The Bay (21 page)

‘And is Mr Old and Rich going to be her new daddy on the Gold Coast?' Tina was shocked at how much she needed to know about Eddie's private life. So unlike her, but she couldn't help herself.

‘Laura is probably hoping so . . . rustic and un-rich isn't her style. Not that I was a total disaster when we came here,' he quickly added. He didn't want Tina to think he was a loser. ‘I still have big plans. But I'm concerned about Alice. She doesn't want to move away, so she might end up staying with me at the farm. Part of the time anyway.'

‘That's a big responsibility for you. What about your work?'

‘I'm working for myself at present. If it wasn't for Alice I might rush overseas, but if you're going to be a single parent, The Bay is a good place to live.'

‘Yes. There's a lot of generous people there. Generous with time and care, I mean. Let's hope everyone can rally around Bonnie. She'll need it. Here we are.'

As they headed into Brisbane Eddie suddenly said, ‘Oh my God, I haven't rung Amber back. I wonder if Kimberley has. Amber is close to Bonnie. They have some bond, something between them.'

‘It's late. Call her when we have some more news,' said Tina. ‘We'll be at the hospital in ten minutes or so.'

Eddie looked at her profile in the city lights and thought again what a practical person she was. And he thanked his lucky stars she had been there, for many reasons. But all he said was, ‘I'm glad you're driving. I don't know my way around Brisbane.'

A security guard checked at the reception desk and then directed them to the intensive care unit.

Hospitals are particularly depressing late at night, Tina thought. Silent hallways, occasional echoing footsteps, a phone ringing. Darkened doorways where patients tried to sleep through their pain. Tired nurses doing paperwork and lonely rounds. The atmosphere in the intensive care unit was different. A sense of urgency, tension and switched-on professionalism dominated.

An older nurse came out of the ward and asked who they were. She spoke in a voice wearied by too many hours on duty, too much suffering, too little hope. ‘Mrs Bitternden is with her daughter. Is there no other family coming?'

‘The father is in Melbourne. I believe he's on his way,' said Eddie. ‘We're friends and felt we could help comfort Bonnie.'

‘She hasn't been doing very well. Seeing a patient with third degree burns to most of the body is a shock, of course.'

‘What's the prognosis, Sister?' asked Tina.

The ward sister studied Tina, recognising the rescue service uniform and decided this was a capable, no-nonsense young woman. ‘The doctor will be able to tell Mrs Bitternden more when he comes back.' Then she added in a kinder tone, ‘It's not very good. But she isn't in pain. When the burns are as bad as this all the nerve endings are burned so she's not feeling anything. In fact, she's quite lucid. But I'd suggest you get anyone close to the family to come in as soon as they can.' She hurried back into the special unit.

‘Oh, Christ. What does that mean?' asked Eddie shakily. ‘I mean, is she saying Erica could die?'

Bonnie came out of the ward and Eddie was shocked at the change in her in a few hours. Her skin had a ghostly pallor, her hair seemed sweaty and stringy but the anguish in her eyes stabbed at him. She was agitated, her voice high pitched. She rushed to Eddie and clung to him. ‘Tell them it's not her. That's not my daughter, it can't be. Dear God, Eddie, it's hideous. That's not beautiful Erica. What have they done with my daughter? What's happening?' She buried her face in her hands, her shoulders shaking.

A nurse took Bonnie by the elbow. Tina was quickly on the other side making soothing noises. They led her away leaving Eddie feeling helpless. He found himself gazing at a man dozing in the corner of the waiting room, and wondered how long he had been waiting, and why.

Tina came back a few minutes later. ‘Bonnie's been sedated slightly. She's pulling herself together. We can have a few quick words with Erica.'

‘I don't know that I'm up to that.'

Tina laid a hand on Eddie's arm. ‘I think, as we're here, we should. She knows you.' She hesitated then told him what she'd learned from the sister. ‘There might not be another opportunity. She's not going to make it, Eddie. Her body will collapse internally – the fluids, electrolytes – they're so out of balance.'

‘God, how long?'

‘Maybe only hours,' said Tina steadily.

‘Does she know? Does Bonnie know?'

‘I don't think so.'

But as Eddie stood by the bed trying to compose himself, he knew that Erica knew. She was barely recognisable. Most of her body was completely black, and she was covered in light dressings, with gauze wrapped around her head. Her eyes were strangely bright and in their depths there glowed something he couldn't quite understand. Her voice was soft and clear. ‘Was it you who came to the doof? Looking for me?'

He nodded. ‘With Amber. It was her idea. She was worried about you.' His voice sounded strange to his ears.

‘Ask Amber to look out for my mum. And Mac and all the others.'

Eddie nodded, his eyes filling with tears.

‘And give all my stuff to Matty.'

Again he nodded, feeling Tina move closer to him. Erica caught the slight movement. ‘You're the ranger at the lighthouse, aren't you?'

‘That's me. Tina. You go up there a lot, don't you? I remember you.' Tina now knew who the young girl was that she'd seen so often hanging over the railing watching the ocean, or sitting hugging her knees and gazing beyond the horizon, or strumming her guitar. Now the Little Lost Girl, as Tina dubbed her, was dying. At first she'd always been alone and Tina wondered why she had never come with her mother. Did they know they each went to the headland with its beacon to seek solace or perhaps answers? Then Erica had started coming with another girl. Tina smiled softly. ‘It's a pretty special place, huh?'

‘Yes.' Erica's eyes blinked for a moment, like an old turtle, Eddie thought.

‘Look out for me. From the lighthouse. I'm going to sail past there.' Her voice was weaker and Eddie thought she must be starting to lose touch with reality.

But Tina leaned closer. ‘We'll always have the light on for you, Erica. You won't get lost.'

‘I know that. It's all right now.'

‘That's long enough. Her mother wants to be with her.' The sister steered them away from the bed before it struck Eddie that they hadn't said goodbye. But then he couldn't bring himself to say the words.

‘Let's get a cup of tea.' Tina took his arm.

‘I could do with something stronger. Christ, this is terrible. What can we do?'

‘Very little. We'd better ring Kimberley and Amber. And who else?'

‘I don't know who else Bonnie knows in The Bay. The same group . . . Holly, Mac, Stolle and Lynn, Nola. Oh, and Billy. Their shops are both in the arcade, they seem to be friends.'

‘Mac is probably the best person to get to break the news around town. And we'd better call Cheyne. He's experienced in these situations,' added Tina.

‘So what exactly happened? How did it start? The fire?' Eddie asked. He hadn't wanted to get into the details on the drive up. But now there was no escaping the reality of what had happened.

‘To be confirmed, but it seems pretty sure it was candles,' Tina explained, ‘in Erica's room. Curtains went up. That's where the fire started. Not sure yet if it was accidental or not.'

Eddie had to get away from the hospital. ‘Let's go for a walk. It'll be dawn in a couple of hours.'

Mac tapped on Kimberley's window a short time after sunrise. ‘It's me, I didn't want to wake Matty.'

‘Come round the back. I'll make us coffee.' Kimberley was red-eyed. ‘Did Eddie ring you?'

‘No. But I know. I know,' said Mac sadly. ‘Have you told Matty?'

‘No. I'll let her sleep as long as possible. She'll find this so hard to deal with. Thanks for coming round. It would be good if you're here when I tell her.' While she might look a trifle eccentric, Mac's loving heart and comforting arms would help Matty. And me, thought Kimberley. As well as being a friend Mac had slipped into the role of surrogate mother and grandmother for Kimberley and Matty. ‘God, how is Bonnie going to survive this? I couldn't. If anything happened to Matty I'd die.'

‘No you wouldn't,' said Mac firmly. ‘You have to go on living. And that's what we have to help Bonnie do. But there's something more immediate. Erica's father might want to take over. We have to help Bonnie bring Erica back here. The funeral must be here, not Melbourne.'

Kimberley stared at her, wondering how she knew these things. She didn't question for a moment that Mac knew what Erica wanted.

Andrew paced along the edge of the sand dune where it began to level out and meet straggling marshland plants and pandanus trees. A small stream ran tea-stained brown from Tea-tree lake hidden further back in the wetlands. A large abandoned tin shed and bits of rusting equipment lay about a cracked cement slab near the remains of an overgrown railway track. He was counting to himself, measuring the distance with footsteps. He turned around and went to where Letitia was sitting on the sand studying a large set of plans.

‘It's looking good. Though this area is a mess, used to be the old abattoirs.' He gazed out to sea. ‘What a location. Bloody madness putting a meatworks next to one of the world's great beaches.'

‘I think it had something to do with shipping the cattle and meat down to Sydney and Melbourne.' She looked up from the plans and pointed further along Mighty Beach. ‘At low tide you can see the pylons of the old jetty.'

‘They'll have to go. Too dangerous for water sports.' He looked thoughtful. ‘You know, if they had a long wharf here in the old days, what's to say we couldn't put in a marina or some kind of aquatic centre?'

‘Are you joking? You haven't seen the Easter tides, and they still get cyclones along here. Come back in a couple of weeks.'

He dropped on the sand beside her and pulled her to him. ‘I might just do that. You don't get down to Sydney enough.'

‘I've had my hands full up here, or hadn't you noticed?'

‘You're doing brilliantly.'

‘Thanks. The next round might not be so easy.'

‘Leave the council to me,' said Andrew confidently.

‘Andy, when are you going to tell me the full story about this? If you're thinking of buying off the council, there are too many greenies in there. They'll go bananas.'

‘They're not the majority. Pressure can come from a lot of directions. Don't you worry your pretty little head, I have a plan.'

‘That's so sexist! I'm not your wife. Boy, I'm going to have to retrain you,' Letitia said with a patient grin.

Andrew fell back on the sand. ‘Oh, I like the sound of that. Do you use whips?'

Laughing, Letitia fell across him and he clutched her body to his. She pushed the plans to one side as their mouths locked. Neither noticed the beautiful brown dog prance past, closely followed by Mitchell.

He turned away, hurriedly going down the dune closer to the water. Why wasn't he surprised? He hadn't warmed to Andrew but he felt concerned for Holly. Did she know her husband was having it off with a young woman? He tried to tell himself it was none of his business. But there was more that bothered him. Andrew was a well-known architect; known for super luxurious five-star resorts in up-market parts of Asia. Letitia Sweetman was a solicitor specialising in commercial and real estate deals. The strip of land on which they were cavorting had attracted developers before, but none with the clout or the kind of backers Andrew Jamieson seemed to have. Holly had intimated that Andrew was more than a designer and consultant in the overseas developments, that he was often part of the consortium that built them. She had been vague, she obviously didn't follow Andrew's business dealings too closely.

Mitchell began to wonder about their presence in The Bay. He had made it clear to Holly that he was against monster developments, which was why he was so supportive of her plans for restoring Richmond House. So what was going on?

As the day passed into evening, Bonnie wished the moments could be decades. She sat beside the hospital bed holding the bandaged hand of her dying daughter. A blackened shadow of the baby she'd birthed and raised and believed would grow up to be so special. Why had God decided to take her back? Had she been such a bad mother? How was she to go on alone? She thought of the sea, the ocean her child loved so deeply. Erica had always wanted to sail single-handed over the horizon, and in her mind she was now going to embark on that voyage. But all Bonnie could feel was the increasing pain of loss, and she was drowning in that pain.

Sensing her mother's thoughts, Erica whispered, ‘It will be all right, Mum. Really. You must be strong for me.'

‘I can't bear this. I can't live without you, darling girl.' Bonnie could barely speak, her throat was so constricted. Never, even in her worst moments, had she ever imagined her child would die before her.

‘Mum, I'll be free and happy when I go. It's too hard for me here.'

Bonnie fumbled and fled outside, gasping, trying to breathe. She wanted to cry out that she'd always be her mother, and a good one, so please live. But all the plans she'd made at the Dolphin Centre were now cruelly shattered.

The arrival of Erica's father wasn't the traumatic and emotionally disturbing experience she'd expected. They'd clung to each other, linked by the love and bond of their child, and the reunion gave her strength. For a wild moment Bonnie imagined he might take her home to Melbourne, they would share this grief and have the closeness they'd never known when Erica was alive. But reality hit when she heard him on his mobile phone to his wife, seeking comfort, needing her, not Bonnie. Once again Bonnie felt abandoned. Only strangers had come to support her, and they would be the only ones there when it was all over.