Stella Makes Good (21 page)

‘Wow! I didn’t see that coming.’

‘Me either.’

Carly thought for a moment. ‘I was aware that Louisa had left Sydney suddenly, but I had no idea . . . And now she’s back.’

Stella nodded. ‘That’ll make for an interesting showdown with Steve. I haven’t seen him yet this morning.’

‘Count your blessings. Have you seen Jesse?’

Stella shook her head. ‘No, but Tom was saying she’s had a couple of mild seizures—’

‘What?’

‘It’s okay. I’ve spoken to Mike about them but . . .’ Stella hesitated.

‘But what?’

‘I get the feeling he’s not telling me everything. I feel like there’s more we could be doing.’

‘But what?’

Stella frowned. ‘Look who’s here.’

Carly followed Stella’s gaze. It was Pete from the pub. An image of him nude and cavorting on a sofa with several other naked people popped into her head.

He saw them and walked over. ‘Ladies,’ he said, ‘I’m sorry we’re not meeting again in better circumstances.’

Carly couldn’t help herself: she giggled nervously.

He glanced at her. ‘Not those circumstances.’ He indicated their bench. ‘Do you mind?’

Stella and Carly shuffled along a little to make room.

‘I want to apologise for taking you to that party,’ Pete said. ‘I knew what was going on, but Mike and Toby had no idea. I’m sorry for dragging you both along.’

‘No one dragged us,’ Carly said. ‘We went freely.’

‘Speak for yourself,’ said Stella.

Carly nodded. ‘Okay, I dragged Stella, but Pete, you didn’t drag me anywhere.’

‘Still, you weren’t expecting that sort of party, and then seeing your friend’s husband . . . It’s not good.’

‘Do you have any updates on Jesse?’ Carly asked.

‘I’m not her doctor. I think she’s stable, though.’

Stable was better than unstable, Carly thought.

He stood up. ‘Nice seeing you both again.’ And walked away.

‘That must have been hard for him,’ said Stella.

‘I guess. I keep wondering where we’d be today if we hadn’t gone to that party. If we’d gone home like you wanted to.’

‘I doubt we’d be here,’ Stella said, ‘but you can’t change what’s happened. Should we go up and see her?’

Carly glanced through the cafe window and noticed that Tom and Dot were at the counter. ‘I don’t want to intrude, but yeah, I would like to see her. And then I might go into the city. Walk in Hyde Park. Meet Brett for lunch.’

‘Sounds nice,’ said Stella.

It did sound nice. Carly couldn’t remember the last time she’d been into Brett’s office. A few hours in the city might be just the boost she needed. Brett was always telling her that she took no interest in his work, so she’d surprise him. Show him that she could be an involved and interested wife.

esse shifted uncomfortably in her sleep, pictures and thoughts racing through her mind. It dawned on her that she could hear her father crying. He never cried.

‘Dad, what’s wrong? What’s the matter? Are you hurt? What’s happened?’

He didn’t answer.

Dot was there, too: she called out Jesse’s name.

‘I’m right here,’ Jesse said.

‘How did this happen?’ her mother was asking, her voice shaking with anger.

Her dad replied that he didn’t know.

Jesse could see herself: it was weird. She was seven years old and lying beside the river in the spot where her family used to go on camping holidays. Gradually, the picture became sharper. It was very dark and the trees, gums, towered above her. There was a heavy mist and a cool breeze. Jesse was wet, her clothes were soaking. Her parents were hunched over her, both crying.

Louisa and Jesse had been playing a silly game. Their father was supposed to be keeping his eye on them but he’d fallen asleep under his newspaper. They were daring each other.
Higher
, they screeched as each took it in turn to jump from tree branches into the water below. Higher and higher they climbed, taking greater risks each time.

Jesse jumped and missed her mark, hitting her head on a submerged rock. The current dragged her downstream, pulling her under the water. Her head hurt; it was bleeding when her dad eventually pulled her out of the water. Jesse could see herself lying very still. Then she started coughing, vomiting, shivering . . .

‘She’s going to be okay,’ her dad was saying. ‘She’s fine. Our little girl is going to be just fine.’

‘I knew she’d be all right,’ said Louisa, her voice little more than a whisper.

Louisa was beside her and Jesse felt comforted. Her big sister was back and everything would be okay. Jesse smiled to herself. She just needed to rest a little longer.

‘I thought they’d never leave,’ Louisa said to Jesse. Tom had taken Dot off for a walk and some fresh air. She sat down in her mother’s vacated chair and took Jesse’s hand in hers. It was limp and warm. ‘If you wanted me to visit, you could have asked. You didn’t need to go to such extremes.’

Four years. It had been four years since Louisa had seen her sister.

‘I’ve been thinking about that time you, Ollie and Emily came to visit me in San Francisco,’ she went on, deliberately keeping her voice cheerful. ‘Remember how we hired that red convertible Mustang and drove down the coast to Los Angeles and Disneyland? Magic.’ She stroked Jesse’s arm before holding her hand again. ‘We had so much fun. Ollie and Em didn’t want to leave Disneyland, even though it was almost ten o’clock at night and they could barely keep their eyes open.’

Louisa thought back to how the holiday had ended . . . waving them goodbye at the airport. She remembered Jesse saying, ‘Come home soon, darling. We miss you.’ And she’d blown Louisa a kiss before the three of them had disappeared behind the departure gates.

‘I loved that holiday,’ Louisa said, tearing up. ‘Come on, Jesse. Say something. Anything.’ She kissed her sister’s hand as tears streamed down her cheeks. ‘I’m so sorry I haven’t been here for you. That I left you. I’ll make it up to you, really I will. Just wake up, okay?’

It was strangely calm and quiet in the room, apart from the whistling and beeping of the machines. Louisa felt powerless. There was nothing she could do to help. She let go of Jesse’s hand and it lay where she’d left it, red and creased from Louisa’s vice-like grip. She stood up and walked around the room, looking at the flowers, reading the dozen or more cards that had been sent. November lilies mostly, a bunch of cream lisianthus and a box of colourful gerberas with a bright pink helium balloon encouraging Jesse to
Get Well Soon
.

Louisa sat back down again. ‘Jesse, it’s really strange being back. Mum and Dad . . . well, they don’t look like our parents. They’re so sad. It’s like they’ve given up. We need you, Jess. Come back to us. We all love you, darling girl. Wake up! Tell me you’re okay. I won’t neglect you again.’

A noise came from behind her and Louisa looked up to see Steve in the doorway. It was the first time she’d seen him in six years. She stood up, fighting to control her feelings, resisting the urge to physically attack him. He was responsible for this tragedy.

Steve didn’t look too pleased to see Louisa either. ‘Ollie, say hello to your Auntie Louisa,’ he said, rather than greeting her himself. He turned back to the corridor. ‘Where’s he gone?’

‘It’s okay,’ Louisa said. ‘I’ll find him.’ She rushed past Steve into the corridor.

It didn’t take her long to spot her nephew hiding behind a trolley of dirty linen. ‘Hi, Ollie,’ she said brightly. ‘Look at you! You’re so tall now.’ She gave him a hug, even though he resisted. It was awkward and her arms felt heavy around his slight frame. ‘I’m so sad about your mum. Will you come in to see her?’

He shrugged. Louisa was taken aback by how much he looked like Jesse: her olive skin and green eyes. The same sandy hair, too.

‘Come on, I’ll hold your hand,’ she said.

He hesitated for a moment before allowing her to lead him inside, towards Jesse’s bed.

‘It’s like she’s sleeping,’ Louisa said.

‘Mum doesn’t sleep with hoses coming out of her mouth and nose.’

‘Oliver!’ Steve barked.

‘No, he’s right. It was a silly thing for me to say. Where’s Emily?’

‘Downstairs with her grandparents.’ He shook his head and continued, ‘Ollie wanted to kiss his mum good morning before he goes to school.’

‘She’s getting better, isn’t she, Dad?’

‘I hope so.’

Louisa thought it odd that this brave little boy, with his perfectly ironed grey shirt and shorts and navy and red striped tie, had to go to school and spend the day mastering fractions and comprehension while his mother lay here in a coma.

Ollie kissed Jesse hesitantly on her bruised, puffy cheek and then ran out of the room.

‘Should we go after him?’ Louisa asked.

Steve sighed. ‘He and Emily are doing it tough.’

‘Steve, I’m so sorry,’ Louisa said, forgetting her anger and focusing on the children.

‘I bet this isn’t the homecoming you had in mind.’

‘No, but Jesse’s going to be okay. I know it.’

‘It doesn’t seem real. Four days ago she was fine . . . and now this.’ He seemed bemused. ‘Why?’

Louisa shook her head. ‘Accidents happen. I guess she also had a lot on her mind.’

‘Like what?’

She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Hello?

‘Are you forgetting any special parties you’ve been to lately?’ she said.

‘One lousy party. Anyway, this isn’t about me. It’s about Jesse. We need her to get better so we can move on from all of this,’ he waved his arms in the air, ‘and start over fresh.’ He shook his head and stared at Jesse’s still body. ‘Why did she do it?’

‘It wasn’t on purpose.’

Steve didn’t respond.

‘Mum mentioned something about—’

‘God, your mother! She hasn’t shut up since she got here.’

Louisa wanted to tell him to leave her family alone, but she couldn’t be that hypocritical. She preferred to live in another country and rarely spoke to her parents. Then again, she hadn’t married Jesse and chosen to live in the same city as her in-laws. Still, she took another tack.

‘Before all of this happened, Jesse told me she wanted to have another baby and you said—’

‘It’s none of your business what I said.’

‘She’s wanted another baby for a long time.’

‘I don’t have to listen to this.’

‘You told her that it was “fiscally irresponsible to bring another child into this unpredictable world”.’

‘So what if I did?’

‘Jeez, Steve, you’re unbelievable! No wonder she’s been nervous.’

Steve stared at Jesse. ‘So you’re saying she did this to punish me?’

‘I can think of better ways to punish you than by slamming into a tree.’

Why had she said that? This was too awful. She couldn’t face Steve any more. She needed to get out of the room and breathe in some fresh air. She turned to leave, and almost bumped into a man in a white doctor’s coat who was hovering in the doorway. He moved closer and Louisa read his name tag:
Dr Mike Thompson
.

‘How’s she doing?’ Steve asked him.

‘She’s not responding as well as we had hoped.’

‘But she’s all right, isn’t she? I mean, it might take a while, but she’ll be okay?’ Louisa said.

‘This is Louisa, Jesse’s sister,’ said Steve.

Doctor Thompson nodded in her direction. ‘It’s taking longer than is ideal.’

‘What does that mean?’ Louisa asked.

Another doctor strode into the room as she spoke. ‘Doctor Phillips,’ she offered as she went straight to Jesse.

‘Louisa, Jesse’s sister,’ Louisa replied.

It was Doctor Phillips who answered Louisa’s question. ‘No two coma patients are the same. Some are displaying movement and making sounds by this stage; some, like Jesse, aren’t. The hard truth about coma is that we don’t know how well, or even if, the patient will recover. Recovery from any brain injury, especially one as significant as Jesse’s, takes time.’

‘Can we do anything to help her?’ Louisa asked.

‘You’re doing all you can by being here and talking to her. You could also try playing her favourite music and maybe even reading stories. It all helps. But right now, we need to continue our tests.’ She turned to Steve. ‘We’re going to raise Jesse’s temperature to see how her brain responds.’

Steve nodded and Doctor Thompson ushered him and Louisa from the room. As they walked away, the ‘Do not disturb’ light outside Jesse’s door flashed in red neon.

Doctor Phillips’ words played through Louisa’s mind:
The hard truth about coma is that we don’t know how well, or even if, the patient will recover.
Any scenario other than Jesse waking up and walking out of the hospital unaided didn’t bear thinking about. She was going to be fine. Any minute now, she would wake up and wonder what all the fuss was about. Louisa could imagine how horrified Jesse would be that her family and friends had spent days grieving around her.

The last thing Louisa wanted to do was hang out with Steve, but he was heading to the cafeteria to meet up with her parents, who were looking after Ollie and Emmy. And, strangely, Louisa wanted to be near her family right now.

Louisa, Dot and Tom were sitting by the window, watching Ollie and Emily, who were outside in the playground.

‘Coffee?’ Tom asked Louisa.

‘Thanks. Strong. Black.’

‘Two sugars, right?’

‘No sugar, thanks.’

‘Of course,’ said Tom.

‘We’ll go home soon, Louisa, so you can rest,’ Dot said.

‘I’m okay,’ Louisa said.

Emily came inside. She was the image of Steve: dark brown eyes, straight brown hair, thickset, almost the complete opposite of Oliver’s build and complexion.

‘Hi, Emily,’ Louisa said. ‘Remember me?’

Emily ran behind her father’s back. Half an arm reached out to snatch the remains of a muffin Dot had been pulling apart. Dot didn’t notice; she was staring out the window at a man sitting in a wheelchair in the morning sunshine.

Tom returned with a coffee, which he placed in front of Louisa. He watched while she took a sip. ‘Okay?’ he asked.

Louisa nodded. ‘Perfect.’

Everyone was tired. Worn out. Trying to make sense of the last four days. But still, Louisa was itching to have a go at Steve. How he could stand there like he’d done nothing wrong was incomprehensible to her. She glared at him but he took no notice.

‘Go and play on the swings with Ollie,’ he told Emily, ‘while I have a word with Nanna and Pop.’ She obeyed him and he turned to his in-laws. ‘The doctors say Jesse’s not doing as well as they’d expected.’

‘She has internal injuries,’ Dot said. ‘It was only the airbag that saved her. She drove so fast into that tree. Why?’ She banged her fist on the table.

‘Easy, love,’ said Tom, grabbing her hand and pulling it towards him.

‘She’s going to be fine, Mum. You’ll see,’ said Louisa, struggling to keep her voice calm. The last thing they needed was her mother’s theatrics taking centrestage.

‘I knew something was up with her, Louisa. I knew it. She hasn’t been herself.’