Free-Falling Page 7

  Belinda instantly felt irritated. ‘I think I know my own body. I’m fine and so are any life forms depending on me.’

  ‘Life forms? Interesting choice of words. Belinda, I think you’re feeling a little too disconnected from your unborn babies. I think that’s why you didn’t even care enough to go and get checked out after the fall.’

  Typical Stace, not one to hold back.

  ‘I cannot believe you just said that. Of course I care about them. I just happen to know that everything is fine.’

  ‘Did your ghost-fiancé tell you that? What, is he psychic, too?’

  ‘Look, I’m not in the mood for this. Maybe you should go home. I think I just want to go to bed.’

  ‘Yeah right. You think you can call me over here to deal with your issues and then just kick me out? I’m not Andrew, Belinda. You can’t pick a fight with me and expect me to bite, just because you’re feeling guilty and need to take it out on someone. I’m not that easy to provoke, sweetie. Put your shoes on, I’m taking you to the medical centre.’

  ‘Stacey, I’m already in my pyjamas.’

  This was how Belinda ended up in the waiting room of the twenty-four-hour medical centre, yet again. She wasn’t looking quite as bad as last time, but still interesting enough in her pyjamas to raise a few eyebrows.

  ‘Heartford. Belinda Heartford,’ murmured the receptionist, tapping on her keyboard. She paused and looked up. ‘Oh, yes, Belinda Heartford. You’re the funny young girl that was in here with a puppy, of all things!’ She beamed up at her and Belinda saw the name badge pinned to her blouse: ‘Rita’.

  Wonderful, it was the woman who had lectured her over the phone a month or so back.

  Rita looked her up and down, then leant forward to hiss confidentially, ‘I take it you haven’t been to see a therapist yet, then?’

  Belinda was saved from having to answer by Stacey elbowing her aside. ‘Could you get her in to see a doctor as soon as possible, please? She’s pregnant with twins and was stupid enough to try running on a treadmill today and ended up falling.’

  Rita gasped. ‘Goodness, twins! And a fall to boot? That’s not good at all. Although I’m not sure that we’ll be able to do much for her here. She really needs to go and see her obstetrician.’

  ‘Yes, well, how about we let a doctor decide that, shall we?’ Stacey had a habit of being just as abrupt with strangers as she was with her best friends.

  Rita didn’t seem to mind, though, nodding in agreement. ‘Of course, we have a wonderfully talented staff of doctors here.’ She turned to look at Belinda. ‘How about I see if I can get you in to Doctor Brookes? I’m sure you’ve been wanting to thank him for looking after that dog of yours, haven’t you?’

  Belinda opened her mouth, ready to say that she’d just as soon see whichever doctor was available next as she wasn’t too keen to hang around here in her PJs, but Stacey had already agreed on her behalf and was prodding her and motioning for her to sit down.

  Rita’s warnings were proved right. Doctor Brookes was lovely, but there wasn’t a lot he could do for her there at the medical centre. He checked her blood pressure, examined her stomach and attempted to listen to the babies’ heartbeats using a fetoscope, which he proudly told them was his own from home. (It turned out Doctor Brookes had a special interest in obstetrics despite it not being his speciality). But it was difficult for him to tell whether he was hearing two separate heartbeats or the same one twice as he moved around Belinda’s stomach. He suggested she schedule an extra check-up with her obstetrician to be sure that everything was fine.

  ‘Now, about the puppy you brought in . . .’ he said, turning to look at Belinda again.

  Stacey cut him off. ‘Yes, yes, we all know – the girl’s delusional for bringing a dog here. I’ve already lectured her about it, so save it.’

  Belinda avoided the doctor’s eyes as Stacey pushed her out the door, for once appreciative of her friend’s abrupt nature.

  Back at the apartment, when Belinda finally had Stacey out of her hair, she started thinking that it could be time to get away from her friends for a little while and visit her family, especially seeing as she had some news that she supposed she needed to tell them. For the first few weeks after Andy had died, she’d been on the phone to her mum almost every second day. Sometimes it was just a quick phone call where she could predict their conversation almost down to the last word.

  ‘And how are you coping today?’

  ‘Bit better thanks, Mum.’

  ‘And uni?’

  ‘Good, going well.’

  ‘Work?’

  ‘Great, I’m loving it. How’s the farm?’

  ‘Oh, it’s still here.’

  And they would dance around the deeper issues, carefully avoiding Andy’s name. But at other times, Barbara would break through (whether she had intended to or not) and Belinda would open up, finding herself crying down the phone, while her mum just whispered, ‘Ssshh, it’s all going to be okay, baby, sshhhh.’

  However, once Stacey had made Belinda face up to reality and accept that she was pregnant, she’d started to avoid talking to her mum, afraid to tell her the news. She lay in bed imagining what her mother would say. It wasn’t as though her parents were hardcore traditionalists, but they were still going to be a bit shocked that Belinda and Andy had let this happen before the wedding . . . a wedding that would never take place now. It was probably best if she put off telling them. In a few more weeks, her exams would be finished and she’d be driving up to the farm to spend Christmas with the family, so why bother trying to explain it all over the phone?

  She felt movement at the end of the bed and lifted her head to see the puppy curling up by her feet. ‘Where did you come from?’ she asked, smiling as it tried its best to look inconspicuous. ‘Yep, definitely time to take you to your new home on the farm; you’re starting to get way too comfortable here. Hey buddy,’ she continued as though she half expected the puppy to join in the conversation, ‘you might finally be given a name!’

  Every member in Belinda’s family had a name starting with the letter ‘B’ and she supposed the theme would continue on with the puppy as well. The tradition had begun with her parents, Barbara and Brett, who had earned the nickname B ’n’ B (sometimes extended to Bed ’n’ Breakfast) from their friends when they’d first gotten together. It had seemed only natural to continue the custom with their kids. They even went so far as to christen Belinda’s sister ‘Becky’, rather than Rebecca, to make it more official than just a nickname. Belinda had always been fond of their similar names; it seemed to somehow enhance the family’s close-knit relationships. She was sure that there had been just a tiny bit of disappointment in her mum’s voice when she had first been introduced to Andy – the letter ‘A’, so close! Belinda’s ex-boyfriend’s name was Ben and he had just about had instant approval from her parents based solely on his name.

  Jeez, if I can’t even name a dog that’s been keeping me company for over two months, what chance do these little guys have? She instinctively touched her stomach. Little guys. Or is it girls in there? Or maybe, between the two of you, you’re representing both genders, eh?

  She felt a shiver travel up her spine and watched goosebumps appear on her arms. This was the first time she had really acknowledged the two new human beings that were growing inside her. It felt even stranger than chatting to the puppy.

  She took a deep breath, then whispered nervously, ‘Listen, guys. I just wanted to tell you that I’m really sorry about today. I never meant to do anything that might put you two in any danger.’ Her voice started to crack and she rushed on, ‘I know so far I’m not shaping up to be the best mum, but um . . . I’m going to try and improve, okay? So good night and be good and no fighting with each other in there.’

  She switched off her bedside lamp and rolled onto her side, snuggl
ing into the pillows. A tear slipped down her cheek, but there was a smile on her face as she drifted into sleep, her arms wrapped protectively around her stomach.

  Chapter 8

  Evelyn

  ‘Evelyn McGavin speaking.’

  ‘Oh! Hi. Um, is this . . . is this James and Andy’s mum?’

  Evelyn huffed a little at the immature, breathy sound of the girl’s voice. ‘James and Andrew? Yes, this is she.’ She tugged irritably on the phone cord and waited for this unfamiliar and therefore irrelevant girl to get to the point.

  ‘Right, yeah, Andrew I meant. Uh, you wouldn’t really know me. I went to school with them – your sons. Actually, I was a couple of years above them and it’s just that Andy asked me out once and, uh, well, he was so sweet and . . . Oh, sorry, I mean Andrew. But, look, that’s getting kind of off point. So . . . anyway, I heard through some friends of friends and stuff that . . . Andrew had—’ There was an uncomfortable sounding cough.

  ‘Spit it out, dear.’ Evelyn examined her fingernails as she waited for the girl to get on with it. She was in no mood to be patient and sensitive.

  ‘Is Andy dead?’ The words tumbled out in a rush followed immediately by a gasp as though the girl was shocked by her own bluntness.

  Evelyn sighed. This one sounded even worse than that silly Belinda, but she supposed that she could cut her a little slack. ‘Yes. I’m sorry to say that he has passed away. I’m afraid you’ve missed the funeral, though, it’s actually been a few weeks . . . months, in fact, since . . .’ It was Evelyn’s turn to find that she was struggling with the right words.

  ‘Oh, no, that’s okay. It’s just that I wanted to – you know – pass on my condolences. So yeah, I’m really sorry. He seemed like a nice kid. Although I suppose he wasn’t really a kid anymore. Not to say that he wasn’t young . . . because he was. I’m not trying to say he’d already lived a full life or something like that. Because I know – you know, he was young so it must have been . . . hard. You know, for you. And for James, of course.’ The more the girl tried to explain herself, the more upset she sounded, as though she just couldn’t stop herself. There was an awkward pause and when Evelyn refused to fill the silence, the girl said in a rush, ‘I’m just gonna go then.’

  The stark vulnerability in her voice gave Evelyn a twinge of sympathy, so she relented and said quickly, ‘What’s your name?’ before the girl could hang up.

  ‘Tania Stevens,’ she answered obediently.

  ‘Well, Tania, thank you for your call. I appreciate you taking the time.’

  Relief flooded her voice as Tania began to gush again. ‘That’s no problem at all. Like I said, I just wanted to tell you that I was so sad to hear about it and it was just a shock, you know? But then, you know that already, don’t you? Because obviously it would have been even more of a shock to you and I hardly even knew him that well, so you probably don’t need to be told by complete strangers that it was a shock when you—’

  ‘Tania?’ Evelyn cut her short.

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘Quit while you’re ahead.’

  ‘Right. Yes. Umm . . . bye then?’ She sounded unsure.

  ‘Goodbye.’ Evelyn tried to keep her voice kind as she confirmed that it was actually time for the phone call to end.

  She hung up and stood leaning against the wall, tapping her fingers on the glass top of the hall table. Tania. Why was that name so familiar? It was giving her a strange feeling, a mixture of suppressed laughter and a tiny bit of sorrow. She concentrated harder and slowly a memory floated its way to the surface.

  She saw Andrew, thirteen years old, stomping his way into the house one afternoon, his tie askew, his face grubby, and hurling his school bag across the living room before disappearing into his bedroom and slamming the door behind him. James was through the front door moments later. His attempts at a pokerface were unmistakable.

  ‘What did you do to your brother?’

  A look of outrage. ‘Why do think it was me?’

  ‘Because only you have the capacity to get Andrew that worked up.’

  ‘I didn’t do nothin’. I was just trying to help.’

  ‘You didn’t do anything,’ Evelyn corrected.

  ‘Exactly!’ James looked pleased.

  Evelyn rolled her eyes. ‘No, that’s not what I meant . . . Never mind. Just tell me what happened at school today.’

  ‘No problem, Mum.’ James flopped down on the couch and started yanking off his scuffed school shoes. ‘First we had homeroom. Samantha Forresdale was five minutes late and old Big W went ape at her cause she’s been late every day this week, and so then Samantha just started crying – in front of everyone! Oh, man, it was a classic. But then her best friend, Linda, jumped up and called Big W a fat cow and said she couldn’t believe she was being so mean to Samantha when her Nanna had just died this morning. So Big W is all shocked that Linda just called her a fat cow and is also trying to figure out which guy up the back had called out “Moooo” – that was my piece of work, by the way – and at the same time, she looked like she actually felt guilty about Samantha being upset and so she’s patting Samantha on the shoulder and saying, “There, there,” and she was being nice for the first time in her life and we all thought it might give her a brain tumour or something, until Samantha looked up and said, “Thanks, Mrs Warren, it’s just that I loved that fish,” and then Big W is all gasping and staring at Linda with death-ray eyes and Linda’s like, “What? Her fish was called Nanna!” And then they both got put in detention plus—’

  ‘James.’

  ‘Yeah, Mum?’

  ‘Stop talking this instant.’

  ‘Well, okay, but you wanted to know what happened at school today and I haven’t even got past period one yet, so I gotta tell ya, you’re missing out on some choice info.’

  ‘Firstly, what could possibly make you think it would be a good idea to actually tell me that it was you making crass animal noises at your teacher? Next, I’ve told you in the past, do not refer to Mrs Warren as Big W. It’s rude and, worst of all, unoriginal. Finally, you know full well that I want to hear about what happened to upset Andrew, not every trivial event of your day – as riveting as it all sounds.’

  James stretched his arms up behind his head and then began to stroke his chin thoughtfully, as though he had a long goatee that he could twirl around his finger. Finally, he looked up at his mum and announced, ‘I’ll make you a deal. I’ll tell you exactly what happened today as long as you guarantee that I can watch as much TV as I like for the rest of the night.’

  ‘This is not a negotiation. Speak now or you’ll be lucky to ever see your Nintendo again.’

  James sat up a little straighter. ‘Okay, okay, no need to overreact here.’ He squinted thoughtfully as though getting the facts straight in his head first, then finally launched into the story.

  ‘Andy’s been hot for this chick that’s a couple of years above us for ages. I was getting totally sick of him whingeing about her, so today I decided it was time to do something about it. I was doing him a favour, Mum. Anyway, at lunch I just went straight up to her and asked her out for him.’ James puffed out his chest importantly.

  Evelyn’s eyes narrowed distrustfully. ‘Tell me exactly what you said to this girl.’

  ‘I can’t remember the exact words I used . . .’

  ‘James!’

  ‘All right, all right, I might have said something like, “My brother really wants to pop your cherry, and he cries himself to sleep every night about how pretty you are, so do you wanna go out with him or what?”’

  Evelyn gasped. ‘Oh, James, please tell me that’s not what you really said!’

  James saw the look of horror on his mum’s face and realised she was about to get really mad. ‘Sorry, gotta go!’ He jumped up off the couch, dodged passed her and
took off out into the backyard. Evelyn knew she wouldn’t catch him if she tried; the gate at the back of the yard led out into the reserve. She wouldn’t see him again until dinner time. She allowed herself a moment to wonder how Carl would deal with this if he were still around, and then composed her face before heading tentatively into Andy’s bedroom.

  ‘Andrew, sweetheart. Can we please have a chat?’

  He was lying face down on his bed, his head buried into his pillow. ‘Go away!’ came the muffled, shaky voice.

  ‘You know that’s not how it works in this house. I run a dictatorship, not a democracy. If I think we need to talk – then we talk.’ She sat down on the edge of his bed and tried to stroke his hair. ‘Your brother told me what he did at school today. Come on, sit up and let’s talk about this.’

  Andy turned towards his mum to show an angry, blotched, tear-stained face.

  ‘It was Tania Stevens, Mum. All her friends heard what he said to her. She looked over at me and just laughed. Like I was nothing. Like I was just a big joke. They must all think I’m some kind of crybaby idiot. I can’t believe he told her that I cry about her, cause I don’t. Why would I cry myself to sleep over her?’ He shoved his face back into his pillow. ‘Can you please just go away, Mum? There’s no point talking about this cause there’s nothing you can do about it.’

  ‘How do you know if you don’t give me the chance?’

  Andy sat up and gave his mum a contemptuous stare. ‘Can you turn back time?’

  ‘No, obviously I can’t turn back time,’ she snapped.

  ‘Then you can’t fix it, can you?’ He made to throw himself dramatically back into his pillow but she caught him by the elbow.

  ‘Enough moping. We can fix this. Your mum still has a few tricks up her sleeve. You just wait and see.’

  Evelyn was startled out of her trip down memory lane and back into the present by the sound of James’s footsteps thudding down the stairs.