In Jeopardy (9 page)

‘When did you ask dad what I can and can’t do?’ Lawrence directs his gaze at Paul. ‘Dad, do you have a problem with me studying bio-medicine or physio in Sydney or Melbourne?’

‘You can study here in Perth – this is your home. You don’t know anyone in Melbourne.’

‘I know Christine.’

Diana flushes red. ‘I don’t mean that – I mean younger people.’

Paul plays peacemaker. ‘I think it’s time this conversation ends.’

‘Not when it’s about my life.’ Lawrence turns to Christine. ‘Tell them that Melbourne universities are filled with overseas and interstate students.’

‘I guess, in the same way as Sydney, Perth and other capital cities.’

‘No more about interstate study. As you don’t qualify for government assistance we will have to foot the bill.’

Lawrence shoots his mother an angry look. He blurts out, ‘Christine tell them how much better Melbourne is than this dump.’

Diana returns an equally angry look and says, ‘And we don’t need to hear about your plans to delay your studies to work in a boatshed.’

Diana drives Lawrence and Natasha to school before taking Christine to the airport.

Lawrence says, ‘It a shame you can’t stay longer.’

Natasha adds, ‘Next time you can tell us more about Melbourne.’

‘Maybe we’ll just come visit you.’

Diana wades in. ‘Wait a minute guys, who said anything about interstate travel?’

Julian remains in Perth for another few more days before he returns to the east coast to assist a team of rookie journalists to wrap up their project.

The ward is a flurry of activity when Christine returns. Richard almost fades from her mind. Unseasonably warm Melbourne weather lingers and brings in a rush of casualties. Hoards of daredevil types, mostly young people living a comfortable existence, flood the Emergency Ward. Others susceptible to broken limbs are cashed up types – bankers and stock brokers securing six figure deals with clever talk and the stroke of a pen. They seem to overestimate their ability to engage in outdoor pursuits. They mistakenly believe any obstacle is simply mind over matter, and that self-belief and motivation can master anything.

Every day blends into night without Christine noticing. She takes on extra shifts, finishes exhausted and usually collapses into a lounge chair or bed when she returns to the apartment. It is easier for her to work extra shifts than organise colleagues reluctant to work longer hours to take on another shift. For a number of days she neglects to check her inbox. She eats, sleeps, reads newspaper headlines, flicks through trashy magazines and engages in small talk at the hospital.

She steps out of the treatment room where she has been part of a team giving a young man a blood transfusion. He presented at the hospital bruised and with superficial cuts to his face. He was barely conscious, resulting from a stab wound to the lower back. Her team monitor his blood pressure, the intravenous drip, heart and kidney function, as two puncture marks have missed his left kidney by millimetres.

Annie bails Christine up. ‘Your brother left two messages at the nurse’s station. Go and call him now. Don’t bother cleaning up first – it’s not like your brother will see you covered in blood.’

‘I have to attend to…’

‘I’ll cover for you. Where were you off to?’

‘There’s a patient in Casualty, he’ll be here any moment. He’s in for a blood transfusion and treatment in room 1011. Thanks Annie – I owe you.’

‘Off you go – let’s not turn this into a guilt session.’

When Christine picks up the phone she realises Julian could be anywhere. It seems so long since they spoke he may be calling from London.

He answers ahead of the second ring. ‘Hi Christine – don’t you check your emails?’

Julian promptly reminds her that she hasn’t checked her emails for some days. She wonders if some crisis is flashing in her inbox while she has been blissfully detached from her life. These days her social life is contained within the hospital’s walls. Friends and social contacts, mainly from Richard’s network, along with her renewed contact with family, have since been forgotten and amputated from her life. She is slow to recall that she last spoke to Julian the day after she returned from Perth; over a week ago.

‘I haven’t yet. Have I missed something?’

‘It’s my guess you’ve been all work and no play.’

‘Unfortunately the job has required one hundred and ten per cent of my time and energy over these last few days. Delays can be disastrous. Medical workers are required to restore patients back to health ahead of their own wellbeing.’

‘I am afraid for you; you could be on your way to some kind of burnout.’

‘What did you say?’

‘I thought I hammered home to you the perils of a twenty-four seven lifestyles. If you’re not careful your work will drag the last breath out of you.’

‘Thanks for your concern.’

‘Christine, I’m serious, there’s no humour here!’

Julian arrived in Melbourne a few days earlier. The project on the antipodes is complete. Most of the journalists assigned to the project have returned to the UK. A few like Julian have taken leave to extend their stay in Australia.

‘Diana and Lawrence have emailed. As you have not returned their emails they’re worried that you are either unwell or that their family drama offended you.’

He doesn’t need to tell her that he reassured Diana she had imagined the worst. They both know that Diana is a born worrier. He doesn’t need to remind her that their sister is flighty, given to hysterics and outbursts she seems to have no control over. Christine couldn’t help noticing that during their recent visit, beneath Diana’s pleasant and restrained manner, her face appeared tight and tense a number of times.

‘Are you free tonight? Can you meet me for dinner?’

‘I’m working until seven tonight.’

He books a restaurant that is walking distance from the hospital. He picks Christine up at the hospital foyer. They remain at the restaurant until late, unaware that the place has emptied. The manager stands and waits a short distance from their table until Julian looks up and locks eyes with him. He turns to Christine. ‘I hadn’t realised that we are the last patrons.’

The place has become cavernous. A number of lights have been switched off, candles extinguished, making the space shadowy. Christine imagines the dead rising from their graves to meet after midnight when the living and their noise have retreated. This is what they do. She has seen and heard them gather in abandoned recesses of the hospital alone, in pairs or in groups.

‘I didn’t mean to listen in.’

Julian looks at his watch. ‘It’s that time already!’

‘Sorry, we don’t offer room service.’ The manager assures them they need not rush. Yet they understand that despite the man’s polite manner, they are close to outstaying their welcome.

Julian leaves Christine with much to mull over. She sees that she is defined by her work and routines that keep her restricted to a life that is fast becoming claustrophobic. She is a crazed rat rushing through a nebulous maze, desperate to escape – to where?

Until Julian asked Christine how long she intends to remain in hospital residence she hadn’t considered this matter. Perhaps she would leave when the hospital finally threw her out or after the property settlement. Julian surmised that Christine’s work has become a distraction from the marriage breakdown, effectively masking the brutal treatment Richard subjected his sister to. He told her he admires her resilience but is concerned that her grief and obsession with her work will result in physical and metal exhaustion or nervous collapse.

She cannot image herself as a patient. She is a healer and must remain well. She doesn’t think about whether she likes or dislikes nursing. It is a vocation and since she has worked in this profession for almost fifteen years of service she assumes without question that an unseen hand has been involved. Her work has kept her absorbed and occupied. The speed at which the ward operates does not easily allow members of her profession the luxury of reflecting on job satisfaction.

Before she worked in Emergency she worked for Orthopaedics for almost a decade, where many of her patients had arrived at Emergency first. As both wards were often short staffed Christine was required to don doctor’s gloves, cut and stitch the injured. She worked alongside colleagues who struggled and complained about the demands that came with the job; many of them abandoning the hospital and medical profession. For Christine the hospital was a refuge from Richard’s darker moods and his frequent criticism of her failings.

She didn’t think that their relationship would end and it came as a shock when he demanded that she leave. She believed, or convinced herself, that despite Richard’s affairs she served a special place and purpose in his life. She anticipates there will be a showdown between them. Yet she desperately wants to salvage the relationship and pushes his cruel words and ultimatums from her mind.

It still doesn’t strike her when he hissed, ‘Stay out of my life, I’m not answerable to you, how dare you call me a liar. Who do you think you’re talking to Christine?’ that he meant what he said. These phrases became his mantra. In more lucid moments she suspects Richard had attacked her sanity, hoping she would fall apart, giving him the convenient excuse to end the relationship.

Of late he frequently said, ‘Christine, get a life instead of living through mine.’ She could still feel the sting of his cruel words, yet she accepted that he was right.

Julian tried to counter the negative messages that Richard had programmed her to believe. He tried to impress on his sister that she was the victim of an abusive relationship.

After sleeping off the day’s exhaustion she collects her emails. She reads Diana and Lawrence’s email messages inquiring about her welfare. It puzzles her for reasons she cannot explain that since Richard left her life her family has re-entered it. She dares not believe that this is a blessing that will last and that they are genuinely interested in her welfare.

Christine continues to work extra shifts, almost forgetting about the legal action she instigated until she receives further correspondence. Thornton informs her that Richard’s legal representative has responded to their demands. His email requests that she make an appointment to discuss their next move. She braces herself for strife and more complications, expecting that at some stage she will have to face Richard. In an ideal world she wouldn’t have to deal with the end of their relationship.

Thornton is heavily booked and she has to swap shifts with colleagues to attend a meeting and discuss matters she dreads. The lawyer is cheerful and gives her the impression he can conquer the world. He cracks the odd joke intended to lighten her mood. As this has no effect he says, ‘Christine you are a picture of misery. If you can bring yourself to smile, fortune might shine down on you.’

She returns a blank look as if she has only half-absorbed what he just said.

‘It surprises me that you haven’t contacted me earlier.’

‘Work has kept me busy. I’m sorry.’

‘No need to apologise. Don’t you want to know how the litigation process is going?’

Not really.
‘Not really.’

‘Aren’t you interested to know about my charges and the payment plans we offer?’

Again she returns a blank look, registering disinterest.

‘You haven’t pressed me for a current balance or estimation of a final figure. This is unlike most of my clients – their prime concern is about my charges.’

‘I didn’t know I was required to.’

‘As I said, you’re unlike most of my clients.’

Thornton explains he has gained an insight into Richard’s wealth held independent of Christine’s knowledge. He dismisses the figures Richard’s solicitor provided, believing them to be too low. ‘Your estranged husband’s lawyer has cooperated in providing bank account balances. I suspect substantial funds have been withdrawn from these. We may struggle to determine where the money has gone. Christine, I am asking for your permission to investigate this matter further. I can apply to the court to trace withdrawals over the past two years. Do you permit me to pursue this course of action, I certainly recommend it.’

He waits for her response and further questions. ‘I’m under your instructions.’

Richard had forbidden Christine to inquire further into their finances to the extent that she is unaware of his income. A few years ago he insisted that they operate separate bank accounts. He covered all household costs and underwrote their lifestyle. She was only required her to cover weekly household and personal expenses. He essentially fastened a lock over the cheque book. She didn’t object to this as she wanted to avoid another outburst and to protect herself from personal attack.

Since she reconnected with her brother he insisted on paying for all expenses when in his company. Richard treated her in the same manner in the early days of their relationship. Although she worked she was a kept woman, and now that Richard has abandoned her she is almost helpless.

Wanting the whole legal process to end she asks, ‘Is this matter worth pursuing if it means drawing out legal proceedings further than necessary?’

‘It would be foolish to ignore my advice. I’ve no doubt that Banks has hidden wealth.’

Thornton explains that he has been to her house, driven along the street and checked amenities and real estate prices. He tells her that the sworn valuation Richard’s solicitor provided is risible. ‘On the money you have been offered you cannot purchase a property in a reasonable suburb, yet your
estranged husband proposes that this diminutive sum will buy you out.’
If that wanker and his mealy mouthed bitch of a solicitor think that they can put one over me they can think again.

Although Richard hid much about his life from Christine he made no attempt to disguise the fact that his parents were very wealthy. He boasted about the numerous trust funds they held and often claimed I’ll be mega rich one day. This persistently reminded Christine that she lucked in when Richard married her and that if she had the temerity to leave she had no claim on this legacy. He almost certainly stands to gain a fortune that she has no claim to.