Rebecca frowned as she stared down at the next name on the admission form.
Beryl Green.
An image of a broken woman, sobs racking her body at a graveside, flashed through Rebecca’s mind and she took a minute to blink away that horrible day.
Opening the curtain of the examination cubicle, she had to school her features into a friendly mask, even after the shock of seeing how terribly the broken and bleeding woman in the bed had aged since she’d last seen her. The ambulance had delivered Beryl to emergency after what she’d said was a fall at home. She was covered in cuts and bruises and a quick read through the thick file showed this wasn’t the first time she’d been here.
‘Hello, Mrs Green, the doctor will be here soon, so let’s get you cleaned up and have a bit of a look at what’s going on,’ Rebecca said in a friendly, calm voice.
‘Do I know you?’ the woman croaked, peering at her through swollen eyes, one side of her face bruised in the shape of a fist.
‘I used to go to school with your son,’ Rebecca said quietly.
‘Charles?’
Before Rebecca could correct her, loud voices from outside carried through into the room, distracting her as her troublemaker alert kicked into overdrive. She kept one ear on the situation as she carefully cleaned up her patient, listening to Sharon’s low murmur as she calmly spoke to the irate person at the front desk.
Mrs Green sighed wearily. ‘That’s my husband.’
Rebecca looked down at her. ‘Do you want me to call someone to deal with him for you?’
‘Oh, no. No, that would just upset him even more. Jock doesn’t like the police, you know,’ she said with more than a hint of panic in her voice.
‘Mrs Green, if you’re being hurt by anyone, there are people who can help you.’
‘No. No one’s hurting me. I’m just clumsy, always tripping over things and losing my balance, that’s all.’ Mrs Green’s voice rose defensively.
‘Mr Green! You can’t go in there.’ Sharon’s voice carried over the commotion in the waiting room and Rebecca gasped as a wild-eyed man with untidy grey hair came bursting through the curtain.
‘Excuse me!’ Rebecca said, raising her voice and making sure she eyed the man with her coldest glare. ‘What do you think you’re doing in here?’ She placed herself between the man and her patient.
‘That’s my wife. The silly cow out the front wouldn’t let me see her!’ he yelled.
‘You can’t just come bursting in here like that! The curtains are drawn for a reason. You will get out of here this minute, or I’ll have you removed, by the police if necessary. Do you understand?’
‘She’s my wife,’ he repeated stubbornly.
‘I don’t care if she’s Queen bloody Mary; it doesn’t give you the right to be obnoxious in a hospital ward. If she wants to see you when I’ve finished cleaning her up, then we’ll come and get you, but until the doctor has checked her out, you are not allowed to be in here.’
‘Whaddaya mean if? Of course she’ll see me. Why? Have you been telling them something stupid, Beryl?’
Out of the corner of her eye, Rebecca saw the woman shrink even further, so she placed a hand on the woman’s arm in reassurance, standing her ground. ‘She hasn’t been saying anything – but if you don’t leave, I’ll be pressing charges against you myself,’ she snapped.
For a minute, the man’s blurry eyes narrowed on Rebecca with thunderous fury, then a voice behind him said, ‘Come on, Dad. We can wait outside until they’re finished.’
Rebecca shifted her gaze to the thin man who’d stepped closer to his father in order to intervene. She hadn’t noticed him before now. The older man, although still radiating hostility, headed back out to the waiting room, mumbling unpleasant expletives as he went.
‘Sorry about that. I’ll keep an eye on him.’
Rebecca sent a slight nod of thanks to the younger man. For a moment, an image of a face similar to his flashed before her eyes and she realised he must be Marty’s younger brother. She searched her mind for a name, but couldn’t seem to recall what it was. She couldn’t return the younger man’s reassuring smile. If she had her way, his father would be sitting in a cell at the police station overnight, maybe for a lot longer if his frightened wife ever summoned up the courage to report him to the authorities one day.
‘It might be best if you took him home. We’ll call you when your mother needs to be picked up.’ Removing her hand from the woman’s arm, she reached across and grabbed the edge of the curtain.
He paused as though he wanted to say something, but closed his mouth abruptly and followed his father out to the waiting room.
With a quick flick of her wrist, Rebecca pulled the curtain back into place and faced her patient. ‘It’s all right. He’s gone now.’
The woman lay back against the pillows behind her head with a sad sigh of defeat. ‘You shouldn’t have done that,’ she said in a tired voice.
‘Would you like me to get you some help? You don’t have to go back home tonight.’
‘And just where would you suggest I go, dear?’
‘There are women’s refuges, where they have people who can help you,’ Rebecca said quietly.
Beryl gave a bitter laugh, and winced as it pulled against her tender ribs. ‘I’m too old for it to make any difference nowadays.’
The doctor came in through the curtain and began the examination, gently feeling for broken bones and categorising the injuries. Rebecca followed him out as he went to fill in the paperwork at the nurses’ station.
‘Rick, can we put her in a bed upstairs for a night or two? I really don’t think it’s a good idea to just release her.’
The doctor eyed her over the chart he was preparing. ‘Does she want to press charges?’
Rebecca frowned. ‘No. But if she could just be in a safe environment for a few days, away from his influence, I think I can convince her to consider it.’
‘Rebecca, what you want to do is admirable and I feel for the woman, but you know damn well unless she’s willing to make some radical changes, there’s very little likelihood of her actually pressing charges against him. Take a look at the file – these injuries go back decades. What do you think the odds of her doing anything about it now are?’
‘So we just keep turning a blind eye?’
‘There’s nothing we can do. Come on, you’re no first-year RN – you know the game by now.’
Rebecca nodded: she knew the game all right. The women who streamed through the halls of the city hospitals made up an endless, faceless river of pain. The sheer enormity of the problem made her feel small and helpless. But here, in her hometown, she wanted to make a difference. ‘Come on, Rick,’ she pleaded.
‘Sorry, I don’t have the beds to spare, even if I thought it was a viable solution. Save your energy for the patients who want our help.’
Rebecca stared after him and silently swore up a storm. She knew the effect dealing with patients had on health professionals. It was easy to burn out in this job – but she swore that if she ever began to think like Rick, she’d leave before it made her a jaded, disillusioned shell of her former self.
Despite her best attempts to convince Beryl that she had options, she called the number she’d been given and asked the man who answered to come and pick up his mother.
When she let Beryl know they were coming, she asked about him.
‘That would be Charles. He’s my youngest,’ she said with a long sigh. ‘The only son I have left now.’
Rebecca felt the condolences stick to the top of her mouth like a bite of peanut butter sandwich. In her current emotional state, she wasn’t sure Beryl would cope with the memory of that long-ago accident and Rebecca’s own part in it.
Walking her out to the waiting room as Charles came to the window of the front desk, Rebecca once again had a strong premonition of something bad. How did a son allow his own mother to be beaten and hurt like that? Why didn’t he intervene and remove her from the situation? She found it difficult to watch him escort his mother through the doors a few minutes later, and a chill crept its icy fingers across her skin as she watched – helpless to act on the woman’s behalf.
She almost wished that the monster had rendered the woman unconscious. It would have been more clear cut: she could have called the police herself and pressed charges. It was probably the only way it would ever happen in this situation – and even then, as soon as she was conscious she’d likely just drop the charges. Rebecca understood Rick had good reason to be jaded over the situation, but she was damned if she would ever be able to simply shrug it off and move on to the next patient as easily as he seemed to.
Rebecca heard the phone ringing inside the house and cursed under her breath. Why was it the minute you were up to your elbows in something (in this case, weeding), the phone rang – or worse, visitors dropped by? She was tempted to ignore it; a tinge of apprehension flickered through her at the thought of it being that eerie, dead silence on the other end once more. She hadn’t mentioned it to Seb again, but it seemed to be happening more frequently in the last few days – sometimes up to three times a day, and late at night.
The ringing stopped just as she reached for the handset and she released the involuntary breath she’d been holding. She eyed the phone warily for a few more seconds before heading to the kitchen sink to wash the dirt from her hands. Weeding had lost its shine, the sick feeling hadn’t quite left her stomach, and she decided it was as good a time as any for a coffee break.
Rebecca glanced at the clock above the sink and was surprised to see it was almost noon. Her morning in the garden had been well spent; the pretty gardens, planted by someone who obviously enjoyed gardening, were slowly coming back to their original splendour and she couldn’t wait to sit out there and enjoy them – weed free and uncluttered.
The buzz from her handbag on the kitchen bench made her jump. She dug through the contents of the bag, past the girls’ hats and various hair bands, brushes and a tangle of headphones that had somehow found its way in there, to triumphantly claim her mobile.
A number she didn’t recognise made her hesitate briefly before pressing the little green phone icon and answering the call. ‘Hello?’
‘Bec? It’s Seb.’
‘Seb? How’d you know my mobile number?’ she asked, more surprised than annoyed. His deep chuckle on the other end of the phone made her pulse do a funny little skip.
‘I could tell you, but I’d have to kill you,’ he told her lightly and without remorse. ‘Where are you? I tried your home phone – you’re not at work, are you?’
‘Ah, no. I’m at home. I was outside in the garden and just missed your call.’ Seb was calling her.
‘Do you want to bring the girls out to Dad’s tomorrow?’ he was saying. ‘They seemed kinda excited about visiting a farm and I thought we might take them down to the creek … if you wanted to.’
‘Sure. That’s a great idea. They’ll love it.’ She tried to keep her tone as casual as his offer. Did she detect a note of diffidence in his voice, or had he just been unsure she’d accept? With a shake of her head, she made herself stop analysing his every move and decided to just accept the invitation for what it was: something to make the girls happy.
They’d be over the moon. Only this morning Sarah had been asking when they could go and visit Seb’s farm, and even Natalie couldn’t hide her interest. She’d tried to break it to them gently that Seb was an old friend, but they didn’t really know him well enough for a visit and it probably wouldn’t happen. She could just imagine the ‘I told you so’ looks they’d give her once she broke the news. Had they picked up on something she hadn’t? Or was it just the innocent assumption kids had that everyone would fall in love with them and want to invite them over to visit?
Fall in love … Whoa – where had that come from? Now who was being delusional? She and Seb had shared a silly teenage romance, one of those heady, first-love rushes that she should know better than to even think about. This older Seb didn’t seem the kind of man who would easily fall in love and especially not with a woman who came with two little extras, no matter how cute they were. He was just being friendly – he didn’t know anyone else in the district these days, and he was probably bored out of his brain, stuck out on his dad’s place, healing.
‘So come out whenever you’re ready; in fact, if you come in the morning, we can make a day of it,’ he suggested.
‘Thanks, Seb,’ she said, ‘the kids will love it. I’ll see you tomorrow.’
He said goodbye and she heard the click of the phone disconnecting. Distracted, she replaced the phone in her handbag and looked out at her backyard thoughtfully. The house phone ringing immediately after brought a smile to her face as she picked it up.
‘What did you forget to tell me to bring?’
The silence that greeted her remark immediately wiped the smile from her face as the familiar heavy breathing started in her ear once more. Slamming the phone down in its cradle, Rebecca moved away from the bench and hugged herself tightly.
Bastard.
Well, it wasn’t going to work, she decided, as the prickly sensation of uncertainty began to fade, replaced by the surge of injustice. He could try all he liked to play his little games. Let him get off on trying to scare the hell out of her – he was the loser. Really, who the hell did that, these days?
Surely whoever it was would lose interest in her once they figured out she wasn’t going to fall apart or react at all. She sure as hell wasn’t going to needlessly worry her parents, who would insist she drag the police into it. Going to the police would be a waste of time, and she really didn’t need to be a pain in their already hectic lives for no purpose – she knew that the police were just as overworked and underpaid as nurses were. The last thing she wanted to do was cause more unnecessary paperwork over something that wasn’t going to lead anywhere.
The one thing she knew for certain in this whole warped fiasco was that she was going to do her best to stop wasting time worrying about the stupid prank phone calls.
She went to the cupboard to take down a coffee cup, then took the phone off the hook as she sat and sipped her coffee, needing its warmth to ward off the chill that had invaded her limbs, leaving her feeling exhausted and disturbed.