Page 46 of Wings Above the Mallee

Amelia’s heart lurched. All it took to make this poor girl feel valued was to not actively avoid her? She gestured at the textbook. ‘What is it you’re studying for?’ Her words came out thick and slurred, but she wanted to keep the focus on Charlee, let the young woman know that she was both seen and heard.

‘For?’ Charlee grunted. ‘That’s a great way to phrase it. What am I studyingfor. Honestly, just to keep my mind busy. Distracted. I’ve no idea what I’ll do.’ She tormented the bedspread until it seemed it would shred beneath her agitated fingers. ‘Just commerce. Used to want to do law, but now I realise that’s pointless.’ Charlee lifted her gaze.

The pain in her eyes almost stole Amelia’s words. ‘Why?’

‘Because the DPP didn’t do anything about the fuckwit that killed Mum. And they didn’t do anything to me, either.’

‘Why would they do anything to you?’

‘You know I was driving. And don’t bother saying it wasn’t my fault—I know it was.’ Charlee thrust her jaw out belligerently, but her chin wobbled.

‘I know how you feel,’ Amelia said softly.

‘The … grief, you mean?’ Charlee’s tone was almost hopeful.

‘That. And the guilt. Your mum died that day, but you didn’t.’

‘No. But I wanted to,’ Charlee said defensively.

‘I know.’ God, how she knew. Amelia took a breath, pulling the pillow that had briefly been Noah into her arms. ‘My son died because of me. And it was the same as your mum’s death: someone else’s fault, yet it still comes back to my choices. Your choices.’

Charlee’s face was white and shocked, her teeth audibly chattering as she tried to control her tears.

Amelia closed her eyes, partly through exhaustion, partly to shut out the other woman’s pain. ‘So I totally get why you study to keep distracted. It’s the same reason I change jobs all the time, the reason why I’ve been running for three years. I don’t want to leave any space, any time, to allow the memories in, because they hurt so much. And yet I’m terrified—’ Her voice broke and she swallowed hard before she could continue. ‘I’m terrified that I’m going to forget. Noah’s special smell—all boy and puppy dog and soap—the sound of his laughter, the feel of his little toes poking me in the back when he was bored watching TV, just hispresence; all that might disappear forever if I don’t rip open my scars by thinking about him every day. And at the same time, all I want to do is forget. Forget what was so precious, because maybe then it won’t hurt so much.’

The room was completely silent and, reluctantly, she opened her eyes.

Charlee stared at her unblinkingly, tears rolling unchecked down her cheeks. Without making any move to wipe them away, she nodded. Just once. ‘You’re right,’ she whispered. ‘You’re exactly right. I don’t want to let go of Mum because then I’ve lost her. But I don’t want to hold onto her because—God, it’s so painful.’

‘It’s like … complete powerlessness,’ Amelia said. ‘I can’t get past the thought that if I’m sad enough, sorry enough, somehow that should be enough to bring Noah back. But I know it won’t. Nothing will. That’s the truth about death: they’re never coming back. And somehow we have to learn to live with that.’

‘How?’

Despair welled in her. ‘I don’t bloody know.’ Her tone was too desperate. She should be offering Charlee solace, some kind of hope. But she had none.

‘Drugs help,’ Charlee offered, almost shyly. ‘At least, they did for a while.’

If she didn’t feel so ill, so exhausted, perhaps she’d have a better response for the teenager. She was the adult here; hadn’t she just attacked Heath for his inadequate parenting? Yet the words slipped out of her mouth.

‘Not for me. I overdosed. Nearly died. But see, I failed in that, too. Even though I felt like Noah was there, waiting for me, just out of reach.’ She stretched her hand out, fingers aching for the memory of her golden-haired son. ‘I couldn’t get to him. Every time I tried, I was jerked back here. Then I finally realised that I don’t deserve to die.’

‘That’s … good?’ Charlee said cautiously.

Amelia gave a mirthless laugh. ‘Not good. I don’t deserve to die because that would be the easy way out. No more pain, no more guilt.’

‘God, you’re as broken as I am.’ Relief laced Charlee’s words.

Amelia tried to sit up, to take control of the situation. What was she doing, looking for a kindred spirit in this almost-child? This illness, this blood-poisoning, whatever it was, had robbed her of her ability to make rational decisions. She should be mentoring Charlee, helping ease her path, not loading her with the crushing weight of her own guilt.

‘Whoa, you have to stay in bed,’ Charlee said, pressing her back against the pillow. ‘Doc’s orders.’

‘I’ve got to see to Karmaa and Kismet.’

‘Told you, I’ve been feeding them.’

‘Been feeding’, not ‘fed’? Amelia struggled to make sense of the statement. ‘How long have you been here?’

‘Since Friday morning.’

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