Fractured

by Barker, Dawn

  Ten minutes later, Dr Fraser came out of her room with a patient and walked over to reception. Her long string of brown beads clacked and bounced on the desk. The receptionist raised her thin, over-plucked eyebrows and nodded at Tony as she whispered to the doctor. The GP nodded, fixed a smile on her face then pulled her shoulders back. ‘Tony Patton?’

  ‘Yes.’ He stood up slowly, straightened his t-shirt and followed her into her room. He was going to stay calm.

  Dr Fraser closed the door behind her, then pulled her chair out from behind the desk so that she sat between him and the door. She smiled at him again, and gestured to a chair. ‘Please sit down. What can I do for you today?’

  Tony heard the slight quiver in her voice and knew she was worried. He had been right to come here; she knew she’d done something wrong.

  He sat down. ‘I’m here about my wife, Anna Patton. Do you know who I mean?’

  Dr Fraser’s eyes dropped. ‘Yes, of course, I heard. The hospital contacted me. Mr Patton, I’m so sorry about your loss, it really is a tragedy.’

  ‘That’s one way of looking at it,’ he said evenly. He waited. Dr Fraser looked at him, waiting too. Tony knew he had the upper hand here. ‘So, what I need to know is, what did Anna say to you when she was here?’

  ‘I’m so sorry but I can’t discuss that with you, I’m bound by doctor–patient confidentiality —’

  ‘Doctor–patient confidentiality? You’ve got to be joking. My wife is locked up in a mental ward after killing my baby, and you can’t discuss her with me? She has to go to court and probably jail, it’s all over the papers and half of Sydney knows about it, but you can’t tell me, her husband, what she said when she came here right before she did it?’ He realised it was the first time he had said out loud that she had done it, that Anna had killed Jack.

  Dr Fraser shook her head. ‘I’m sorry, I can’t. I can assure you, Mr Patton, that there was absolutely no indication that something like this would happen. My notes will probably be subpoenaed by the court, but there is a process and I’m afraid I can’t tell you the details of that consultation. But I’m happy to hear what you’ve got to say, to talk to you about your experiences …’

  He sat forward. She was so bloody patronising. ‘What experiences would you like me to talk about? Identifying my son’s body? Watching my wife being led away by police, or maybe seeing her screaming, being held down and having a needle stabbed into her? You think I’m here to talk to you about that?’ His voice shook and tears began to fall. He wiped his eyes; he didn’t want to look weak, he needed her to admit that she was partly to blame. It wasn’t all Anna’s fault. He swallowed, composed himself, then pointed his finger at Dr Fraser. ‘Anna came to see you for help. I knew there was something wrong – even she knew. You were meant to help her!’

  Dr Fraser pushed her chair back slightly and held her hands out in front of her. ‘Please, Mr Patton, I need you to calm down. I know how terrible and confusing this is for you, and I know that you must want answers.’ Her voice was trembling. ‘But I can’t talk to you when you’re like this.’

  Suddenly the phone on her desk rang. She kept her hands up in front of her. ‘I’m going to have to answer that.’ She slowly moved her left hand towards the receiver.

  He gripped the arms of his chair, trying to stop the shaking in his hands. He no longer knew if the trembling was from anger or grief.

  ‘Yes,’ Dr Fraser said. ‘Thank you, I’ll be right out.’ She gently replaced the receiver and kept her voice soft. ‘I’m just going to step out of the office for a second, OK?’

  Tony knew that Dr Fraser had organised for the receptionist to call if she heard shouting, or after a few minutes to give her an excuse to get away. What was he doing? He wasn’t trying to intimidate her, that wasn’t him. But he had such a rage inside him at times, a sense of injustice, a need for someone to blame. He needed Dr Fraser to understand her role in this, to understand what his family was going through.

  He tried to talk without his voice faltering. ‘Are you frightened of me? I’m not here to …’ He shook his head, then looked her straight in the eye. ‘Just imagine that fear you’re feeling now, but multiplied a million times. Imagine how I felt when I couldn’t find them. Imagine how Jack felt when …’ He couldn’t breathe properly; standing up he pointed his finger at her. ‘Anna asked for help and you gave her nothing.’

  Before Dr Fraser could reply, he wrenched open the door. He didn’t care when it slammed into the wall, or that everyone in the waiting room stared. He looked straight ahead and stormed out into the mall. He ran down the escalators, past a group of chatting teenagers who didn’t seem to understand the concept of keeping to the left with their oversized bags of crap. His face was burning and his eyes were wet, but he made it back to the car. He managed to unlock it and clamber inside, then he pulled his arm back and slammed his fist into the windscreen. He yelled from the pain, then looked at the blood that seeped from a cut between his knuckles. He shook his hand, and the throbbing intensified. The scary thing was that it felt good. It was something real; there would be a bruise there later, something that he, and everyone else, could see. People could understand physical pain; they knew what to say and do. But no one could understand the agony of his situation, and no one could say or do anything to help.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  Three weeks after

  Monday, 5 October 2009

  Ursula heard the front door open just as she finished putting on her lipstick. She opened the bathroom door. ‘Jim! That’ll be Tony. I’ll be right out.’ She sprayed on some perfume, then switched off the light and went into the living room. Jim and Tony were each holding a bottle of beer.

  ‘I’m driving, I suppose?’ she said, nodding towards the drinks.

  ‘You never have more than one glass of wine, Mum.’

  ‘Well, maybe I wanted to tonight.’ Ursula gave Tony a surreptitious once-over; his t-shirt was crumpled, and he hadn’t shaved. He had a defiant look in his eye, the look of a rebellious teenager. At least Jim had showered and put on a shirt.

  Jim walked over to Ursula and put his arm around her. ‘You’re the best taxi driver we know. Unless you want some of my beer?’ He winked at Ursula and held up his bottle.

  She wrinkled her nose. She knew she shouldn’t be angry at him for trying to break the tension; he’d been trying so hard recently to cheer her up, but it only made her more irritated. She was sick of playing games, of pretending to be calm and understanding. It would be easier if they could all scream and brand each other with blame. She knew she was angry: angry at Anna for bringing this on her family, angry at Tony for not confiding in her, angry at Jim for not supporting her. He always let her look like the bad one, the critical one, while he behaved more like a mate than a father. She sighed; maybe, after all, that’s what Tony needed right now, a mate. Anyway, Jim had been like that for thirty years, why would he change now? They’d always had a tacit understanding that she managed the family while Jim stood back and let her. But sometimes she wished she had married someone more like herself.

  Tony raised his bottle to his mouth and Ursula gasped. ‘Anthony! Your hand!’ Tony looked at his right hand as if he’d only just noticed that his knuckles were swollen and red. She rushed over, took his beer from him and put it on the floor, then opened out his fingers.

  ‘Mum! Let go!’ He pulled his hand away, glaring at her.

  ‘Don’t tell me you’ve been in a fight? For God’s sake.’

  ‘It’s nothing.’ He picked up the bottle again and took a step back.

  ‘Jim, have you seen Tony’s hand?’

  ‘Yes, I’ve seen Tony’s hand. He said it’s OK, love. Just leave it.’

  She opened her mouth, then closed her lips tightly. As usual, they were ganging up on her, and she didn’t have the energy to fight back right now. She picked up her bag from the couch and slung it over her shoulder. ‘We’re late. Lisa and Wendy will be waiting – I said seven.’

&n
bsp; * * *

  Ursula scanned the packed restaurant, then waved when she saw Lisa sitting at a table at the back of the dining room with a glass of wine in her hand. Wendy was opposite her, with her back to the door. The perfume of chilli and coriander drifted around the room; waiters darted and danced between the tables. The customers’ chatter reverberated around the room, bouncing off the high ceilings and the crimson and gold canvases hanging on the walls. Her mouth watered as a waiter sashayed past with a plate of glistening noodles and steaming pink prawns. It was nice to feel hungry again; ever since that day she had been forcing herself to eat out of habit. She exhaled, trying to leave the tension behind in the car, then made her way towards Lisa. Tony trudged along behind her, shepherded by Jim.

  Lisa and Wendy both stood up as the three of them approached the table. Ursula hugged her daughter, then turned to kiss Wendy’s pale cheek. ‘Hi, Wendy. How are you?’

  ‘I’m all right, thanks. You?’ Wendy had that sad, pitiful look on her face already. Ursula smiled and looked away without answering. She didn’t want to hear a sob story right now; it was just a greeting. She walked around to the back of the table and sat next to Lisa, patting the seat of the chair next to her and beckoning to Jim. Tony sat opposite her, next to Wendy.

  ‘I got a bottle of wine,’ Lisa said. ‘And a lemonade for you, Mum.’

  Ursula smiled. ‘Thanks, love. How are you?’

  ‘Good, thanks. I was just telling Wendy, the shop’s been really busy.’ Lisa glanced at Tony; he was staring at the menu. She looked back at Ursula, who nodded her encouragement. Lisa smiled back and kept talking about the shop.

  Ursula turned in her chair so she could look at Lisa, and listened with pleasure to her daughter’s latest news and gossip. It was so nice to hear some normal conversation, something other than misery. But she couldn’t kid herself that this wasn’t all for Tony’s benefit. She watched as Wendy sipped her wine, listening to Lisa too. She hadn’t seen Wendy for a few days. Emily was spending more time with her, and Ursula was glad to be relieved of that duty. Wendy only seemed to be able to talk about Anna; Ursula wanted to talk about anything but her.

  ‘Did you hear that, love?’ Ursula reached across the table and touched Tony’s hand. ‘Lisa’s got some designs in a fashion show in Melbourne next month.’

  Tony put down the menu and smiled. ‘That’s great. Nice city.’

  Lisa blushed. ‘Yeah, well, it’s hardly New York, but there’s so much art and fashion there, it’ll be great to get some contacts, you know? Wendy, have you ever been to Melbourne?’

  ‘No, I haven’t,’ said Wendy. ‘I’d like to though – I’d love to see a footy game at the MCG. Western Australia’s just so far away, it takes so long to get anywhere, and it’s a bit expensive.’ Her face went red.

  ‘Should we order?’ Ursula said. She didn’t want Wendy to start talking about her guilt at not flying over to see Jack when she’d had the chance.

  ‘Good idea, and Tony and I need a beer,’ Jim said. ‘Wendy, is there anything in particular that you like, or don’t like?’

  Wendy shook her head. ‘No, I’m happy with whatever you want.’

  Ursula nodded, called over a waiter, and ordered food for everyone.

  As they waited, Ursula thought again what a delightful young woman her daughter was. She led the conversation and was so polite and inclusive. She’d make a wonderful wife and mother one day. Ursula felt the creep of old age in her bones, the sense of achievement in having raised the next generation coupled with the sadness in knowing that her own children were adults and didn’t need her any more. She blinked hard and turned her attention back to the table. Jim was laughing loudly as he told his usual yarns about work and fishing, but Tony was quiet despite everyone’s attempts to include him. Ursula was glad when the food arrived; they were running out of things to say and now at least they could eat and talk about the merits of their meal.

  But Tony didn’t eat. She watched him moving the food round and round on his plate. She tried to ignore it, but the screech of the metal cutlery on the plate got louder and louder until she couldn’t bear it any more. ‘Anthony! Stop it!’ she said. ‘That noise is driving me crazy —’ She tried to stop herself halfway through the word ‘crazy’ but it was too late. She paused for just a second too long.

  Tony held his fork upright for a moment, then let it fall with a clatter. He stared at Ursula. The others had stopped talking.

  Lisa looked at her mother and brother, then sighed and put her own cutlery down. ‘Well, let’s stop ignoring the elephant in the room. How are you, Tony?’

  Ursula glared at Lisa, who avoided her eyes and looked directly at Tony. Wendy looked at her plate.

  ‘You calling me an elephant, sis?’ Tony tried to joke.

  ‘Hardly, you’re too skinny,’ she said.

  Ursula held her breath. Tony looked down at his plate, then pushed it away.

  Lisa did the same. ‘How’s Anna?’

  ‘Lisa!’ Ursula said.

  ‘What?’

  She glared at her children. She hated it when they did this. They’d always done it, even as kids. They’d fight and scream at each other, but as soon as she tried to intervene they would act like she was the one causing the problem. She shook her head. ‘Nothing.’

  Lisa looked at Tony again. ‘What’s happening with the trial?’

  ‘There’s a committal hearing next week.’

  ‘What?’ Ursula looked at Jim, and was pleased to see that he also seemed shocked. Why hadn’t Tony told her about this?

  Wendy shrank into her chair. She put her fork down, wiped her face with her paper napkin, then cleared her throat. ‘The charge – it’ll have to be heard in the Supreme Court, it’s too serious for the magistrates court, so this hearing is just a formality to organise that. Sorry, I thought you knew …’ She looked at Tony, as did Ursula.

  ‘It doesn’t matter. Tony must have forgotten,’ Jim said. ‘The Supreme Court. Wow.’ He shook his head.

  ‘Oh, don’t act so surprised, Jim – this is a pretty serious case, don’t you think?’ Ursula said.

  He ignored her and spoke gently to Wendy. ‘When will the trial be?’

  Wendy finished her wine, then smiled as Lisa started to pour her some more. ‘Mr Hardy, the lawyer, he’s not sure. It’ll probably be in a couple of months.’

  Lisa put the wine bottle back in the bucket and screwed it into the ice. ‘It’ll go so quickly. It’s weird, I can’t really believe she’ll have to go through that. I bet you’ll be glad when it’s all over.’

  ‘Of course. Though in some ways it’s easier not to know what will happen. If, if she …’ Wendy closed her eyes for a second, then continued, ‘If she has to go to jail, it’ll be …’ She put her hand to her face. ‘Sorry.’

  Lisa reached over and put her hand on Wendy’s, then looked at Tony. ‘How’s she doing?’

  Tony gulped down some beer. ‘Fine. I haven’t been in for a while.’

  Ursula frowned. ‘Why —’

  ‘She’s doing well.’ Wendy glanced at Tony. ‘The voices and things are better, but she’s …’ Her eyes filled with tears and her voice trembled. ‘She’s sad, very sad. She’s scared … Sorry, I promised myself I wasn’t going to do this.’ She bent down to search in her bag for a tissue.

  Ursula pulled a few napkins from the metal dispenser on the table and flung them towards Wendy. This wasn’t the place to make a scene.

  ‘Has the lawyer said what her chances are?’ Lisa asked. ‘I mean—’

  She couldn’t just sit and listen to this any longer. ‘Lisa, that’s enough! We didn’t come out to talk about Anna.’

  ‘Ursula.’ Jim put his hand on hers, but she shook him off.

  ‘Well, we can’t really sit here and play happy families, Mum, can we?’ Tony said.

  Ursula narrowed her eyes. ‘I just don’t think we need to talk about this now.’

  Tony set his jaw and turned back to Lisa. ‘We don’t know.
Because she was mentally ill at the time, hopefully she won’t have to go to jail. After this committal hearing, there’s another one when she’ll enter a plea, and then a trial or sentencing or whatever. It’s all pretty confusing, but Scott knows what he’s doing.’

  Ursula couldn’t believe that all this was coming out now, and she hadn’t heard a word of it before from Tony. She realised that she hadn’t really asked; she’d been quite happy not to hear about Anna. She hung her head a little, then brushed away the guilt. ‘I didn’t even know she had a lawyer.’

  Tony looked straight at her. ‘I called my mate Scotty, and he agreed to take it on. He’s a criminal lawyer now.’

  ‘I remember him,’ Jim said. ‘The guy you played rugby with? You remember him, Ursula? Black hair, big fella.’

  Ursula glanced around them at the other tables, then lowered her voice. ‘A criminal lawyer sounds expensive. How is Anna going to pay for that?’

  ‘I’ve spoken to the bank,’ Tony said. ‘We’re using the money that we’ve paid into the house.’

  ‘But that’s your future.’ She clasped her hand over her mouth as she realised what she’d said.

  Tony looked at her with a clenched jaw. ‘What future do I have at the moment, Mum? And Anna – her future could be spent in prison. What do you expect me to do? Just walk away from her?’

  Ursula felt her cheeks burn. In fact, that was exactly what she expected. She wanted Tony to stay away from Anna, to let her face the consequences of what she had done and deal with it on her own. But she couldn’t say that out loud; she was ashamed to even think it. Instead, she picked up her cutlery and shovelled food into her mouth. Jim started talking about the weather or something ridiculous, and Wendy nodded and smiled and looked up at him with wide eyes. Lisa filled up the wine glasses again, and this time Ursula turned her own glass the right way up; she needed a drink.

  As soon as their eating and fake conviviality started to slow down, Ursula nudged Jim. ‘Get the bill.’

  He nodded, then went up to the counter to pay while the others gathered their things and walked outside. Lisa hugged everyone, and insisted on driving Wendy back to the flat. Ursula drove Jim and Tony home in silence.