Page 15 of Prognosis Do Over

I’m over you, damn it.

‘It was five months ago. Jan and Martin were holidaying in the Northern Territory, where friends of theirs have ten thousand acres. They took them up in one of the property’s light planes to get a bird’s eye view, and there were some engine difficulties. It crashed about twenty minutes into the flight. It exploded on impact. All four passengers were killed.’

Will suppressed the urge to say something inane —useless phrases such as at least they didn’t suffer. Words were so trite in such tragic circumstances, and nothing anyone could say would take away the fact that two really nice people had met a grisly end, well before their time.

‘I’m so sorry, Lou. That’s just not fair, is it?’

She shook her head and blinked back the moisture in her eyes. ‘No,’ she agreed, ‘it isn’t. And they were so happy too. They were over the moon about finally having a baby.’

Lou could only hope in those last few terrifying seconds that Jan and Martin had known she’d love their baby like her own.

‘Are they in heaven?’ Candy asked, breaking into Lou’s thoughts.

Lou hesitated. Typical kid question. She might as well have asked her for the quantum physics theory. Years of nursing hadn’t left her with much faith, and her sister being killed had destroyed the rest.

‘I’m sure wherever they are now they’re watching over us,’ said Will.

Lou smiled gratefully at him. She hoped so, she really did as she placed her hand on her swollen stomach. She hadn’t been sure about accepting his invitation today to come and see Candy but she was glad she had.

The conversation moved on to other topics, and Lou found herself relaxing and enjoying the afternoon, just like old times. Hearing Will’s deep chuckle and Candy’s high, sweet giggle, it was as if nothing had ever changed. She was where she’d always wanted to be — a part of Will’s life.

‘Daddy said you’re shaving all your hair off,’ said Candy.

Lou smiled. Even at eight, Candice sounded more outraged than anyone so far. ‘Almost all, sweetie. But don’t worry. It’ll grow back.’

‘But it’s so beautiful,’ said Candy. ‘Won’t you please at least think about it?’ The little girl had such a melodramatic look of pleading and lament it was hard to keep a straight face.

‘Nope. My mind’s made up,’ she said, staring defiantly at Will, who she suspected might have had something to do with this line of conversation. ‘Besides, it’s about time. Long hair and a baby don’t mix. Look at how many times you used to grab hold and pull, young madam,’ she teased, looking back at Candice.

Candy giggled. ‘I remember going to sleep all curled up in your lap and twirling my finger in it,’ she said wistfully.

Lou smiled, remembering those times too. Holding a younger Candy in her arms, looking down into her sweet baby doll face as she wrapped a lock of hair around one finger and sucked her thumb as she went to sleep. She remembered the soap and powder smell of Candy’s skin, and the way her little bow mouth pouted prettily in sleep. She remembered how full of love for Will’s child her heart had been.

She roused herself from memory lane. ‘Anyway, your dad’s getting his done too. Did he tell you that?’

‘Coloured,’ Will corrected. ‘I think I’ll just go for getting it sprayed red.’

Lou looked from Will to Candy and then back again. ‘Chicken,’ she laughed, and flapped her arms and made a clucking noise. Candy laughed and joined in.

‘Cluck all you want,’ he teased. ‘I’d rather be red than bald.’

‘Nearly bald,’ Lou corrected, still laughing.

The phone rang, interrupting their hilarity, and Lou was grateful when Will excused himself. Her heart ached at the perfectness of the day, because it wasn’t real. Shortly she’d get in her car and drive back to her apartment, go back to her life without Will or Candy.

She’d had a glimpse again today of how great it could be, which only made it harder. There was too much water under the bridge, and she mustn’t be distracted by perfect days such as these.

She had Jan’s baby to think about, and he had Candy. They both had to concentrate on being parents: there wasn’t time for each other and the demands of starting over.

‘You want to see my new computer?’ Candy asked.

‘Sure,’ said Lou, shuffling out of the chair and taking Candy’s outstretched hand.

‘Mummy got it for me,’ the little girl said, leading the way into her fairy wonderland bedroom. Lou’s hand lingered on the doorjamb. She had helped Will paint the room, and had taken Candy to choose the curtains and bedspread. ‘Isn’t it cool?’ Candy asked.

Lou saw the excited sparkle in her eyes. ‘Way cool.’ She nodded, admiring the slick piece of machinery on the yellow desk on which she had lovingly stenciled a swirly border.

‘Dad has it hooked up to broadband, and Mum and I talk to each other on Zoom a few nights a week.’

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