by Anna Willett
“Damn it, Lea.” Even as she cursed the caregiver, she wished for the slam of the back door to signal her return.
Her thumbnail was ragged when she pulled it out of her mouth and checked the time. 4:19 a.m. Three more minutes and she’d call triple zero. She glanced at the wheelchair. Three, maybe four hops would do it. Sandy the physiotherapist made her walk twelve steps on the crutches. Could a few hops be that much harder? But without her knee cast for support, Belle had no idea if she could make it across the room.
Despite the chill in the air, Belle was sweating. She could feel the moisture on her back clinging to the thick cotton sweatshirt. When did I become so helpless? The easy answer was when a car came out of nowhere and rammed her off the road. But it was more than just the accident, although that played a part. Losing her ability to see and walk left her confidence in tatters. A small voice inside her said otherwise. The voice wanted her to believe she could only be confident and fearless when she had a few glasses of wine under her belt.
The back door clanged and Belle let out a huff of air. “Lea?” Instead of the carer’s voice, Belle heard only footsteps. “Lea?” She repeated the name and this time there was a desperate edge to her voice.
A shadow fell across the floor and Lea appeared. “Yes?” She strode across the room, her baggy green pyjamas flapping as she moved.
“Damn it, Lea.” Belle slammed her palm on the bed. Her frazzled nerves were stretched so thin, her mind was jumping. “Why didn’t you answer me?”
Lea kept moving, grabbing the curtains and pulling them open. “I didn’t hear you.” The girl’s long dark ponytail swayed as she turned her head back and forth as though watching something.
“What is it? Was there someone out there?” Belle was on the edge of the bed now, her good leg over the side, ready to hop.
“Yes.” Lea shook her head but didn’t turn around. “I mean no. I didn’t see anyone, but…”
“But what? What did you see?” Belle’s hand was in her hair, pulling it into wild spikes. “What’s going on?” Her voice was rising, reaching an almost hysterical pitch. She couldn’t take much more; her nerves were as jagged as her fingernails.
“Nothing.” Lea looked over her shoulder. “I just meant that if there was someone there, I didn’t find them.” She closed the curtains, shutting out the night and walked to the bed.
Her explanation had done little to calm Belle’s anxiety. Still holding the phone, she was weighing up the idea of calling the police. If she said there was a suspected prowler, they’d have to come and check it out. That might be enough to scare Arthur away. If it is Arthur.
“Do you want to use the bathroom before going back to bed?”
Ten minutes later Belle was back in bed, but any chance of sleep had evaporated. She lay back on the pillows and watched Lea turn off the bathroom light then settle the covers around her as though she were a child. She wanted to tell the girl she was capable of pulling up the doona, but bit back the words.
“Okay.” Lea scanned the room. “That’s everything. I’m going back to bed. If you need me, give me a buzz.”
Belle still had her glasses on. Taking them off made her more vulnerable and she wasn’t totally convinced they were safe. “Before you go, would you put my chair where I can reach it?” She hoped her voice sounded casual without a trace of reprimand.
“Why?” Lea’s face was placid, but Belle thought she detected a hint of annoyance.
For a moment neither spoke until the silence stretched to the point where Belle couldn’t stand it anymore. “Because I’m asking you to.”
Lea’s head came up and angled to the left. Her blue eyes looked less like a cloudless sky and more like a dark pond. For an instant Belle thought the girl would refuse, but instead she gave a slight shrug and brought the chair over, letting the wheels bump against the bedside table.
As the caregiver stood beside the bed, Belle noticed she was wearing sneakers. “Where did you look?” She’d meant to ask the girl when she came back into the house but had been side-tracked by the way Lea rushed to the window. It was the sneakers that prompted her memory.
“What?” Lea frowned and Belle noticed the girl’s eyebrows drew together like furious wings.
Belle spoke slowly, drawing out the words. “When you went outside, where did you look?” She knew she was being condescending, but couldn’t stop herself. As petty as it was, she felt like she was wrestling back some control over the situation.
“I checked the deck then looked around the lawn.” She reached back and ran a hand down the length of her ponytail. “I had a look near the trees on the right of the house, but I couldn’t see anything. Why?”
Belle didn’t know Lea well enough to know if the girl was telling the truth. Why would she lie? Belle had no idea why Lea would lie about checking outside, but something in the girl’s posture, maybe her shifting gaze or the way she played with her hair, gave Belle pause. If she had lied about checking outside, was she lying about hearing a noise? It made no sense for the carer to make up such a story. Suddenly, Belle wanted the girl out of her house.
“Okay.” Belle pulled off her glasses. “Good night, Lea.”
Chapter Six
Lea sat at the kitchen table, her toast smothered in vegemite and heaped with avocado. She ate with enthusiasm, munching through her breakfast with the appetite and urgency of one who had just completed a marathon. Belle couldn’t help wondering how the girl remained so trim with such a hearty appetite.
“You’re not eating.” Lea spoke around a mouthful, not bothering to swallow before speaking.
Belle sipped her tea without answering. Lea wore a navy shirt and pants almost identical to the outfit she’d had on the day before. Or maybe it was the same ill-fitting garb, only today she’d dressed the uniform up with a pale blue scarf wrapped around her neck and knotted at the throat. The morning sun, though weak, made the previous night’s drama seem like a lifetime ago. Some of the uneasiness she felt during the night had passed, but there was still something about the caregiver that bothered Belle.
Lea wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “After breakfast I’ll help you to shower.”
“No.” She sounded abrupt, but no longer cared. The last thing she wanted was for Lea to undress her and watch her struggle naked onto the shower seat. The thought of the slim young woman staring at her soft muscles and almost forty-year-old skin made Belle cringe. “Just help me onto the shower seat and I’ll do the rest.”
Lea dropped a corner of crust onto her plate. “If you slip, you’ll–”
“If I slip, call an ambulance.” Belle pushed away from the table and turned the chair in a tight circle. “I’ll get my things ready and meet you in the bathroom.”
By the time she reached the bedroom, she was panting. It had been almost a month since the accident, a month since she’d been able to swim her daily laps. How quickly her fitness had ebbed and her muscles had turned soft. But as the doctors were fond of telling her, it will take time. She pulled open the dresser drawer and snatched out clean underwear and a dark cotton tracksuit. Now that I can’t write, all I have is time.
With everything she needed, Belle moved into the bathroom. She’d made a decision while chasing sleep in the early hours: Lea had to go. As much as she’d hoped they’d find common ground, last night was the final straw. The girl was strange – emotionless and bossy. And, while her attitude bothered Belle, she could probably put up with her for a few weeks if not for the sense that Lea was dishonest. She pulled the phone out of her pocket and placed it next to the sink. Once she was showered and dressed she’d ring Guy and have him give her the agency’s number.
He’d think she was paranoid, maybe even try to talk her out of calling the agency. He’s not the one stuck in a wheelchair. It was a bitter thought, one that surprised her with its intensity. He hadn’t called. Maybe her dissatisfaction with Lea was amplified because she was angry with Guy. Angry because he left her alone when she needed him most and because
he hadn’t called.
She rubbed the area over her injured eye, her fingers moving over the fading yellow bruise. “I’m angry at myself.”
“What did you say?”
Lea’s voice behind her was a surprise. Belle’s head snapped up, catching sight of the girl reflected in a nearby mirror. “I… nothing.” Belle shook her head. “Just thinking out loud.”
Lea held Belle’s gaze in the mirror before letting her cool blue eyes wander over the array of lotions lined up on Guy’s side of the sinks. Belle waited for her to comment on the excess of jars, but instead Lea was all business.
“Let’s get you showered.”
The double shower unit had been set-up with a shower chair and stool so Belle could use the sliding hand shower while sitting on the chair and leave her towel and clothes on the stool.
Once seated, Belle waited for Lea to give her privacy, but the carer seemed reluctant to leave. “Are you sure you don’t want me to help you undress?” Lea jutted her hip, pinning the glass door open.
“Quite sure.” Belle’s voice echoed off the tiles. “I’ve done this on my own countless times.” The truth was she’d done it twice and both times it had taken an eternity to get her clothes off. “Just help me get this off.” She tapped the Velcro knee cast. “And I’ll be fine.”
* * *
Despite the effort of getting undressed, Belle held the shower head to her neck and felt some of the tension slip away. Washing was a difficult task, but the hot water on her skin worked like balm on blistered lips, soothing the aches and relaxing sore muscles and skin.
Taking care to avoid her eye-patch, she dowsed her hair and let out a long sigh. Maybe it was time to let go of her anger towards Guy. After all, she’d insisted he go. Could she blame him for following his dream? Leaning back, she shampooed her hair and closed her eyes. He probably had an early call on the set and couldn’t get to his phone.
She rinsed the shampoo away and let the water wash over her body one last time. Eyes still closed, she imagined what it would be like to be in the water again; the cold shock of hitting the surface and then the caress of the liquid on her skin.
“I see you’re managing okay.” Lea’s voice smashed through the tranquil moment like a hammer.
Belle dropped the shower head and the brushed-steel fitting clanged against the tiles. Shocked and naked, she grappled for the stool and grabbed the towel. “What are you doing in here?” She was shrieking and trying to cover herself at the same time. Water was spraying up and soaking the towel. “I told you to wait outside.”
She heard the shower door open, but without her glasses everything was a blur. Lea’s arm brushed Belle’s shoulder and the sound of rushing water cut out, plunging the bathroom into silence. A silence that was only marred by the sound of Belle’s heavy breathing and the last few drips from the shower.
“Here.” Another towel was shoved into Belle’s hands. She grabbed the dry cloth and held it to her chest. “You didn’t tell me to wait outside.” Lea’s voice was loud in the tiled cubicle. “You said,” she spoke slowly, enunciating each word, “just get me in the shower and I’ll do the rest. I didn’t know I wasn’t supposed to check on you.”
Shivering now, Belle saw no point in arguing. All she wanted was to dry herself and get dressed. “Okay.” She leaned forward, groping for her glasses. “Fine, just go and let me get my clothes on.”
“Here.” Lea slapped the spectacles into Belle’s outstretched hand. “Call me when you’re ready.”
With water streaming into her good eye and dampening her patch, she fumbled on the glasses in time to see Lea exiting the bathroom. Alone, Belle dropped her head into her hands. The situation with Lea was becoming intolerable. The sooner she spoke to Guy the better.
When Belle emerged from the bedroom, she could hear the caregiver clattering around in the kitchen. Trying to be as quiet as possible, she pushed forward and closed the bedroom door. Still reeling with embarrassment and shock from the incident in the bathroom, she pulled out her phone and called Guy.
“Hi, babe.” Guy’s voice, so deep and familiar, made her throat tighten with emotion.
“Hi.” Now that she had him on the line, she wasn’t sure what she wanted to say. I want to know why you haven’t called. Instead, she made small talk. “How was your flight?”
“Not bad. I got in so late I just crashed. Then they wanted me on set early.” She could hear voices in the background and something that sounded like a giant fan whirring. “I wanted to call, but I couldn’t get to my phone.”
“You don’t have to explain, I understand.” But did she? He was obviously holding his phone when she called. Why had he waited for her to contact him? “I just wanted to check in and tell you…” Belle wasn’t sure how to continue. “Tell you I’m okay.”
“That’s great, babe. I’ve been thinking about you. When I get back we should–” There was a burst of sound and his words were muffled.
“What? Guy, what did you say?”
“Sorry, they’re calling me.” He sounded distracted, impatient to get back to work. “Look, I’ll call you tonight.”
“Wait.” She could hear the desperation in her voice and lowered her tone. “Before you go, can you text me the number for the nursing agency?”
There was a moment’s delay before he answered. A second filled with noise and activity in the background. “Why? Is something wrong?” She could imagine him closing his eyes in frustration, wanting to concentrate on the most important job of his career, not her petty gripes with the carer.
“No.” She forced a laugh. “Everything’s fine. I just wanted to ask them about...” Her mind reached for a plausible reason to ring the agency. “Ongoing part-time help. You know, for when I’m almost recovered.”
“Oh, yeah.” She could hear the relief in his voice. “Good idea. I’ll text you the number as soon as I get a minute. Gotta go. Love you.”
Before she could respond, he was gone.
Chapter Seven
Arthur used an old tin mug to scoop birdseed out of the sack. He could hear the birds shrilling, their cries unmistakable and familiar to his attuned ears. They wanted feeding. He grunted, twisted the sack closed and secured it with a rubber band, then dumped the seed in a square container that once housed vanilla ice-cream. Stooping, he balanced the ice-cream tub under one arm and picked up the watering can. One of the things he liked about birds was how uncomplicated they were. Simple creatures wanting nothing more than food and water. Well, he supposed that was the thing about being able to fly, it made everything else seem unimportant.
The aviary had seen better days. Much better days. With its peeling paint and lop-sided roof, it was almost a small replica of the house, both dwellings in the winter of their existence. But Tippi, Rod and Belle didn’t care about fancy cages any more than Arthur gave a toss about the old house.
His long raincoat flapped in the morning breeze, and a tuft of hair, like a whitish-brown horn, stood up on his crown as he shuffled across the yard and opened the aviary door.
“Here you go, sweetie.” He smacked his lips together, producing a kissing sound, and tipped the seeds into the twin feeder. Tippi was the first to flutter over his shoulder and land on the pile of birdfeed in a flurry of green and red. “Now, you slow down and let the little one have her share.”
He glanced over at Belle, still small, her colours not as bright as her parents, but the little bird had watchful eyes. Soulful eyes. Arthur pulled a slender section of branch from the inside pocket of his raincoat.
“Here you go, my darling.” He placed the fig tree branch on the perch outside the roost. “Smells nice, huh?” Belle responded by opening her little beak and trilling. Arthur smiled. “I haven’t forgotten your water. And...” Arthur turned his head, nodding at Rod, the ever watchful protector. “I’ve got something for you too.” He produced a mandarin from his other pocket and held it up for the male bird to eye.
With the water tub filled, Arthur took a m
oment to breathe in the calming scent of chalk and honey. His birds had a distinctively sweet aroma. Rainbow lorikeets were considered pests, but no one could deny their splendour. And, as far as Arthur was concerned, they were pleasant company. Before leaving he stole one more glance at the chick. Little Belle was growing into a real beauty.
“Enjoy your breakfast, little one.” He knew he sounded like an old fool, but so what. The hatching of the chick was the highlight of his year and watching her grow was a reason to get up in the mornings.
With his birds taken care of, Arthur stowed the watering can and ice-cream tub back in the shed. He had things to do, but first a little nip of whiskey. Shivering and pulling his coat closed, he shuffled back to the house. Maybe two nips to keep out the cold.
An hour later and somewhat unsteady on his feet, he stood watching Belle’s house. As much as he tried and promised himself he’d keep his distance, he couldn’t get her off his mind. She tugged at him like a magnet. He should have learned his lesson last time. And what a lesson that was. Sacked from his post at the university, forced to scurry from the English building in shame. Just thinking about the way his colleagues watched him with accusing eyes made his vein-threaded cheeks burn with shame. Shame and anger.
From his perspective on the driveway, it seemed nothing was going on, but he knew better. The two women were alone. He’d kept a close eye on the place since yesterday and, except for the girl, no one had gone in or out. But staring at the building wasn’t enough. He had to get closer to really see the two of them.
He turned and ducked into the trees. The morning light made navigating the property easier, but increased his risk of being seen. Doing his best to hurry from tree to tree, he edged through the bush and moved towards the back of the property.
When he neared the fringe of the trees, he slowed and strained to see the deck. A few metres and he had a view of the back of the house, including the pool, deck, and lawn. He made himself comfortable, sitting at the base of a large silver gum. For now he’d only watch. But soon he’d move closer.