Authors: Sarah Armstrong
Anna sometimes had the feeling that she’d stepped into a parallel universe, a life she might have had if she and Pat had stuck it out.
She finished combing Charlie’s hair and gathered it into a stubby topknot. ‘Shall we go down to the creek now?
Charlie shook her head. Her voice was quiet. ‘I want to lie down.’
She lay on the mattress, her cheeks flushed and forehead hot under Anna’s hand.
‘How are you feeling?’
‘Yucky. Do you think Ralph might come?’
‘I don’t know. That would be nice, wouldn’t it? Here, drink some water.’
Charlie slept on her side, knees drawn up, while Anna washed the dishes and swept the floor. Sleep was the best cure, she figured. She felt Charlie’s forehead again. She was hotter.
‘Here, sit up and drink some more.’ She fanned Charlie with a book.
Charlie took a sleepy sip and fell back onto the pillow. She slept for another couple of hours and Anna wondered if she should wake her. She had no idea how to look after a sick child. They could get sicker faster, surely, since their bodies were small?
She kept fanning Charlie with the book and hummed a lullaby her aunt used to sing. But she couldn’t remember the whole tune, so she hummed the same refrain over and over, the book making a rhythmic, shushing noise.
Did her mother take care of her when she was sick? By shutting down her longing for her mother, might she also have shut down memories? But how could Anna have kept going if she’d let herself feel how much she missed her, how much she wanted her there every day? It would have paralysed her.
Charlie spoke much less of her mother now. Did Charlie sense that Anna preferred her not to talk about Gabby? Just as Anna had known to not talk about her mother?
Late in the afternoon, Charlie moaned and rolled over. Anna helped her sit up.
‘Have another drink, Charlie.’
The sheets were warm and damp with sweat. Anna shifted her to the dry side of the bed and unpegged clean sheets from the clothesline. She came back in to find Charlie vomiting over the side of the mattress. She wiped the girl’s mouth with a washer and covered the vomit with a towel. Charlie flopped back onto the pillow. Anna felt her forehead. So hot.
Anna crushed up half a Panadol and put it in Charlie’s mouth. ‘Drink it down.’
The little girl’s eyes opened wide as she swallowed. A minute later she vomited.
Anna wiped up the vomit.
Don’t panic. Don’t panic
.
What if Charlie was really sick? They were in the middle of bloody nowhere with no phone. Was it something Anna had done? Or not done? Creek water. Papaya. Something. It was all very well to pretend to be Charlie’s mother when the girl was healthy. A real mother wouldn’t let a child get sick like this.
Charlie lay back and started shuffling her legs about. ‘I’m cold,’ she said and shivered. Anna pulled the sheet and cotton blanket up.
‘Anna. Anna. It hurts.’ Charlie clutched at the blanket.
‘I’m here. What hurts, sweetie?’
‘My head. Owww. Owww.’
She rolled over to retch onto the pillow, her whole body shivering.
•
Anna carried Charlie down the hill. It was dusk and sections of the path were so dark she could hardly see her way. She had to rest every few minutes, and sink down onto the path, the girl in her arms. Charlie retched over Anna’s shoulder, the warm liquid running down Anna’s back.
‘It’s alright, sweetie. We’ll be at Pat’s soon.’
•
She climbed the verandah steps and Pat opened the door. ‘Here, on the couch,’ he said. ‘What is it?’ His hair was wet and he wore a sarong and t-shirt.
‘She’s vomiting and has a fever. I don’t know what to do.’ Anna lowered her onto the couch.
Charlie retched again, that terrible sound, and Anna caught the strand of yellow bile in her cupped hands.
‘How long’s she been vomiting?’ Pat laid a towel under Charlie’s head as Anna soaped her hands at the sink.
‘Half an hour. She’s had a fever since this morning.’
Charlie curled up and moaned.
‘Why don’t I call Beatie?’ said Pat.
Sabine called from the bedroom, ‘Phone Jo.’ She appeared in the doorway in her dressing gown.
‘No!’ said Anna. Not Jo. Then she’d know they were still there.
‘She’s a nurse,’ said Pat.
‘Okay.’
Pat disappeared into the bedroom to get the phone. Anna wet a tea-towel and wiped Charlie’s face. The girl’s skin was pasty and her mouth slack. Sabine sat at the end of the couch and stroked Charlie’s foot.
•
Jo pulled up half an hour later, a black bag in her hand. She knelt on floor beside the couch and laid a hand on Charlie’s forehead.
‘How long has she had the fever?’ She pulled an electronic thermometer from her bag.
‘Since about nine this morning. And she’s got a headache.’
‘Hi Charlie, I’m Jo. Where does your head hurt?’
Charlie didn’t open her eyes, and flopped her hand at her forehead.
‘I’m just going to take your temperature.’ Jo held the thermometer in Charlie’s ear until it beeped. Jo glanced at it and pinched the skin on the back of Charlie’s hand.
Charlie retched and Jo used the towel to wipe drool from the girl’s chin.
‘Here.’ Anna took the soiled towel and gave Jo a new one from the pile Pat had given her.
Charlie looked up at Anna, unblinking.
‘Anna,’ she whispered.
Anna stroked her forehead. Her skin was so hot and dry. ‘I’m here, I’m right here.’
Jo rolled the girl to look at her back and said, ‘When did she last do a wee?’
‘Umm . . . just before nine this morning, I guess.’
Jo sat back on her heels and ran a hand down her face. ‘Well, if it were me . . . if Charlie were
my
child,’ she looked meaningfully at Anna, ‘I’d be taking her to the hospital.’
‘Really?’ The hospital.
They’d be discovered. Anna looked over to Pat, who leant against the kitchen bench. He gave a small frown and glanced at Sabine.
Jo slid the thermometer back into her bag and zipped it up.
‘She’s got a fever of nearly forty. She’s dehydrated. She’s vomiting. She has a headache.’ Jo shrugged. ‘You can watch and wait, but if it’s something like meningococcal, and her symptoms do tick some meningococcal boxes, you do not want to wait around. I’d be on my way to hospital now.’
Anna’s mouth was dry. She knew how it worked at a hospital. You had to give ID, a Medicare card. Was it possible Jo was saying this so they’d come to the attention of the authorities?
‘My head hurts,’ Charlie sobbed and covered her eyes.
Anna looked at Pat. ‘Let’s go.’
He nodded, and Anna bent and gathered up Charlie. The girl felt so light and so hot.
Meningococcal
. What if Anna had left it too long?
•
It was dark outside. Anna climbed into the front seat of the ute and settled Charlie on her lap. Pat walked to the ute, locked in intense conversation with Sabine.
She grabbed his arm. ‘But of course they will think you are a part of it, Pat! You really could be in trouble.’
He laid his hand over hers. ‘Hey, I’m just driving them down there. You heard Jo, Charlie needs to be in hospital. Everything will be fine. I’ll call you.’
Sabine turned back to the house, her voice strangled. ‘I can’t believe you are doing this, Pat.’
Let’s go, let’s go
, Anna wanted to scream.
‘I’ll call you.’ Pat climbed in and shut his door.
He drove slowly, steering carefully through the potholes, easing his way around the corners. Anna felt another surge of fear that she had left it too late. The idea of Charlie dying in her arms made her guts turn to water.
‘Can you go faster?’
Pat glanced at her, his face serious in the green light from the dashboard. ‘Not much.’
Finally they reached the sealed road and he accelerated. She held Charlie tight through the bends to stop her flopping from side to side. Anna was not sure if she was asleep or unconscious.
On the outskirts of town, Pat asked, ‘How’s she going?’
‘I don’t know.’ As they passed streetlights she got a better look at Charlie’s face. Her eyes were closed and lips slightly parted. ‘How far’s the hospital?’
‘One or two minutes away.’
They were caught behind a few cars, people coming home late from work or heading out for the evening.
‘If they want her Medicare card,’ said Anna, ‘I’ll say I’ve left my handbag at home and I’ll give them the name and birthday of a child I know in Sydney.’ Emily’s daughter, Chloe.
‘Is that wise? Why not an invented name?’
‘Oh. Do you think that’s better?’ The headlights lit up the blue sign saying
Hospital
and he turned right.
Pat said, ‘I don’t think you should come in, Anna. I’ll take her. The two of you together would be really recognisable.’
Charlie gripped Anna tightly. She was awake after all.
‘No,’ she moaned. ‘I want Anna.’
Anna swallowed. ‘It’s better if he takes you in, Charlie. I’ll be right here in the car, waiting for you.’ Could he pass himself off as her father? Charlie might give it away.
‘Noooo, I want you. Please, please.’ Charlie burrowed her head into Anna’s stomach. ‘Please. Please.’
There was no way Anna could sit in the car while Charlie was inside that building. If they were caught, Anna needed to be with her.
‘Okay. It’s okay. I’m coming in with you. Don’t worry,’ said Anna.
Pat parked the car and pulled the handbrake on hard. ‘No, Anna. Don’t be stupid. Don’t risk it.’
‘She wants me in there.’
‘No.’ He put his face in his hands. ‘It’s madness. Don’t do it. She needs a doctor, she doesn’t need you.’
Charlie whimpered.
‘You don’t have to come in, Pat,’ said Anna.
Charlie whispered, ‘You’ll stay with me, won’t you, Anna?
Please, please, please
.’
‘I’ll stay with you.’ Anna stroked Charlie’s shoulder.
Pat exhaled hard and ran his hand down his face. ‘You’re not thinking straight.’
‘I’m staying with her.’
He sighed. ‘Okay. Let’s go.’
He came around to open the passenger door and spoke briskly. ‘So you’re her mum and I’m a friend and you left your Medicare card at home.’
‘We’re pretending that I’m your mum, okay, Charlie?’ said Anna.
The girl didn’t respond.
‘Your name is Annie,’ he said. ‘Her name is Chay.’
Charlie clung to Anna’s neck as Anna climbed out of the ute.
Pat said, ‘Do you want me to carry her?’
Anna shook her head and spoke into the girl’s ear. ‘We’re going to see a doctor to help you feel better.’
Charlie tightened her legs around Anna’s waist.
‘We’re pretending I’m your mum.’
Did Charlie still want her mum to come and find her? Might she take this chance to tell the hospital that Anna was not her mother?
Anna’s legs were shaky as they crossed the poorly lit carpark. She had to think about each step she took. Step up the gutter. Up the stairs. They wouldn’t be recognised, would they? Charlie looked different now – plumper and tanned – and Anna had short hair. Pat held open the glass entrance doors and they started down the hall, towards a sign pointing to Emergency.
A woman called to them from behind a reception desk. ‘Hello, are you going to Emergency? Can you please register here first?’ She smiled at Anna.
Pat said, ‘I’ll do it. She needs to get our daughter to help.’
‘Yes, of course,’ the woman said.
Our daughter?
Bloody hell. That wasn’t what they’d decided on, was it? Anna’s head swam; she couldn’t remember. All she knew was her promise to stay with Charlie. She felt robotic as she headed down the wide hallway. This hospital might well be the last place she’d hold Charlie in her arms.
She murmured into Charlie’s ear, ‘It’s okay. We’re going to help you feel better.’
A dark-haired nurse in blue scrubs met them at the door to Emergency. ‘Hi there. What’s happening?’
Anna had to swallow before she could speak. ‘Fever. Vomiting. And now she has a headache.’
Charlie looked up at her with a sweet, beseeching look and Anna felt a terrible shimmer of fear.
‘Alright. Bring her over here.’ The nurse was reassuringly calm. Anna was faintly aware of a couple of people sitting in the waiting room behind her as the nurse ushered her past another woman typing at a computer. The nurse pointed to a bed in the three-bed ward. ‘Best if you climb up and hold your daughter on your lap.’
An old man lay under a blanket in the next bed, his eyes closed.
Anna settled on the white-sheeted bed with Charlie leaning back on her. The nurse wheeled a small trolley over and put a plastic bag on the bed beside Anna.
‘That’s in case she needs to vomit. How long has she had a fever?’
‘Since about nine this morning.’
The nurse drew the curtain between the two beds and raised the back of the bed. ‘Okay, I’ll just check her temperature. What’s her name and how old is she?’
‘She’s five.’
What name had Pat said they should use? Oh God.
‘Just popping this on your finger, sweetie. It won’t hurt.’ The nurse clipped something onto the end of one of Charlie’s fingers. ‘What’s your name, sweetheart?’
Charlie closed her eyes and Anna said, ‘Her name’s Possum.’
‘Possum?’ The woman blinked at her.
‘Well, no, but that will work best for her. You know . . . that’s the name she’s decided on lately . . .’
Hurry up and check her over
, she wanted to scream.
The nurse smiled. ‘Okay, Possum, open your eyes again for me.’
Charlie’s eyes fluttered open.
‘My name’s Sam. I’m going to take your temperature, so I’ll put this in your ear.’ She showed the thermometer to Charlie and slid it into her ear. It beeped a few seconds later.
‘Oh yes, she’s hot. Have you given her anything for the headache and fever?’
‘I tried to give her some Panadol but she vomited it straight up.’
The nurse made some notes on a clipboard. ‘And what’s your name, Mum?’
‘Annie.’
‘And is Possum immunised?’
Bloody hell. Anna had no idea. Would Gabby have bothered to get her immunised?