Fractured (20 page)

‘Tony? Tony? Are you all right?’

He opened his eyes and blinked hard, seeing Wendy’s and Dr Morgan’s faces come into focus. ‘Yeah, I’m OK.’

‘Do you want to sit down in my office for a while?’ Dr Morgan asked. ‘I’ll get you some water —’

‘No. I’m fine, I just need to get out of here.’

‘Let’s go then,’ Wendy said, and he felt her hand on his arm, propelling him towards the door.

‘Just give me a second …’ He took a few deep breaths as if he needed to catch his breath, but really he wanted to wait a moment
before he went out into the car park to make sure that Anna had definitely gone.

Monday, 28 September 2009

Tony gasped when the cold waves slapped his legs, but he kept moving. He needed to take his mind off what was happening to
Anna at the police station. What were they asking her? What was she saying? He had taken Wendy home, promising to call her
as soon as he heard anything. But waiting was torture.

He ignored the chill of the water and ran through the breakers, then leapt onto his board and paddled furiously. The sea was
a sharky grey, and the surface simmered with froth. Tony had been big on surfing when he was a kid, and used to love his dad
taking him down to nippers on a Saturday morning. He’d always thought he’d do the same for Jack.

He watched as a big set came in, then turned around and paddled to catch it. The force of the first wave propelled him forward;
he was weightless, powerless. He grinned as the wave closed out around him, even as he was thrown from his board. The pounding
of the ocean drowned out his whoops and screams, and he was still yelling when his head went under.

He closed his mouth and the noise around him faded away into the gurgling wash. He stopped kicking and let his burning muscles
relax. The currents shifted his floating limbs in a freefall dance and he imagined himself going deeper and deeper. He opened
his eyes and watched the silver-white bubbles rise up to the turquoise light. Below him was dark weed. The salt water stung
his eyes and his chest was red-hot, needing air. The ocean forced itself to the back
of his nose and throat and pushed into his sinuses. He kicked for the surface.

Gasping, then coughing as he inhaled the spray, his chest heaved and his arms and legs trembled, but it felt good. He pulled
his board towards him and clambered on, panting. He surrendered and caught a broken wave into shore.

He lay down on his back on the beach. He was exhausted from his exertion, but just for a minute, he had been able to forget.

The sun was lower in the sky now. He looked at his watch – almost four o’clock. Anna had been gone all day. He didn’t want
to think about whether that was good or bad. He wrapped his beach towel around his shoulders.

His phone rang.

‘Hello?’

‘Tony, it’s Scotty.’

He held his breath.

‘Sorry it’s taken so long —’

‘What’s happening?’

‘Mate, it’s been a long day. Are you sitting down?’

‘Just tell me!’ His heart was thumping.

‘They’ve decided they have enough to charge her.’

‘Charge her? Oh, shit …’

‘They’ve charged her with something called infanticide.’

‘Infanticide?’

‘Look, Tony, it’s probably the best outcome. It’s a charge used for women who’ve been mentally ill after having a baby, and
who’ve done this sort of thing. It means they’re not contesting the fact that Anna’s been ill, they’re agreeing she had diminished
responsibility.’

He closed his eyes. He couldn’t think, couldn’t take this in.

Scott continued, ‘It’s what I expected really. And the good news is that they’ve agreed to grant her conditional bail.’

Bail? The word made Tony think of police cells and courts and prison. That was what Scott was talking about now; Tony’s body
reeled as the implications hit him.

He couldn’t keep the panic out of his voice. ‘Where is she?’

‘She’s still here at the station – the police are doing the paperwork. She’ll go back to the hospital soon and stay there
on bail as long as she keeps getting treatment.’

‘How is she?’

‘She’s as good as she can be, under the circumstances.’

Tony thanked him and hung up. He gripped the phone and let Scott’s words reverberate around his head. Infanticide. Anna –
his wife – had been charged with killing his son. He began to shiver all over, and his teeth chattered. It had been different
when it was something that everyone speculated about. Now it was real. Anna would have to go to court, maybe even prison.

The worst thing was that he wasn’t sure whether he should be relieved or devastated.

* * *

Anna stared out the window of the police car as they drove back to the hospital. The roads were busy as people hurried home
to make dinner, or to help with their kids’ homework, or to watch television. These ordinary people stared at her through
their tinted windows, no doubt wondering what she’d done, then they went back to their own lives. She’d have done the same
– before.

She’d told the police again and again that she didn’t know what had happened, but they kept trying to make her say something
wrong. They had confused her, and now she wasn’t sure what she’d actually told them.

They’d left her alone in that terrible room for ages. Then they’d come back in, but they didn’t look her in the eye. Detective
Hill had put his hand on her shoulder, cleared his throat, and told her that she was under arrest. They marched her through
to another room, and he said that he was charging her. He hesitated, just before he said Jack’s name, as if he couldn’t quite
remember it. She stared at them, then at Scott. She might have gasped, maybe even laughed. That would have really made them
think she was mad.

Now they were driving her back to the hospital. The concrete building loomed ahead, but it looked different from how it had
this morning.

Everything was different now.

The police led Anna back into the building. Through the small glass window of the security door, she saw her mum and Tony
standing outside the nurses’ station. She raised her hand in a small wave, but neither of them waved back. She was flanked
by the detectives and had no choice but to keep walking through the door. She looked straight across the room into Tony’s
eyes, and heard the slam of the door closing behind her. She jumped and her legs started to buckle under her. Nausea crept
up into the back of her throat and saliva seeped into her mouth; she was going to throw up. They turned right into the passageway
towards her tiny room. Tony was still there behind her. She stumbled, looking back at him.

‘Tony.’ She was at the entrance to her room now, but she couldn’t take her eyes off him. She held out her hands, but he stood
there, watching her, motionless. He was crying; Tony never cried. It was almost more than she could bear. ‘Tony, I didn’t
do anything, please …’

He shook his head and turned away from her.

‘Do you believe me? Tony?’ she shouted. ‘I would never …’

He was walking now, but in the wrong direction, away from her. For a moment, Wendy looked as if she was going to follow him,
but instead she hurried towards her. Anna didn’t want her mum. All she had ever wanted was gone.

She put her hands over her face and screamed.

Wednesday, 2 September 2009

Anna stood in the doorway to the bedroom and watched Tony playing with Jack on the bed. He was tickling him, trying to get
him to smile.

‘He’s too young,’ she said.

He didn’t stop. He talked in a stupid high-pitched voice. ‘My little boy is so clever, he’ll smile for Daddy!’

She clenched her jaw. He was going to get Jack all excited, then go off to work and leave her to deal with him when he was
agitated and overtired. Then Jack would cry and cry; that’s when Anna got frightened.

She started to walk towards them, then stopped. She didn’t have the energy. Taking a step back, she left them to it.

She went to the kitchen, poured a glass of water and sipped it while she sat on the couch. She wished she could cancel the
doctor’s appointment this morning. But Tony knew it was today, and she had promised him she’d go.

After he went to work, she held Jack to her breast without saying a word, avoiding his accusing eyes. Her breasts felt empty.
She wasn’t even sure he was getting any milk.

When he had finished feeding, she put him on a play mat on the living room floor, walked into the bathroom and closed the
door. She showered and washed her hair for the first time in days. Back in her bedroom, she held up her black yoga pants,
then dropped them on the floor and pulled out a clean pair of maternity jeans
instead. They were loose around her hips and she had a moment of satisfaction as she thought about the weight she must have
lost, but then that warm feeling was sucked away again. She went back to the bathroom, took her make-up bag out of the vanity
drawer then wiped the condensation off the mirror. When she’d put on some foundation and mascara she looked like her old self,
almost. But she knew it was only a veneer.

* * *

They arrived at the doctors’ practice ten minutes early. As soon as Anna sat down in the waiting room, Jack started to cry.
Just give me a break
, she wanted to shout.
Just shut up for five minutes. I can’t do this
. But, of course, she didn’t shout. She stood up and pushed the pram back and forward, back and forward. The lady sitting
across from her was trying to catch her eye; Anna felt obliged to meet it.

‘Aww, he’s so little! How old is he?’ The woman leaned over to see into the pram.

‘He’s four weeks,’ she said with a slight smile, then turned away.

‘He’s so beautiful.’ Now the woman’s head was right inside the pram. ‘Hello, gorgeous boy. What’s the matter with you? Are
you hungry?’

‘No he’s not,’ she said. ‘He’s just crying. That’s what babies do.’

The stranger raised her eyebrows and went back to her magazine.

‘Sorry,’ Anna mumbled. Her face burned. She didn’t want to cry, not here, in front of everyone. She sat down and took a deep
breath, but she couldn’t get enough air. Her lips and fingers tingled. That woman was staring at her, but her face was blurred
around the edges and white flashes exploded in front of Anna’s eyes. Was the woman laughing at her? She gripped the arms of
her chair with her numb fingers and hoped she was smiling. Her ears rang, but she could still hear Jack crying.

Somehow, she managed not to collapse, not to break down in tears, not to pass out. The room started to come back into focus.
The woman across from her wasn’t staring; she was reading her magazine. Anna stood up again, and picked up Jack. He stopped
crying. She forced herself to smile in case anyone was watching her. Everything was OK; she was still in control.

‘Anna?’ Dr Fraser popped her head out of her room as an old lady shuffled out, holding a prescription.

‘Yes!’ Anna said. She cleared her throat, smiled at the doctor, then put Jack back into the pram. She bent down to pick up
her bag then manoeuvred the pram with her free hand. It clattered into the coffee table. Her face began to burn again and
she felt the flush of red across her cheeks; she couldn’t work out how to get around the table. Everyone was looking at her.
‘Oops,’ she said, and giggled, knowing she must look ridiculous.

‘No rush,’ Dr Fraser said as she handed something to the receptionist, still watching Anna. The lady who had talked to her
earlier moved a chair out of the way; she mumbled her thanks, then followed Dr Fraser into the consulting room.

Anna had been in this room many times over the years. On her right there was a cluttered desk with piles of papers and notes
leaning against the wall, and on her left was an examination couch. Dr Fraser closed the door behind her, indicating that
Anna should sit down, then sat in the black leather swivel chair nearest to the desk. She looked at her GP. Dr Fraser was
in her fifties, she guessed, with short hair that could be either grey or bleached blonde. Today, Anna couldn’t stop looking
at the string of brightly coloured glass beads around the doctor’s neck. She had seen a necklace like that when she and Tony
went to Murano, an island just off Venice. They had watched a man hand-blowing glass, then looked at some similar beads; Anna
had liked them but thought they were too expensive. Tony had proposed on that trip. Her eyes started to water; she had really
wanted those beads. She should have bought them; she might never get another chance.

Anna arranged the pram behind her in the cramped room and sat on the edge of the chair at the corner of the desk. Her knees
almost touched Dr Fraser’s.

‘How are you, Anna?’ Dr Fraser asked.

‘I’m fine, thanks. How are you?’ Anna blushed as she spoke. The doctor wasn’t just being polite; she was trying to get Anna
to talk about why she was here.

‘I’m very well, thanks, and I’ve been looking forward to meeting this little one! I heard from the hospital that he’d been
born. What’s his name?’

‘Jack.’ Anna took a deep breath. That was her opening; she needed to get this over with. ‘That’s kind of why I’m here. Well,
Jack’s OK, I think …’ She paused, flustered. She had practised over and over what she would say, but now she couldn’t remember
any of it. Dr Fraser sat back and waited. ‘I’m not sleeping very well. Tony – my husband – wanted me to come to see you. I’m
not sure there’s anything you can do. I mean, it’s all part of being a mum, I suppose. I just thought I should check it out
with you …’

Dr Fraser frowned, put down her pen, then sat back in her chair. ‘Tell me a bit more, Anna.’

‘I’m just so tired …’ Anna’s voice died away. Then the tears started. She pulled some tissues out of a box on the desk, then
began to talk. She faltered and trembled through her story – Jack’s crying, how much it hurt when he fed. ‘It’s just not how
I thought it would be!’

‘How’s your sleep, Anna?’

‘I don’t think anyone with a baby sleeps well,’ Anna said, smiling through her tears, but Dr Fraser didn’t smile back. ‘Not
good. I can’t even sleep when he does.’

‘And your appetite?’

She shook her head. ‘Not good either. I’m trying … I know my milk is going to dry up, I need to eat more, but I just can’t.
It makes me feel sick.’ The tears started again.

‘Anna, having a newborn is hard work, you’ve got to give yourself a break. We’ll have a look at Jack, all right?’

‘OK.’

Dr Fraser undressed Jack, looked him over, then put him on the scales. She looked back at the notes. Anna stared at him: his
tummy looked so swollen, his limbs so scrawny, his skin so loose. Poor little baby, he deserved better than her.

‘He’s doing fine, Anna. He’s put on about four hundred grams since he left hospital. That’s not bad, but I’d like to see him
putting on a bit more. It might be useful to top him up after his feeds with some formula.’

She knew it. Because of her failings, Jack was starving. ‘I really wanted to breastfed him!’

‘You are breastfeeding him, and you still can. You’re doing everything right – you’re doing your best.’

‘But my best isn’t good enough, is it? I can’t even feed my own child properly.’

‘Anna, listen to me. You’re doing a brilliant job. All I’m suggesting is that after each breastfeed you offer him some formula.
If he’s still hungry he’ll drink it, but if he’s not, he won’t. It’s not forever, just until we can get your appetite sorted
out. It might help him to sleep a bit longer as well. You must be exhausted.’

Dr Fraser dressed Jack again and put him back in the pram. She sat in her chair, her hands clasped in front of her as if in
prayer. ‘How do you think your mood is?’

Anna shrugged.

‘Does anything make you happy at the moment? Is there anything you enjoy?’

She shook her head, tears running down her face. It was such a relief to hear someone articulate the way she’d been feeling.

‘Anna, I’m worried about you. I’m worried that you’ve become quite depressed. Can I ask … Do you feel that you’re bonding
with Jack?’

Finally, someone had asked. Everyone had assumed –
she
had assumed – that it would be easy, that she’d love her baby straightaway, but sometimes … She couldn’t finish the thought.
‘I don’t … don’t feel anything for him. Oh, I do, I mean, sometimes. But he doesn’t seem … like I thought. I thought I’d feel
more.’

‘I need to ask you something that I ask everyone who feels down or depressed. Have you ever had any thoughts of hurting yourself,
of trying to end your life?’

‘No, no, I haven’t.’ She dabbed at her eyes with a tissue, which had disintegrated into damp flakes.

‘And what about Jack? Have you ever had any thoughts of hurting him?’

Anna gasped. ‘No! I’d never do that!’

‘Sorry, it’s just something I needed to ask. Look, there are a few things we need to do. First, I’m going to prescribe some
tablets for you – antidepressants. I want you to start taking them today. It’ll take a couple of weeks before they start to
work, so keep taking one every day, even if you don’t feel like they’re helping. I know you’re breastfeeding, but these are
safe. Some will get into the breast milk but the risks of that are far less than if you don’t take them.’

Anna nodded. She felt safer knowing that someone was telling her what she needed to do. It was so hard these days to make
any decisions; she almost wept with relief that someone else was taking charge.

‘I’m also going to refer you to a psychologist. I think you need someone to talk to, to help you deal with some of the feelings
that you are having. OK?’

‘Yes.’

‘And you need some help at home. Is there anyone who can help you?’

‘Tony’s mum’s offered. And my mum, she’s in Western Australia but she could come …’

‘Good. I’d like to speak to Tony too, just to let him know what we’re doing. Have you got his —’

Anna sat up straighter. Tony didn’t need to be involved. ‘He’s at work, in meetings all day.’

‘I can leave a message on his mobile.’

‘No, don’t disturb him. It’s fine, I’ll talk to him.’

Dr Fraser hesitated, then nodded. ‘All right. Make sure he knows to call me if he has any questions or is worried about anything.
That goes for you too. Otherwise, make an appointment for early next week so we can see how the tablets are going.’

While Dr Fraser made some notes, Anna splashed her face with cold water from the small sink in the corner of the room. She
pulled two paper towels from the dispenser on the wall and patted her face.

‘Thank you,’ she said quietly. She took the prescription and some printed information about the medication, dragged the pram
backwards out of the room, and paid her bill. She told the receptionist that she’d call later to make the follow-up appointment.

Anna went straight to the chemist before she could think about it too much, and handed in her prescription. While she waited,
she picked up a tin of formula and some bottles. She wanted to hide them, to tell the sales assistant that she wasn’t really
bottle-feeding, it was just temporary, doctor’s orders. But the sales assistant didn’t seem to care. She paid with her credit
card then shoved the carrier bag in the basket of the pram and walked out.

When she got back to her car, she strapped Jack into his capsule, put the pram in the boot then swallowed one of her tablets
without water, straightaway. If she waited until she got home she knew that she might talk herself out of it. The pill stuck
in her throat and she gagged. It tasted foul.

* * *

That evening, Tony made sure he left work on time. When he walked in, he smelled spices wafting from the kitchen. Anna was
standing at the stove, stirring something in a pot. Music was playing from the television. Jack was asleep in his bouncy chair
on top of the kitchen counter. Tony felt himself breathe out; Anna looked more like her old self. She loved cooking; she must
have had a better day.

He smiled. ‘I thought I said no housework?’ He walked over to her and kissed her head. ‘How did it go at the doctor’s? You
look happier.’

She shrugged. ‘It was OK.’

‘What did she say?’

‘She said I was normal.’ Anna didn’t look him in the eye. ‘She said I’m tired, just adjusting, you know.’

‘That’s great, babe.’ It was fantastic news; it was all he had wanted, someone else – a professional – to check Anna out and
make sure this really was just fatigue or baby blues or something. She’d be better in no time.

Anna added salt to the pan. ‘She gave me some tablets.’

She had spoken so quietly, so casually, that Tony barely heard her. His stomach flipped. If she was OK, why did she need medication?
‘What for?’

‘Oh, just to help me sleep a bit. They’re over there, in my bag.’

He took the box out of Anna’s bag and looked at it. He opened the box and unfolded the thin paper information sheet. ‘Anna,
it says these are for depression and anxiety.’

She kept stirring. ‘Yeah, they are, but she’s not using them for depression. They help you sleep too, and while I’m breastfeeding
they’re safer than sleeping tablets.’

‘Oh.’ There was something in Anna’s voice that unnerved Tony, but he told himself he had no reason not to trust her. Anyway,
as long as she was taking the tablets, what difference did it make what they were meant for? He wondered if maybe Dr Fraser
had told Anna they were to help her sleep to make sure she took them. ‘Did she say anything about Jack?’