In Jeopardy Page 7

  She wonders if Julian has filled Diana and her family in with what has happened in their lives.

  Diana asks, ‘What could you possibly be so tired from? Neither of you have children.’

  Julian speaks for both of them, glossing over some of the more distressing events that have filled their lives both in the past and present. Deafening silence descends and fills the space while Diana and her family listen without interruption. Conversation that follows becomes more relaxed and the siblings talk about shared experiences from their past and fill each other in on general events that have occupied their lives since they last met. They talk into the small hours of the morning and sleep in late.

  Diana shows Christine her workshop and showroom. These are the two front rooms of their sprawling Californian bungalow. Half-finished garments in her workroom look exquisite, reflecting the workmanship of an artist and her attention to detail.

  Diana transformed herself from an accountant into a dressmaker. She tells Christine that her business evolved by accident rather than intention. When Natasha was born she planned to return to the accounting practice she had worked at since leaving Melbourne. This plan was disrupted when Natasha was struck with pneumonia at four months of age. As she was recovering from this illness she developed complications that resulted in a lengthy stay in hospital. Months after she was discharged from hospital she started to cough frantically, often seeming out of breath. This was the onset of asthma and as this is unusual for children less than twelve months old Diana wasn’t prepared to leave her at a childcare centre.

  One of the reasons she was returning to work was to fund renovations planned before the children were born. The house was charming and neglected in equal measure. Living on Paul’s income alone meant these plans were put on hold. Before Natasha turned one Diana made arrangements to return to work, but Paul was made a partner at the accounting practice he worked at. Diana remained at home with the children and although their finances improved she despaired at how bored she became.

  Boredom made Diana querulous and when Paul tired of her complaints he suggested she enrol in a short course to occupy herself. And given that she also complained about the state of disrepair the house was in he added that she could check the Adult Education Centre and enrol in a gardening or house maintenance course.

  She felt insulted by Paul’s advice. At the time she stormed out of the kitchen, slept in the spare bed in Natasha’s room and didn’t speak to him the next morning. However, she took Paul’s advice and by the time he returned home from work her gloomy mood had lifted. The first course she enrolled in was basic sewing, followed by making soft toys then dressmaking. She discovered she had a passion for sewing. She made the children’s clothes and this interest evolved to a vocation. Working as an accountant had passed its use-by date.

  Christine wonders whether fate has brought the siblings together again. Did Julian’s accident and her marriage breakdown miraculously throw them into the same space? Despite Diana’s aloofness she accommodates them. Her face lights up when they add vignettes about their lives and she seems touched by their visit. Since Julian’s accident his attitude has shifted from one where he wanted to pack in more activity than one can fit into a lifetime. Now he appreciates life’s surprises and savours the moment. Christine doesn’t know what she wants; only that life keeps throwing questions at her that she cannot seem to find answers to.

  The evening before Christine returns home the atmosphere in the dining room is flat. Earlier that day Julian had treated Christine, and Diana’s family, to a high tea at The Buckthorn, a five star hotel facing the Swan River. No one is particularly hungry that evening and they pick at a light meal.

  Diana’s family don’t talk much about Lawrence and Natasha’s lives apart from where they go to school and their various interests. Natasha has been practicing ballet since she was five and attends several classes a week. Lawrence is in his final year at school, plays rugby for the First Fifteen and is a member of Nedlands local sailing club. Paul rarely initiates conversation. Although he prefers to listen to others talk he often finds himself becoming the arbitrator of argument and discord.

  Julian breaks the ice by asking his niece and nephew what excites them at the moment and what their plans for the future are. He starts with Lawrence. ‘Year twelve’s a big year for you. What are your plans when you leave school?’

  ‘I’ve shortlisted some university courses, but I have no real plans.’

  Diana says, ‘Yes you have. You’ve already chosen your preferences.’

  ‘I can still change them.’

  ‘You’re not going to do that. We’ve already discussed this matter and you agreed you’ll stick with your best options.’

  ‘Mum – there’s no we here – this is what you want.’

  Interrupting, speaking at the same time, Paul and Natasha break in, ‘Time to change the subject.’

  Lawrence says, ‘I want to hear what Christine and Julian have to say.’

  A long pause amplifies the tension. Christine is too afraid of Diana’s sharp tongue to offer an opinion.

  Julian looks across the table at Christine, notes her pursed lips, and speaks for both of them. ‘What have you put down for, Lawrie?’

  ‘He wants to do a number of impractical things that will lead to nothing.’

  ‘It’s my life.’

  ‘You’re not going to throw your life away on an empty dream – we won’t let you.’

  ‘When did you ask dad what I can and can’t do?’ Lawrence directs his gaze at Paul. ‘Dad, do you have a problem with me studying bio-medicine or physio in Sydney or Melbourne?’

  ‘You can study here in Perth – this is your home. You don’t know anyone in Melbourne.’

  ‘I know Christine.’

  Diana flushes red. ‘I don’t mean that – I mean younger people.’

  Paul plays peacemaker. ‘I think it’s time this conversation ends.’

  ‘Not when it’s about my life.’ Lawrence turns to Christine. ‘Tell them that Melbourne universities are filled with overseas and interstate students.’

  ‘I guess, in the same way as Sydney, Perth and other capital cities.’

  ‘No more about interstate study. As you don’t qualify for government assistance we will have to foot the bill.’

  Lawrence shoots his mother an angry look. He blurts out, ‘Christine tell them how much better Melbourne is than this dump.’

  Diana returns an equally angry look and says, ‘And we don’t need to hear about your plans to delay your studies to work in a boatshed.’

  Diana drives Lawrence and Natasha to school before taking Christine to the airport.

  Lawrence says, ‘It a shame you can’t stay longer.’

  Natasha adds, ‘Next time you can tell us more about Melbourne.’

  ‘Maybe we’ll just come visit you.’

  Diana wades in. ‘Wait a minute guys, who said anything about interstate travel?’

  Julian remains in Perth for another few more days before he returns to the east coast to assist a team of rookie journalists to wrap up their project.

  Chapter Ten

  The ward is a flurry of activity when Christine returns. Richard almost fades from her mind. Unseasonably warm Melbourne weather lingers and brings in a rush of casualties. Hoards of daredevil types, mostly young people living a comfortable existence, flood the Emergency Ward. Others susceptible to broken limbs are cashed up types – bankers and stock brokers securing six figure deals with clever talk and the stroke of a pen. They seem to overestimate their ability to engage in outdoor pursuits. They mistakenly believe any obstacle is simply mind over matter, and that self-belief and motivation can master anything.

  Every day blends into night without Christine noticing. She takes on extra shifts, finishes exhausted and usually collapses into a lounge chair or bed when she returns to the apartment. It is easier for her to work extra shifts than organise colleagues reluctant to work longer hours to take on another shif
t. For a number of days she neglects to check her inbox. She eats, sleeps, reads newspaper headlines, flicks through trashy magazines and engages in small talk at the hospital.

  She steps out of the treatment room where she has been part of a team giving a young man a blood transfusion. He presented at the hospital bruised and with superficial cuts to his face. He was barely conscious, resulting from a stab wound to the lower back. Her team monitor his blood pressure, the intravenous drip, heart and kidney function, as two puncture marks have missed his left kidney by millimetres.

  Annie bails Christine up. ‘Your brother left two messages at the nurse’s station. Go and call him now. Don’t bother cleaning up first – it’s not like your brother will see you covered in blood.’

  ‘I have to attend to…’

  ‘I’ll cover for you. Where were you off to?’

  ‘There’s a patient in Casualty, he’ll be here any moment. He’s in for a blood transfusion and treatment in room 1011. Thanks Annie – I owe you.’

  ‘Off you go – let’s not turn this into a guilt session.’

  When Christine picks up the phone she realises Julian could be anywhere. It seems so long since they spoke he may be calling from London.

  He answers ahead of the second ring. ‘Hi Christine – don’t you check your emails?’

  Julian promptly reminds her that she hasn’t checked her emails for some days. She wonders if some crisis is flashing in her inbox while she has been blissfully detached from her life. These days her social life is contained within the hospital’s walls. Friends and social contacts, mainly from Richard’s network, along with her renewed contact with family, have since been forgotten and amputated from her life. She is slow to recall that she last spoke to Julian the day after she returned from Perth; over a week ago.

  ‘I haven’t yet. Have I missed something?’

  ‘It’s my guess you’ve been all work and no play.’

  ‘Unfortunately the job has required one hundred and ten per cent of my time and energy over these last few days. Delays can be disastrous. Medical workers are required to restore patients back to health ahead of their own wellbeing.’

  ‘I am afraid for you; you could be on your way to some kind of burnout.’

  ‘What did you say?’

  ‘I thought I hammered home to you the perils of a twenty-four seven lifestyles. If you’re not careful your work will drag the last breath out of you.’

  ‘Thanks for your concern.’

  ‘Christine, I’m serious, there’s no humour here!’

  Julian arrived in Melbourne a few days earlier. The project on the antipodes is complete. Most of the journalists assigned to the project have returned to the UK. A few like Julian have taken leave to extend their stay in Australia.

  ‘Diana and Lawrence have emailed. As you have not returned their emails they’re worried that you are either unwell or that their family drama offended you.’

  He doesn’t need to tell her that he reassured Diana she had imagined the worst. They both know that Diana is a born worrier. He doesn’t need to remind her that their sister is flighty, given to hysterics and outbursts she seems to have no control over. Christine couldn’t help noticing that during their recent visit, beneath Diana’s pleasant and restrained manner, her face appeared tight and tense a number of times.

  ‘Are you free tonight? Can you meet me for dinner?’

  ‘I’m working until seven tonight.’

  He books a restaurant that is walking distance from the hospital. He picks Christine up at the hospital foyer. They remain at the restaurant until late, unaware that the place has emptied. The manager stands and waits a short distance from their table until Julian looks up and locks eyes with him. He turns to Christine. ‘I hadn’t realised that we are the last patrons.’

  The place has become cavernous. A number of lights have been switched off, candles extinguished, making the space shadowy. Christine imagines the dead rising from their graves to meet after midnight when the living and their noise have retreated. This is what they do. She has seen and heard them gather in abandoned recesses of the hospital alone, in pairs or in groups.

  ‘I didn’t mean to listen in.’

  Julian looks at his watch. ‘It’s that time already!’

  ‘Sorry, we don’t offer room service.’ The manager assures them they need not rush. Yet they understand that despite the man’s polite manner, they are close to outstaying their welcome.

  Julian leaves Christine with much to mull over. She sees that she is defined by her work and routines that keep her restricted to a life that is fast becoming claustrophobic. She is a crazed rat rushing through a nebulous maze, desperate to escape – to where?

  Until Julian asked Christine how long she intends to remain in hospital residence she hadn’t considered this matter. Perhaps she would leave when the hospital finally threw her out or after the property settlement. Julian surmised that Christine’s work has become a distraction from the marriage breakdown, effectively masking the brutal treatment Richard subjected his sister to. He told her he admires her resilience but is concerned that her grief and obsession with her work will result in physical and metal exhaustion or nervous collapse.

  She cannot image herself as a patient. She is a healer and must remain well. She doesn’t think about whether she likes or dislikes nursing. It is a vocation and since she has worked in this profession for almost fifteen years of service she assumes without question that an unseen hand has been involved. Her work has kept her absorbed and occupied. The speed at which the ward operates does not easily allow members of her profession the luxury of reflecting on job satisfaction.

  Before she worked in Emergency she worked for Orthopaedics for almost a decade, where many of her patients had arrived at Emergency first. As both wards were often short staffed Christine was required to don doctor’s gloves, cut and stitch the injured. She worked alongside colleagues who struggled and complained about the demands that came with the job; many of them abandoning the hospital and medical profession. For Christine the hospital was a refuge from Richard’s darker moods and his frequent criticism of her failings.

  She didn’t think that their relationship would end and it came as a shock when he demanded that she leave. She believed, or convinced herself, that despite Richard’s affairs she served a special place and purpose in his life. She anticipates there will be a showdown between them. Yet she desperately wants to salvage the relationship and pushes his cruel words and ultimatums from her mind.

  It still doesn’t strike her when he hissed, ‘Stay out of my life, I’m not answerable to you, how dare you call me a liar. Who do you think you’re talking to Christine?’ that he meant what he said. These phrases became his mantra. In more lucid moments she suspects Richard had attacked her sanity, hoping she would fall apart, giving him the convenient excuse to end the relationship.

  Of late he frequently said, ‘Christine, get a life instead of living through mine.’ She could still feel the sting of his cruel words, yet she accepted that he was right.

  Julian tried to counter the negative messages that Richard had programmed her to believe. He tried to impress on his sister that she was the victim of an abusive relationship.

  After sleeping off the day’s exhaustion she collects her emails. She reads Diana and Lawrence’s email messages inquiring about her welfare. It puzzles her for reasons she cannot explain that since Richard left her life her family has re-entered it. She dares not believe that this is a blessing that will last and that they are genuinely interested in her welfare.

  Chapter Eleven

  Christine continues to work extra shifts, almost forgetting about the legal action she instigated until she receives further correspondence. Thornton informs her that Richard’s legal representative has responded to their demands. His email requests that she make an appointment to discuss their next move. She braces herself for strife and more complications, expecting that at some stage she will have to face Richard. In
an ideal world she wouldn’t have to deal with the end of their relationship.

  Thornton is heavily booked and she has to swap shifts with colleagues to attend a meeting and discuss matters she dreads. The lawyer is cheerful and gives her the impression he can conquer the world. He cracks the odd joke intended to lighten her mood. As this has no effect he says, ‘Christine you are a picture of misery. If you can bring yourself to smile, fortune might shine down on you.’

  She returns a blank look as if she has only half-absorbed what he just said.

  ‘It surprises me that you haven’t contacted me earlier.’

  ‘Work has kept me busy. I’m sorry.’

  ‘No need to apologise. Don’t you want to know how the litigation process is going?’

  Not really. ‘Not really.’

  ‘Aren’t you interested to know about my charges and the payment plans we offer?’

  Again she returns a blank look, registering disinterest.

  ‘You haven’t pressed me for a current balance or estimation of a final figure. This is unlike most of my clients – their prime concern is about my charges.’

  ‘I didn’t know I was required to.’

  ‘As I said, you’re unlike most of my clients.’

  Thornton explains he has gained an insight into Richard’s wealth held independent of Christine’s knowledge. He dismisses the figures Richard’s solicitor provided, believing them to be too low. ‘Your estranged husband’s lawyer has cooperated in providing bank account balances. I suspect substantial funds have been withdrawn from these. We may struggle to determine where the money has gone. Christine, I am asking for your permission to investigate this matter further. I can apply to the court to trace withdrawals over the past two years. Do you permit me to pursue this course of action, I certainly recommend it.’

  He waits for her response and further questions. ‘I’m under your instructions.’

  Richard had forbidden Christine to inquire further into their finances to the extent that she is unaware of his income. A few years ago he insisted that they operate separate bank accounts. He covered all household costs and underwrote their lifestyle. She was only required her to cover weekly household and personal expenses. He essentially fastened a lock over the cheque book. She didn’t object to this as she wanted to avoid another outburst and to protect herself from personal attack.