Heart of Glass (37 page)

“
It’s a lot to think
about,” he said. “Why don’t you go home, read up, and try to let it
all sink in. Then you can come and see me in a couple of weeks and
we can discuss your options. There’s plenty of time, rest and
relax. I’ll write you a certificate for the remainder of the week,
until you get back on your feet again.”

He scribbled on his medical
pad and tore the sheet off, handing it to me. “I’ll see you in a
couple of weeks.”

I dragged myself home. A
weight had descended on my shoulders, I felt exhausted and ill,
even more so than I had before the visit to the doctor. Until then,
I’d been prepared to soldier on but not any more. All I wanted to
do was to curl up in a little ball and sleep for a very long time.
It was as if Dr Carter had placed a huge sandstone block on my back
and said “here, you’re a strong girl; carry this around for a
while, will you” and I didn’t know if I could carry the weight
alone, but I had to try. For a while at least.

***

Getting past Mum’s maternal
radar was a hurdle but I didn’t want her to know. Not until I’d
decided how I wanted to approach the whole thing. I didn’t want
anyone to know. Above all, Ben.

“
I thought I might go up to
the cottage if that’s okay? Can I swing by and get the keys?” I
said, trying to sound light and breezy. “I’m a bit under the
weather and the doctor has given me a week off work.”

On the other end of the
phone, I heard her tongue clicking, ready to launch into one of
those speeches. “I told you that high powered job would be the
death of you. Your health is very important.”

She never changed; she was
like a well-read book. Even though you knew the ending, you still
kept on reading. I sighed.

“
Yes, I know,
Mum.”

“
What’re you going to do up
there all alone? You know there’s no TV or telephone.” She went
silent, obviously contriving scenarios of all the possible mischief
I could get up to on my own. “You’re not taking drugs again, are
you?”

“
No Mum. I’m going to rest
and read. I have my portable stereo. I won’t be lonely.”

“
Hmm. As long as there’s
nothing wrong.” I could hear from those clipped ladylike tones that
she remained skeptical. I could imagine her on the other end of the
line with a dust cloth in her hand, polishing the handset of the
phone as she spoke, like the stereotypical woman from old editions
of Home Beautiful.

“
Can I have the
keys?”

“
Of course, you can. But do
make sure to go into the Bay and phone regularly, you know your
father and I worry. And be careful driving up that coast road. It’s
very dangerous this time of year.”

“
Yes, Mum.”

***

On my first Sunday away from
home, more out of guilt than anything, I rode one of the old
bicycles into town and called Mum. It was a peace keeping measure
as such, for I knew that if I didn’t she’d be up the coast after me
like a shot, bringing me home and chastising me all the way for
thoughtless behaviour. My mother in one of her rampages could
silence warring factions in the Middle East and her stare, when
slighted, was arctic at best.

“
How are you feeling?” she
asked, concerned.

“
I feel much better. I’ve
been sleeping a lot but I’m starting to unwind, now.” I wasn’t
going to tell her that sleep was my ostrich technique. I couldn’t
face the thought of telling Ben and having him reject
me.

“
That’s good, darling. Are
you eating well?”

“
Yes. I brought food with
me. I had a look at the General Store in the Bay but the trash they
sell is still overpriced and looks like it’s breaking a number of
health codes. I think I’ll come back down to stock up tomorrow.
Trudy said I could take some holiday time, so I might stay a while
longer. I’ve given up smoking,” I added. I thought she’d be pleased
at this. Smoking had always been on the unsuitable list in ‘Mum’s
Book of Ladylike Behaviours’ but she made no comment. Instead, she
was silent.

“
Are you sure everything’s
alright?”

“
Yes Mum.”

“
Ben’s rung every day this
week. He wants to know where you are.” The tone of her voice didn’t
waver. It was merely another avenue of conversation. An image of
years past, after the disastrous Melbourne trip, came to mind. The
way she had run the gauntlet for me was nothing short of amazing. I
hoped she’d done the same again.

“
You didn’t tell him, did
you?”

“
Of course not. I’m not
completely out of touch, no matter what you might
think.”

“
I didn’t mean
that.”

She sighed. “I know. But I
thought if you wanted him to know where you are you’d have told
him. Have you had another fight?”

“
No. I need some time to
think. I can’t concentrate when he’s around. He makes my mind
fuzzy.”

I heard the soft tinkle of
her laugh. “Your father used to do that to me. He swept me off my
feet.”

I was astounded. Mum never
spoke about her relationship with Dad. I didn’t know anything about
how they’d met or married. It was like some personal thing, no
emotion, never to be spoken about.

“
Did you love him a lot?” I
asked.

“
Yes. He was very handsome
and quite dashing. A little like your Ben really. I still love him.
He’s a wonderful man.” Wonders would never cease. I’d been under
the impression for my entire life that Mum only tolerated Dad. That
she stayed with him because it was expected and that they’d
developed a sort of cohabitation where they got along just fine, as
long as she got her way. I never thought she loved him. Displays of
affection were as rare as junk food in our family.

“
Please don’t say anything
when Ben rings. I’ll give him a call when I’m ready.”

“
I won’t. But don’t wait
too long. He sounds like his patience is wearing thin.”

I didn’t call. I
couldn’t.

***

The afternoon was cold and
blustery but I took my beanie and rain jacket, deciding to go for a
walk along the beach. Wrapped up against the chill of the sea
breeze and looking like a beached whale in my layers of clothing, I
set off along the sand. The waves were pounding the shore, their
angry white caps foaming as they crashed. The sky was heavy with
clouds and the seagulls were looking flustered as they flew in
circles searching for shelter, a gaggle of screeching white dots
against the moody sky. A storm was brewing.

I started walking towards
the lighthouse, glad to be in the fresh air and feeling somewhat
like my old self again. The morning sickness was waning, and the
symptoms of my illness were lessening though I was still tired.
Outwardly, there was no real clue to the pregnancy but my stomach,
though still flat, felt different somehow. It was weird to think
there was a tiny person growing in there. A little human being that
Ben and I had made together with our love.

I’d been wandering along the
sand for about twenty minutes, give or take a few, my earphones on
and my walkman turned up to the max playing a copy of that Blondie
album Ben and I had loved years before. It was one of my
favourites, the songs timeless and so evocative of that period in
my life. The time when the most I had to worry about was if I could
have that new skirt, or what we were going to do on a Saturday
night. It seemed like an age ago. Now I had far more pressing
issues on my mind.

Debbie Harry began to croon,
‘In the Flesh’ and I thought of Ben. Did he wonder why I’d
disappeared into the night, like a Vegas magician doing a vanishing
act? In the back of mind, that voice reminded me that he’d said
he’d never leave, that nothing could be so bad that would keep us
apart again. But that was before. Before I'd become a one-woman
disaster zone. A silent tear rolled down my cheek. How could I ever
tell him that I wasn’t the angel he thought me to be? I was used
and broken. There were so many other nice girls in the world and he
could take his pick. They all loved him. Without a sound, I dropped
to the sand and wept, crying for what might have been if I’d been
more sensible when I was younger, if I’d only listened.

After a while, I sat up and
looked around. The sky had grown darker, almost charcoal, and the
clouds were threatening to burst. I stood up and brushed myself
down, wiping the sand from my knees and legs, ready to head back
along the beach. I walked to where the ocean was sending its salty
spray over the rocks, its brackish scent filling the air. The kelp
swirled and coiled beneath the water, like a maiden’s hair in the
wind. It would’ve been so easy, so final, to throw myself in and
drown, captured in the tendrils of seaweed, but I didn’t. Somehow I
had to get through it, like I had every other time. As I looked
along the beach, I saw a slim figure walking towards me. It was
only speck, a tiny dot in the distance but I knew it was him. He’d
found me.

By the time Ben reached me,
the heavens had opened, sending torrents of rain onto the sand. I
was crying but he couldn’t tell, the rain was the perfect foil for
my tears.

“
Go away.”

“
No.”

I started to walk past him
but he seized my elbow.

“
What the fuck are you
playing at?” he screamed, over the crashing of the waves. “Do I
mean so little to you, that you would up and leave without a
word?”

My heart twisted. Of course
not. I loved him too much to ever leave but I couldn’t stay. “I
needed to be alone.”

He grabbed my shoulders.
“Why? What’s going on? I thought you were dead.”

“
I may as well
be.”

His face was
quizzical.

“
Get out, now, Ben. Find
another girl to love, one who deserves you.”

“
Is this about the drugs?
You know I don’t care.” He pulled me to him and tried to kiss me
but I couldn’t let him. I pushed him away.

“
Stop. Don’t touch me. You
can’t touch me ever again.”

He crushed me tighter as I
pummelled his chest, trying to escape. “Why?”

“
Just go away, I don’t want
you anymore.”

“
No,” he screamed, shaking
me. “Not until you tell me what’s going on.”

“
I have Hep B. It’s
contagious and I’ve probably given it to you. There. Satisfied?” I
looked at the foam creeping onto my shoes. The tide was starting to
turn and the waves were washing around our ankles, soaking our
already wet clothes even more. I didn’t move. What did it matter?
Ben was going to leave me.

His arms fell to his side.
“How?”

“
When I was at Uni. The guy
I was seeing was a heroin user; he was infected. He came to see me
a few weeks ago. He has HIV.”

“
Did you shoot up with
him?”

“
No, but there’s lots of
ways to contract Hep B. I was no angel.” This was it. I was driving
him away for eternity.

His golden skin became
transparent, devoid of colour. “Do you have HIV?”

“
No.”

“
Do you have
AIDS?”

“
No.”

“
You’re not going to die?”
The furrow on his brow smoothed and his shoulders relaxed. He
stepped towards me, his chest close to mine.

“
Not from Hep B but maybe
from liver disease or the sudden change of lifestyle. I had to give
up drinking and smoking for good.”

“
There’s nothing wrong with
that.” He took my hand in his.

“
I’m sick Ben, I could be
sick for the rest of my life. I used drugs, I drank until I
couldn’t stand and vomited on my own clothes. I treated my friends
like shit. I slept around, I did the most disgusting things. I’ve
probably ruined your life too. How could you want me after
that?”

He kissed my forehead. “I
told you. Nothing will ever tear us apart. I don’t care about the
past, I only want you.”

“
But…”

“
No buts.”

The rain had stopped and we
began to walk up the sand towards the cottage. There was a but, I
thought, and in about six or seven months it would be a very large
one.

“
I’m pregnant.”

He stopped in the sand, his
mouth open to speak.

“
Before you say anything I
want you to know that I won’t be mad at you if you want to
go.”

“
You’re having our
baby?”

“
Yes.”

“
Oh, Bella,” he laughed,
grabbing me and swinging me in the sand until I fell with his body
covering mine. I was confused. Ben had said only weeks before that
children weren’t on his list for a very long time. Why wasn’t he
running for dear life?

“
You’re not mad?” I asked
as he nipped at my lips, making me feel more alive than I had in
weeks.

“
No. A baby…A baby that
we’ve made together.” Lovingly he placed his hand on my stomach.
His lips lay against mine. “Can you feel it?”

I curled my arms around his
neck and snuggled against him. The wet sand underneath my back
didn’t register. “Not yet, in a few weeks, maybe. I thought you
didn’t want children.”