day before. A white bandage hid his left hand, and her mother was slumped in the chair beside the bed. His eyes opened and zeroed in on her. In three long strides she reached his side and Hannah stopped just shy of hugging him for all she was worth. Too many bandages wound around his chunky arms.
‘Heard you’re a hero,’ he rasped out.
Hannah thwacked him on the arm, but didn’t let go of their embrace. ‘Don’t ever scare me like that again. You could’ve died.’
‘I love you, too.’ His throat sounded like it hurt.
Hannah breathed him in. Cooper had been by her side since before they were born. If she’d lost him yesterday … she couldn’t even finish that thought.
‘Hannah?’ Their mother’s voice drew the twins apart. ‘Haven’t you been home yet, sweetheart?’
Hannah eyed her mother’s patchwork skirt and sky-blue cardie—the same clothes she had been wearing the day before. ‘Did you sleep here?’
‘Mmhmm.’
‘Where’s Jase?’
‘You just missed him, honey. He’s gone to see the accountant.’
An orderly popped his head into the room. ‘Tea or coffee?’
Cooper looked questioningly at their mother. She rolled the table to the end of his bed. ‘Would it be too much trouble to ask for two?’
‘Just don’t tell anyone I’m feeding the visitors.’ With a wink, the orderly poured two steaming cups of tea and plonked a handful of individually portioned biscuits on the tray.
After he’d left, Coop rasped out, ‘Can’t eat. Too sore.’ He pointed to the drip attached to his arm indicating he got his sustenance in liquid form for now.
Hannah gratefully grabbed a few biscuits and passed the rest to her mother. Plain dry Arnott’s had never tasted so good. She popped the final one in her mouth, waited until it was all gone, then turned to her mother. ‘What’s the verdict?’
‘They checked his oxygen levels and his blood pH again this morning. Apparently both are much better than yesterday. Still, they’re going to run another chest X-ray this afternoon to make sure there’s no delayed damage. If not, he should be discharged within a few days.’ Kate blew on the top of her steaming tea.
‘That’s good news.’ Hannah patted Cooper’s leg. ‘You’ll have to come home with us though. Your place is kind of wrecked.’
He grimaced.
‘Cooper.’
They all turned to the door where Sergeant Johnson loomed, his permanent scowl making even Hannah sit up straighter in her chair and place a hand on her brother’s.
‘I need to have a word.’ The sergeant looked from one woman to the other, but neither of them moved from the patient’s side.
Johnson cleared his throat.
‘Anything you have to say to my son, Sergeant, can be said in front of me.’
The officer licked his lips and extracted a notepad from his top pocket. ‘I need to take your statement about yesterday’s fire, Mr Burton. If you can tell me everything that happened leading up to the incident please.’
‘It’s hazy …’ Cooper stopped for a breath. ‘Can’t remember,’ he scratched out, ‘until I woke up here.’
Kate took the plastic cup from his bedside table and held it to Cooper’s mouth. ‘Take it easy, honey.’
He sipped at the water, a little of it dripping onto his white hospital robe. ‘Got home from work around four.’ He reached for his throat.
‘Can’t we do this later, Sergeant, when he’s more up to talking?’ Kate asked.
Johnson pursed his lips.
‘Don’t remember more,’ Cooper grated out.
The policeman stared at him for a long while. ‘You sure that’s all?’
Cooper nodded. Johnson glared. Cooper blinked.
Hannah shuffled in her seat, and Kate stood up and extended her hand towards the policeman. ‘Thank you, Sergeant Johnson. I trust you’ll get to the bottom of what caused this horrible accident.’
Johnson pressed his lips together, took the offered hand then turned to Hannah.
‘Miss Burton. I believe you witnessed the fire too?’
‘Not really.’ Hannah swallowed hard. ‘I just saw smoke and ran inside to get him out.’
‘I think we’re done here.’ Kate’s tone left no room for debate.
If looks were weighted, then the long one Sergeant Johnson laid on Cooper then Hannah should have pressed them both flat to the ground. When neither flinched nor spoke he turned on his heel and left.
Hannah wasn’t sure whose sigh of relief was loudest, hers or her mother’s. They both looked at Cooper, but he’d closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep.
‘Mum.’ Kate looked her way, and Hannah said, ‘The doctor mentioned something about chemical burns. How could that’ve happened?’
Her mother slouched back in the chair as if she too wanted to sleep. ‘I don’t know, sweetheart. Maybe when he’s better Cooper will remember more.’
Chapter 33
One of the things Morgan loved most about Mindalby was that it was small enough to walk pretty much anywhere you wanted to go. The warm winter sun beat upon his back and Morgan felt as though this day couldn’t get any better. He’d woken with the perfect girl in his bed, his clients were opening up, he had a paper bag full of delicious-smelling pastries and well … it was a glorious day. The only thing that could have made it better was a transfer.
He walked past the council chambers. Across the road, ducking out of the RSL, was the one person who could shake the sunshine right out of his smile. Morgan swallowed his old anger, replacing it with kindness just before Andy spotted him. Usually, when he sprung clients slipping up they pretended not to see him, but not this time. With a bottle-shaped bag under his arm, Andy stole across the main street.
‘I’m not drinkin’.’ Obviously lying, he stopped when he reached Morgan.
‘I’m not judging.’
‘You’d be the first.’
‘Look, I’m sorry about what happened to you after—well, after—’ Morgan swallowed. Words accurately describing the horror that had unfolded that night would send his client into a spiral. ‘Some bad shit went down afterward.’
Andy’s eyes narrowed.
‘I j
udged you back then, too. Look—’ Andy stepped back, but Morgan barrelled on. ‘I’ve always been close to the Burtons and for a long time I was pretty pissed about what you did. We were all stupid teenagers once and well … the past has moved on, so have I and so should you. Forgive yourself.’
Shuffling the bottle bag into his other hand, Andy nodded. He extended his empty right hand and Morgan clasped it.
‘Thanks.’
After his client left, Morgan walked up the ramp that led into the hospital and it seemed everyone was out taking advantage of the sunshine. Coming down was the town’s longest-serving cop.
‘Morning, Sergeant.’
Sergeant Johnson flicked his gaze away. ‘Can I have a word?’
‘Anytime. What can I help you with?’ Morgan moved the paper bag of pastries to his other hand.
‘You’ve saved me a trip, Mr Harris.’ He pointed towards a picnic bench on the hospital grounds. ‘I need to take a statement about yesterday’s fire.’
‘Oh, okay. Right then.’ Morgan stepped off the path, and the green grass sponged underfoot as he made his way to the chair.
Once they were both seated, Sergeant Johnson pulled out a notepad and pen. ‘What’s your number?’
Morgan told him.
‘Tell me what happened yesterday.’
Morgan recounted the story again—how he was in his motel room, saw the smoke and jumped the fence. How he and Hannah pulled Cooper free of the fire. The police officer didn’t interrupt, just scrawled down notes in his pad and finally, when Morgan stopped talking, he glanced up. ‘Thanks for your co-operation.’
‘No problem.’
He pushed up off the bench, and Morgan dragged both hands through his hair as he watched the sergeant walk over to a cop car and climb inside. As Johnson drove away, Morgan grabbed the paper bag then set off up the ramp and into the hospital.
Hannah saw him the second he entered the room, and her smile was like the sun. It welcomed him more than words ever could. She’d chosen his favourite jogging shirt to pair with her snug jeans, and she looked damn good. He strode right over to where she stood at her brother’s bedside and slipped his arm around her waist. Hannah looked up at him from the corner of her eye, and Morgan swooped in to land a solid kiss on her sweet lips.