The Woman Before Me (32 page)

As I watched Joel I knew that at that moment, in that instance, my poorly, vulnerable son was loved as much as he ever could be. He was dependant on me in a way he never would be again. It was a moment of perfect love, of total devotion. If you had the choice, wouldn’t you end your life at a point when you were loved so totally, so truly, that it could not be surpassed? Wouldn’t it be the most perfect moment to die?

What a gift I gave my precious boy, he wouldn’t suffer anymore. My hand went into the incubator and found his soft flesh, his bones visible under the thin skin. I stroked him, he opened his eyes and saw me, he knew. No pain, no tears, no grief.

And you, Jason.

I placed my palm, larger than his face, over his mouth and nose and cupped his delicate features. Snuffed out, like a candle. So quickly, so peacefully. When I started to cry and yell the nurse ran from where she had been chatting in the corridor. She pushed me aside and I started to shake.
This would teach you
, I thought.
This is your fault
.

The nurses shouted, the doctors ran, and in the chaos my little boy was punctured with needles and pressed hard on the chest, his tiny face covered with a mask.

I walked out of the room. I wanted to remember his stillness, not their futile attempts at resuscitation.

It was hard afterwards, and I never stopped hating you for what you made me do, even when I had no choice but to love you. Then came the doubt. Those were the bad days.

When I saw Luke, I thought he could save me. A chance to love your son, to heal the pain I felt.

I killed Joel to hurt you. Just for one moment to be in control, for you to be the one who had a broken heart.

That’s why I had to serve the sentence for your crime.

Cate heard a wailing noise coming from outside and looked out of the cell window to the courtyard where Rose was being led to the medical centre flanked by Mark and Officer Todd. She was bent double like a newly bereaved mother, finally giving in to her grief and guilt. Locked up for four years already and two more to come, for a crime she hadn’t committed and forever haunted by the crime she had.

Cate closed the book. As she took a step something snapped under her foot and, bending down, she saw it was a tiny birds nest, crushed on the floor. She gently collected the twigs together, holding it in the palm of her hands, realising that this was what Rose had been holding.

She pushed the twigs carefully back into place, restoring its perfect symmetry. A home once again.