Caleb's Song

by Kathleen Ryder

  There was a knock on the front door, Gabby opening it against her parents’ wishes, to find Hank standing there, smiling warmly.

  “Hank, come in,” Gabby swung the door open wide, beckoning him in.

  “Gabby, no, thank you. I just wanted to let you know that I have issued all of the press personnel with trespass notices and moved them all along. I’m sorry that I can’t run them out of town for you”, Hank smiled, “I understand that they are all staying up at the caravan park tonight, possibly longer. I just wanted to let you know. I can post a car outside tonight if you would like me to, otherwise I can get the guys to drive past on their rounds, make sure none of the press tries to sneak back on to the property if you would like me to?”

  “Thank Hank, that would be great. Do you think it’s likely?”

  “Honestly? No, they seem to be content to wait it out until he shows his face again,” Hank gestures to Caleb, not sure of who he was or what the big deal was.

  “Okay, thanks Hank, we appreciate it,” Gabby showed him to the door, waving until his car and turned the corner.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  “You did this Caleb; it is your fault they are here in Beryl Creek. Are we going to have our photo’s on the cover of tomorrow’s newspaper?” it was a fair question.

  “No, Gabby, it won’t be on the cover of tomorrow’s newspaper,” Caleb took a deep breath before continuing. “The photographs will be in every single newspaper and magazine in the country, as well as on every single television network and news outlet, both locally and internationally. Not just tomorrow morning, but for every single day, from now until the day I give them a more interesting or scandalous story to report on. I’m sorry, I should never have involved you.”

  “No, you shouldn’t have. So here is what is going to happen now. You are going to fix this Caleb; you are going to fix this mess tonight. And then first thing tomorrow morning you are going to leave. I don’t care where you go or what you do, but I want you out of this house, is that understood?”

  “Gabby,” his voice sounded strained, hoarse. “Please, don’t do this, we can work this out, let me explain-”

  “No Caleb. I don’t want to hear any more lies from you. Every single thing you told me was a lie, every single thing. Don’t talk to me anymore.”

  Caleb watched Gabby walk out of the room with a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. He wanted to go after her, to chase her, to make her listen to him, but he knew it was of no use, she had already made up her mind. A part of him agreed with her. Maria and Nico watched him carefully, there was a sad expression on Nico’s face, a puzzled one on Maria’s. Caleb knew that he had to fix this, the Bianchi’s were good people, they didn’t deserve to be harassed by the press just because they had the misfortune to take him in and to include him in their lives for a short while. Caleb was resigned to what he had to do, but that didn’t make it any easier. Sitting on the sofa, he pulled out his mobile phone, scrolling through his contacts until he saw the familiar name, hesitating for a moment before hitting the call button.

  “Hello.” The steadying voice of his agent answered almost immediately, momentarily transporting Caleb to another time and place.

  “Tom, it’s Caleb, I need a favour.” It was a testament to how much people loved him, that when Caleb reached out to his agent, there were no questions, no demands for explanations, no admonitions. There was only concern.

  “Name it.”

  “I came up to Beryl Creek for a couple of weeks, to clear my head before, ah, Sam’s,” Caleb cleared his throat self-consciously, “memorial service. No one here knew who I was, or if they did, they certainly didn’t say anything about it. The only thing is, someone found out, a reporter at the Bradford last night. I was there with a friend, Gabby, the lady who runs the bed and breakfast that I am staying at. Anyway, her family and I have just gotten back to her bed and breakfast, and there is media camped out everywhere, all up and down the street, photographers, reporters, television crews, you name it, they are here on her front lawn. She has two little girls, a father who is sick, I don’t want this on the news, I don’t want anyone harassing them.”

  “I’ll take care of it.” As relieved as Tom was that Caleb had finally contacted him, he knew they had very limited time to get on top of the story. Any questions that he had for Caleb would simply have to wait, he had damage control to do, starting with a courtesy phone call to Caleb’s parents, Judy and Peter. Tom knew that Caleb had not been in touch with his parents for many months, and he also knew that if Judy and Peter saw this media circus on the television news or in the tabloids before they had been warned, they would be very upset. More than that, they would be distressed, worried for their son. Tom knew that their reasons for worry were justified, a part of Caleb had also died in the crash alongside his brother that night, and there were those in the industry who doubted that Caleb would ever fully recover. Tom had more faith in Caleb than that, which was why he had been so supportive in giving Caleb the space he needed, to heal, to mourn. Initially it had been expected that Caleb would take the rest of the year off, three months at most, but that soon became six months and then eight months, and now it had been almost a full twelve months. This had been the first Tom had heard from Caleb in months, and he chose to see it as a step in the right direction.

  “Peter? It’s Tom, I just wanted to let you know that Caleb has just called me.” Peter answered on the fourth ring, slightly out of breath.

  “Caleb, oh my gosh, I’ll get Judy, she’ll be so-”

  “Peter wait!” Tom cut him off before he could call Judy. As much as Tom loved Judy, she would be tearful, and he really didn’t have the time to allay all of her fears right now. “I don’t have time, I’m sorry, I wish that I did. Listen, Caleb’s got trouble with the press, I need to get off the phone in order to run interference, I just wanted you to hear it from me before you put the television news on later today and saw it, especially since you know how they make this stuff up”.

  “Is Caleb in trouble? Is he okay?” Tom could hear the desperation in Peter’s voice and was quick to allay his fears.

  “He’s not in trouble, he was just trying to fly under the radar and some paparazzi photographer was in the right place at the wrong time last night, that is all. He’s staying at a bed and breakfast out bush, apparently the lady who runs it has young kids and a sick father, Caleb doesn’t want them impacted. He is looking out for them, I think that is a good sign, he’s not alone, he’s not just in his own head anymore, he has let someone else in, and I think that is a good sign, a positive sign.”

  Tom finished his call with Peter and went to work. There was a lot he had to accomplish, and it needed to be done as soon as humanly possible. His first call was to the owner of the Beryl Creek caravan park, promising them that Caleb would personally mention them in his next big press conference, which was worth hundreds of thousands of dollars in advertising, if they would manufacture a reason to close their caravan park to all members of the press, effective immediately. Tom highlighted the spirit of community, unashamedly informing them that the family that Caleb as staying with, the Bianchi’s, were concerned about their privacy. That did the trick, Tom hearing from a disgruntled reporter that they were being made to move. They were all relocating to Bradford, the next town over, as everywhere else in Beryl Creek was booked out. Next, he called in all the favours he was owed by people in the entertainment industry, and he was owed a lot of favours.

  By the time his personal assistant was ready to head home, Tom had successfully brokered deals with the majority of the major news networks, newspapers, and magazines around the country and overseas, promising them everything from exclusive interviews with Caleb, high end gift baskets, set ups between themselves and other high profile celebrities they were hoping to interview, tickets to exclusive and sold out events, and, as he expected, a large number of I owe yous. In return, Tom was assured that none of the news networks, newspapers, and magazines that he contacted w
ould accept any photographs of Caleb, with or without Gabby and her family, for publication. Any news networks, newspapers, and magazines that did print them, would be taken to court by Tom on behalf of Caleb. Tom finished off his day by calling Caleb and letting him know that the issue had been fixed, that he could tell his hosts that they don’t need to be concerned with going outside the house anymore, that if Caleb wanted him to, Tom would appear in a local court tomorrow morning and apply for restraining orders. Caleb declined, he trusted Tom, if Tom said the issue was fixed, Caleb knew that the issue was fixed.

  Promising to talk tomorrow, Caleb disconnected the call. He made his way slowly upstairs, his chest ached, he idly wondered if he was having a heart attack. It didn’t take him very long to pack up his belongings, he hadn’t brought much to begin with. He debated about saying goodbye to the girls but decided that Gabby probably wouldn’t like that very much. He found Nico and Maria in the kitchen, and thanked them for their hospitality, apologising again for any trouble he might have caused them. Gabby was outside, unpacking the cars, ignoring him.

  “Gabby,” he touched her arm softly.

  “Don’t touch me!” She spat out, anger boiling over. “You don’t get to touch me.”

  “Gabby, please, I’m sorry, let me explain.” Caleb pleaded.

  “You deliberately lied to me. Even when I gave you the opportunity to tell me the truth, you lied. Everything you ever told me was a lie. And worse of all Caleb, you told me just now that you would never have let yourself be photographed with me.”

  “I know you are mad Gabby, but I didn’t mean that the way it sounded. I’m sorry. And not everything was a lie, in Bradford, that was the real me, the things I told you, they were all the truth.”

  “I don’t believe you Caleb. You used me, plain and simple. I was your way of scratching an itch. Well,” she shrugged, “I hope you had fun. Don’t you ever contact me or my family again Caleb. I mean it, no phone calls, no emails, nothing. I never want to hear from you or see you for as long as I live, is that clear?”

  “Gabby,” voice full of anguish, Caleb tried again to get Gabby to listen to him, to see his side of the situation. “I’m sorry, please, tell me how to make this right, tell me how to fix this.”

  “You can’t.” Gabby looked at Caleb, he could see the unshed tears in her eyes, the way her cheeks were coloured with embarrassment and anger.

  He knew she was right, but that didn’t make it any easier for him to watch her turn on her heel and walk away, walk away from him, back into the house. He watched her go, silently begging her to turn around, desperately hoping for a sign that she cared, that it wasn’t too late for them. She closed the door without a backwards glance. Caleb felt like he had been sucker punched. He couldn’t breathe. He did what he knew how to do best, he ran. Throwing his bangs in the boot of his car, he peeled out of Gabby’s driveway and accelerated down the street, not caring what speed he was doing, or if anybody saw him. He screamed out onto the highway, narrowly missing a minibus. It should have been sobering, but Caleb didn’t even blink. His head was a bad place to be tonight, and he ran as if demons were chasing him. Two hours later he was pulling into the driveway of The Aurora, too tired to continue on to Sydney, determined to forget all about Gabby and her family, determined to erase all traces of Beryl Creek from his thoughts.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Laughing, Caleb turned to look at Sam, his eyes twinkling. “See,” he couldn’t help teasing the other man, “I knew you would have a good time tonight Sammy.”

  “I always have a good time with you little brother,” Sam ruffled Caleb’s perfectly lacquered hair, deliberately squashing the rock star ‘ruffled fresh from bed’ style that Caleb had spent hours perfecting earlier that night. “But we can’t all be irresponsible rockstars now can we, Callie?” Sam used the childhood nickname he knew Caleb detested so much, knowing it would get a rise out of him. “Some of us actually have to work to earn a living!” It was the same banter that always existed between them, the ribbing and poking fun that was laced with the love that comes from being part of a family.

  “Work?!” snorted Caleb, “Ha! As if! You’re a partner in a law firm Sammy, how much work can you possibly do? Don’t you have a staff of people all waiting to jump to your command?” Caleb’s raucous laugh mingled with Sam’s deep chortle.

  “Staff? That’s your department brother dear, how many do you have now? Eighteen? Ninete-”

  “Watch out!” Caleb’s panicked shout interrupts Sam, and he blinks once, surprise etching his features. The unrelenting screech of bare metal tyre rims on bitumen reaches a crescendo before fading into silence, the world turning black, the only sound an incessant ringing.

  Caleb sat up, momentarily disorientated. He rubbed his hands over his face, looking around the room he found himself in. He had made it as far as the sofa last night, flipping through mind numbing television channels while he downed a beer. He must have fallen asleep, the television still on, broadcasting the home shopping channel. He watched for a moment, shaking his head and switching it off in disgust when he realised that he was actually considering buying the eight in one kitchen appliance that they were spruiking. His mobile rang again, he sighed, looking round until he found it, half squashed underneath the sofa. “Hello.” He snapped, not bothering to feign politeness. It was five o’clock in the morning for crying out loud, he had just endured a crap night sleep, so whoever it was that was calling, they had better have a good reason.

  “Caleb?” The voice was oddly familiar but strained somehow.

  “Yes.”

  “It’s Maria.”

  “Maria,” Caleb’s thoughts flew in all directions, Gabby, Lucia, Sofia. He was already standing up, reaching for his car keys. “What’s wrong?”

  “It’s Nico, he’s in the hospital, the doctors think he had a heart attack. It’s bad Caleb, they want to send him to Sydney.” Maria ended on a sob, unable to fathom the very real possibility of losing her husband of nearly forty years.

  “Which hospital is he in?” Caleb shut the hotel door and crossed to the elevator, impatiently pushing the down button repeatedly, even though he knew, subconsciously, it wouldn’t make the elevator appear at his floor any quicker.

  “Bradford. He is in the intensive care unit. I just...I thought you would want to know.”

  “Maria, thank you. I’m on my way, I will be there in five minutes okay?” Caleb disconnected the call, sticking his phone in his pocket as he made his way down to the parking garage.

  He hadn’t thought much beyond getting to the hospital to be with Gabby, but as he slid into the driver’s seat, he wished that he had taken the time to shower and change, to grab a cup of coffee and to formulate some kind of plan. He was starting to have second thoughts, sneaky little doubts were creeping in. He had no idea if Gabby knew that he was on his way, or if she did, if she even cared one way or the other. He was desperate to see her, even though he knew it would end up with her hating him even more than she most likely already did. He needed to see her, to hank her. She stopped his nightmares, he didn’t have any at all the night that they had spent together, not that it mattered, there wasn’t about to be a repeat, no, he would just have to get used to dealing with them again, that was all. He scrolled through his navigational system until he found the local hospital, adding it in and then choosing directions. Caleb pulled out of the parking garage slowly, half expecting to be swarmed by paparazzi, but found no one lying in wait for him, which was a relief, given his current bad mood, he didn’t trust himself not to run them down on purpose.

  He easily found a parking space at the hospital, which was bigger than he imagined that it would be and slipped on his sunglasses. He took the first available elevator up to the second floor, following the signs for the intensive care unit. He found Maria pacing outside the closed ward, Lucia and Sofia sitting quietly on the hard-plastic chairs.

  “Maria?”

  “Caleb,” she embraced him firmly, kissing his
cheeks distractedly.

  “How is he? Is there any news?” Caleb guided Maria over to the seats, gently pushing her down on to one next to Lucia and Sofia.

  “No, no one has come out yet. I have been sitting with the girls while Gabby spends some time with her father,” Maria looks at Caleb sideways, “she, ah, doesn’t know that I called you.”

  “Maria,” Caleb groaned aloud, “you should not have done that, Gabby will not be very happy with you at all.”

  “When is she ever?” Maria brushed Caleb’s concern aside. “I made a lot of mistakes as a mother Caleb, and as a grandmother,” Maria’s voice catches in her throat, “I thought I was doing what was best, I thought I knew best, better than Gabby, better than Nico. It is my fault he is here; it is my fault he is sick.” A sob breaks free from Maria, and she hastily rummages through her handbag in search of a tissue.

  “Maria,” Caleb sits next to the older woman and slings his arms over her shoulders. “There is no way that any of this is your fault Maria, no way at all.” Of this Caleb is certain.

  “It is,” she dabs her eyes with the balled-up tissue. “After you left last night, Nico tried talking to Gabby, tried to find out what had happened between the two of you,” she blushed slightly, “I mean, not the intimate stuff, of course, but...The other stuff, the personal stuff. She wouldn’t talk to him, she just tidied up after dinner and then went into the office to finish up some work.” Maria shook her head sadly and dabbed at her eyes.

  “I thought she was being petty, Nico told me not to interfere, but I wouldn’t listen. I went to talk to her. We got into a fight; it was pretty bad. Actually, that isn’t true, it was honest.”