19 AMELIA

19 Amelia

Noah pressed against her, curled into the curve of her body as he always did when he snuck into their bed. Amelia smiled sleepily, pulling her son closer as she pushed away the nightmare.

The pillow she cuddled gave way too easily in her embrace and she froze, holding her breath until her chest cramped, terrified to open her eyes to the reality.

There was movement in the room, though. She was sure—as sure as she could be, given that her head felt … not stuffed with cotton wool, more like filled with wet cement—that the lambs had been contained in the playpen at the foot of the bed. Were Dusty and Biggles loose? She couldn’t recall. Red light played over her closed lids: it was daytime and her menagerie would be hungry. She had to force herself up. Pry her eyes open and face the horrific truth of her life, because she couldn’t let the animals suffer while she wallowed in the remembrance of her own failure, trying to recapture the nightmare now, because at least it was a memory of her lost son.

‘Oh!’ She gasped as she pushed her elbow into the mattress to lever up. Pain shot through her hand up into her shoulder and her eyes flashed open. She blinked furiously, trying to force away the agony and focus on the blurry figure alongside her bed. ‘Charlee?’

‘The one and only,’ the girl said cheerfully. ‘Nice to see you back in the land of the living. Though, I gotta say, all that muttering you were doing kind of interrupted my reading.’ She hefted a textbook, the movement making a breeze, and Amelia responded by trying to push down the heavy blankets, suddenly aware that she was burning up.

‘Too hot?’ Charlee asked. ‘Doc said that you’d be running a temperature from the infection for a couple of days, until the antibiotics kick in.’

‘Infection?’ She had no idea what was going on. Why was Charlee in her house? Her life was spiralling out of control.

Charlee pointed at her hand with a grimace and Amelia slowly lifted it, squinting at the heavy bandages. ‘Apparently, it’s something gross you caught from the sheep. From the blisters on their lips, according to the doc’s hubby. I still fed them, though.’ It was obvious that Charlee was proud of the fact.

Fear spiked through Amelia. ‘Where are they? How much did you give them? They’ll get—’

‘Bloat. I know,’ Charlee said. ‘I called that woman who runs the animal rescue, the one with the vet husband, and asked her how to look after them. I could have asked Daideó, but I figured you were going to be a whole lot more intense about them than he would.’

‘They’re okay?’ Why didn’t her brain work properly, why was it so hard to make sense of what Charlee was saying? ‘What … Why are you here?’

Charlee stood, pulling down the top cover that Amelia was still ineffectually pushing at. ‘Just call me Florence. Apparently your dad called the doc because you vagued out when you were talking to him. Doc said you can’t be alone, I had nothing much better to do, so I volunteered to hang out with your animals. And you, I guess,’ she added, suddenly seeming self-conscious as she fiddled with the bedclothes.

‘Why would you do that?’

‘You weren’t a bitch to me.’

‘A bitch? Who was a bitch to you?’

Charlee shrugged, not meeting her gaze. ‘Well, not so much bitches being bitches, but it’s not like I don’t know what all the people in those meetings were thinking about me. Or like I didn’t notice they were all avoiding the empty seat next to me. You sat there.’

Amelia’s heart lurched. All it took to make this poor girl feel valued was to not actively avoid her? She gestured at the textbook. ‘What is it you’re studying for?’ Her words came out thick and slurred, but she wanted to keep the focus on Charlee, let the young woman know that she was both seen and heard.

‘For?’ Charlee grunted. ‘That’s a great way to phrase it. What am I studying for . Honestly, just to keep my mind busy. Distracted. I’ve no idea what I’ll do.’ She tormented the bedspread until it seemed it would shred beneath her agitated fingers. ‘Just commerce. Used to want to do law, but now I realise that’s pointless.’ Charlee lifted her gaze.

The pain in her eyes almost stole Amelia’s words. ‘Why?’

‘Because the DPP didn’t do anything about the fuckwit that killed Mum. And they didn’t do anything to me, either.’

‘Why would they do anything to you?’

‘You know I was driving. And don’t bother saying it wasn’t my fault—I know it was.’ Charlee thrust her jaw out belligerently, but her chin wobbled.

‘I know how you feel,’ Amelia said softly.

‘The … grief, you mean?’ Charlee’s tone was almost hopeful.

‘That. And the guilt. Your mum died that day, but you didn’t.’

‘No. But I wanted to,’ Charlee said defensively.

‘I know.’ God, how she knew. Amelia took a breath, pulling the pillow that had briefly been Noah into her arms. ‘My son died because of me. And it was the same as your mum’s death: someone else’s fault, yet it still comes back to my choices. Your choices.’

Charlee’s face was white and shocked, her teeth audibly chattering as she tried to control her tears.

Amelia closed her eyes, partly through exhaustion, partly to shut out the other woman’s pain. ‘So I totally get why you study to keep distracted. It’s the same reason I change jobs all the time, the reason why I’ve been running for three years. I don’t want to leave any space, any time, to allow the memories in, because they hurt so much. And yet I’m terrified—’ Her voice broke and she swallowed hard before she could continue. ‘I’m terrified that I’m going to forget. Noah’s special smell—all boy and puppy dog and soap—the sound of his laughter, the feel of his little toes poking me in the back when he was bored watching TV, just his presence ; all that might disappear forever if I don’t rip open my scars by thinking about him every day. And at the same time, all I want to do is forget. Forget what was so precious, because maybe then it won’t hurt so much.’

The room was completely silent and, reluctantly, she opened her eyes.

Charlee stared at her unblinkingly, tears rolling unchecked down her cheeks. Without making any move to wipe them away, she nodded. Just once. ‘You’re right,’ she whispered. ‘You’re exactly right. I don’t want to let go of Mum because then I’ve lost her. But I don’t want to hold onto her because—God, it’s so painful.’

‘It’s like … complete powerlessness,’ Amelia said. ‘I can’t get past the thought that if I’m sad enough, sorry enough, somehow that should be enough to bring Noah back. But I know it won’t. Nothing will. That’s the truth about death: they’re never coming back. And somehow we have to learn to live with that.’

‘How?’

Despair welled in her. ‘I don’t bloody know.’ Her tone was too desperate. She should be offering Charlee solace, some kind of hope. But she had none.

‘Drugs help,’ Charlee offered, almost shyly. ‘At least, they did for a while.’

If she didn’t feel so ill, so exhausted, perhaps she’d have a better response for the teenager. She was the adult here; hadn’t she just attacked Heath for his inadequate parenting? Yet the words slipped out of her mouth.

‘Not for me. I overdosed. Nearly died. But see, I failed in that, too. Even though I felt like Noah was there, waiting for me, just out of reach.’ She stretched her hand out, fingers aching for the memory of her golden-haired son. ‘I couldn’t get to him. Every time I tried, I was jerked back here. Then I finally realised that I don’t deserve to die.’

‘That’s … good?’ Charlee said cautiously.

Amelia gave a mirthless laugh. ‘Not good. I don’t deserve to die because that would be the easy way out. No more pain, no more guilt.’

‘God, you’re as broken as I am.’ Relief laced Charlee’s words.

Amelia tried to sit up, to take control of the situation. What was she doing, looking for a kindred spirit in this almost-child? This illness, this blood-poisoning, whatever it was, had robbed her of her ability to make rational decisions. She should be mentoring Charlee, helping ease her path, not loading her with the crushing weight of her own guilt.

‘Whoa, you have to stay in bed,’ Charlee said, pressing her back against the pillow. ‘Doc’s orders.’

‘I’ve got to see to Karmaa and Kismet.’

‘Told you, I’ve been feeding them.’

‘Been feeding’, not ‘fed’? Amelia struggled to make sense of the statement. ‘How long have you been here?’

‘Since Friday morning.’

‘Yesterday, you mean?’ How had she lost an entire day?

‘It’s Sunday. And a bunch of people have been calling you, but I only answered when “Dad” flashed on your phone screen—I figured your family needed to know that you’re okay.’

‘But the animals. It’s not only the sheep.’ This was Noah all over again; someone else entrusted with her responsibilities, someone who didn’t do what they were supposed to.

‘Heath told me there’s a possum and a magpie, too. Your bird doesn’t like me much, though,’ Charlee said mournfully, displaying a band aid–wrapped finger.

Did it bother Heath that Charlee used his Christian name? She couldn’t imagine Noah ever calling her anything but ‘Mummy’. Now he never would. ‘Dusty is getting territorial now she’s a little older. Doesn’t like to share me or her space.’

‘I didn’t trust her to come back, so she’s been in the bathroom the whole time. Except for yesterday morning when she escaped and flew straight in here. I thought she was going to peck your eyes out.’

Amelia managed a smile, knowing how assertive Dusty could be. ‘No, she races in here for snuggles. She loves it if I go back to bed for half an hour—she gets up on the pillow in the crook of my neck and fluffs and coos. I’m surprised you could get her out again.’

Charlee waggled the injured finger. ‘Uh-huh.’

‘And Biggles?’

‘Is perfectly all right,’ Charlee said, irritation creeping into her voice. ‘I told you before, I really like animals. It’s a shame I can’t turn my degree into something useful to do with them.’ She got to her feet as a rhythmic tattoo beat on the front door. ‘That’s the doc’.

‘Why the secret squirrel knock?’

‘Because if it’s Heath again, I won’t answer.’

Charlee’s forthrightness was refreshing, but her disclosure disconcerting.

‘He’s … been here?’ Why did Amelia’s heart lurch at the possibility? And was it lurching or skipping a beat?

‘Hanging around like a blowfly.’

The phrase threatened to jolt Amelia back to her nightmare, but her brain was grappling with the new information. ‘Why?’ The single word sounded too interested, so she scrambled to fix it. ‘I mean, I guess he was worried about his sheep.’

Charlee snorted, a disparaging noise Amelia realised she often used, as she made for the door. ‘Daideó’s sheep. Dad has no interest in them. But sure. Tell yourself that’s his concern, if you want.’

Taylor entered alone, seconds later. ‘Well, you dished out a nice scare,’ she said to Amelia in greeting. ‘How are you feeling?’

‘Like I had a really big night.’

‘Still remember those, do you?’ Taylor’s fingers encircled her wrist as she consulted her watch.

‘We’re not that old.’

‘Some days it feels like it though, right?’

‘Tay, you look more tired than I feel.’

Her friend blew out a sharp breath and subsided onto the chair alongside the bed, fiddling with her necklace. ‘Honestly, I’m shattered. I don’t know how much longer I can keep the practice open. I thought, when Doc Clarke announced he was retiring as soon as I came back from leave, we’d be able to get someone else in quick enough. I mean, we’re not that remote. But there’s just no way to induce practitioners to come out from the city.’

‘And yet, here you are,’ Amelia teased.

‘Yeah, well, we can’t offer every GP a hot farmer, can we?’ Taylor grinned. ‘By the way, thanks for adding to my repertoire with this one.’

‘This one?’

‘ORF—scabby mouth in sheep, according to Luke, but it’s a zoonotic viral, so humans can catch it. The parapoxvirus lives in the environment—which is a pretty gross thought—and sheep get it through abrasions. I double checked with Matt Krueger, and he said that your two probably cut their lips butting up against their bottles.’

They certainly did that often enough; in fact, Karmaa had destroyed a couple of the bottles.

Amelia pushed up in the bed. ‘Can they be cured?’ The cost didn’t matter.

‘Matt reckons once the virus runs its course, they’ll be fine. No need for treatment, though he swung by and put some Betadine on their blisters—Charlee had asked him for some advice with the rest of your menagerie, wanted to make sure she was doing stuff right.’ Taylor indicated Amelia’s hand. ‘That cut allowed the virus into your body. Normally ORF is no big deal, just an ugly abrasion and maybe a slight fever. But if you’re run down or immune compromised, it can turn into a secondary infection. Or in your case, into full-blown blood poisoning with fevers and hallucinations. Nicely done, you. Why didn’t you come to me as soon as the infection turned bad?’

‘For precisely the reason you just mentioned. You’re crazy busy, Tay. I wasn’t going to come to you for a graze.’

Taylor unbandaged the offending hand, inspecting Amelia’s welted knuckle. ‘Didn’t you notice the veins in your arm were all swollen and purple?’

‘Sure. But I figured it’d sort itself out.’

‘You could have lost that arm. It’s so lucky your dad called me.’

‘I don’t even know how he managed that. It’s years since he met you—I’m surprised he knew where to call.’

Taylor bathed Amelia’s hand with antiseptic, tweezering off some necrotic flesh and wiping it onto a gauze pad. ‘He said he’d tried to call you all night and wasn’t sure whether you were ignoring him because you’d had words. But when you didn’t respond to his messages by morning, he hit the panic button. He called the clinic, not me, and left a message with the service. Said it was his last option before calling the police station in Murray Bridge and demanding a welfare check. As soon as the service forwarded the message, I raced in from the farm. Lynn met me here with the spare key. If you hadn’t improved within twelve hours of the antibiotics, you’d have found yourself in Murray Bridge hospital. Heath was keen to get you there, regardless.’

Amelia flinched. ‘Rather you just left me here to quietly cark it.’

‘Not on my watch,’ Taylor said firmly. ‘Or, rather, on Charlee’s watch.’

‘Yeah, what is with that?’

Taylor rebandaged her hand. ‘She volunteered. Seems you’ve got something of a fan. Tracey also offered to sit with you, but Charlee wouldn’t have a bar of it. Moved herself in here and no one’s kicking her out.’

‘We have a lot in common.’ Things that no one ever wanted to share—yet somehow Amelia felt a little lighter for knowing that finally someone understood her mixture of guilt and grief.

‘I know,’ Taylor said softly. ‘Life is unfair. Bad things happen to good people and good things happen to bad people.’

‘Widely acknowledged as “shit happens”,’ Charlee said as she appeared in the open doorway. ‘Speaking of, do you have a shirt I can borrow, Amelia? Dusty took a dump all over me. I need to shower and change, but I didn’t bring any extra clothes with me.’

‘I can run you out to your dad’s?’ Taylor said, though she glanced at her watch.

‘Nah, I meant I didn’t pack any extra when we left Adelaide. We were only coming up for a couple of days.’

Amelia wondered if all of Charlee’s clothes were the same mix of oversized plaid shirt and filthy jeans. She gestured at the dresser. ‘Help yourself. Though you’ll probably have to wrap anything of mine twice around you.’

Taylor stood, repacking her bag. ‘If you’re staying here a couple more days, Charlee, I’ll mention it to Tracey. She’s the Johnny Appleseed of second-hand clothes.’

Charlee frowned. ‘Meaning?’

‘She has a knack for collecting unwanted clothes and sprinkling them around the district.’

‘Man. I used to love thrifting.’ The sudden wistfulness in the teenager’s tone was unmistakable.

‘Tracey is my go-to when I don’t have time to get the laundry done.’ Taylor grimaced. ‘Which lately seems to be every other week, but let’s not think about that, because I might just fall down in a sobbing heap. Honestly, I had no idea how hard it was going to be to work and raise a baby.’ She flinched. ‘Sorry, Amelia.’

Amelia dismissed the apology with a flick of her hand. She couldn’t expect no one to mention children. As it was, Taylor had shared little about her pregnancy and birth, knowing that Amelia was mired in her grief.

‘Okay, ladies,’ Taylor continued as she made for the door, ‘I’ll be back tomorrow, but you know where to find me if you need me before then.’

‘It’s only eight and she sounds stuffed,’ Charlee said, as the doctor left.

‘Yeah. I’m worried about her. She said her mum lives in the Adelaide Hills and is thinking about moving back to Settlers, but it really needed to happen months ago. I know that Luke pulls his weight, but they’ve got a lot on their plates.’

‘Maybe what she said about having someone local to provide childcare was on point,’ Charlee suggested. ‘But you’re dead set against that idea?’

Amelia closed her eyes for a long moment. She avoided sharing the details of her story, unwilling to risk making it more real. But Charlee, with her deliberate self-neglect and inherent self-loathing, needed someone who understood guilt and grief to be straight with her.

She took a steadying breath. ‘When Noah died, he was under the care of a governess because I was out working on our property. He went missing, and I was the one who found him. He’d drowned. And, as much as I blame myself for his death, I also blame the girl who was supposed to be looking after him. So that makes it hard for me to be okay with anyone having their child in care. They’re too precious, too vulnerable.’

‘I get you,’ Charlee said slowly. ‘But sometimes—like with you working on the property and the doc having to keep the practice open—maybe paying for care is the only option?’ She shrugged. ‘What I really don’t get, though, is how you can carry this huge thing around with you and be like … normal .’

‘Most of the time,’ Amelia said dryly.

‘Most of the time,’ Charlee agreed with a chuckle, but then her expression grew serious again. ‘I mean, Ethan’s helped me get clean. Or I should say, is helping me, because who the hell knows how long it takes until you’re clean? He hasn’t used for nine years, but says he’s still an addict. Daideó’s got the same kind of deal happening. Anyway, even though things are better since I met Ethan, still it’s like—’ She thumped her chest with a balled fist. ‘It’s like there’s nothing but grief inside me. It’s a black hole consuming every other emotion, a cancer eating me up. The oxy, E, Molly, they took that ache away for a while.’ She chewed on her lips and Amelia waited, knowing there was more. ‘It’s stupid, but I want everyone else to hurt, too. How do you manage to be so bloody nice ?’ She hurled the word like an insult.

‘For the last few years, I’ve kept to myself, so there was no need to pretend to be nice. But I’m trying to do better. I’ve realised that, whatever their story, everyone is hurting, they just handle it in different ways. Take your grandfather, for instance. He’s grieving, but he does it with humour. Your dad, he tackles it another way.’

‘Yeah, by being a dick.’

Amelia tipped her head in amused acknowledgment. ‘Or by trying to make you happy. In any case, I know that sharing my pain won’t give away any part of it: it doesn’t lessen, doesn’t disappear.’ She gave a short laugh. ‘I’d managed to drive my husband away before I came to that realisation, though. I couldn’t stand to see him, knowing that neither of us had been there when Noah needed us.

‘Grief is a long, dark, lonely road, Charlee. But my sorrow is my burden, no one else’s. So I’ll carry it until I die, and hope like hell that’s the end of it.’