Making Peace

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Making Peace Page 8

by Fiona McCallum


  ‘It’s okay. I’m not dangerous or anything. I was acquitted. Found blameless, not that it’s really helped.’

  ‘Oh?’

  ‘It’s the truck company – I’m sure you’ve heard of the accident Christmas Day before last? That’s why you’re here, right?’

  Hannah nodded. ‘Yes. I …’ She twisted her hands in her lap. ‘A very sad business.’ She swallowed hard. ‘Are you part of the company involved?’ Her voice was shaky.

  ‘I was. I got fired. Well, sort of …’

  ‘Oh. I’m sorry.’

  ‘Thanks. Probably for the best, though. I’ve lost my nerve. I was the …’ He caught Hannah staring at him. ‘Oh. My. God. You’re Hannah Ainsley, aren’t you? I’ve seen your picture in the paper and on TV. Good on you for not commenting. I am so sorry. Honestly, you have every right not to believe me, but it wasn’t my fault.’

  Hannah couldn’t speak, or close her mouth, or tear her eyes away from this man. Oh god. Her heart began to race. She put a hand to it and took a deep breath to try to steady herself. She wanted to get up and leave but she was too stunned to move. Her legs began to shake. She probably couldn’t stand up now if she tried. She took a couple of deep breaths. Realising her hand was still at her chest, she noticed that it was shaking too and forced herself to place it in her lap.

  ‘I’ve clearly upset you, which is completely understandable. I’m so sorry. I’ll go.’

  As he got up, Hannah noticed there were tears in his eyes. She felt her hammering heart stretch towards him a little. She felt light-headed, headachy, and slightly nauseous. She swallowed and bit her lip against the gathering tears.

  ‘No. It’s okay. Don’t go on my account. Please.’ She found herself reaching up and touching his arm.

  ‘Are you sure?’ She saw pain and heartache, but she also detected warmth in his eyes. Her heart slowed and Hannah felt herself calming.

  ‘Yes. I’m sure. Please sit down,’ she said, patting the bench and attempting to offer a warm smile that she suspected was more along the lines of a grimace.

  ‘If you’re sure. Because you would have every reason to hate me.’

  ‘But it wasn’t your fault, was it? And even if it was, hating you wouldn’t bring anyone back.’

  ‘You’re very understanding,’ the man said as he sat back down.

  ‘No, just realistic,’ Hannah said with a sigh. ‘You seem to be a decent person, so I’m sure you’ve relived that day often enough and beaten yourself up for it. You were injured too, weren’t you?’ she asked, remembering what Caitlin had said at the party. ‘How are you doing?’

  ‘Yes, I have. And, yes. It’s been a long, slow process, but I’m getting there, thanks,’ he said, looking down at the floor.

  ‘Please don’t feel guilty for being alive,’ Hannah found herself saying in little more than a whisper. And then she said a bit louder, ‘I’m sorry, but I don’t know your name. You see, I haven’t been following the story in the papers or anything. I figured what would be … Well, anyway …’

  ‘I think in hindsight I should have taken that approach too. I’ve done the opposite – attending court has become a bit of an obsession, I’m afraid. Henry Peace,’ he said, offering his hand.

  ‘Hannah Ainsley, which you already know,’ she said, gripping his hand firmly. She didn’t know what else to say and had only just managed to stop herself in time from using her automatic greeting. Saying, ‘Nice to meet you,’ would have been far too glib given the circumstances.

  ‘Thank you for not recoiling in horror, Hannah.’

  ‘I don’t think you’re a bad man, Henry, and others must agree with that too because you’ve been cleared.’

  ‘That’s very good of you to say.’

  ‘So why are you here? I wouldn’t have thought you’d want a bar of any of the legalities after fighting to clear your name. I’m guessing you had your fair share of official proceedings.’

  ‘Part of it is making the company’s big bosses look me in the eye.’

  ‘Oh, right.’

  ‘And, well, to be honest, I don’t really have anywhere else to be. I’m pretty much unemployed and unemployable.’

  ‘Just because you can’t drive trucks anymore – or don’t want to – doesn’t make you unemployable, does it? Surely you have plenty of transferrable skills you can put to use in other jobs.’

  ‘I’m a little lost, to be perfectly honest.’

  You and me both. But Hannah kept these words to herself.

  ‘I’m a bit of a basket case, too. I suffer from anxiety, depression, PTSD now. I’ve lost everything, including my marriage.’

  ‘I’m so sorry to hear that. I wish there was something I could do or say to help.’

  ‘Hannah you have no idea how much you just sitting here and not hating me means,’ he said, choking up. Tears filled his eyes again and Hannah’s heart lurched.

  ‘Oh, Henry,’ she said, and was surprised to find herself gathering him to her. Damn the butterfly or ripple effect, or whatever it’s called, she thought as she held him and felt tears of her own run down her cheeks.

  ‘We’re a fine pair, aren’t we?’ Hannah said, wiping her eyes a moment later when an embarrassed Henry had eased himself away and accepted the clean tissue she held out.

  ‘You know, you might just be the loveliest woman in the whole of Melbourne. Sorry, I didn’t mean that to sound sleazy. I’ve pictured meeting you over and over in daydreams and nightmares. And every time it’s been horrible. You’ve spat in my face, clawed at my eyes.’

  ‘How awful. I can assure you, I am not at all prone to violence.’

  ‘Thank goodness for that,’ Henry said, returning her gentle smile.

  ‘Have you had any lunch, Henry?’

  ‘No. I’m not very hungry.’

  ‘Me neither. But would you help me make sure mine doesn’t go to waste? There’s plenty for two not-very-hungry people,’ she said, taking out her lunchbox from her tote bag.

  ‘Ham, cheese and hot English mustard on grain bread,’ she said, unwrapping the sandwich and offering him half. ‘And an orange.’

  ‘Oh, this is good,’ Henry said after his first bite. ‘Maybe I was hungrier than I thought I was. Thank you so much.’

  ‘You’re welcome.’

  ‘How have you been able to put it all behind you so well, Hannah?’ he asked after they’d been silently eating for a minute or two.

  ‘I’m not sure I have, actually. I still have very sad days. But I’ve got a group of really good friends who always seem able to pull me up.’

  ‘That’s great. I did have some good friends. Well, I thought I did. Mainly workmates. But when I was arrested they seemed to stop wanting to know me.’

  ‘Oh, Henry, I’m so sorry. Sadly, during tough times we see the true measure of people. Did your wife leave too? Oh, sorry, that’s a bit personal. I take that back. Don’t answer,’ she said, blushing.

  ‘It’s okay. And, no, she was wonderful. She is wonderful. Louise. I left her.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘I couldn’t look her or my darling son, Felix, in the eye – I’m a failure as a man and a husband. They’re better off without me. I was too gutless to … you know … I’ve thought about it but … I can’t support them.’

  Hannah was shocked and didn’t know how to respond, so said nothing and nodded to indicate she was listening.

  ‘I’ve got to pull myself back together somehow before I can try and get them back. There’s no point if I still don’t feel worthy. That’s what my counsellor says. It’s a long, slow process.’

  ‘I’m glad you’re getting help.’ Hannah had never got around to seeing a counsellor herself – she’d found a catch-up with a dear, wise friend tended to do the trick for her.

  ‘That’s one good thing about being so badly injured – counselling was part of rehab. A silver lining, I guess you could say. Though, between you and me, the physical side of things is a damned sight easier to deal with than this other
stuff,’ he said, tapping his head with his finger.

  Having finished her half of the sandwich, Hannah proceeded to peel the orange, break it open and hand him half.

  ‘Thanks,’ he said.

  ‘So, what have you been doing with yourself while you’re not doing rehab and not at court – the case has just started back up, hasn’t it?’

  ‘Yes. I’ve got a small lawn-mowing round. I’d like to expand it, but it’s hard. It would be good if I could get it to full-time – I quite enjoy it – but I’m not sure it’s possible. The problem is I really don’t have much of a clue about running a business and I can’t afford to buy into one of those franchises.’

  ‘Well, as long as you enjoy it. That’s a start. And you seem personable enough. I’m sure it will build organically as word gets around. Actually, I have a couple of fruit trees that need pruning. I’m not keen on climbing a ladder and wouldn’t know the right place to cut. Do you do that sort of thing?’

  ‘I certainly can. Here’s my card,’ he said, bringing out a business card from his suit pocket and handing it over. ‘It would be my pleasure to sort it out for you.’

  ‘I don’t mean as a freebie, Henry, so please don’t think that. I’m happy to pay the going rate. You’re running a business, don’t forget,’ Hannah said.

  Suddenly there was movement around them. Henry checked his watch. ‘One-thirty. They’re heading back in,’ he said, but made no move to get up. ‘It’s been too nice talking to you, Hannah. I don’t fancy ruining it by going in there and listening to more of their waffle. It makes me so angry. And I’m not sure they have enough scruples to care about looking me in the eye. I think I’ve been kidding myself.’

  ‘Hmm. I’ve avoided it this long, I think I should continue to stay away from the case,’ Hannah said. ‘Perhaps I was meant to meet you, but not actually to go inside.’

  ‘I’m so glad you came and we got to meet,’ Henry said, gripping both of Hannah’s hands with his. More tears were gathering in his eyes.

  ‘Me too, Henry, but I’d better get back to work,’ she said, getting up.

  ‘Goodbye, Hannah.’

  ‘Goodbye, Henry. I’ll call you about coming to look at my fruit trees,’ she said, holding up his card.

  ‘And I look forward to being of assistance,’ he said. Hannah smiled as he nodded and pinched his fingers to the brim of a pretend hat.

  Chapter Eleven

  Hannah made her way back to work feeling distracted, so much so that a couple of times she almost lost her footing stepping on and off the footpaths. She got quite a fright when a turning car almost hit her and the driver had to quickly sound her horn. She waved in apology to the woman shouting at her to watch where she was going.

  Sitting down at her desk Hannah stared at the note from Craig stuck on the top of a stack of folders. She was to update some client files. Looking at the pile, she felt weighed down, as if he’d asked her to write a five-thousand word essay on a subject she’d never studied rather than an easy task she did regularly. She should have been pleased to have something mundane to do that required little processing while she gathered her thoughts.

  An hour later she’d got as far as opening the first file and then was distracted by the flashing cursor on her screen. She just couldn’t make herself concentrate, let alone go any further.

  ‘Hannah?’

  She was startled to look up and find Craig peering over the wall of her cubicle. She opened her mouth but no words came out.

  ‘Hannah, can you please come into my office for a sec?’

  She pushed her chair back, got up, grabbed the notebook and pencil that always sat ready on the side of her desk, and made her way around to his glass-walled office.

  ‘Have a seat.’ She did and then sat looking expectantly at him, notebook open and pen poised for instructions.

  ‘Did something happen at the court? The media weren’t there, were they?’

  ‘Sorry? What? Oh. Well they were, but they didn’t take any notice of me.’

  ‘So, what’s going on? You look like you’ve seen a ghost and you’ve done nothing but stare at your computer screen for practically the last hour.’

  ‘I’m so sorry. I’m a bit distracted.’

  ‘Yes, I can see that. And I’m not fussed about the lost hour of work, Hannah. I’m worried about you. What’s up?’

  ‘I met Henry Peace. At the court.’

  ‘I see.’

  ‘He was the truck driver that …’

  ‘Yes, I know who Henry Peace is.’

  ‘Oh. Right.’

  ‘What happened? Did he upset you?’

  ‘No, not at all. We shared my lunch.’

  ‘Oh. Okay. I wasn’t expecting that.’

  ‘He’s lost everything, Craig.’

  ‘So have you.’

  ‘But I’m okay. He isn’t. He’s lost his job, his marriage. It wasn’t his fault.’

  ‘What are you saying, Hannah?’

  ‘I don’t know. I just feel weird about having met him.’

  ‘Because you thought he’d be a monster or …’

  ‘No. I’ve never actually thought about him at all. I didn’t even know the driver’s name.’

  ‘Do you think you should take some time off?’

  ‘I just got back!’ Yes, I want to take time off, but I might never return. ‘Do you ever just wonder what the point is?’ she said, before sighing loudly.

  ‘Wow. Um, about what exactly? That’s a pretty big question, Hannah,’ Craig said, smiling sympathetically.

  ‘So much has changed, yet so much is still the same. It feels wrong. And weird,’ she said.

  ‘Yes, it’s all very unsettling. You’re not about to quit on me, are you? Because if you are, I’d rather you took some time out to think it through first. Not for me, for you. Though, ultimately, you have to do what’s right for you, Hannah. We all do. You’ve had a confronting experience today – whether it was good, bad or otherwise doesn’t matter. It was clearly unsettling. It’s going to take you time to process. It might be best if you at least went home now and sat quietly with the cats and let the dust settle.’

  Hannah nodded.

  ‘And, remember, Hannah, you’re not responsible for Henry Peace. He needs to do whatever he needs to do for himself.’

  ‘He just seemed so sad, so lost.’

  ‘I bet he’s feeling a whole lot better since meeting you, Hannah. You’ve probably made a huge difference to his life by simply being you. Now go on home before I go getting all soppy.’

  ‘You know, I think I will. I’m not being much use here, anyway.’ She got up. ‘Thanks, Craig.’

  ‘No worries. Hey, you’re welcome to come to dinner – we’re having beef stroganoff and I’ve even remembered to get all the ingredients,’ he said, grinning.

  ‘Thanks, but I think you’re right about me needing some quiet alone time,’ she said. Actually, there’s something else I need to do. Hannah had just that moment realised it.

  ‘Well, if you change your mind, we won’t be eating until seven. Oh, and Hannah?’ he said when she was at the door.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Don’t take it on. We all have to get our own shit together.’

  Hannah nodded and left, closing the glass door carefully behind her.

  *

  When Hannah walked up her street from the tram stop, she could barely recall the twenty-minute trip. Instead of going inside, she took her car keys out of her bag. If she went inside now, she might chicken out.

  Hannah drove carefully towards the cemetery where the funeral home had interred her parents’ ashes for her. She hadn’t been able to bring herself to visit before. She didn’t really know why she felt able to now, but she was determined to. She just hoped she could find their location okay. She kept saying the address over and over, having memorised the details included in the letter she’d received from Graeme at the funeral company along with a photo.

  Suddenly she found herself indicating a
nd turning the car left instead of right. And then she was turning into the retirement village where her parents had lived. She hadn’t been here since the day Joanne had been so kind to her and they’d become instant, firm friends. Joanne had made the task of going through her parents’ villa manageable. Clearly the universe meant her to visit Joanne now. Hannah almost laughed at the thought. Sam’s the one who looks for signs and believes in the workings of the universe, not me! Some moral support would be good, Hannah thought, feeling her conviction to go to the cemetery wavering. She should have thought this through and asked Beth to come along.

  ‘Hannah, hi,’ Joanne said, clearly surprised, as Hannah walked into the reception area of the retirement village. Joanne put down the pile of manila folders she was carrying and rushed over to hug Hannah. ‘Are you okay?’ she said, peering at Hannah while holding her hands.

  ‘Honestly, I’m not sure,’ Hannah said, trying to sound light.

  ‘Come in and have a seat.’

  ‘Are you sure you have time?’ Hannah asked as Joanne ushered her through to her office.

  ‘Of course. I have all the time in the world.’

  Bless you, Hannah thought. I bet you’d say that even when under the greatest of time pressures. Joanne’s calmness was catching. Already Hannah felt better.

  ‘So, what’s up?’ Joanne asked.

  ‘I didn’t mean to come here. I was actually on my way to the cemetery to see Mum and Dad’s plaques. I haven’t seen them yet.’

  ‘Oh, well, you probably shouldn’t do that alone – not the first time. You should have said.’

  ‘It wasn’t planned. I’ve been avoiding it, as you know …’

  ‘Yes. So, why now? What’s up, Hannah?’

  ‘I went to the court today – the truck company’s case is back on.’

  ‘Oh. How was it?’

  ‘They were on a lunch break.’

  ‘Well, good on you for at least having the courage to go. That’s a big step, Hannah.’

  ‘I met Henry Peace. The driver,’ she said.

  ‘Really? And …?’

  ‘He seemed nice enough, though he’s pretty messed up.’

  ‘What did he say?’

  ‘Sorry. And that it wasn’t his fault.’

 

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