Free-Falling Page 6

  ‘Ahh, so boogie means . . .?’

  ‘It actually refers to a group of skydivers who make a jump together for kicks.’

  ‘All right, there’s only one thing I didn’t follow. You said he tries to “tune” girls. What am I missing there? Some kind of odd reference to transistor radios?’

  ‘Basically just means trying to hit on them, you know, like pick them up.’ Bazza gave her a sly smile and added, ‘Or court them, as I’m sure they said back in your day in what – the early eighteen-hundreds?’

  ‘Watch it there, kiddo, I’m not that fond of you yet!’

  ‘Hey,’ said Bazza, holding his hands up in defence. ‘I’m just trying to say, you’re really not as old as you make out you are, McGavin.’

  Evelyn smiled despite herself. She rather liked his habit of calling her by just her surname. He’d been doing it all afternoon and it had made her feel like she was just another one of his mates. It was rather enjoyable to be feeling young and hip once again.

  ‘You just might live to see another day, Barry.’

  ‘Ahh, McGavin, how many times do I have to tell you? It’s Bazza. Or Baz, if you like. Careful, you’re starting to show your age again.’

  ‘I take it back. You’re in big trouble there, mister.’ Evelyn pursed her lips and folded her arms menacingly, but there was a hint of a smile at the corners of her mouth and she thought to herself, Who would have thought it? I’m really getting to like this kid.

  Chapter 7

  Belinda

  ‘From what you’re describing, it sounds to me like you’ve been experiencing the beginnings of pervasive pregnancy denial, but the good thing is you’re here now.’

  The obstetrician gave Belinda an encouraging smile and patted her hand. ‘How about you hop up onto the bed here and we’ll take a look and see that everything is going along okay.’ She had just a hint of an Indian accent, which made her voice sound gentle and smooth.

  Belinda had spent the last forty-five minutes explaining to the doctor why she was having her first check-up so late. Stacey had been sitting next to her, interrupting with helpful comments like, ‘Last time we had a wine and cheese night, I wouldn’t let her have any Camembert cheese. I knew something was up, you know? And soft cheese is bad for pregnant people, right? Although I guess I should have tried to stop her from drinking all that wine . . .’

  As she climbed up onto the bed, Belinda asked the question that had been bothering her for the last few days – ever since she had finally accepted the fact that she was pregnant. ‘Um, how did this even happen? I only missed one pill. Didn’t even skip it, actually, just threw it up – is it really that unreliable?’

  ‘Honestly, it depends on the situation, sweetheart. I’ve had patients that have fallen pregnant simply from taking just one single pill at a different time of the day. Whereas others could take their doses as irregularly as an arrhythmic heartbeat and never fall pregnant—’ she paused here as though expecting some sort of appreciative reaction to her clever metaphor; when none was forthcoming, she continued. ‘Fact is, you just got lucky . . . I guess,’ she added a little falteringly.

  Belinda shivered then, as a cool gel was squeezed onto her belly and she looked the other way as Doctor Vashna tapped at her keyboard. As they waited for the image to appear on the monitor, a thought suddenly occurred to Belinda that she hadn’t even considered up until now. She seized the doctor’s wrist just as she was about to place the ultrasound device on her stomach.

  ‘Wait! The father is a twin! What if I’m carrying twins? Oh my God, oh my God, I can’t have two babies!’ She was almost hyperventilating when Doctor Vashna burst out laughing.

  ‘That’s why I’m the one who’s getting paid the big bucks here. The father being a twin has absolutely no bearing at all on your chances of falling pregnant with them. So stop worrying. You’re no more likely than I am to have a multiple birth. Can I possibly have my hand back, dear?’

  Belinda let her go and relaxed again, feeling more than a little embarrassed. The doctor placed the probe on her stomach and began to slide it around, pressing down quite firmly. A grainy image appeared on the screen. Belinda was peering at it, trying to make it out when Doctor Vashna abruptly stopped moving her hand.

  ‘Oh.’

  ‘What is it? What’s wrong?’ Belinda’s heart started to beat faster. There’s something wrong with it. I’ve stuffed this up by pretending it wasn’t there.

  ‘Nothing is wrong as such. In fact, this is really quite uncanny!’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Well, Belinda, are there any twins on your side of the family?’

  After her first obstetrician visit, Belinda found herself spending more and more time at the gym. She had been assured that exercise was still allowed, but had been told not to overdo it, or to let herself overheat. Doctor Vashna had also wanted to send her to a psychologist to discuss the period of pregnancy denial she had experienced, but Belinda had promised her that she was feeling much better about it all – even with the shock of discovering she was pregnant with twins. Twins!

  Late one evening, after a long day at uni, she dragged herself into the gym, feeling tired and irritable. She really would have preferred a nap on the couch. It was the last week of study before exams started and her lecturers were filling her head with revision-info overload. Jules had been sitting next to her in the last tutorial of the day and had sent a message to her Facebook page from her iPhone.

  Belinda had frowned with irritation. Apparently Jules was having trouble accepting the news of her pregnancy and understanding what that meant for her social life.

  Now that Belinda was at the gym, though, she tried to put thoughts of Jules and the others enjoying their cocktails out of her mind. She stepped onto the treadmill, adjusted the settings and started off with a slow walk. As she walked she chanted in her head: April 27, April 27, April 27. This was the date when her life was going to be changed beyond recognition. The date her twin babies were due. She was fifteen weeks’ pregnant and already starting to show a little. Oh, all right, already starting to show quite a lot really. No more blaming that tummy on all the late-night ice-cream, she thought somewhat bitterly. The knowledge that she had been pregnant way back before Andy had died seemed to alter her memories of the last couple of weeks with him. Now she pictured a tiny little presence alongside them as they went about their lives. Make that two tiny little presences.

  As she walked a little faster and pictured her and Andy doing the normal, everyday things – watching TV together, going out for drinks with their friends, playing Andy’s crazy soccer games – she began to feel anger rising up from deep in her gut. Anger with herself: now that she knew she was pregnant, it seemed so ridiculous that she hadn’t figured it out sooner – before Andy had been erased from her life. It wasn’t right, for him to be gone and not even know what he was missing out on. It wasn’t fair.

  She notched up the speed and felt angry with him. Why had he let this happen? He should have been more careful; he should have fought harder for his life. What if he had known? If she had been just a little smarter and had realised sooner, had told him the news – would that have given him the reason he needed? The strength to find a way to stay alive?

  Her walk became a jog. She pounded her feet in time to the bass of the dance music that was pumping through the gym.

  So you knocked me up.

  With TWINS.

  And now you’re gone.

  And you don’t even know about any of this.

  And I didn’t get to say goodbye.

  She could feel herself about to lose it, eyes becoming glassy, and she shook her head. She ran faster and faster and finally allowed herself to think about the real reason she was so angry with him. She began to remember the day Andy died.

  It was early evening and she
was running late to pick him up from work. Everything up to the moment she parked near his office block was crisp and clear in her memory. After that, it got very, very blurry. First, there was his mate Michael Coombes running out of the front doors and calling to her, ‘Something’s happened, down the road at a convenience store – Andy’s there.’ Then she was running as fast as she could, following Coombes to the end of the block. There was a crowd of people out the front. Police cars, an ambulance – flashing lights and a whining siren. No one seemed to know exactly what was going on inside.

  Suddenly Andy’s mum was striding toward her. Tall and capable in her crisp business suit, heels clickety-clacking across the bitumen. She had slid her sunglasses up on top of her head where they sat perched in her short, red hair. Belinda still didn’t know where she had come from, how she had known to be there. But she had squeezed Belinda’s arm and assured her, ‘Don’t worry, sweetheart, I’ll find out what’s going on. It’s going to be fine.’ The first – and last – nice thing she’d ever said to her. Then Evelyn marched straight past the protesting police officers and into the shop. Belinda had stood waiting, watching Coombes’s anxious face. She’d felt nervous but not really that worried. This wasn’t real. It was like she was watching an episode of NCIS or something. This had nothing to do with her. Nothing to do with their lives. Nothing could have happened to Andy.

  Could it?

  And then there were whispers through the crowd. Someone is dead in there.

  Well, okay – but not Andy, right?

  At some point amongst all the chaos she’d felt her mobile phone vibrate with a message. She pulled it out of her pocket and held it in her hand. She would look at it in a minute, when she knew that everything really was all right. Of course it would be – she just needed confirmation, that’s all.

  But then there was Evelyn emerging from the store. She’d never be able to forget her face. And she knew. She heard Coombes suck his breath in next to her, felt his hand grasp her arm tightly. That’s when, for some reason, she looked at the phone and she saw the message. It was from Andy. Her heart skipped a beat. She had pressed the buttons to open the message with trembling hands.

  There it was. The last thing he would ever say to her. It was just two words, and remembering those words was like having her chest torn apart.

  Because she was late to pick him up from work that day. Meaning he blamed her, because if she had been on time, everything would have been different. Meaning it was her fault that he was dead.

  And he was right.

  She hadn’t even realised that she’d slipped until she saw the front of the treadmill rushing away from her, and then the ceiling and the floor all seeming to tumble around her. Moments later she was lying flat on her back on the prickly carpet of the gym floor with a very sore tailbone. She closed her eyes, mortified, praying for this to be one of those terrible dreams. It wasn’t. She must have briefly passed out because the next thing she knew she was waking up on a couch in the staffroom of the gym, with an icepack on her head and a girl peering into her face while enthusiastically chewing gum.

  Belinda sat up slowly. She slid awkwardly along the couch and out from under the young woman’s eager gaze.

  ‘How’s the head feelin’ there, love?’ She had a strong ocker accent, accentuated by the noisy gum chewing.

  ‘Just fine, thanks. Umm, can I go?’

  ‘Sure, no wuckers, just give me your autograph on this incident report form and we’re all done. No pre-existing medical condition we oughta know about is there, hon?’ The girl’s eyes flicked down to Belinda’s stomach and then back up again. She raised her eyebrows as she waited.

  Belinda bit the inside of her cheek nervously. Obviously pregnancy might be a condition worth noting, but she really just wanted to get out of there.

  ‘Not that I can think of,’ she said as casually as she could manage.

  ‘Looks like we can let you go then.’ The girl paused, then added in a tone that suggested she simply couldn’t help herself, ‘Impressive fall, though. Any idea how you managed to come off?’ There was also just a hint of amusement at the edges of her voice.

  Belinda cried all the way home.

  She had just stepped out of the lift, still feeling somewhat fragile, when she saw something on the floor outside her apartment door. As she got closer, she realised it was a bunch of red roses, beautifully arranged in clear cellophane and tied with a white, silk ribbon. A note was attached.

  She picked up the flowers and held them under one arm as she unlocked her door and walked inside. As soon as she had kicked off her shoes and dumped her gym bag, she phoned first Jules and then Stacey to see if one of them had left the roses.

  ‘Ooh la la,’ said Jules. ‘Someone’s got a secret admirer!’

  ‘When would I have time to bring you flowers?’ snapped Stacey.

  Belinda had paused, knowing that Stacey was going to hate what she said next. ‘What if it was Andy?’

  ‘Belinda, are you feeling okay? You might recall that Andy is in fact dead, right?’

  Belinda had pressed on. ‘You know, I did remember that, but what if he’s haunting me? It’s just that the flowers were waiting for me here after I just had the worst experience at the gym. I was all upset and then here are these flowers saying, “To brighten your day”. No one knew about what just happened to me at the gym. And Andy was always buying me flowers when I needed cheering up.’

  ‘Actually, Andy was always buying you flowers when you two had had a fight. And you’re telling me even as a ghost he couldn’t finally get it right and deliver lilies – your favourite?’ She had sounded triumphant, adding, ‘What exactly did happen at the gym anyway?’

  ‘That’s not really important.’ A quick subject change. ‘All right, detective, then who did leave them?’

  ‘You said they didn’t even say your name, right?’

  ‘Uh huh.’

  ‘Wrong apartment.’ Stacey stated it as though it were fact.

  ‘What? So they’re not even for me? Great, I feel much better.’

  ‘You asked, I answered.’

  Belinda made herself a late dinner and spent the night glancing doubtfully every once in a while at the gorgeous bunch of roses. She didn’t know why she had been so quick to jump to the conclusion that Andy was somehow responsible. I suppose you thought he’d ordered them from some ghost-florist on the spiritual plane, she chided herself sarcastically. She got carried away then, picturing a wispy-looking Andy strolling along a misty, winding pathway. He was heading for a bright light up ahead when a plump, transparent woman bounded out from the fog. ‘Flowers for the bereaved! Don’t go into the afterlife without first acknowledging the loved ones you’ve left behind! Bunch of daisies for your widow, dear?’ (For some reason, she would have a strong cockney accent.)

  Belinda snorted contemptuously at herself. She’d heard about ‘pregnancy brain’ but this was ridiculous. ‘I know, I know, I’m losing it,’ she said to the puppy as she grabbed the rubbish from the kitchen bin ready to take it to the garbage chute. She opened her apartment door and was just about to step into the hall when something bright caught her eye. A new bunch of flowers was sitting just outside her door. Lilies. She let the garbage bag fall from her hand, then slammed the door shut without picking up the flowers. She backed away and snatched up her phone, hitting the redial button.

  ‘Stacey, can you come over – like now?’

  Twenty minutes later, Stacey was walking into her apartment, carrying the lilies that she’d picked up in the hallway.

  ‘They’re still perfectly good flowers,’ she said sensibly.

  ‘They’re ghost flowers!’

  Stacey put the back of her hand to Belinda’s forehead as though checking her temperature. ‘Delirious,’ she diagnosed. ‘Belinda, you don’t even watch Supernatural, and the guys in t
hat are hot. You can’t tell me you suddenly believe in all this nonsense.’

  ‘You’re the one who had to say he couldn’t even get it right in the afterlife.’ Another image of the ghostly florist popped into her head and she saw Andy ducking back inside the shop: ‘Sorry, do you think I could get some lilies as well? Apparently I got it wrong – as usual!’

  Stacey arranged the lilies neatly in a vase and placed them next to the roses. ‘There’s a note with these as well,’ she said, pulling the card off the wrapping.

  ‘What does it say?’

  Stacey held it up so Belinda could see just one word scrawled across the card: a cheerful looking ‘Sorry!’

  ‘See! They’re from Andy. He eavesdropped on our phone call and he’s apologising for getting it wrong the first time!’ Belinda looked up at the ceiling as though expecting Andy to materialise above them. ‘Hey, if you’re listening, I wouldn’t mind some help with these bloody twins you’ve put inside me,’ she called out, sounding a little crazed.

  Stacey took her by the hands and sat her down gently on the couch. ‘Have you been drinking red cordial?’ she asked in a very serious voice. ‘Look, how about you tell me exactly what did happen tonight at the gym?’

  Belinda reluctantly explained how she’d fallen from the treadmill and woken up in the staffroom, embarrassed and upset. She waited for Stacey to laugh at her, but she couldn’t have looked more serious.

  ‘You’re pregnant. You can’t just ignore a fall like that. You have to see a doctor.’