What the hell had happened? How could Isabelle have frozen so badly in the middle of a crisis? She was a trained nurse! Thankfully, he hadn’t seen her leave the scene, or he would have had plenty to say – probably none of it pleasant. He finished the rest of his beer and ran his hands across his stubble. He needed a shower.
Twenty minutes later, he was towelling himself dry when the phone rang. He frowned. It was nearly midnight. He ignored it, and after several more rings it stopped, only to start again immediately. He grabbed it and swiped his finger across the screen, not checking to see who was calling him.
‘Matt Robertson,’ he growled.
‘Hey, it’s me.’
‘I’m not in the mood, Leah.’
‘For what?’
‘To talk. Or listen. Or whatever it is you want to do.’
‘Steady on. I called to make sure you’re okay.’
He tucked his towel around his waist and went back into the kitchen for another beer. ‘Why wouldn’t I be?’
‘Because I’ve just been around to see Isabelle. She’s in tears – distraught and inconsolable.’
‘Did she tell you why?’ he asked coldly.
‘She wouldn’t talk to me. She didn’t even call Fran to say goodnight to the kids.’
He tucked the phone between his chin and ear and prised the lid of another beer. ‘So are you saying you don’t know what happened tonight?’ That was odd. He assumed Leah would have been there in the crowd of onlookers.
‘Well, I do now. Everyone’s talking about it. I was driving Edith home and I didn’t even know what happened until I got back and saw the commotion in the street. It didn’t take me long to find out the whole story. That’s why I’m calling, to make sure you’re okay.’
Matt let out a frustrated breath. He bet Leah had heard the whole story – and the exaggerated version too. There were enough bystanders and each of them would have their own version of the events.
He leaned back against the kitchen bench. ‘She froze, Leah. Absolutely froze, like she was paralysed.’
Leah sighed too. ‘God, Matt, of course she did. Think about why.’
His mind came up blank. He ran his hands through his wet hair. ‘Why?’
Leah made a sound in the back of her throat. ‘You can be such a dumb bloke, you know?’ Her voice was serious, low, as she continued. ‘Matt, has Issie ever told you about Dan? About how he died?’
Apprehension skidded through him. ‘No.’
‘I thought that might be the case. I suggest first thing tomorrow you find her and ask her. It’s time you knew the whole story.’
Chapter 37
‘I reckon you should take her flowers,’ Geoff said. They were sitting opposite each other at the desk in the small station, early Monday morning.
They’d received news from Jane late Saturday night that Joe was already giving the nurses a hard time, demanding to be sent back home. Unfortunately for Joe, his blood tests showed he’d had a significant heart attack. Early Sunday morning he was taken to Adelaide for an angiogram and ended up with four stents in his heart. He needed to change his diet and take some new medications but thankfully, he was going to be okay.
‘Who should I give flowers to? Jane?’
‘Don’t be daft, man. Issie, that’s who.’
‘I don’t think she’d appreciate the gesture,’ Matt replied.
‘Bull! All women like flowers.’
‘Regardless of your opinion on the matter, I’m not taking her flowers. Besides, where would I get flowers? Last I checked there’s not a florist within coo-ee of here.’
‘You could pick some roses from Alison’s garden. She wouldn’t mind.’
‘I’m not taking Isabelle flowers. It sends the wrong message.’
‘And what message is that?’ Geoff asked, squinting at Matt over his glasses.
‘The message that I’m interested in her.’
‘Aren’t you?’
He slumped down in his seat. After Leah’s phone call, Matt wasn’t sure about anything any more. He was totally confused about his feelings for Isabelle. He cared deeply for her and had been excited about where things seemed to be heading between them, but after the business with Joe, he realised she was carrying too much baggage. Did she really need him to make things more complicated? Maybe it would be easier if he just walked away and tried to ignore the feelings he’d already developed for her. Let her get over her grief without him hovering around waiting.
He sighed. He couldn’t walk away.
‘Aren’t you?’ Geoff asked.
‘Aren’t I what?’ Matt wasn’t concentrating on anything Geoff was saying. All he could think about was how shattered Isabelle had appeared and how he needed to fix it.
‘Interested in her.’
He sighed. ‘Yes. But yesterday was a disaster. She was …’ Matt saw the frown that crossed Geoff’s face. ‘What?’
‘How much has Issie told you about her husband?’ Geoff asked, all usual flippancy aside, his expression serious. He pushed his glasses up his nose and stared at Matt.
A trickle of sweat ran down his back as Leah’s words echoed back at him. ‘Not much. She mentions Dan occasionally, but most of the time she’s a closed book.’
‘Do you know how he died?’
‘I assume he must have had cancer or something.’
Geoff removed his glasses. ‘He was out surfing and suffered a heart attack. Fletcher dragged him back to the beach on his surfboard. Isabelle was there. She tried to do CPR but he didn’t make it. He couldn’t be revived. At first they thought he’d drowned.’
Matt felt like someone was trying to suck the air from his lungs.
‘Oh, jeez.’ Images of Isabelle frozen over Joe’s body rushed in and swept over him. No wonder she hadn’t been able to perform the chest compressions. ‘Do you think she blames herself?’
‘I don’t know what’s in the girl’s mind, but I reckon there’s a fair chance she’d blame herself, don’t you?’ Geoff said.
‘Who told you all this?’ Matt asked.
‘My mate Scotty is on the force in Torquay. He said it was heartbreaking. Everyone knew her husband, and loved him. Isabelle was hysterical, screaming at people to help, even after it was clear he was long gone. They reckon he was already dead when Fletcher pulled him back in. In the end they had to drag Isabelle off his body.’
Matt shook his head and groaned wearily. ‘I yelled at her, Geoff. I yelled and demanded she do CPR.’ He smacked his hand on the desk. ‘She must hate me.’
‘I’m sure she doesn’t hate you as much as she hates herself. I reckon it’d be rough being a nurse and not being able to save your own husband.’
‘I can’t even begin to imagine.’ A vice clamped around Matt’s chest. Poor Issie. No wonder she’d totally frozen at the scene.
‘How am I going to fix it?’ Matt asked.
‘I’d start by apologising. And take her flowers, like I suggested,’ Geoff said.
Matt shook his head. ‘I can’t do that. She doesn’t need flowers and sympathy from me. She needs space. It’s obvious she’s still grieving and the last thing she needs is another man in her life to confuse matters. She definitely doesn’t need me.’
‘Now that’s where I reckon you’re wrong,’ Geoff said. ‘Has she told you she wants space? She’s going to feel lost and alone after what happened yesterday. Best thing you can do is apologise and be there for her. And nothing says “sorry” and “I love you” like flowers. At least that’s what Alison tells me.’
Geoff’s words ran in Matt’s ears for a long time after.
*
For the second night in a row after Joe’s heart attack, Isabelle couldn’t fall asleep. The moment she closed her eyes, the cry that had haunted her for months after Dan’s death returned.
‘Help me.’
This time, she wasn’t sure whose voice it was. Dan’s? Fletcher’s? Joe’s? Or was it Matt’s? In the end, it didn’t matter who was calling out, she ha
dn’t been able to help any of them.
She knew why she couldn’t sleep. The anniversary she feared most was coming up. The day she was dreading.
One year.
Five hundred and twenty five thousand, six hundred minutes.
Twenty million breaths after she thought she’d never breathe again.
One year without him.
She’d decided not to go back to Torquay for the anniversary. She couldn’t see the point of revisiting that day when their lives had changed forever. She still found it difficult to accept he was gone and never coming back, but at least now she could look back on all the milestones she’d achieved alone. She would make it. Ahead of her stretched many more milestones that Dan would never be part of, but that was okay because she’d found an inner strength she never knew she had.
She sighed heavily. She also thought she’d found Matt, but after Joe’s heart attack, she wasn’t sure of that any more. After he’d yelled at her, his face had closed over like he couldn’t bear to look at her. Afterwards, when help arrived, he’d remained distant and professional, and when she left the scene she’d seen the look in his eyes. It had been enough to shatter her heart all over again. Hilary was wrong. There was no such thing as second chance love.
The air was heavy and still, with barely a breath of wind, as it had been all day. A storm was brewing. Isabelle missed the way the rain came across the ocean in Torquay. Here it appeared from nowhere. One minute she could see Mount Remarkable and the next it was shrouded in heavy grey clouds, the outline of the mountain barely etched as a line against the sky.
The memories of her marriage were the same. Once she’d had happy, sunny memories of their time together. Then storm clouds had rolled in and gathered all the memories together into one large ball – a blur of colour and sound – and taken them away from her.
Was it possible that one day she’d forget his face? Forget the love they’d shared? She couldn’t bear that thought, but she also couldn’t stay locked in grief forever.
The moon shone through the open windows and a faint breeze had struck up, causing her curtains to billow. The reality of what had happened to Joe came flooding back in, crushing her all over again. She hugged herself as the thoughts left her chilled. She’d let everyone down and would need to apologise. To Matt. To Joe and Jane. To the people of Stony Creek. If they wanted her to leave, she would.
Isabelle gave up trying to sleep and shuffled into the kitchen. Despite the fact it had been another scorcher of a day, she was cold. Wrapping her dressing gown tightly around her, she stared out the window in the darkness.
It felt like she was living a lie. Since moving to Stony Creek she’d pretended everything was normal. That she’d moved on from Dan and gotten over his death. That she was okay. But the reality was, she wasn’t okay. She hadn’t gotten over his death. She hadn’t moved on. Joe’s heart attack proved that. She wasn’t coping. She still missed Dan, and rather than moving on, some days it felt like she was moving backwards.
She took a glass from the overhead kitchen cupboard and placed it on the bench. She noticed the mug she’d taken out earlier, the teabag still hanging over the side. She’d forgotten to pour the water. She opened the fridge and stared unseeing at its contents. She couldn’t remember what she was looking for. She slammed the fridge door shut then caught sight of her wedding and engagement rings still sitting on the windowsill where she’d left them. Was it only two days ago? She burst into tears and swept her arm across the bench, swiping the glass so it smashed to the floor at her feet. She stood, rooted to the spot, as wave after wave of despair swept over her. How much longer would this go on?
‘Issie?’
She jumped in fright and then stared in startled disbelief as Matt walked through her back door. His large frame filled the small space. He was carrying an enormous bunch of roses.
‘I know it’s late, but I saw your light on and I wanted to give you these.’ He placed them gently on the kitchen table. By the look of the hand-picked bouquet, he’d raided the garden of every single house in the district.
Isabelle swallowed hard. Matt glanced from the broken glass at her bare feet, to her face and back to her feet. She stood, fighting for breath, feeling her shoulders rise and fall. Stranded in the middle of the floor, her knees shook. She needed to sit.
‘What happened here?’ he asked gently.
‘Nothing.’
‘It doesn’t look like nothing to me.’
‘I got upset, that’s all,’ Isabelle said, tugging her dressing gown tighter around her waist.
‘Because of what happened to Joe?’
She blinked rapidly and willed herself not to cry in front of him. She couldn’t answer him.
‘Are you okay, sweetheart?’ His question was like a soothing balm.
Silent tears trickled down her cheeks. ‘I’m fine.’
‘Clearly you’re not.’
*
Matt was hesitant to intrude, but Isabelle looked so lost standing there in her kitchen surrounded by shattered glass. It was clearly more than a dropped glass that was causing her flood of silent tears. It was like a dam had burst inside her. Then he heard it. It was so quiet he thought he’d imagined it. His name. Matt. A choked sob came from her mouth and his indecision evaporated in an instant. He stepped towards her, his boots crunching on broken glass, and held out his hands.
‘Don’t move.’
In one swift movement, he swept her up in his arms, away from the sharp slivers covering the floor and placed her gently on a kitchen chair. She was trembling like an autumn leaf blown around in the wind. She pushed her body back into the hard wooden frame and rested her bare feet on the timber bar under the chair. Matt pulled another chair out from under the table and swung it so it faced hers. He sat, waiting patiently for her to speak. When she remained silent he leaned forward, legs wide, and rested his elbows on his knees. He took her hands gently in his. They were icy cold.
‘You’re shaking.’
She pulled her hands away and tucked them under her legs, which she jiggled in a vain attempt to warm herself up.
‘Are you cold?’
She shook her head.
He ignored her and got up from the table. Coming back moments later, he wrapped a polar fleece blanket around her. She gave him a grateful smile.
‘I don’t know if I want to tell you what that was all about,’ Isabelle whispered.
‘You can tell me anything, Issie.’
Her expression suggested she was thinking about it.
‘Do you trust me?’
‘I suppose.’
He frowned at her, looking intently in her eyes, begging her to say yes.
‘Yes, I trust you,’ she conceded.
He kept his eyes fixed firmly on her face as he waited patiently for her to talk.
‘I’m not good at this, Matt.’
‘At what?’
‘Talking about it.’
He didn’t question what ‘it’ was. He knew. Dan’s death. ‘It’s okay. Take your time.’
She pulled her hands out from under the blanket and rubbed her temples. After a moment, her gaze flicked up and her blue eyes shone with fresh tears. ‘I guess you found out about Dan.’ It was as much a statement as a question.
He nodded. ‘I don’t know all the details.’ He reached for her hands again and this time she didn’t pull away. ‘Geoff said he had a heart attack.’ He rubbed his thumb across the back of her hand, willing her to talk, to tell him more. She kept her head down, eyes downcast, staring at the floor. He strained forward to catch her next words.
‘I let him die, Matt.’ Bright blue eyes looked up, locked with his and she stabbed at the tears forming. ‘You must think I’m so pathetic!’
Matt shook his head. Pathetic was the last word he would have used to describe her. Vulnerable, yes. Fragile, yes. But definitely not pathetic.
Her mascara had smeared, causing sooty smudges under her lower lashes. Through her tears, he glimpse
d the inner strength he’d seen when he first met her. Sorrow was trying its hardest to quench her strength, and it just about broke his heart. He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, letting his finger gently caress her cheek.
‘I did CPR, but I couldn’t save him,’ she whispered. She let out another small sob and sniffed. ‘Fletcher was there watching me. I tried everything,’ she continued in a small voice. ‘I did everything like I’d been taught and he still died. Now do you get it, Matt? I’m a nurse, I should have known what to do with Joe. I should have been able to help you.’
A vice-like grip squeezed his heart tighter with each word.
Isabelle hung her head, the tears falling freely again, leaving trails down her cheeks. He brushed them away with his thumb. Pulling his chair closer he caught both her hands in his. They were still like blocks of ice. He placed his knees on either side of her legs and tilted her chin to stare deep into her eyes.
‘You did everything you could,’ he said quietly. ‘Everything. It wasn’t your fault.’’
She began to cry again, huge sobs wracking her tiny body.
Matt stood and held out his arms. ‘Belle, darling, come here.’ He scooped her up and carried her into the lounge room. She felt featherweight in his arms. As he held her close, he smelled the familiar fragrance of fresh fruit in her hair. He gently placed his chin on her head, closed his eyes, and softly kissed the top of her head.
Never in his life had he wanted to protect someone so badly.
*
Isabelle breathed in deeply. Matt’s arms wrapped around her like a warm blanket, and for a moment she closed her eyes.
He called me Belle.
For the first time in nearly a year, she felt safe. When Dan died, a heavy winter weight settled on her shoulders like a fog, sapping her energy and leaving her listless, tired, sad. Now it felt like the fog was miraculously lifting. She allowed herself to relax in Matt’s embrace, feeling the warmth of his breath across the top of her hair. They sat on the couch for what seemed like hours. She didn’t want to be the one who broke the spell, but finally her tears dried up and she drew away to wipe her nose.
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