And I’m acutely aware of the empty bottle of vodka beside my mum’s lifeless body.
This can’t be right… she wouldn’t do this. There must be something wrong. I could be dreaming. Mum was getting better. She wouldn’t try to take her own life. No way. She’s probably just taken the last two pills in the bottle and is in a deep sleep.
The vodka is just a slip up.
That’s what it’ll be.
She wouldn’t leave me now. She promised.
No.
We had plans!
“She’s fine,” I say.
Spencer ignores me.
What is he doing?
He tilts Mum’s head back and listens.
“She’s fine!” I shout, realising what he’s about to do. “No, don’t!”
“…chest compressions…”
Two words I never want to hear ring down the phone like a foghorn.
The operator wants him to perform CPR on my mum.
Because she’s not breathing.
No.
That can’t be…
No.
She’s taken her own life.
My mum has killed herself.
I’m not enough.
My legs crash to the floor, and I slump forwards, my forearms splayed out on the carpet. I gasp for breath, but my lungs feel like they’re covered in lots of tiny holes.
She’s left me, too.
I turn cold, shivering. I’m as cold as I was when they accidentally locked me outside on a frosty February afternoon.
“Mum,” I rasp.
Spencer places both hands on my mum’s chest, and he pumps.
No, no, no, no. I squeeze my eyes shut and lower my head to the floor, the new pile scratching my skin as I shake my head. Not her, too. I can’t lose both of my parents. What is the success rate of CPR?
The house is so quiet, I hear Spencer’s efforts as if they’re in surround sound. I feel the scream in my throat, but it doesn’t come out. I don’t have anything left.
“Nothing yet,” Spencer says. He’s out of breath, or maybe he’s just panicking because it’s not working.
It’s. Not. Working.
I keep my eyes closed. I had to deal with Dad. I can’t do this again.
Please breathe, Mum. Please don’t leave me.
Why did she change her mind? It was only a few hours ago that we were sitting around the table, drinking tea.
She encouraged us to go out. Did she know this morning that she was going to kill herself?
How long has she wanted to die?
I curl my fingertips into the carpet as despair swallows me whole. This isn’t fair.
“Indie! Indie!” Spencer’s booming voice cuts through my despair. “Open the door.”
Sitting up, I hear it. Sirens.
Help is here.
The paramedics can fix her.
Leaping up, I run from the living room and slam into the front door. My hands shake as I push the handle down and yank the door open. The ambulance stops outside my house, and two paramedics rush towards me.
“She’s not breathing,” I say as they approach.
“Okay. Where is she?”
“In there,” I tell them.
They’re a flash of green as they dash past me. I close the door slowly and take a ragged breath.
My hands shake.
Will she be angry when she comes around? How can I look her in the eye knowing she could leave me? How much pain has she been in? I didn’t know. Every conversation has ended on a positive note with her telling me that we’re going to be okay, while sharing her plans of a bright future. She wanted to watch her grandchildren grow up.
When she wakes, we’ll get her back into rehab, for longer this time. I should have done that the second the world found out about us. Something big had changed, yet we didn’t change her treatment. How could I not have seen that?
Well, I see it now, and I know what to do.
“Indie,” Spencer says, looking for me as he walks out of the living room. His turns around, a bit frantic, clearly scared that I could have run away.
He stills when he finds me. His face is pale, and he gulps. He looks a little broken himself.
“Hey, come here,” he says, taking a step closer.
My chin trembles. I feel it wobbling as I stumble into his open arms. He holds me tightly, like he’s stopping me from breaking apart. I think he might be.
I breathe him in, and my unsteady heartbeat stabilises. “What’s happening?”
His lips touch my forehead. “They’ve taken over. They’re trying.”
“She wanted to die…”
“Shh, it’s going to be okay.”
I want to believe him so badly, it hurts. Even if she doesn’t die, we’ll both know that she wanted to. It makes sense. She was willing to drink her life away with Dad. Of course she would want to die with him, too. They were always together from their late teens.
The short answer: you don’t.
How do you live without the other half of you? I wouldn’t be able to if anything bad happened to Spencer.
“What are they doing in there?”
“Trying to start her heart,” he replies softly, and his fingers find my hair.
“I’m cold,” I whisper.
Spencer holds me tighter. I close my eyes and listen to the sound of his heart. His is beating hard and strong.
“Will she hate us for helping her?” I ask.
“Don’t think like that, baby. One step at a time.”
His fingers dig into my back.
He had to perform CPR. That’s not something you just forget. Trying to revive someone is a cause of trauma.
“Are you okay?” I ask.
“Don’t worry about me. Let me look after you.”
“She’s gone, hasn’t she, Spence?”
He kisses my forehead again, harder this time, like he’s trying to heal me. “Don’t lose hope.”
Hope is evil. It makes you think things can be okay again, and then you’re more crushed when it isn’t. Hope can, frankly, fuck off.
Eventually the paramedics come through with Mum on a stretcher and an oxygen mask over her face. One is still treating her while the other guides them out. “She’s breathing but we need to get her to A&E.”
They got her breathing but neither one of them looks hopeful.
Forty-Eight
Spencer
We’re in a waiting room thirty minutes later, when the doctor walks in. “Miss Croft?”
Indie nods. I hold my breath.
“I’m so very sorry. We did everything we could… but your Mum has passed away.”
She doesn’t move, blink, or make any indication that she’s heard him. She has, though.
“Thank you,” I say, and he retreats.
I turn to her, completely at a loss. She’s not said a word since we arrived. We both followed the ambulance in my car. She could have gone with her mum but chose to come with me. Fear, that’s what stopped her going. She didn’t want to watch her mum die in the back of an ambulance.
Jessica is gone, and now Indie has to deal with the loss of another parent.
This one chose to go in a much more direct way.
I don’t know how you even begin to process your mum choosing to leave you behind. I’m not going to belittle Jessica’s suffering, but Indie needed her. She had the chance to be a proper mum to the most amazing woman.
“Indie?”
“We should go now,” she says. “I don’t want to be in this tiny room anymore. There’s nothing to stay for.”
“Babe…”
“No! I can’t go in and visit her. She’s dead!” Her breathing hitches and rattles like she can’t get enough air. “Why are we still here, Spencer? I need to leave!”
“Shh, shh,” I whisper as she thrashes away from my grip.
“Get me out of here!”
I raise my palms. “Okay, okay, we’re going. Whatever you want. Let’s go.”
Her
dark eyes are wild and filled with tears. I can only imagine how she’s feeling right now. It must be fucking awful. All she’s known from her parents is neglect and loss.
“I can’t stay and do whatever I need to for her.”
I take her hand, and this time, she lets me. “I’ll call later and sort it. Let’s get you to mine, okay?”
She nods, pressing her lips together as she steps towards me.
I lead her out of the hospital. We don’t see any of the doctors, so I tell the receptionist what’s going on while Indie buries her head against my chest.
There is paperwork that needs to be taken care of, but not right now.
I get Indie into my car and drive us back to mine.
It’s getting close to midnight now, and I don’t feel the least bit tired.
Indie stares out of the window into darkness. I see her defeated eyes in the reflection of the glass. She tried so hard for her parents her whole life. They gave nothing back.
She won’t be living alone. I need to get myself sorted and buy a house. I’ve been unsettled for too long, but now is the time to act. I’m not having her coming back to her childhood house alone.
At least she will have somewhere safe, somewhere there are no bad memories. A place that is hers and mine.
I pull into my drive and notice the living room light on. My parents will occasionally stay up late to watch movies. This had to be one of those days.
We let ourselves in, and Mum calls out. “Spencer, we’re in here.”
Indie looks at me.
“Whatever you want,” I tell her.
“They need to know,” she replies quietly. “No point putting it off.”
“Okay.”
“Hey, how was your night?” Mum asks.
Dad’s brow furrows. He places his hand over Mum’s as soon as they both spot our lack of enthusiasm for what had been a perfect night until we got back to her house.
“What is it?” Mum asks, standing up.
“Um…” Indie presses into my side.
“It’s Jessica,” I say. “She died tonight.”
Mum’s eyes widen before she looks across to Indie. “Oh no. Oh, my darling,” she coos, rushing to Indie and wrapping her in up a big hug.
I’m pushed away, but I don’t mind because Indie instantly starts sobbing. She needs to let it out. Mum practically carries her to the sofa, comforting her. Indie’s cries are like lacerations. I curl my hands into fists, hating how deeply they’ve both hurt her.
I ache to be the one to hold her, but Indie needs a mum.
Dad pats me on the back. “What happened?”
“Erm… we got home from the ice rink and found Jessica on the sofa. She’d taken her own life.”
He bows his head. “Jesus. Indie’s been through enough already. We have to be there for her now more than ever.”
“We will.”
“This is last thing she needs after everything else.” He grinds his teeth, letting his anger for her parents show. “How much shit can you throw on one person? She’s a miracle, Spencer. Everything she’s dealt with and she’s still an incredible woman.”
“I know, Dad.” She deserved so much better from her parents. “I’m going to take care of her.”
He nods. “I know you will, son.”
We both look back at them as Mum cradles a devastated Indie like a baby. I don’t think there is anything Indie needs more right now than that hug.
The next morning, I leave Indie sleeping in bed where she’s somewhat peaceful.
At eight a.m., there’s a banging on the door that can only come from one person. It was only ten minutes ago that I spoke to Mila and told her what’s going on. I’m not allowed to call Wren yet. Indie wants me to wait until she’s back from a mini break with Brody.
“Where is she?” Mila asks, pushing past me before I can respond. This woman needs to learn about boundaries.
I close the door. Mila is looking at me with her hands folded when I turn around.
“She’s sleeping.”
With tears in her eyes, she asks, “How could her mum do this? She can’t lose them both, it’s not fair. After everything she’s already been through, Spencer. What is she going to do? How do we get her through this?”
I hold my hands up. “All right, slow down.”
She takes a small breath. “I’m scared for her.”
“I get that. I am, too. Come through to the kitchen so we can talk.” Mila walks beside me with no regard for my personal space. “Do you want a hot drink?”
“Really strong coffee, please. Are your parents home?”
“They’ve both left for work. They wanted to take the day off but Indie would hate everyone fussing around her. She needs a bit of time.”
“You’re a prick, you know?”
I turn with the kettle still in my hand. “Sorry?”
“Why am I only just learning about this now? You could have called me last night. And Wren isn’t even picking up her phone, so who knows when she’ll be here.”
“Wren is away, and Indie doesn’t want to get a hold of her yet. Last night would have been too much for her. It had just happened.”
She slumps down on the chair. “How’s she doing?”
“Understandably, not great. While I was… trying to help Jessica, I heard her saying that she would wake up because she wouldn’t leave her, or words to that effect.”
Mila presses her lips together.
I flick the kettle on and turn around. “She’s broken, and I don’t know what to do. Her parents have never been there, but since her mum was sober, she truly believed that things were getting better. She told me that she felt like she had a mum for the first time in years.”
“God,” Mila whispers. “I wish I could fix this. I hate that she’s hurting so badly.”
“She has me, you, Wren, and my parents. We’ll make sure she’s all right.”
Mila chews her lip as she considers what to say next. A rarity for her. “Are we enough? Even though they sucked, they were still her parents, and that stands for way more than it should sometimes.”
“We have to be enough.”
We’re all she has now.
Mila is unsarcastically quiet as I make two strong coffees.
“What do we do now?” she finally asks.
“I wish I knew. All we can do is follow her lead and let her grieve.”
“And if she wants us to take a step back? She didn’t even tell us about her dad. What if she wants to shut us out again?”
“I don’t think she will. We know everything now.”
“I won’t go anywhere,” she says with a defiant glint to her eyes.
Smiling, I reply, “I bloody know.”
“How are you doing? You tried CPR, right?”
I swallow, knowing the memory will haunt me for a long time. “I tried. I did everything the operator told me.”
“You, like, dealing with that okay?”
I frown. “What?”
“You had to perform CPR to try and save a person’s life, Spencer.”
I know it’s probably something that can fuck you up, but besides being shaken and feeling inadequate, I’m doing all right.
“It’s not an experience I want to live again, but I’m okay. Really.”
In comparison to what my girl is going through…
“Good. Did you sleep much last night?”
I shake my head. “Neither of us did. We sat with my parents until three a.m., and then laid in bed. I drifted on and off, gave up a couple hours later, and came downstairs. Indie was finally sleeping soundly.”
“You look awful. Do you want to sleep now?”
“Thank you,” I mutter. This girl holds no punches. “No, I want to be awake when she gets up.”
“You’ll be in the same bed as her.” Her eyes narrow. “Are you getting nightmares?”
“What?” I rub my eyes. “Mila, I’m not afraid of going to sleep.”
“All right, I was just a
sking.”
“Hi, Mila,” Indie says softly.
We both look up to see her watching us with a gentle smile and sad eyes.
Forty-Nine
Indie
They both look up when they hear my voice. Mila’s whiskey eyes widen, and she leaps up from her seat. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her move so quickly. Not since the time when the cute bar tender said the first five people to reach him got a free shot. She was the first.
“Indie.” She rushes towards me so fast, I brace for a collision, but she slows just enough before she barrels into me. “I’m so, so sorry.”
“Thank you,” I whisper, holding her tightly.
Sympathy feels the same as wearing an itchy knitted jumper.
Soon the media will know about my mum’s suicide, too. It will get even worse. I’m going to be Spencer’s girl with two dead parents. They don’t learn. They won’t go easy on the next person they slate.
Mila pulls away, holding me out at arm’s length. “Stupid question, but how are you doing?”
“I’m trying to stay… I don’t know…. positive doesn’t sound right.”
My stomach and throat are sore from crying but I’m okay.
She drops her arms. “What can I do?”
“You could come and sit on the sofa with me. Watch shitty, daytime TV?”
“I’m all over that one. Let’s go.”
As I’m being dragged away, she tells Spencer to get some sleep. I look over my shoulder and nod in agreement. He gives me a warm smile and winks.
I’m not sure if that means he will or not, but I hope he does. He hasn’t left me alone for a second, nor has he slept much. When Dad died, I wanted him far away. Now I can’t seem to keep him close enough. I’m trying to not be a hysterical girlfriend by refusing to let him move more than an inch away. The least I can do is chill with Mila for a couple of hours while he catches up on some sleep.
“This morning, I heard Spencer on the phone,” I say as we curl up together on the sofa. “He thought I was asleep and called his agent.”
“About keeping this out of the media?”
I nod.
“Do you think it will work?” she asks.
“That would be really nice, but I think they’ll find out. They always do.”
Just Like the Movies Page 26