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Authors: Dawn Barker

BOOK: Fractured
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All she wanted was to have her family back, Tony and Jack.

That was impossible.

She knew, deep down, what she’d been doing at the top of that cliff. The only option was to succeed this time. Everyone would
be better off: Tony wouldn’t have to be tortured by his sense of obligation to stick by her; Ursula would be relieved; no
one would have to worry about the safety of their children around her. Her mum; well, she would be sad. She’d be devastated.
She pushed those thoughts away, and began to make a mental list of her options. As she did so, she felt better than she had
for weeks.

Every day, Anna took the little plastic cup from the nurses at medication time and poured her tablets into her mouth. She
used her tongue to push them down into the space between her gum
and her cheek, then funnelled a mouthful of water straight down her throat. As soon as the nurse left, Anna spat the tablets
into a pouch made from a piece of paper, then slipped it into the corner of her pillowcase.

She would know when she had enough.

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Four weeks after

Saturday, 17 October 2009

Tony stepped out of a taxi then nodded to the doorman shuffling around outside the pub. Sean had insisted that he come out
for a few drinks, said it would do him good to get out of the house. He hadn’t had the energy to say no, but now he wished
he had.

The bouncer pulled open the heavy door and the thump of the music spilled out into the dark Paddington street. He took a deep
breath, ducked his head, then stepped into the thick air inside the pub. The door closed behind him. He stood at the edge
of the room trying to see Sean’s red hair among the hundreds of bodies bunched together. He stumbled as a girl pushed past
him, too busy shrieking at someone to notice that she had spilled her neon pink drink on his jeans. He glared at her, then
his eyes filled with tears; he blinked them away. Anna would know how to get the stain out. But he couldn’t ask her things
like that any more.

He headed towards the bar. He’d stay for an hour, then go home. His house was empty and sad, but that suited him at the moment.

‘Tony, mate! Over here!’

He craned his neck and saw Sean’s hand waving above the canopy of bodies. Tony turned back to the bar, ordered two beers,
then pushed his way towards his friend, holding the schooners high as if he was wading through a river.

Standing with a group of four other guys, Sean grabbed one of the beers and took a big gulp. ‘You made it – brilliant! These
are
the guys from work I was telling you about: Dave, Phil, Macca, Paolo …’

Tony could see the euphoria in Sean’s flushed cheeks and wide eyes, and envied him: Tony didn’t think he’d ever laugh again.
He sighed; he had to stop thinking like this. He forced himself to smile then shook Sean’s workmates’ hands. They said hello,
then returned to their conversation. Did they know? Of course they knew: Sean was bound to have told them. Tony could always
tell when people knew; they did anything they could to avoid mentioning babies, or wives, or death. Which meant there was
very little to talk about, and instead they didn’t say anything at all.

He realised that Sean was shouting something to him above the noise, and he bent down so that his ear was close to Sean’s
mouth.

‘We’re going to the Cross later, you should come. Macca can get our names on the door, there’s a new club open …’

He nodded and sculled his beer. His fingers tingled and his limbs relaxed as the alcohol coursed through him. He pointed to
the bar and his empty glass, and headed off for another round.

* * *

A few hours later, the group staggered out of the pub onto Oxford Street and started to walk towards Kings Cross, each holding
their left arm out to try to flag a taxi. The cold air jolted Tony back to reality. ‘Sean, mate, I think I should go home
…’ He was surprised at how slurred his voice was.

Sean stopped in surprise, then reached up and put his arm around Tony. ‘What? Nah, mate, you haven’t been out with me for
ages. Come on, it’ll do you good to have a night out.’

Tony was still walking the wrong way. Home was the other direction; he was getting further and further away. He knew he could
turn around, but what else did he have to do? There was no one waiting for him except the dog. He looked behind him and pictured
it: the street would be quiet, dark, full of houses with people sleeping after watching a movie at home. He looked forward
again, towards Darlinghurst. He felt himself being pulled towards
the sound of cars revving, swaying people screaming and laughing, and he wanted to be amongst it, just for a few hours, to
feel part of life again. He knew he would regret it later, but he patted Sean on the back. ‘All right, maybe just one.’

Sean hugged Tony, and they stumbled forward, just as a taxi pulled up and emptied its load of passengers at their feet. They
hopped in, and Sean shouted to his mates further down the street, ‘Meet you there!’

The club, when they got there, was even darker, even louder, even busier than the pub had been. Tony followed Sean to the
bathrooms. Inside, Sean knocked on a cubicle door, and Macca opened it and let them in. Someone was bending over the cistern,
snorting a line of coke through a rolled up twenty-dollar note.

Tony started giggling. ‘It’s like a fucking tardis.’

They all laughed.

‘Shh.’ Sean waved his hand at them as he leaned down and moved his head in circles around the toilet lid to snort up any stray
coke. He sniffed loudly, licked the end of the rolled-up note, and handed it to Tony.

Tony hadn’t done this for years; Anna was never into it. But it felt so familiar. This was who he used to be, before he met
Anna. He used to have fun, he had nothing to worry about, just did what he wanted. Right now, this was what he wanted to do.
He put the rolled-up note into his left nostril, held the right nostril closed with his finger, crouched down and inhaled.

* * *

Tony felt alive. He was on the dance floor, moving with the crowd. Sean was next to him, his fist pumping into the air along
with the dance music. Opposite Tony, a girl with shiny lips swayed in slow motion. He moved towards her. Her short dress swung
over her thighs, and with each flick of her hips it seemed to lift just a little bit higher. She wore a long string of beads
that fell between her breasts. Tossing her hair back she looked up at Tony through dark eyelashes. She turned around so that
her back was to him and
raised her hands, throwing her head back again and writhing her hips towards him. He put his hands on the girl’s waist and
felt the thin strap of her underwear beneath her dress. She stepped back, fitting perfectly into his groin, then spun around
to face him. He still held her waist, and moved his hands a little lower as she put her hands on his chest and gripped his
shirt. She stared up at him, biting her lip.

The room began to spin. Letting go of the girl, Tony staggered back to the table and slumped into a seat. The girl was on
the edge of the dance floor near him, dancing, staring at him. He rubbed his face then glanced back at her. Shit, she looked
like she was still at school. Tony could see the sweat stains on her dress under her arms, and the black smudges of mascara
around her eyes. What was he doing? He was married; he had fathered a child. He shook his head and looked away. He needed
some water, some food, and he needed to get out of here. He looked for Sean and saw him leaning against a pillar, talking
to some other young girl.

Tony walked over. ‘I’m off.’

‘Really?’ Sean stood up straighter and brushed the girl away. ‘All right, mate, I’ll come too.’

‘You don’t have to.’

‘I’ve had enough. Come on, let’s get out of here. Let’s go get a burger.’

Tony nodded and walked towards the door.

More than anything, he wished he was going home to Anna.

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
One week before

Monday, 7 September 2009

Tony woke up to the sound of Jack crying. He looked at the digital clock next to the bed: almost six. He turned over in bed;
the other side was empty. Jack was wailing. Where was Anna? He rubbed his eyes, got out of bed, went through to the baby’s
room and picked him up, then stumbled along the hall. He could hear music coming from the living room.

When he walked in the smell of vinegar was overpowering. Anna was in her pyjamas, kneeling on the floor and rubbing at the
glass doors with a tea towel. There was a pile of used rags in the corner, next to a bucket of soapy water. The rug from under
the coffee table was rolled up, and the kitchen stools were stacked upside down on the bench. Anna turned towards him; strands
of her hair had escaped her ponytail and were stuck to her face with sweat. Tony’s pulse quickened.

‘Anna, what are you doing?’

She grinned. ‘Morning! Oh, Jack’s up, I didn’t hear him. Just hold him for a bit longer, will you? Now that you’re both up
I can vacuum.’ She stood up, wiped her forehead with the back of her hand, then started to walk towards the hallway cupboard.

Tony put out his arm as she passed him. ‘Don’t be silly. When did you get up?’

‘I don’t know, a while ago. It won’t take long.’

Jack squirmed and fussed, mouthing at Tony’s bare shoulder. ‘He’s hungry, babe. Just sit down, I’ll make you some tea. You
don’t need to be doing the cleaning —’

‘Hungry, hungry, he’s always hungry … Come here, you hungry hippo.’ She held her arms out to Jack, and Tony passed him to
her. Anna lifted her pyjama top and latched Jack onto her breast, then sat on the edge of the sofa, gesticulating with her
free hand. ‘I just feel so much better today, normal again – well, better than normal, really. I don’t feel tired, I have
energy. I woke up starving! There’s nothing in the cupboards, so I’m going to go shopping today to restock the fridge. What
have we been eating? This has gone on long enough, I need to be more organised. Go and get ready for work, I’ll make you breakfast
– what do you want, eggs? I’ll make you eggs and toast.’

Tony scanned her face, confused. This was a complete turnaround. How could she have changed so much overnight? ‘Anna, slow
down. You’re talking too fast. I’m glad that you feel better, but you’ll wear yourself out. You need to go back to bed.’

‘No, I’m fine! When I’ve fed him, I’m going to go for a big walk to the park, show Jack the ducks. I need to get fit again,
I haven’t been looking after myself. Then we’ll go to the shops – I want to get back into cooking.’

‘Anna, stop for a second.’ His mouth was dry; something wasn’t right. ‘Are you OK?’

‘Yes!’ Anna frowned. ‘You ask if I’m OK when I feel sad, now I feel great and you’re still going on at me!’

Her voice rose and Tony thought she was about to cry. She was right: he should be thankful, it was good to see her bright
and active again. He stepped forward, ready to hug her, but she smiled again and waved him away with her free hand.

‘I’m fine! Go and have your shower. I’ve ironed your shirt, it’s hanging in the laundry – that’s one less thing for you to
do!’

He hesitated, not sure how to react. She was saying all the right things, but why had her mood changed so suddenly? Maybe
the tablets were working after all. He looked at her again: she was talking to Jack as she fed him. He turned around, glanced
back at her one more time, then went into the bedroom to get ready for work.

* * *

Anna pushed the pram out of the front gate and smiled. It was a beautiful day. The warm breeze tickled her face and the sun
had tinted everything lemon. She took a big breath in; even the air smelled fresh, like citrus. She straightened her back
and stood tall, pushing the pram with her arms straight out in front of her. This was life, not her pathetic tears about not
getting enough sleep. This was the world at work: smartly dressed women waiting for the bus to their glamorous jobs in the
city; beautiful children chattering on their way to school; cars waiting impatiently at the traffic lights.

Anna walked faster. There were so many other mothers out pushing strollers, she’d never realised before. They were all so
thin, so well dressed. She looked down at her clothes. She should have worn shorts, rather than these faded jeans. And she
needed some fancy new trainers, not these old thongs that were already rubbing the tops of her feet. She touched her hair,
still wet from the shower, and wished she’d worn her contacts instead of squinting through her thick glasses, the lenses dotted
with dried tears. How had she got to this state?

‘Morning!’

Anna jumped. A woman in tight black lycra pants and a clingy turquoise singlet smiled at her. Her baby, maybe a month or two
older than Jack, was fast asleep in the stroller. Anna looked up again, ready to chat, but already they were too far past
each other. She bit her lip. She should have said hello, stopped to ask about the baby, and asked the woman if she wanted
to go for a coffee. If she had been brave enough, she could have asked her how she coped, how she slept, how she managed to
look so good and not lose herself in the monotony of caring for a newborn. But by the time she had thought of all this, it
was too late.

Jack was still asleep. Anna picked up her pace again, determined to leave her negativity behind. With each step, her breath
became more laboured but her mood lifted futher. She went into a cafe on the beachfront and bought a takeaway coffee, then
went to the park.
Once she’d put the brakes on the stroller and draped a muslin cloth over the hood to keep the sun off Jack, she sat down on
a bench and sipped her coffee through the little hole in the plastic lid. It tasted amazing. She removed the lid and licked
off the chocolate powder stuck to the inside. Next to the bench, gulls pecked at the rubbish bin and the discarded fish and
chip containers strewn around it. She looked over towards the green oval. Two toddlers screeched and chased a ball while their
mothers sat talking on the grass beside them. A man wearing industrial headphones drove a lawnmower up and down the pitch.

Jack stirred. Anna lifted the muslin cloth, peered into his pram and smiled at him. He smiled back.

It was his first smile.

She unstrapped him and cradled him in her left arm, squeezing his warm little body tight. His eyes were open and he gazed
up at her. She didn’t want to put him down; she wanted to snuggle into him and cuddle him and protect him. This was the feeling
she’d expected from the start, the one she’d waited for. She almost cried with the joy of it; everything was going to be OK.
She had known that she didn’t really need medication, and she had been right.

It was time to go; she had things to do. She put Jack back in the stroller, tucking the muslin wrap around his legs. ‘We’re
going to go to the shops and buy Daddy something nice for dinner. What will we cook?’ She sprung up, pushing the pram ahead
of her as though she was in a race, then sprinted across the road. She would cook some Thai curry.

In the supermarket, she picked up a jar of curry paste, read the ingredients, then put it back again. These sauces were full
of nasty additives; it would be much nicer to make it from scratch. Tony deserved it; she’d been so horrible to him lately.
She rushed up and down the aisles looking for the ingredients: ginger, garlic, chilli, vegetables, chicken. Damn it, she needed
galangal. The recipe definitely had galangal in it. She searched among the pile of ginger, in case some was hiding in there.
None. She raced round to the spices aisle looking for some in a jar but there wasn’t any. She’d
have to walk home, get the car, and drive to Chinatown, or out to Cabramatta; they’d definitely have some there. Come to think
of it, the vegetables were much nicer there. She’d just buy the chicken from here. And some rice, just in case.

Anna bounded up to the express aisle and hummed as she waited, leaning on one leg, then the other. She paid, then rushed out
of the shop, no longer feeling her thongs rubbing. It was hotter now. She turned her face up to the sun and closed her eyes,
then giggled as she tripped over an uneven kerb. Jack’s arms shot forward as if to stop himself falling into a hole.

‘Oops, sorry, little one!’

His arms relaxed by his side and he fell asleep again with his feet stretched out in the warm sun. Anna looked at his tiny
toes. She needed to buy some baby sunscreen, especially now that she was going to do lots of walking. And a water bottle to
keep in the pram, one of those metallic ones to keep the water cool. And some new running shoes, a nice pair. She would do
that after she found the galangal.

* * *

Tony opened the front door slowly, unsure of what to expect. He had been worried about Anna all day; he was glad that she
felt better, but something about it made him uneasy. He could hear the television blaring from the lounge room as he closed
the door behind him and put his laptop bag on the floor.

‘Anna?’

She rushed down the hall to the door and flung her arms around him.

‘Wow! This is a nice welcome home.’ Tony hugged her then held her arms with his hands and took a step back. She wore an apron,
smudged with food. She was smiling. ‘Are you wearing lipstick?’

‘Yes. I’ve had enough of being fat and frumpy.’ Anna extricated herself from his grip and walked towards the kitchen, beckoning
him to follow.

‘Babe, you’re not —’

‘We’ve had a great day. I’ve realised that I’ve just got to keep going. I’m not the only one who’s not getting any sleep.
I have a new plan: every day I’m going to go walking in the morning after Jack’s feed, and I’ve joined the gym – I’ll just
put him in the creche. And we’re going to the movies tomorrow; they have a special session where you can take your baby –
how good is that? Now, come in and sit down, I’ve made you a green curry, fresh!’

Tony looked at her and smiled. He shouldn’t have been worried. It was just that he’d become so used to seeing her miserable
that he’d forgotten how lively and vivacious she really was.

She pulled a cold bottle of riesling out of the fridge. ‘One won’t hurt.’ She took two glasses from the cupboard and poured
generously, then licked the foot of the glass where she had spilled some. ‘Yum.’

Tony took his glass and tasted the wine. It trickled down his throat, cold and sweet. He let out a deep breath. Thank God.
Anna seemed her old self again. He had missed her.

He walked over to the bassinette, next to the couch. Jack was inside, fast asleep. ‘What a handsome little fella,’ Tony whispered.

Anna came over and leaned her head against him, and he put his arm around her. This was what he had imagined it would be like;
the three of them, happy and content. At that moment, he knew that everything was going to be fine.

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