Fractured (3 page)

‘Anthony!’ Ursula said from the doorway.

He looked up, shaking. ‘They’re useless! So many fucking questions! They need to get out there and help me look for them —’

‘Anthony, what’s going on? What tablets? Why didn’t you tell me any of this?’

He fell back onto the bed and looked up at the ceiling, blinking hard. He had tried to rationalise it, tried to find a logical
answer, but he couldn’t pretend any more. He turned his head to the side and looked at Ursula.

‘Something’s really wrong, Mum. I know it.’

* * *

Ursula busied herself in the kitchen making cheese on toast even though Tony said he wasn’t hungry. She didn’t know what else
to do or say: her reassurances sounded fake, even to herself. Dread had begun to creep through her, but she couldn’t let him
see her apprehension. She longed to call Jim again, but she didn’t want Tony to know she was worried. And it wasn’t fair of
her to want support from her husband, when Tony was going through this alone. She had called Lisa again, and Anna’s mum, Wendy,
but neither of them had heard from Anna. She glanced over at the couch, where Tony now sat in front of the television. The
one o’clock news was on, but he wasn’t watching it: he held his head in his hands and stared at the floor.

Tony’s phone rang and Ursula jumped. He grabbed it from the arm of the couch before it could ring a second time. Ursula held
her breath and put her hand to her throat, placing it over the gold
crucifix hanging around her neck. Her other hand paused in midair, holding the knife with which she’d been slicing the cheese.
Tony hesitated before he spoke and, for a moment, Ursula saw her little boy standing at the top of the skateboarding ramp
in front of all his friends, just before he took a deep breath and stepped off the edge.

‘Hello?’

Ursula could hear the low tones of a male voice at the other end of the phone. The dread crept in a bit further.

‘Yes, this is Anthony Patton.’ Tony’s forehead knotted. His eyes closed for a moment; his nostrils flared. ‘I’m leaving now.
I’ll be there as soon as I can.’

He disconnected the call and grabbed his keys. His eyes were wild. Ursula put the knife down and stepped towards him. ‘Anthony,
what’s happening? Who was it?’

He was already running down the hallway. ‘They found her, they’re taking her to hospital. I’ve got to go.’

Ursula turned off the grill, grabbed her bag and rushed after him. ‘The hospital? My God … What about Jack? Is he OK?’

She watched as her frightened little boy looked back over his shoulder at her. He paused, then looked down at the floor, blinking
hard. He took a deep breath. ‘Anna’s on her own – they haven’t found Jack. She was at some cliffs, at the beach. They don’t
know where he is … I’m scared, Mum.’

Ursula closed her eyes. Dear God, what was going on? She opened her eyes again, and looked at Tony’s trembling hands. ‘I’ll
drive. Get in the car.’

She took the keys from Tony, then followed him outside and slammed the door behind her.

2
P.M
.

As they turned in to the hospital forecourt Tony reached for the door handle, opening it as soon as Ursula stopped the car
in an ambulance bay outside the emergency department. A group of ashen-faced patients attached to drips milled around in a
cloud of smoke, sucking on cigarettes. He jumped out of the car, and didn’t look back as his mum drove off to park. The automatic
glass doors opened and he ran towards the reception desk directly opposite them. The receptionist tapped at the computer behind
a glass window while he stood there, waiting. He cleared his throat, but she continued to look at her screen.

‘My wife …’ he said finally. ‘The police told me to come here. Her name’s Anna Patton.’

‘I’ll be with you in just a moment.’

He shook his head, and looked around the waiting room for someone else who might be able to help him. This was a hospital,
for God’s sake; was this woman’s typing more important than people dying? Didn’t she understand that Anna was lying hurt somewhere
in there, waiting for him? He turned back to the desk and put his hands on the counter.

‘Excuse me!’ he shouted. ‘My wife’s been in an accident – I need to see her now!’

The receptionist still didn’t look up, but she briefly stopped typing. ‘Have a seat, sir. I’ll let the doctors know you’re
here.’

He walked back towards the rows of chairs in the waiting room, too agitated to sit down. There were only two other people
there: an elderly man with a rattling cough and a young man in paint-speckled clothes clutching his elbow. They both stared
at the television mounted on the wall, showing some American chat show. He paced back and forth. The receptionist would have
rushed him through if Anna had been seriously hurt, wouldn’t she? Did she even know who Anna was or did she just enjoy acting
as gatekeeper? He watched people come and go through the plastic swing door to the emergency ward; it slapped open and closed,
teasing him with glimpses of what lay beyond. What were they doing to Anna through there? Every minute that passed was a minute
that Jack was still missing; he needed to see Anna now. At the thought of Jack still being out there somewhere, on his own,
his legs began to shake and he had to reach out to steady himself on the back of a chair. The whole situation was so absurd,
so unreal. Things like this didn’t happen to people like them – they were just a normal family. Acid burned in his throat
and he coughed. Suddenly filled with resolve, he looked around; no one was watching him. He put his head down, strode towards
the plastic door and pushed it open.

No one seemed to notice him inside either. In front of him was a long bench covered with piles of yellow folders, phones perching
precariously on top of them. A herd of staff in baggy blue and green outfits hovered over it. Around the outside of the room,
patients lay on trolleys and beds. Some had flimsy curtains drawn around them; others had nothing else to do but watch the
activity in the centre of the room.

He approached the end of the bench closest to him, where a man with a stethoscope around his neck sat on a stool scribbling
in a file.

‘Excuse me, I need to see Anna Patton – I was told she was here.’

‘Sorry, not my patient,’ the doctor said, barely looking up.

His cheeks flushed. He didn’t know whether to cry or scream. ‘For God’s sake! The police called me to say my wife’s here,
and my baby’s missing. Does anyone in this place care?’ His voice cracked.

The doctor closed the file and looked up. ‘Oh, that lady.’

‘What?’

‘Wait here for a minute. I’ll find out who you need to talk to.’

He couldn’t keep the sarcasm out of his voice. ‘Thank you.’

The doctor approached a tall, thin young man in green scrubs. They spoke quietly and the younger man nodded, put down his
pen and walked towards him, holding out one hand. Tony shook it, noticing the beetling veins in his forearms. The other doctors
and nurses skulked away.

‘Mr Patton, I’m Dr Hall, the registrar looking after your wife. Sorry to keep you waiting.’

‘Where is she? Is she all right? The police said —’

Dr Hall held out his hands, palms facing him, and spoke slowly. ‘First of all, she’s OK. She was pretty cold and shocked when
the ambulance picked her up, but she seems stable, physically.’

‘Thank God …’ He let out a big breath, then swallowed, trying to force the panic down again. ‘She was with my baby, Jack,
but the police said he wasn’t there. He’s not even six weeks old …’

Dr Hall cleared his throat and looked down. ‘Yes, the police told us that.’

‘They still haven’t found him?’ The room began to reel. He closed his eyes, but that made it worse, so he forced them back
open.

‘I don’t know. I haven’t heard anything, but I’m sure they’ll contact you the moment they have news. All I know is that your
wife was lying on some rocks just over the edge of a cliff. We’re assuming she fell.’ Dr Hall paused and looked at Tony. He
didn’t want to think about the implications of that look.

‘But Jack was with her. I don’t understand …’ How could they still not have found him? Jack couldn’t walk, he had to be where
Anna had left him; why hadn’t she told anyone where he was?

‘Mr Patton, I know the police are doing everything they can to find him.’

Dr Hall’s deliberately calm, slow voice petrified him. They must teach student doctors at medical school how to speak like
that in order to tell people they have only two weeks to live. He breathed deeply and forced himself to concentrate. ‘Can
I see her?’

Dr Hall nodded. ‘It would be great if you could try to talk to her. Anna hasn’t said anything to us yet.’

His eyes widened. ‘What do you mean she hasn’t said anything? You said she was OK!’

‘She is OK physically, apart from some cuts and bruises. My consultant’s going to come and have a look at her too, and we’ll
order some tests. But she isn’t responding to questions. We just don’t know what’s going on at this stage.’

The room began to spin once more; he looked for a wall to steady himself against. Dr Hall put his hand on his shoulder and
guided him to a chair. He sat, no longer sure that he could stand. What did he mean, Anna wasn’t responding to questions?
What was happening? There must have been a mistake – Anna had dropped Jack off somewhere, probably somewhere really obvious.
Think, think, think: where would she have taken him?

‘It’s a lot to take in, I know,’ Dr Hall said. ‘We need to know a bit about her medical history. Does she have any illnesses?’

‘No, no, she’s always been healthy.’

‘Has she been well recently?’

He hesitated. Could he honestly say she’d been well? He had convinced himself that she was, but he wasn’t sure he could trust
his judgement. ‘Well, yeah, I suppose so. She’s been tired, you know, a bit down, with the new baby … but she’s been well,
I mean —’

‘How about any medications – is she taking anything that you know of?’

He nodded. ‘She saw the GP a couple of weeks ago. She got some tablets to help her sleep.’

‘Can you remember what they’re called?’

‘I don’t know … Do you think this is something to do with the tablets? I’ve heard about people sleepwalking, driving cars
while they’re still asleep, that could explain why she was there …?’

Dr Hall shrugged. ‘At the moment we need to look into everything. I’ll give her GP a call. I’ll need to get some more information
from you, but that can wait.’

He struggled to his feet again. He could barely hold up his head. ‘Can I see her?’

Dr Hall glanced over Tony’s shoulder. ‘Of course.’

He was relieved. When he saw her, this would all make sense. Maybe Anna wouldn’t talk to the police and the doctors, but of
course she would talk to him. Anna had always told him everything. She would explain everything. She had to.

* * *

He followed Dr Hall past the patient bays to the door of a small room that he hadn’t noticed before. Dr Hall seemed to pause
for a second, then pushed open the door. He held it for Tony, nodded at him, then left.

From the doorway, he could see the familiar shape of Anna, curled up in a bed with her back towards him. The noise behind
him seemed to fade. All he could hear was her heavy breathing, and the beeps of the monitors attached to her.

‘Anna?’

Tony walked forward, letting the door swing closed behind him, then put his hand gently on her shoulder, which had escaped
from the shroud of the thin sheet.

‘Anna?’

Her muscles tensed under his hand. He increased the pressure, shaking her slightly. ‘Anna, it’s me, Tony. Are you OK?’

He slowly removed his hand and walked around to the other side of the bed. When he saw her face, he gasped. ‘Oh, Anna …’

The woman lying there was barely recognisable to him. She lay on her right side, curled up tightly like an injured dog. Her
eyes were open, her eyelids peeled back to stare at the wall. He turned his head and followed her line of vision, sure he
would see some horror etched there, but it was just a blank wall. Strands of her hair had escaped from the rubber band that
tied it back and were frozen in disarray, matted stiff with salt water and sand. Her pale lips blended almost perfectly into
her pallid face, though he could see them moving slightly. He leaned towards her, but couldn’t
catch any of the words she whispered. Her cheek and forehead were scribbled with dirty scratches and on her chest a bruise
was already forming around a deep cut.

‘Oh Jesus,’ he said. What had happened to her? ‘Anna, Anna, it’s me.’ He shook her now, harder, and his voice grew louder.
Her eyes flickered towards him, and for a moment he saw his wife peering at him. His Anna, who laughed every time he tried
to do a French accent; his Anna, who pretended that she didn’t let the dog sleep on the bed when he was away; his Anna, who
strapped Jack to her chest when he was upset and walked around with him for hours so that he could feel her heartbeat. For
just a moment he saw her, and knew how frightened she was, but before he could tell her that everything was all right, she
disappeared again.

He spoke again, but more softly so he wouldn’t scare her. ‘Anna, where’s Jack? Where’s the baby?’

Why wouldn’t she answer? Couldn’t she hear him? Didn’t she understand that they had to find Jack?

‘Anna? Please! This is important!’

He reeled back and sat down on a grey plastic chair in the corner. He held his head in his hands for a few moments. Nothing
made sense. He looked at Anna again, but she hadn’t moved. He considered shouting louder, slapping her cheek, but he knew
it would be useless. He couldn’t bear feeling so helpless. In the past he’d always known what to do if something was wrong,
how to fix it, but now, when it was the most important thing in the world, he had no idea.

The door creaked open behind him. He lifted his head and saw Dr Hall.

‘I heard a noise,’ the doctor said. ‘Are you OK?’

He shook his head at such an idiotic question: of course he wasn’t. He opened his mouth to answer, but had no words. What
was the point? He stood up and moved towards the door, but before he walked out, he remembered that the woman lying in the
bed was Anna. She was hurt; it wasn’t her fault. He turned back and kissed her forehead. She didn’t seem to notice; she just
kept staring
at the wall. He turned away from her again and went through the door Dr Hall held open for him.

They walked back to the bench, and both sat down.

‘I don’t understand,’ Tony began. ‘What’s wrong with her?’

‘Mr Patton, we’re not sure what’s going on at the moment, but we have a few things we want to do. At the moment we’re monitoring
her and ordering some tests. I’m organising a CT scan to rule out any significant head injuries, though there’s no neurological
signs to suggest that’s the case —’

Tony leaned forward, frowning. ‘Have you seen her? Obviously something’s wrong with her! She wasn’t like that this morning
…’ He stopped as the reality of the situation struck him afresh. Jack. He could see him, gazing up into his eyes as he guzzled
down the bottle of milk this morning before he left for work. He gripped the arms of the chair to stop himself crumpling in
a heap. ‘Oh God. Where’s the baby? Where’s Jack?’

‘I’m sure the police are doing everything they can.’

‘I need to go. If she’s like this …’ His breath quickened. ‘What the hell has happened? I have to go.’

Without waiting for a reply, he ran back towards reception, oblivious to everything around him. He pushed through the opaque
plastic doors and saw his mum standing near the main entrance with her back to him. Ursula’s arms were crossed, and she looked
up at a uniformed police officer.

Tony stopped, froze, then took a deep breath. It wasn’t what he thought: if it was bad news the police would have told him
first, not his mum. They would have asked the doctors where he was, or called his phone. The police officer was writing something
in a small black notebook. He strode forward.

‘Mum,’ he said, over her shoulder.

Ursula spun around, startled. ‘Anthony! What’s happening? Is Anna all right?’

He shook his head. ‘No … I don’t know. What about Jack? Have you heard anything?’

Ursula moved her head a little, not looking him in the eyes. ‘This is Constable Pagonis.’

He shook the hand offered to him, feeling the coarse hairs on the back of the policeman’s fingers. ‘What’s going on?’

‘I was just explaining to your mum, we’ve alerted all of our units and have several teams out looking for … the child.’

‘Jack,’ Tony said, narrowing his eyes. Was Jack so unimportant, so routine, that the police officer couldn’t even remember
his name? ‘His name is Jack.’

‘Is there anyone your wife could have left him with?’

‘I went through this on the phone already! No! Her mum lives in Western Australia, her best mate was at work. The only other
person she’d leave him with is Mum, but obviously that’s not the case …’ He took a sharp breath as his mind scrabbled for
something to cling to. ‘Maybe she left him at your place, Mum? She got there and you were gone so she left Jack with the neighbour
or something. Let’s —’