The Spill

by Imbi Neeme

  ‘Am I speaking to Nicole Cooper?’ a woman’s voice asked.

  ‘Yes. Who is this?’

  ‘My name is Maeve Roland and I’m ringing from the Royal Perth Hospital. I’m sorry to tell you that your mother, Tina, collapsed while taking the garbage out at her home and is now in a critical condition.’

  All the warmth vanished from Nicole’s body. ‘Critical condition? Why? What’s happened?’

  ‘The doctors will be able to give you more information. Are you able to come in straight away?’

  ‘Yes. We can be there in about fifteen minutes.’

  ‘Is it Tina?’ Jethro asked, when Nicole hung up. He had obviously read the situation as he was already putting his shoes on.

  She nodded.

  ‘Right. Let’s go.’

  ‘Let me just ring Samantha first,’ Nicole said.

  ‘Okay,’ Jethro said, although Nicole could see he wasn’t really that okay with it. He always thought Samantha added unnecessary stress when it came to anything to do with Tina. He was right, but she was Tina’s daughter, too, and Nicole needed her.

  Samantha answered after just two rings.

  ‘Mum’s in the Royal Perth,’ Nicole told her. ‘She collapsed and they’re saying it’s serious. Jethro and I are heading in there now. Can you meet us?’

  There was a long pause on the other end of the phone.

  ‘I’m . . .’ Samantha started.

  ‘You’re what?’

  ‘Yes, I’ll be there.’ And then she hung up.

  At the hospital, they found Tina in a stable condition and asleep. But any relief Nicole might have felt was instantly negated by the stern tone of the doctor.

  ‘The situation is very serious,’ she said, peering over the top of her glasses at Nicole. ‘Essentially, your mother is experiencing acute liver failure. Her liver’s cells are being destroyed faster than the liver can replace them and we may be past the stage where we can save her. How long has she been sick?’

  ‘I . . .’ Nicole strained her memory, trying to think of any sign that Tina had been sick. She hung her head. ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘You haven’t noticed anything?’ the doctor asked impatiently.

  ‘I haven’t really seen her much recently,’ Nicole found herself babbling. ‘She’s been so busy, working at the Vinnies and running the pub quiz night and, well, I’ve been travelling a lot with my partner. But we speak on the phone every week and she’s never sounded sick.’

  As she said it, she realised how evasive Tina had been over the last few months, always pulling out of social arrangements at the last minute. The few times they had caught up was at Tina’s house, with the curtains drawn and the lighting low because Tina claimed she was hungover.

  The doctor frowned and wrote on her clipboard, probably something about Nicole being a terrible daughter.

  ‘Don’t feel bad,’ a nurse said to her, once the doctor had moved on, no doubt to be stern with someone else. ‘People find all sorts of ways to hide the signs of their illness, like wearing big clothing to hide a swollen stomach, or using make-up to hide bruising or the yellow colour of their skin.’

  ‘Bruising?’

  ‘People with troubled livers bruise very easily.’

  Nicole remembered the bruises on Tina’s arms and legs that Tina had laughed off. ‘Clumsy me,’ she’d said.

  As she and Jethro sat by Tina’s side, Nicole thought of other ways Tina must have hidden the signs. She thought of the kaftans Tina had taken to wearing instead of her usual 1950s dresses, and all that foundation she’d started slapping on in the last year. She had joked that she was giving Celine a run for her money. ‘Mwah!’ she’d said.

  But it had just been smoke and mirrors. Tricks she was using to hide a dying body.

  After an hour of sitting and watching Tina, Jethro went to see if he could find them some food. He returned with sandwiches on a plate, cut into small triangles.

  ‘The cafe and the kitchen are both shut, but the nurses gave us these,’ he said, handing her the plate. ‘It’s your favourite: indeterminate meat and lettuce.’

  ‘I’m not hungry,’ Nicole replied, putting the sandwiches to the side. She picked up her phone to see if there were any messages from Samantha.

  ‘Any word?’ Jethro asked, sitting next to her. Nicole shook her head. ‘We could think about going home, you know. They said Tina is unlikely to be awake until the morning and the nurses can fill Samantha in when she arrives.’

  ‘I want to wait for Samantha,’ Nicole replied. ‘But you should go home and get some sleep. I know you’ve got that investors meeting tomorrow.’

  ‘That’s not important,’ he replied, grabbing one of the sandwiches. ‘I’m here for the long haul.’

  Nicole smiled at him gratefully. ‘Hopefully it’s not too long. I’ll try Sammy again to see if she’s close.’

  This time, however, her call went straight to voicemail. She left a quick message and then returned to watching Tina breathing in and out. She wanted more than anything for Tina to open her eyes and tell everyone to stop making a fuss.

  ‘I honestly thought Tina would outlive us all,’ she told Jethro. ‘I thought she’d definitely outlive Dad, who’s going to give himself a heart attack one of these days, worrying about the state of his car’s upholstery.’

  ‘She’s not dead yet, Nic,’ Jethro was quick to respond. ‘I think we should move her to the Mount tomorrow. I’ll find her the best specialist in Perth and we’ll sort this out.’

  But Nicole knew this situation wasn’t something that they could buy themselves out of. The sternness of the doctor had left its mark.

  The next morning, after Jethro left for his meeting, Nicole headed back to the Royal Perth where she found Tina awake, but weak. She was hooked up to oxygen, with tubes coming out of her nose.

  ‘Where’s the bar in this place?’ Tina said when she saw her, but her voice wasn’t her own. It was like one of those old lady cartoon voices, shaky and uncertain.

  Nicole couldn’t even smile at the joke. ‘You’ve given us all such a big scare, Mum. Why didn’t you tell us that you were sick?’

  Tina just closed her eyes.

  ‘Has Sam been in yet?’ Nicole and Jethro had waited until almost midnight for Samantha to arrive before they’d finally left.

  Tina shook her head, eyes still closed.

  ‘Well, we’re having you moved to a nicer hospital as soon as possible. Somewhere more comfortable. Sam will come and see you there.’

  Another day passed and Samantha still hadn’t come to see Tina, not at the Royal Perth, nor at the Mount after Tina had been moved.

  ‘It’s unlike Samantha to shy away from a crisis,’ Nicole remarked to Jethro, after another failed attempt at contacting her. ‘She usually thrives on this kind of thing.’

  ‘Is it really that surprising?’ Jethro responded. ‘She’s always had a complicated relationship with your mother.’ Nicole couldn’t argue with that. ‘Have you had any luck with Trent?’

  Nicole shook her head. ‘I’ve messaged and rung him but you know how hopeless he is with his mobile. He probably only turns the thing on once a fortnight. And whenever I’ve tried the home phone, it just rings out.’

  ‘Try calling him at work.’

  ‘Good idea, Detective Anderson.’ Nicole quickly googled the number.

  ‘Nicky! Whassssssuppppp?’ Trent said, after she was put through to him. ‘It’s been, what, six months since we last saw you?’

  Nicole knew it had been longer, but she didn’t correct him. ‘I’m trying to get hold of Sam. Did she tell you about Mum?’

  ‘She mentioned something about Tina tripping on the street and needing a bit of medical attention.’

  Nicole’s heart sank. ‘It’s more than that, Trent. It’s really serious. Her liver is failing and she’s dying. And Sam hasn’t been to see her once.’

  ‘Oh,’ Trent said, after a short silence.

  ‘I don’t think Mum’s going to be with
us for much longer. I just don’t want Sam to regret not seeing her. Can you please talk to her?’

  ‘I’ll do what I can,’ Trent said. ‘Leave it with me.’

  Nicole sat and looked at her phone for a long while. Samantha, the unstoppable force, seemed to have become an immovable object.

  Tina, in the meantime, wasn’t getting any better, despite the fancy hospital and expensive specialists. Nicole spent a lot of time sitting by Tina’s side while she slept.

  ‘Sammy?’ Tina asked, when she woke one time. She reached her hand out towards Nicole.

  ‘No, it’s me, Mum. It’s Nicole.’

  Nicole noticed how alarmingly yellow the whites of her eyes were.

  ‘Where’s Sammy?’

  ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘She’s a good girl. Not always the easiest girl, but a good girl.’

  ‘Yes, Mum. We’re both good girls.’

  ‘Sammy is a good girl,’ Tina repeated. ‘I made sure of it.’

  And with that, she fell back into sleep, beyond Nicole’s reach.

  The situation was hopeless. Nicole had been hoping to get Tina on the waiting list for a new liver, but was told Tina needed to stop drinking for six months to qualify. And even then, once she was on the list, the wait for a new liver was at least another nine months. The problem was, the doctor told Nicole, there was very little chance Tina would last long enough to even get on the list, at the rate she was deteriorating. It was as if her grasp on the world had loosened completely.

  Nicole was crying silently by Tina’s side when Jethro came in, holding a ridiculously huge bunch of red roses.

  ‘I just spoke to the doctor. I’m so sorry,’ he said.

  ‘I know,’ Nicole said, hanging her head.

  ‘I’m so, so sorry,’ he repeated, sitting in the chair next to her. He went to hug her but the roses were in the way. Nicole had to smile.

  ‘Red roses are Tina’s favourites,’ she said. ‘They must have cost you a fortune.’

  ‘What’s the point of having money if I can’t spend it on the people I love?’ he said, carefully placing the roses on the floor beside him. ‘Listen, I’ve been ringing around this morning and I’ve found another specialist, a miracle-worker, based over in Sydney. Maybe I can fly him over. Maybe there’s a private waiting list we can buy our way onto. Maybe—’

  ‘No amount of money is going to save her now, Jethro.’ Nicole felt the tears coming back.

  Jethro didn’t respond. He just wrapped her in his arms and for the briefest of moments she felt sheltered from her grief.

  ‘Has Samantha been in?’ he asked.

  Nicole sighed. ‘No. Trent texted me to say he’d tried to talk to her about it again last night. I think he’s done his best. She’s just not going to budge.’

  ‘It’s not your responsibility, Nic,’ Jethro murmured into her hair. ‘You’ve done your best, too. This is her decision. She’s the one who needs to live with it, not you.’

  ‘The last thing Tina said to me before she slipped under this time was about Samantha being a good girl,’ Nicole said. ‘I was the one who stayed, Jethro. I was the one who stayed with her, who looked after her, and yet Samantha is the good girl?’ She started crying again.

  ‘You need some more sleep.’

  ‘I need to be here.’

  Jethro pulled back and looked her in the eye. ‘You’re a mess, my love. You were here until late last night and back here at, what, seven this morning?’

  Nicole had come in at five, before Jethro had even woken. ‘I can’t leave.’

  ‘I know, I know. That’s why I’ve got us a room at the hotel next door. The nurses will ring us if anything changes and we can come straight back.’ He picked up the roses and stood up. ‘Let’s get these roses into a vase and then go to the hotel so you can have a nap. You need all the energy you can get to face what’s ahead.’

  Nicole nodded. She was too tired to disagree.

  The hotel was dark and quiet, but when she closed her eyes she imagined she could still hear the rasp of Tina’s breathing. Still, she fell quickly into a dreamless sleep, her body heavy with fatigue and worry, while Jethro worked from his laptop beside her on the bed.

  When she woke, three hours had passed.

  ‘You said you wouldn’t let me sleep too long,’ she exclaimed, leaping out of the bed.

  ‘The hospital hasn’t rung,’ Jethro replied. ‘I thought it best to leave you.’

  She hurried back to the hospital, but there was no real change in her mother’s condition.

  ‘Some more flowers arrived,’ the nurse told her. She was trying to make space for them next to the roses and all the other bouquets. ‘Your mum is very popular.’

  ‘Yes, she’s the life of every party, even the ones she’s not invited to,’ Nicole said. She noticed another bunch of flowers, small and slightly scrappy, that had been shoved into the same vase as Jethro’s roses.

  She pulled them. ‘Can you please put these in their own vase?’

  ‘Of course,’ the nurse said, frowning at the flowers. ‘Although we might be better just throwing them out. They’re a bit past their expiry date.’

  ‘Did anyone come and see my mum?’ she asked.

  ‘I just came on duty,’ the nurse replied. ‘But I can check with the desk.’

  ‘Don’t worry,’ Nicole said. She knew Samantha wouldn’t have come.

  She sat next to Tina and took her hand. She was the real ‘good girl’. She was going to have to see their mother through to the very end and she was going to have to do it alone.

  Samantha

  After Nicole finally left, I lay on the couch and succumbed to sleep. In my dream, I saw Tina lying on her hospital bed, surrounded by a sea of red roses. I reached out to take her hand when she suddenly sat bolt upright and looked directly at me. As she opened her mouth, all the machines around her started beeping and the medical staff rushed in to help her, pushing me away, out of the room and into the cold, dark corridor.

  I woke to realise the beeping was coming from the microwave, an indication that Rose was at home and awake. My mouth dry and my head thumping, I dragged myself up off the couch and into the kitchen.

  ‘Rose, is your car back from Simon’s?’ I asked her, deciding to ignore the fact she was eating two-minute noodles from a mug. For breakfast, no less. I also ignored her T-shirt, which said ‘HUNGOVER AS FUCK’.

  Rosemary nodded. ‘Yeah, it’s fixed.’

  ‘And have you got uni today?’

  ‘Semester hasn’t started yet. Why?’

  ‘Can you help me get my car?’ I asked.

  ‘Where’s your car?’

  ‘Cottesloe.’

  She frowned. ‘Why is it there?’

  ‘It just is.’

  ‘But why?’

  ‘I said, it just is.’

  ‘What’s that bruise on your arm?’

  ‘I don’t know.’ Samantha had a vague memory of someone, maybe the bouncer at the OBH, pulling her back from the road after she’d bought more booze and then spilled all her change over the footpath. ‘Look, can you help me or not?’

  ‘Can I drive?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘But we’ll be going in my car. I should be able to drive my own car.’

  ‘You know I prefer to drive.’

  ‘But you let taxis drive you.’

  ‘You know how I feel.’

  I held my breath and started to count to ten in my head in an attempt to push through the rising red mist. It was something I often had to do when faced with this fierce woman-child of mine, this beautiful bulldozer of a human being.

  ‘Can you give me some money for petrol?’

  I let the air out of my lungs. ‘Yes.’

  ‘Okay. Let’s go.’

  It was another clear, hot day. The air-conditioning in Rosemary’s car was broken so we wound down all the windows. At the lights, I stuck my arm out of the car window to see if there was a sea breeze, but the air was still and heavy
.

  ‘No Doctor today, then,’ I said. ‘It’s going to be a hot night. Are you working?’

  ‘Not tonight. I was thinking of going down to Freo with some friends. There’s a new club we want to try,’ Rosemary said.

  ‘What club?’

  ‘Can’t remember the name.’

  ‘Which friends?’

  ‘Friends from uni. You don’t know them.’

  ‘Will there be drugs there?’

  ‘What is this, the Spanish Inquisition?’ Rosemary said. She was her father’s daughter through and through. ‘I’m just going to Freo with some friends to a nightclub, okay? That’s really all you need to know.’

  I sighed as I changed lanes.

  ‘I don’t know why you’re sighing like that,’ Rosemary continued. ‘After all, you won’t tell me what you were doing in Cottesloe.’

  ‘If you really need to know, Aunty Nic and I were meeting with our Aunt Meg, Tina’s sister,’ I explained.

  ‘Oh, her. I met her at the wake. I didn’t even know Tina had any siblings. She said she needed to tell you something important. For the record, she was being a bit creepy about it.’

  I tried not to roll my eyes. Meg sure had been busy at the wake.

  ‘So was it actually important?’ Rosemary asked.

  ‘Not really.’ I wasn’t ready to tell anyone else about what Meg had said. I was still too angry about it.

  We drove in silence for a while. I could feel the sweat slowly sliding down my back. My headache was returning.

  ‘Mum,’ Rosemary said, her voice gentle now. ‘Why didn’t I see more of Tina when I was growing up?’

  I remembered the conversation we’d had with Tina’s cousin at the wake and how Rosemary’s face had flushed with embarrassment. Now was my chance to set things straight.

  ‘You should never feel guilty about that, Rosie. That was my choice,’ I told her. ‘Your grandmother wasn’t a bad woman. Well, not really. She was a broken woman. And I needed to protect you.’

  ‘She didn’t look broken when we went to her flat for her birthday that time. In fact, she looked like she could be a lot of fun.’