River of Lies (10 page)

I hadn’t realised that I had fallen asleep, until the voices in the hallway woke me. I stumbled out of bed, and poked my head out of the door. I instantly recognised Dylan’s mum, standing in the hallway. Dad had his arms around her as she sobbed. I walked down the hallway, and when Sandra looked up from my Dad’s shoulder, her cries became loud hiccupping sobs.  She opened her arms and embraced me. I could see that Tilly’s door was still closed tight. Sandra’s tears wet my cheeks.

“Oh Mon, baby girl, I don’t understand what’s happened” she cried into my neck.

I didn’t understand it either. And I didn’t understand why she was here comforting me and not Tilly, or why Tilly hadn’t even come out of her room.  I stood in the hallway holding Sandra, her tears mingled with mine, until my legs became sore and my pyjama top was soaked. I let go of her and took her hand, and lead her silently into the lounge room.  Dad followed us in from the kitchen, and set down cups of tea on the coffee table.  We sat on the couch, and held hands; we gained comfort and strength just from being together.  It felt like Sandra needed me as much as I needed her at that moment. After a while the tears subsided, as we sipped our cups of tea.

“Dylan told me, he told me about” she reached over and patted my stomach; her eyes glazing over and threatened to well up again.

I was shocked, I didn’t realise that he had said anything, he never told me. She sat her hand on my stomach, as if gaining strength from the baby growing inside, Dylan’s baby growing inside. She smiled, and gazed off into the vacant space in front of her.

“He was excited” she said “I hadn’t seen him so happy in such a long time”

Sandra looked back at me; I smiled at her, and put my hand on top of hers.

“He’s not gone forever” she sniffed, as tears began to flow down her face again.

We sat on the couch until the sun was high in the sky, Dad brought cup after cup of tea for us to drink, and Tilly’s door remained shut tight.  Suddenly Sandra jumped as if shocked by a bolt of electricity.

“I’ve got to go, I have to meet the, I’ve got to go” she said, and gave my hand another squeeze as she stood up.

“Mon, you’re coming to the funeral aren’t you?” she asked.

I smiled and nodded, I gave her hand a squeeze.  She wrapped her arms around my shoulders and kissed my cheek.  As we reached the front door, she turned and grabbed for my hand again. Before she turned away down the drive way and climbed into her car, and drove off up the road. I was exhausted, but I couldn’t sleep.

As I lay down, my head buried into my pillow, I could still get the slight scent of Dylan there, the smell of his body, I groaned as the pain that filled my heart took me into a sleep. I didn’t know whether it had been a dream or if Dylan had been right there next to me. But I was sure that I had heard him say my name, I’m sure that I had felt him touch my cheek and smooth my hair as he so often did.  I wanted it to bring comfort, but it just made me long for him to be by my side even more. I didn’t know how much I could possibly bear. I didn’t know how to face the world without him in my life. And the tears, the tears that just wouldn’t stop flowing, for the rest of the day I drifted in and out of sleep, when I was awake I cried. The next morning, when I got out of bed, I looked at my face in the mirror, puffy and red.

The knock on the door was light and gave me fright. I turned to see my Dad standing in the door way. His face was full of concern.

“Dad? What’s wrong?” I asked I couldn’t take any more bad news.

He cleared his throat, as he came and sat down on my bed.

“I’ve just spoken with Sandra.  The coroner has done an initial investigation on Dylan.” I nodded, not able to wipe the frown off my face.  “He didn’t drown Mon”

I shook my head; I couldn’t comprehend what Dad was telling me, it wasn’t making sense. If Dylan didn’t drown, I didn’t even want to finish that thought. Dad draped his arm across my shoulders and pulled me close to him.

“The coroner found that he was hit in the head”

“Could he have slipped and fallen?” I asked.

Dad shook his head.

“The coroner is pretty certain that he was hit in the head with something”

I clenched my hands into fists, as anger began to rise. I tried to stay calm for the baby’s sake, but I felt nothing but white hot rage.  I couldn’t understand why Michael or Shelly would kill him; he hadn’t done anything to them. He wasn’t a junkie like them. He was one of the good guys. Dad and I sat on my bed in silence, as I seethed.  I hadn’t even given a thought to Tilly; I didn’t care about her or her feelings.

“So what happens now?” I asked.

Dad explained that Michael and Shelly had been arrested and were at the police station being questioned. He told me that the funeral couldn’t be held until the coroner had finished his investigation. I sat and listened and tried to imagine what happened that day, I tried to think what Dylan was thinking when they were bashing his head in, but it was just too painful.

Suddenly a sharp pain ripped through my stomach, I doubled over, and clutched my stomach, I groaned in agony, the pain spread from my stomach and into my lower back.  Dad held onto me, concern all over his face.  As I fell onto the floor to my knees, curled over in agony, I watched Dad run to the phone in the hallway and hear him asking for an ambulance.

Within minutes two ambulance men were standing in my bedroom, helping me off the floor and onto the bed.  They were asking Dad a variety of questions, about my medical history and allergies, but he couldn’t answer any of them. Through grit teeth I was able to answer all their questions.  They put a blood pressure cuff on me and oxygen, helping me up onto a trolley, before leading me out into the back of the ambulance. As I passed Tilly’s bedroom door, I noticed it still locked tight; I squeezed my eyes tight, as the pain gripped my body.

Dad held my hand in the back of the ambulance the whole way, while the ambulance men asked me to rate my pain from a scale of one to ten. They continued to check my pulse and blood pressure all the way to hospital.  As they wheeled me through the door, a nurse was there waiting to greet us.  She smiled at me kindly.

“In cubicle six please” she said.

The ambulance drivers pushed me into the cubicle and helped me to move onto the bed. One of the ambulance drivers turned to the nurse who was standing next to me, connecting me up with heart monitors and blood pressure cuffs.

“This is Mon, she is 16 years old and she is approximately twelve weeks pregnant. Her Dad, Shane, called the ambulance when she collapsed onto the floor of her bedroom in pain throughout her abdomen and lower back. There was no noticed bleeding, her blood pressure was stable and her pain at the moment is sitting at a seven” the ambulance driver said.

“Thank you” the nurse said. “Hi Mon, I’m Stella and I’m going to be your nurse for today. Have you got a doctor you have been seeing for the pregnancy?”

I shook my head, I hadn’t even thought about seeing a doctor.

“That’s ok, Dad, can I get you to step out there just a for a minute while I have a little look downstairs to see what is going on”

Dad nodded and moved out the curtain, he rubbed his hand on his head as he pulled the curtain closed behind him. The nurse then asked me to take my pyjama bottoms off and put my feet together, dropping my knees apart.  She explained that she was going to feel inside me to make sure everything felt normal there.

I lay on the bed, while she felt inside me, she pushed down onto my stomach at the same time, and I cried out in pain.

“Mon?” I heard Dad call out from behind the curtain.

“She’s ok, it’s just a bit painful, I’m nearly done” the nurse called back.

She took her fingers out and looked at them; I could see some blood on her fingers, as she took her gloves off and started to make notes in the folder on the bench next to my head.  She pulled up the blanket over my legs up to my chest.

“Just leave your pants off for now, because the doctor is going to want to do the same as I just did ok?” she said with a pat on my leg. “The doctor will come in soon, but everything felt ok to me, but we will know more after he has done some checking alright?”

I nodded as she opened the curtain and waved my Dad back into the small cubicle.  He came to stand next to me, and held my hand as he kissed my forehead. I lay back on the pillow, and closed my eyes tight, praying that if there was a God, that he would give me a break.

We sat there for what felt like hours, when finally the doctor came in; he was an old grey haired man, who wore his glasses down on his nose, he looked over the top of them to talk to me. He didn’t say anything when he first came in, instead just walked over to the little folder, he skimmed over what had been said. Then he turned to my Dad smiled, and then turned to me.

“Well hello” he said with a grandfatherly smile that instantly put me at ease. “What seems to have happened to you hey?”

Dad explained to the doctor what had happened that morning.

“Have you had extra stress, other than of course the obvious of being pregnant?”

I sighed, not sure where to start.

“The father of the baby died a few days ago” Dad said.  The doctor turned to look at him over the top of his glasses.

“Yes well that certainly won’t help, I’m sorry that happened” he said with a pat of my leg. “Now I have to have a little feel there to see what is going on, and then I’m going to do what’s called an ultrasound, to have a look to make sure bub’s is ok”

The doctor pointed to the curtain, and guided my dad out as he closed the curtain behind him. He lifted the blanket and told me to open my legs again, we went through the same procedure that the nurse had previously.  This time it didn’t hurt quite as badly.

“Hmm yes ok, everything feels like it’s intact” he said as he peered down at me with a smile. As he pulled the blanket back down over my legs and took the gloves off, he smiled at me.

“Let’s get the ultrasound in here, and we will have a little look, shall we?” he said as he opened the curtain, and waved my Dad back into the room.

It wasn’t very long before he wheeled back in a machine with a screen on it and hooked it up to the power he shifted my dad into the corner of the room, with some irritation.

“Now let’s have a little look at what this baby is doing shall we?”

My Dad stood to leave, but the doctor waved for him to sit back down, and told him that he could stay for this.

As he put the rod onto my stomach, the gel felt cold and it was quite uncomfortable as he pushed in hard into my belly, I watched the screen, seeing black and white shadows.

“Ah there we go, here is bub” the doctor said, pointing at the screen.

I could make out the tiniest of blobs in the centre; it didn’t look like a baby.

“And here is bubs heart, see that flashing bit” he said pointing at the screen. I smiled as I saw the heart beating, and watched it flash black and white on the screen.

“Looks very healthy and I would say by the size of the baby you are fourteen weeks pregnant, not quite big enough for me to tell what you are having, but I can tell you that baby is very healthy and happy in there”

I heard my Dad sigh with relief.  He reached over and squeezed my ankle I looked at him and smiled, a genuine smile. It was the best news I had be given since Dylan died.  The doctor started to pack away the ultrasound machine, and wiped the excess gel off my belly with a baby towel.

“Well young lady, I would say the pain you felt, was your body’s way of saying stop stressing.  Which is a little hard, with what is going on in your life at the moment, but I think I can say that the father of this baby would like you to care for his little one properly” the doctor said as he pat my shoulder, and gave it a little squeeze.

I smiled and agreed that I would take care of the baby. I would take care of Dylan’s baby.

Chapter Twelve.

We finally got home in the late afternoon.  My heart was still broken, but I had a small ray of hope, and as I looked down at the little square shiny black and white picture with the blob in centre, I smiled, my baby, Dylan’s baby that was my ray of hope that would keep me going.  The doctor had given me a referral letter for the prenatal services and the nurse gave me a fistful of pamphlets about having a baby.

When we got home, Tilly was seated in the lounge room, the bong between her legs.  She looked up with blood shot eyes.  Dad flew into the room, and knocked the bong from her hands the slap on Tilly’s face resounded throughout the room.

“Dad” I screamed.

Dad was an angry man, I knew that, but he had never slapped either of us before.  Tilly held her face and I could see the red mark that had already started to form on her cheek under her hand. Dad with clenched fists and stormed out into the kitchen, I heard the back door slam.  I stood there and stared at Tilly, as she just rocked back and forth her hand on her cheek.  I went and picked the bong up from off the floor, and took it out the back door. I could see Dad standing next to the shed, punching the wall, tears streamed down his face, his teeth beared, his knuckles shattered with every punch.  I quickly put the bong in the bin, and ran to his side.  I grabbed Dad’s arms, and pulled him away from the shed, he moved away easily, and fell to his knees on the grass.  I knelt down beside him and held him, as he cried. He sat up and wiped his eyes with the back of his hand, and as he looked at me he smoothed my hair.

“I’ve got to make this right Mon, I’ve got to make up for everything that I did to you and Tilly” he said.

I shook my head, he didn’t have to do anything, he had been a terrible father, that was true, he had brought drugs and death into our lives, but these were in the past, if I had learnt nothing over my sixteen years, it was that I had to keep dreaming for a better future or the past would consume and eat me up.

“We will make it Dad. It will get better” I heard Dylan’s voice telling me everything was going to be ok as I hugged my dad there in the back yard on the browning grass, blood covered his fingers and hand, the skin torn and broken.

The days went by like a blip in time. After about three weeks, the coroner had released Dylan’s body for burial.  Michael had been charged with murder and Shelly with conspiracy to murder. The magistrate was holding Michael in custody until the trial, but Shelly was allowed to go home.  We didn’t see her, but I didn’t want to see her. They still hadn’t admitted that they killed him; they said that he slipped and fell, but the police said that they had more than enough evidence to charge them.  I just wanted them to admit what they had done; it wasn’t that I wanted them to tell the truth necessarily as much as I wanted them to tell me why. It was the question that Sandra kept asking me, why? I didn’t know; I couldn’t comprehend how someone could take a rock and bash another person’s skull in.  It broke my heart to even think about it, so I tried to focus on my time spent with Dylan, the days in the back of the van, him sneaking into my room, and the baby he had given me.

I couldn’t tell who was more excited, my Dad or Sandra. Dad had told Tilly that I was pregnant, but he omitted the fact that the baby was Dylan’s.  He told me that she didn’t need to know that, so we agreed to keep it quiet. Sandra agreed that it was for the best, we decided we would cross that bridge when the baby was born. Not that it seemed to matter; Tilly became more and more distant from us all with every day that passed.  She spent more time with Chantelle, and took more drugs. When she was home one night, I noticed, the all too familiar needle mark in the crook of her elbow.  I didn’t tell Dad, I didn’t want to upset him.

The night before the funeral, Sandra had organised with the funeral home, to have a viewing. It was an opportunity for everyone that was close to Dylan to come and say their final goodbyes.  I was scared, the last dead body I had seen, was that of my mother, and I wasn’t sure I was ready to see the man I loved, cold and lifeless. 

Dad drove me over to the funeral home.  It was a sterile looking brown brick building, with darkened windows. As we walked in the front doors, the smell of perfumed cleaners hit my nose, almost overpowering me. I looked around the room; the carpet was a dark red; plastic flowers donned the hall and made the room look more depressing. A small wiry man came out of the room with a sombre smile and a small meek voice he greeted Dad. He shook my hand with a limp wet hand shake. Dad explained who we were, and the small man led us into a smaller room.

I saw Sandra standing by a coffin at the front of the room; she stood motionless, she stared down at Dylan’s lifeless body. I looked around, and saw cakes and sandwiches on a table. I remember thinking who could possibly eat while looking at a dead body. Sandra looked up at us as we walked through the doors, and gave us a small smile. She looked tired and withered; this situation had taken such a toll on her. I could see through her eyes, just how much her heart was breaking. Although I wanted to walk to her and comfort her, I couldn’t get my feet to move, it was like I was being magnetically held to the spot.  Dad dropped my hand, and went to Sandra, and wrapped her up in his arms. Dylan’s father had left when just after his sister Jessica was born, so she had to wear the brunt of this all on her own.

She stood there with loud sobs into my Dad’s neck.  I stared at the coffin next to them.  From where I stood I couldn’t see Dylan, my heart was racing; I touched my belly, and summoned up all the strength that I had. Dylan’s twelve year old sister, Jessica, sat on the floor cross legged at the foot of the coffin. Tears ran down her face while she held a picture of Dylan and her.  I looked around the room, in the corner there were a couple of men that I didn’t recognise, I saw some of his friends that he had gone to school with.  I looked for Tilly but she wasn’t anywhere there, I sighed with relief when I didn’t see Shelly either.

I managed to put one foot in front of the other as I approached the coffin. I sucked a hard breath in as I caught my first glimpse of Dylan.  Grief hit me like a tsunami.  A guttural groan escaped my lips, as there he lay, perfectly beautiful, his eyes closed, and his long dark eye lashes brushing against his cheeks. His lips slightly turned up at the edges as if he was in the most peaceful of sleeps. The groan had turned into sobs which soon turned into a scream, which continued to come in waves.  I felt Dad’s arms holding mine.  I reached out and ran my fingers across Dylan’s lips. They were soft under my touch, but cold all the same. My voice soon became husky and the screams subsided to a sob that shook my whole body. I could feel everyone in the room staring at me, their eyes boring into my head, but I didn’t care. The grief I felt was so overwhelming.

I stood there for a long time, touching Dylan’s face, his hair, and holding his hands.  I studied every part of his face, to try and find something that would tell me that it wasn’t Dylan lying there, but some person that just looked like him.  However, there was nothing, nothing to put any doubt in my mind it was anyone but him. I heard Sandra talking with the small wiry man behind me.  He was telling her that we had to leave, as he had to prepare for the funeral the next day. I leant into the coffin, and kissed Dylan’s lips.

“I love you” I whispered.

I waited for his response, and hoped to even see a flicker of his eye lids, I hoped that it was all just some sick joke, and if he woke up shouting Boo, I wouldn’t even be angry at him. I pleaded silently for him to wake up. But the stillness in the room, the silence, it was deafening.

Dad put his arm around my shoulders, and held me close. I watched as Sandra with sobs leant in to kiss her son, Jessica stood up from her place on the floor, going over to Dylan, I watched as she touched his face, and slid the picture under his hands.  Dylan’s friends came over and touched his shoulder, shaking Sandra’s hand as they walked past. One of them touched Jessica on the chin and leant down, giving her cheek a kiss. She smiled up at him as he walked away. I turned to see that the room was empty. Sandra came and stood next to Dad, and with his other arm, he reached up and put it around her shoulder.  Jessica stood next to me, wrapping her arms around my belly, and leaning her head onto my chest. We stood there, all looking down at Dylan, our hearts shattered into millions of pieces.

“I’m sorry I don’t mean to hurry you, but I have to shut the room off now” we all jumped as the little meek man spoke behind us. We turned to see him holding a large wreath in his hands.

“Yes, sorry, we are going” Dad said, and began to lead us out the doors.

None of us were ready to go home, none of us wanted to be alone with our thoughts and feelings. Sandra suggested we go and find a McDonalds that was open. When we pulled into the McDonalds, we went inside and ordered some burgers. We sat at the table until the staff finally had to come and tell us we needed to leave. We talked and remembered all the funny stories we could about Dylan.  Sandra told us what he was like as a baby. It was the first time we had laughed for what felt like forever. As we left and walked back to the cars, none of us wanted to face what tomorrow was going to bring. Sandra reached out and touched my belly, which had started to slightly protrude.