In the Shadow of Satellites Page 11

  “So, he’s a bit of a mystery man then,” she says, settling back into her chair and putting her feet up on the railing.

  “I suppose so.”

  “I kind of thought he might be hiding, living over here – and by that I mean both living here in New Zealand, and also living on this side of the lake.”

  I bristle on his behalf. It could be nothing of the sort. He might just like solitude. But I know what she’s getting at. I’m hiding too, aren’t I? I can hardly deny it. I hope she doesn’t use this as an opening to ask me to move in with her again. As the silence stretches out I realise she’s not going to, and the relief is immense. I don’t want to talk about that again yet.

  She’s so quiet, I wonder if she’s fallen asleep beneath her glasses. She doesn’t move when I stand up to take my plate back into the kitchen, rinsing it and putting it on the draining board to dry beside Luke’s mug.

  ***

  Ana doesn’t last much longer before she’s back in bed taking an afternoon nap, or as she refers to it, a ‘horizontal life pause’. I hope she feels better when she wakes up. Personally, I feel a little guilty but I’m grateful for the return of my solitude, even if it’s only for an hour or so. I could feel our conversation turning into a confrontation, and I’ll do almost anything to avoid that.

  I sit at the table, contemplating what to do with my precious alone time. I wanted to write, but now that I’m here, with my notebook open in front of me, all I can think about is Luke. He’s an enigma, that’s for certain. Our conversation last night about the stars has me more curious than I should be, especially after Ana’s offhand remark earlier. Is he hiding something? Maybe he’s just like me, desperate for some time away from the world for a spell. Or forever. Whichever comes first.

  But that’s not my business if I can’t handle him asking about mine.

  I try to shake him loose from my thoughts and turn my attention to the notebook. Picking up my pen, I twirl it a couple of times as the memories do the same in my head, spinning in endless circles until I can reach out and catch one in my hand. I open my hand and look inside, and Days Bay stares back at me.

  One afternoon, not long after we’d moved to Wellington, we went to a café in Days Bay, overlooking the harbour. It was a beautiful, warm day, and the infamous Wellington breeze was non-existent. “There’s nothing like Wellington on a good day,” James had said, and it was so true. The sky and the sea were almost exactly the same shade of blue, and we sat with our lattes and our brioche and salad, watching the boats out in the harbour. It was one of the most relaxing days we’d had, after the mad dash of moving from Rotorua, starting new jobs and finding rental accommodation. It was as if all the stress was behind us, and all that lay ahead was lazy days in the sunshine, soaking up the capital and all it had to offer. How naïve we were.

  I was unceremoniously dragged back to the present by a soft knock on the open door.

  “Anybody home?”

  Luke.

  I quickly close my notebook, leaving it on the table as I struggle to clear away the memories, trying desperately to pretend that I don’t wish I was back in Days Bay with James, drinking a latte and watching the boats sail by.

  “Hey boy, where is everyone?”

  Geezer has gone out to meet his master.

  “In here,” I say. “Come in.”

  I’m standing awkwardly at the table in the kitchen when he appears in the doorway.

  “Hi,” he says, and I can tell he knows he’s interrupting something.

  I can see it on his face. I paste on a smile, because that’s the polite thing to do. I can feel the past slipping away again, leaving me with a familiar sense of melancholy.

  “Everything okay?” he asks, giving Geezer a good rub-down while keeping his eyes firmly on me.

  “Fine.”

  He nods, standing up straight again, his eyes flitting to the notebook on the table beside me.

  “Ana still around? I didn’t see the boat go out today.”

  “She’s having a nap. She’s still not feeling too great.”

  “I wondered, after last night. She seemed to wither pretty quickly after dinner.”

  “Yeah.” I turn to the kitchen, putting some space between us. He’s so tall, he fills the doorframe and it always makes the cottage so much smaller when he’s here. “Do you want something to drink? Coffee, or beer or something?”

  “Coffee. Coffee would be great, thanks.”

  I set about filling up the kettle and turning it on, rather than using the fancy coffee machine Ana gifted me a few months back. It’s too quick. I want to draw this out, give myself something to concentrate on.

  I hear him behind me, pulling out a chair and sitting down at the table, as I take mugs, instant coffee and sugar out of the cupboard and milk from the fridge.

  Then I spy his mug on the draining board.

  “Would you rather have it in this? You left it behind last night, along with the other stuff,” I say, turning back to him.

  His eyes are glued to my notebook, but he turns his attention back to me immediately. Thank God it’s closed.

  “Oh yeah, I forgot all about that. Thanks. That’s what it’s for, right?”

  He smiles, but it’s not his usual smile. This one is much more guarded.

  I turn my back on him again, returning one of the now-extra mugs back to the cupboard.

  “Listen, about last night,” he says. “I might’ve been a little out of line and I want to apologise. I’m sorry if I… “

  He doesn’t finish, and I’m confused. He’s apologising for something, although I’ve no idea what. I turn around to face him, looking for clues.

  “What are you sorry for, exactly?”

  He ducks his head, running a hand through his hair, which looks mostly like a show of frustration. When he looks up at me again, I can see it much more clearly.

  “Look, we’re both adults here. You haven’t said as much, but I can tell that you live here for more or less the same reasons I do – privacy. I just hope that what happened last night isn’t going to affect our friendship.”

  I race through my memory of last night, trying to figure out what he means. What piece of the puzzle am I missing?

  “Your wedding ring,” he says, after a few moments. “I can tell I upset you. I never meant to, I promise you that. I was just curious. I realise now that I should’ve kept my mouth shut. I’m really sorry. It’s your own business, nothing to do with me. Can we just put it behind us?”

  Wedding ring? What’s he talking about? Panic sets in and I stare at him. I grab my left hand, holding onto the ring as if it might give me some kind of clue.

  “I… I don’t… “

  I shake my head, trying to put my thoughts in order, holding on tightly to the thin band of gold on my finger, hard up against my engagement ring, a simple diamond solitaire. I still wear both, because I see no reason to take them off.

  “I’m sorry,” I murmur, trying again. “I don’t remember you… I don’t remember that.”

  “It’s okay. Sit down, babe.”

  I turn toward Ana, standing in the doorway looking pale and tired. She tries to usher me into the nearest chair but I resist, holding my ground at the kitchen counter as anxiety crawls up out of my stomach and over my skin like a nasty rash. My fingers grip the bench top like a vice. It feels like the floor is sinking, taking me with it.

  “Hi,” she says to Luke, who looks almost as lost as I feel. “I heard you guys talking.”

  She sits down in the chair opposite him, and my throat begins to close up.

  “I’m going to tell him,” she says, looking me square in the eye. “I think it’s better that he knows.”

  I open my mouth to quiet her, but she has that look on her face and I know it’s pointless. My heart races. This is exactly what I don’t want, I already feel like a freak. I refuse to look at Luke, even though I bet he’s wondering what the hell’s going on. My brain feels like cheese being fed through an in
dustrial grater.

  “Did you hear anything about the Christchurch earthquake, in 2011?” I hear Ana ask, as my inner child yells at her to stop.

  Luke must’ve nodded, but I’m too scared to look at him. Instead, I concentrate on Ana as the horror continues to unfold before me.

  “Sian was there, with her family. The best we can piece together is that she was in a building when it collapsed. When they found her she was unconscious, barely breathing.”

  She looks over at me and I silently beg her, but she continues anyway, turning back to Luke with the determination I used to admire, but now despise. He doesn’t need to know any of this. I don’t want him to know any of this.

  “She was in a coma for months, and honestly, we weren’t sure if she was ever going to wake up. But she did. She’d suffered a traumatic brain injury, so the battle began again as soon as she opened her eyes. She had to re-learn how to do all the basic stuff all over again, the stuff we take for granted. She’s amazing – really. Eighteen months ago, she could barely talk and she couldn’t walk by herself. But her short and mid-term memory was affected, so sometimes she forgets things. Sometimes it’s little things, like where she put something. Sometimes its bigger things, like conversations. It’s getting better but the specialists have said it’s just something she’s going to have to live with. She made adjustments – lists, reminders, stuff like that. It’s not usually a big deal.”

  I wish she’d shut up. I wish I was somewhere else. I wish this wasn’t my life.

  “I’m sorry,” Luke says.

  I cringe. This is what I was afraid of. He knows, and now he’s going to think I’m crazy. It was nice while it lasted.

  “She’s a walking miracle, really,” Ana says, glancing over at me again.

  I’ve had enough of this.

  “Stop talking about me like I’m not here,” I snap. “I may be crazy, but I’m not deaf.”

  “You’re not crazy,” she says firmly, undeterred because she’s heard it all before. “Like I said, you’re a fucking miracle. I wish you’d realise that.”

  I glare at her, silently arguing that she’s wrong. I’m not a miracle – far from it. But before I realise what I’m doing, I aim my anger and embarrassment at Luke.

  “What happened last night? I don’t remember and I want to know why you’re apologising.”

  Luke visibly flounders, as though he’s torn. It’s started already. He’s treating me like a mental patient and it does nothing to calm me down.

  “Tell me,” I demand, practically daring him not to.

  I’m trembling, and it feels as if I’m going to fall apart any moment, pieces of me scattering to the four winds.

  “I asked about your wedding ring,” he says, holding my gaze. “I said I noticed you wore one, yet there was no sign of your husband. I said it was none of my business, but if you ever wanted to talk about it, I was here. I’m a good listener.”

  I want to run. I want to thank him. I want to pretend none of this ever happened.

  “I mean it,” he says, his eyes burning into mine with an intensity that renders my entire body numb. “If you want to talk, I’m here.”

  Chapter 14

  Saturday night was quiet, Sunday morning even more so. Ana tried to get me to come out of my shell, but I barely wanted to come out of my room. I’d been exposed. I felt naked and vulnerable, no matter how many times she tried to tell me that it was for the best.

  “What if something else happens?” she tried explaining. “It worries me, you being over here by yourself.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “You’re not. You know you’re not.”

  “What happened to you not judging me?”

  “I’m not judging you! I’m just trying to make you understand that you’re so far away over here. If something happens –“

  “What could happen?”

  “Anything – anything could happen, and not just because you forget things sometimes. Anything could happen to anybody, you’re just at a greater risk than most because you’re in complete isolation here.”

  “I’m not! Luke’s here, isn’t he?”

  “Exactly – now do you see why I told him?”

  Bitch. She tricked me. I wanted to slap her.

  “If he knows what’s going on, he can –“

  “What? Spy on me?”

  “I was going to say help, smart-arse.”

  I didn’t want his help. I didn’t even want her help right now. I just wanted everyone to piss off and leave me alone.

  Luke steered clear all day, which was just as well because I didn’t want to have to deal with him either. As much as I didn’t want his friendship a couple of weeks ago, I found myself mourning the tentative relationship we’d now lost. Everything seemed so messed up, I couldn’t see straight.

  I dropped Ana off at the café in the late afternoon, refusing to look over at Luke’s place on my way back. I was afraid he’d take it as an invitation to come over and I was still too upset for that.

  Pacing the cottage now, my head feels like it’s in a vice. I need to get out. I swallow a couple of pills to try and ease the ache and set off on a walk up the track. Pounding it out along the well-worn path goes some way towards soothing my ragged spirit, but by the time I get to the half-way rock, I’m exhausted. My body isn’t up for this kind of punishment. I should know better.

  I sit down on the rock, picking at the moss and half-heartedly taking in the view as my head beats in time with my heart. There are no voices today. No James, no Kieran. I’m completely alone. I stood on this exact spot almost two weeks ago and imagined falling, but James saved me. I wonder if he will save me today.

  I stand up slowly, inching forward until my toes are at the very edge of the earth. My heart pounds harder, but my head feels strangely lighter, almost as if it has separated from my body. I stretch my arms out wide.

  I could fall.

  I lean forward, ever so slightly, testing the universe.

  I close my eyes.

  Where is he?

  I lean further out into the void and the air rushes up to meet me, circling me in anticipation.

  I am hauled backwards so quickly, my breath is still out there, between the worlds, the one I want to be in and this one. I’m breathless until it comes back to me.

  Has he saved me? Has he come back for me?

  “James?” I whisper, opening my eyes.

  The arms around me loosen, and I am turning around to face him, finally.

  Except it’s not James. It’s Luke.

  I blink, the face in front of me swimming crazily.

  “What’s happening?” I mumble at the apparition.

  “I was just going to ask you the same thing,” he breathes, fear quickly replaced by relief as he pulls me further away from the edge.

  “Sian?” he says, shaking me a little, so that I look up at him. “What were you trying to do? What’s going on?”

  I don’t speak. I can’t. I’m filled with such disappointment, such anger, such frustration at this world and my life and James, that I can’t put any of it into words. Why won’t he save me from this? Why won’t he help me?

  Luke’s eyes burn through me and I can’t look away, not this time. I want him to see how broken I am, and I want him to fix it. I just want someone to help me.

  He draws me closer and I let him, closing my eyes as I lean my head against his chest. My arms wrap around him of their own free will, and it feels as if he’s protecting me not only from myself, but from the outside world, a crazy, cruel, unpredictable world I don’t understand. It feels like we’re one, as if we’re cocooned against the madness.

  He’s a force-field, a shield, and for now, I’m safe.

  ***

  The sun is falling into the hills opposite the lake and it’ll be dark soon, yet Luke shows no sign of leaving. I glance through to the kitchen. Every movement feels like an effort. Disappointment courses through me. He’s making coffee, opening drawers and cupboards,
finding things.

  We walked all the way home in silence and he hasn’t left my side since. I think he’s scared I’m going to kill myself. I don’t blame him, I suppose. I want to tell him that it’s okay, that I’m not really suicidal. Not really. I want to tell him that what I was trying to do was reach my dead husband, that I was waiting for James to save me, not him. But my mind is muddled, and the words won’t come.

  So he makes coffee. It’s such a simple thing to do, but I’m so grateful. I don’t want to talk about this. I don’t want to answer any questions. I just want to curl up in a ball and wait for all of this to go away. I feel like I’m not really here. Maybe this is a dream. No, if this was a dream, it would be James in the kitchen making coffee.

  I don’t hear the voices anymore. Have they forsaken me?

  Luke sits down on the couch beside me, handing me a mug of coffee and waiting for me to take it. I do, but my hand is shaking so badly that I have to put it down on the table in front of us instead. He follows suit.

  “Are you cold?” he asks.

  I shake my head. Honestly, I don’t know. I don’t feel cold, or hot. I’m not even sure I feel at all. He places one of Nanna’s crocheted blankets around my shoulders, and I huddle into the warmth. Maybe I’m cold after all.

  “What happened out there?” he asks.

  I knew it was coming, but it doesn’t make it any easier. I should be grateful for the reprieve he’s given me so far, but I’m not. I’m lost, and everything hurts, and everything is so damn complicated. I don’t even know where to begin.

  “Talk to me, Sian.”

  I wish I could, but I can’t even look at him.

  “You’re going to have to talk to me if you want me to get out of here, because I’m not leaving until you do.”

  I don’t know why he cares so much. We barely know each other. He’s been my neighbour for a few months and we’re not friends, not really. A little voice whispers that I didn’t push him away up there, at the rock. I pulled him closer. I invited him in. Now I’m going to have to pay for that.

  “If you don’t talk to me now, I’m going to have to call Ana.”