A Shot at Freedom (16 page)

Chapter Twenty
Eight

Brooke

On the outer deck, the wind blew her hair across her face, slashing her eyes. She pulled it back at the nape of her neck. The tie of her halter top flicked around, tickling her back, sending a shudder through her body. She couldn’t go inside. Motion sickness was at its worst with a rocky horizon and the absence of fresh air.

Her phone had remained lifeless since the last text
, yet she clutched at it, with one goal, to limit the texts she sent back to get him to respond, each one for reassurance could push him further away, make him think twice. It was such a fragile connection. She was reliant on his mind remaining unchanged, staying clear in thought, remembering the years they had spent together.

The water churned around the base of the craft as it eased into the jetty. Brooke joined the
queue inside up the aisle, her eyes searching the windows for any signs of a park. All she could see were jetties and boats and when she finally made it outside onto the dock, she saw the sign,
Welcome to Shute Harbour
.

As she followed the masses, she became conscious of a girl falling into step with her, she moved forward into the spaces in the crowd. The girl slipped
behind her but then appeared again in front, glancing at back at Brooke over her shoulder, past a curtain of sleek dark hair.

“You look a little lost,” the girl said, falling into step with her
again.

“I was after a park?”

“Finally,” The girl said as though talking to the heavens. “There are parks everywhere in the world?”

“At Airlie Beach.
On the water. I’m meeting a friend.”

The girl nodded
slowly. “I’m heading that way. You need a bus from here.”

“Is it far?”

“Far enough to make walking a massive chore.” The girl jumped onto a bus nodding at the driver, finding a seat. “I’m Greta.”

Brooke sat across the aisle from her.

“Gorgeous name.”

“Thanks
.” Greta continued to hold her gaze. “Are you goin’a tell me yours then?”

“Brooke.”

Greta nodded, gazing at her a moment and then, unsuccessfully concealing a smile, turning to look out the window.

“What?”

“Nothing. Just needs a little spicing up.”

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

***

David

A bouncing tennis ball woke David. A cap pulled low over his face concealed his vision. He
tipped it back carefully with his good arm, noticing his broken wrist had a weight to it. One of his old t-shirts had been bandaged around it, a makeshift cast. Any movement in his fingers sent a shrieking pain through his arm. His bag was pressed against his other hip. The gun was gone, most probably hidden in his bag. A bag of sandwiches and water lay on top. Gloria had been back.

A kid
leapt over him after the ball. The ball flew in an arc above him. The kid hurdled over him again. It was as though he wasn’t there, just a rock to jump over, a lifeless lump in the way of a good game of cricket.

***

Brooke

Brooke stepped off the bus, following Greta
onto a pathway through the park. Greta didn’t turn to talk to her. Brooke trusted her instinct and the heat building in her body that she was finally close to David, and broke into a run, selecting the path that seemed to be taking her to the water, imagining him waiting for her there on a rock or on the sand.

“Where are you going?” Gret
a called after her.

She turned around, walking backwards and waving her thanks.

“He’ll be waiting for you down here,” Greta said pointing to a distant grove of trees.

Brooke stopped
, feeling her face scrunch up in curious disbelief. She followed Greta over the footbridge. A long path wound its way ahead. Unable to hold back, she broke into a jog, then an ungainly run, knees knocking together.

The path led her into a wide open area, cut by the sea. The tide was out, exposing paradise’s ugly muddy secret.  She spun around slowly. Nobody was looking
at her, mothers on a picnic blanket sipping wine, kids playing cricket, all engrossed in their own lives. Her eyes locked on anything that moved as she turned looking for him, feeling dizzy.

***

David

He
heard her voice again.

“David?”

“Gloria? Go away. You said you wanted to leave me alone.”

“David?”

“Don’t come near me Gloria, I’m okay.”

“Who’s Gloria?”

Nerves in his neck pinched as he pivoted to face her. Brooke was standing above him. Sent from the sun’s rays, she seemed an illusion to him. He closed his eyes expecting death to take him, knowing that she was the last thing he’d see, real or make believe. But nothing profound seemed to shift in his body.

His legs twitched, moving on their own.

***

Brooke

Brooke knelt at David’s head, pulling tissues out of her bag. Her hands shook and her chest ached. “You need an ambulance.”

“No
. I’m fine.”

“That’s crap. I’ve never seen you like this.”
She dabbed at blood smears but they had dried. “Can you feel me?”

“Yes.”

“You’re not moving. Can you move?”

“I don’t want to
,” he replied, grimacing. “I can move. I walked here.”

“What happened to you?”

“Fell down some stairs.” He was looking at her strangely.

“What?”
she asked.

“How the hell did you find me?”

“Well, how the hell did you ignore nearly every text I sent you? You kept me hanging. All I needed was to hear where you were. Then when this happens, you figure it’s fine to give in.”

“Huh?”

“What happened to you? Who did this?”

“I don’t think you need me to paint a pretty picture for you Brooke.”

“Where are you staying?”

“Nowhere.”

“I have a job and a bed. You can live with me.”

David wasn’t moving, but as she knelt over him, she could look down into him, and knew he was seeing her. Eyes were like that, they held more honest thoughts than words. And his eyes were familiar, a
pool of green she knew better than any other.

“You need an ambulance.”

“Nope. They’ll call someone.”

“Big deal, so they’ll call your mother. What’s she going to do? Come up here?” Brooke sat back on her haunches and watched his face twitch. “She can’t come up here though
, can she?”

“
I don’t want her to worry.”

“
Worry happens when you up and leave and don’t call someone. I’m calling an ambulance and you should call your mother.”

“I didn’t text you.”

“You told me you were here. I’ll show you,” Brooke scrolled through her messages.

“My phone’s dead.”

Brooke sat back on her haunches, looked at the phone he tapped in his pocket. She pulled it out and opened it up, standing and surveying the park.

Greta
had disappeared.

Chapter Twenty
Nine

David

The nurse was settling him into his bed. “Who can we contact for you?” she asked.

He watched the way her face furrowed and twitched as she tucked his pillows behind him and smoothed out his bedding. “N
obody,” he murmured.

“Surely there’s someone around who might care that you’ve been banged up this bad
? You’re dehydrated as all get out.”

The
ir eyes met, and he looked away. “I’m okay. I just need to sleep and I’ll feel better.”

“My mother would want to be here with me.”

“Mine would too. But she can’t. So there’s no point in making her worry.”

***

Brooke

Brooke placed a call to her mother. She didn’t know how to say hi anymore, so she just started in with what she had to say. “Mum, I’ve found David.” The words sounded surreal, but it was true.

Her mother sighed. “So you’re coming home.”

“He’s been
in a fight, but he’s going to be fine. He’s coming to live with me. I’m looking after him. I want you to tell his mum he’s okay.”

“Bring him home. Come home. We’ll work something out
together.”

“We’re not coming home, Mum.”

“You’re being stupid about this, Brooke.”

Brooke
tried to bite down on her next words. Tension mounted within her until eventually she couldn’t hold back. “He has no home because of you. You kept him from having a family. All those years, you played with his dad’s head.”

“
Brooke we need to talk about that. I know if you listen to me you will understand.”

“
Mum, you’re married to Dad. David’s parents were married to each other. It should have been as clean as that. We shouldn’t even be having all these ridiculous conversations.”

“
Have you noticed that whenever David’s in the picture you and I can’t have a decent conversation about anything?”

“I
t’s like when we’re talking you’re just picking at me.”

“What have I said
–?”

“It’s what you’re not saying. I don’t need it.
I need David. I have David. If we go back to you, you’ll get rid of him. I won’t have him anymore.” Brooke hung up. She squeezed the phone in her fist, then tossed it in her bag, flopping back in the chair. Her mother just didn’t get it. Her head was so tied up in herself and what she wanted, there was no room to think about what anyone else was saying.

Brooke stood up and peered round the corner. The hospital hall was long and empty. She knew David was down there somewhere.
She fixed herself a coffee from the machine, black with two sugars, and sipped on it. Every time a door opened or she heard footsteps, she looked up to see if it was a nurse coming to speak to her. As a distraction, she tried counting the hundreds of tiny black beads on the handbag Dana had given to her.

Finally, a friendly face sauntered towards her,
“He’s waiting for you. Room 309.”

Brooke dropped the tattered
Madison
magazine down on the pile, and hauled herself out of the chair, clutching her bag to her chest. “Is he okay?”

“I’ll let him fill you in.”

Brooke accepted then she’d never hear the full story.

She
was conscious of the squeak of her shoes on the waxy floor as she went in search of the room. He was in a ward with a row of beds, curtains pulled on some for privacy.

“David?”

“In here.”

Taking a gamble she peeped through a gap in one of the curtains. David lay flat in the bed. A thin cut across the bruise on his temple and a cast on his wrist were all the wounds she could see.

The swish of the curtains brushed her back
, as she moved in and pulled up a seat.

“
Does it hurt?”

David laughed. His gaze stuck on the ceiling.

“At least you can still draw.”
              “Yep,” he said, lifting his left hand and flexing his wrist.

“Where does it hurt the most?”

There was some glass in my back. I have stitches, the cuts are all bandaged up. I think they got everything, but they had to go digging. When the anaesthetic wears off, I’ll have to see if I feel anything more.” He stroked his lower chest. “My ribs again.”

“Did you tell them they always break?”

“The doctor said something about it. It was in the x-rays.” David said, shrugging a shoulder. “Ribs fix themselves eventually.”

“You’re not moving much.”

“I’m sore. My back hurts a bit.”

She noticed David swallow. His
lips kept twitching into a half-baked smile. The silence between them was hard to take. She perched on the edge of the seat. “I don’t know what to say to you. It’s been a long time.”

“I called.”

“You left me at a truck stop.”

“Are you still mad about that?”

“I never want you to leave me like that again. I’m scared you will. It’s something I never imagined you would do, but you did it.”

He turned his head to look at her
, wincing but with one eyebrow raised. “How did you get up here?”

“That waitress you had the hots for at the truck
stop helped me get in touch with a youth shelter. They took me in and helped me look for work. They were really good to me, especially in the end.”

“I thought you’d go home.”

“What happened to the ute?”

“I left it and hitched up here. You would have hated it
, all the camping out.”

“You’ve been up here a while then,” she prompted.

“Yeah. I found work at a marina. And then when that didn’t work out, I found a job at a pub.  Now I’m not much good to anyone.”

She cleared her throat
. “I’ve got a job. You’re going to have to come back with me to my place to recover.”

“Hope it pays well.”
David turned back to stare at the roof. He closed his eyes.

“We’re together again. That’s all that matters.”

A tear slipped from David’s eye running down into his hair. He brushed it away.

Brooke swallowed
. “Are you going to leave me again, David?”

“Nope.”

A sigh escaped her lips, and she propped up her chin with her hand, not taking her eyes off him. “Do you know about your dad?”

“Yep.”

“Did you know about your dad when you left me at that truck stop?”

“Yep.”

“Your mum did it…shot him?”

David’s eyes flickered but kept staring at the roof.

“I’m sorry. You probably don’t want to talk about it.” She reached for his good hand, clasping it gently in her own. He let her.

He cleared his throat
. “Your mother and my father loved each other like you and me do.”

Brooke could feel the coffee kick in.
It was hard to mask her surprise, but knew if she spoke the words would tumble all over each other.
Love?
David never used the word.

“
They were kids growing up together in the same houses we did only mine was better back then; friends like us. When they talked they understood each other. When they didn’t talk, it was okay too. My dad got drunk one night and picked my mother up in a bar and got her pregnant. Your mother didn’t want him any more; she told him he needed to do the right thing. I know to this day it’s the only reason my parents got married.”

“Because your mum was pregnant?”

“Nope, because your mum wanted him to do the right thing. He did it to please her. Then, your mum got mad and even, and married your dad.” David shifted in his bed, reaching for a glass of water, sipping from the straw. “My father did your mother a favour. He gave her an opportunity to have a nice life. His life went to shit. And he ranted about this story my whole life. Me and Mum were always in his way.”

“I think they were having an affair. That last night
, the night we left, I caught them together.”

“Why? What did you see?”

“They were hugging.”

“Hugging?”

“Yeah.”

“Brooke, we hug all the time. They grew up together, like we did. Dad would have had more from your mum if she’d let him but she never did.
Believe me I know, he would’ve been happy if they were having an affair. He would have left me and Mum alone. I know your mother never gave into him.” David blew his curls up off his face, and rolled his eyes away from her. “I’m stronger than my dad. I saw all the crap I left behind in my shitty little life clearly.  That’s why I left you at the truck stop. I thought it’d be easier than knocking up some stranger and getting married.”

Brooke stroked the back of his hand with her thumb, taking it in,
“Good try, but I could never get mad enough to ditch you and go off and marry someone else.”

“You’re such a liar. You’d never forgive me.”

“Shut up. I don’t want to think about it. It’s hypothetical, isn’t it?”

“Let’s hope so.”

***

David

David woke to a twinge through his back, when
Brooke stretched out on the bed beside him causing the mattress to dip. The curtains were pulled. He stretched one arm and grimaced. The pain killers were wearing off.

“D
o you want anything?” she asked him.

“
They gave me pethidine before.”

“I’ll go see the nurses.”

“It’s getting late. Should you be heading home?”

“I’m not going back until morning.”

“What about your job?”

“I don’t start
my shift until 12:00. I’ll wait and see what the doctor says in the morning.”
              “I’m not going anywhere Brooke.”

“That’s the first hint of a promise I’ve heard you make.”

***

Brooke

The nurses had set up a makeshift stretcher for Brooke. She lay on it, but kept her arm stretched up so she could hold David’s hand. She sat up to check on him.

“You have to stop worrying,” he whispered, making her jump.

“I’m not. I can’t sleep.”

“I’ve been thinking. I want you to go back to Hampton tomorrow
and stay there. You need to focus on keeping your job or we’re both stuffed.”

“I can’t do that,” she said
. “Won’t the doctor be here in the morning? He might tell you to leave.”

“He might. But don’t get your hopes up.”

“How bad do you really feel David?”

“I’m not sure. I don’t know what’s real and what’s just tiredness. I know it hurts.”

“What if you’re here for a week? I can’t stay over there on my own knowing you’re here.”

“Keep busy. Just give me space to get better.”

“If you feel better you won’t call me.”

“I promise I will.”

“If you’re lying to me David, I can never forgive you this time.”

***

David

David was proud of the way she walked out in the morning
, wearing the same tired clothes from the day before, chin held high. Even though she didn’t want to leave and was scared he wasn’t going to keep his word, she didn’t turn back once. It got him thinking about how things could be.