‘There are two coffees going cold on a counter back at the food truck thanks to you dragging me away. Another two minutes wouldn’t have hurt.’ Detective Pete McNamara scowled from the passenger seat.
Detective Liz Moorland didn’t answer as she navigated along the icy road. Her partner’s first-world complaint wasn’t helping. She gripped the steering wheel until her knuckles were white.
It can’t be true.
‘From the sound of it this was just an accident. Not like we can do anything either.’
She shot him a look which she hoped would shut him up. Pete was an excellent police officer but a royal pain.
Flashing blue and red lights signalled an ambulance approaching and she slowed and moved over as far as she dared on this narrow road. It flew past and she muttered a small prayer for the occupant. She didn’t need to believe in a god to offer up her internal cry for help. Pete kept his thoughts to himself. Perhaps the gravity of a speeding ambulance kept his tongue in check.
The scene ahead was sheer carnage.
Patrol cars blocked the road on either end of a fifty metre or so stretch with uniformed officers acting as traffic controllers. A small line-up of cars were stationary at the far end and a couple of people had climbed out to take photographs. An ambulance and two fire trucks parked at angles closer to the crash.
Portable floodlights shone on emergency workers using the jaws of life on the passenger door of a mangled red sedan. Its bonnet was wrapped around the trunk of a large gum tree on the wide, overgrown grass verge.
Liz pulled over out of the way, forcing aside the thought that nobody could survive that impact. The ambulance had had its sirens on. Someone was alive.
Pete was out of the car first. ‘I’ll go and have a word with that officer. Get him to do his job. Bloody parasites photographing this.’
His absence gave Liz the chance to gather herself. Put her feelings aside. Deal with what was going on around her without letting it get into her head.
Fat chance.
‘Liz. Sorry to see you under the circumstances.’ Senior Constable Annette Benski met her halfway. They’d worked together on a recent case.
‘Is there any chance you’re wrong, Annette?’
‘Wouldn’t have called you if I was. Damned shame.’
An iron band tightened around her chest as they approached the car.
Stay professional.
‘Any early ideas on what caused it? Single car accident?’
‘No sign of another vehicle. Accident Investigation will be here soon and that’s what it looks like on the surface. Road is freezing. Driver might have been going a bit too fast and lost it. Could be drug or alcohol related… sorry. No point speculating.’
With a groan, the machinery forced the metal apart and the passenger door fell away with a thud.
The windscreen was inches from the front seat passenger. A deflated air bag sagged.
And Susie Weaver was dead.
Liz gulped down the lump in her throat.
She peered past Susie to David and recoiled at the damage to his face.
‘Melanie? Was she with them?’
‘Ambulance just took her. In a bit of pain mostly from a busted arm from the look of it. But Liz. She saw her parents. The paramedics gave her a green whistle, but I know she understood they’re deceased.’
Liz touched Susie’s arm.
I’ll look out for Melanie. And your dad.
‘Liz? Maybe don’t hang around while they recover the… bodies.’
‘Who is telling Vince?’
‘Couple of uniforms. Thought it best he knew straight away.’
With a final look at Susie, Liz went in search of Pete. He was laying down the law to curious bystanders. When he noticed her he came over. ‘You alright?’
Her heart wasn’t even beating anymore. She was sure of it.
‘It's not fair. Not again.’
Vince Carter worked on a small piece of timber, a turning knife carving out the features of a bird in rapid, expert moves. He liked this one. An Indian Mynah bird, something of a pest in real life but an interesting bird to carve. His stomach rested on the top of his legs as he hunched over the bench to get the most from the narrow beam of light from a desk lamp, the only light in the room other than the muted television.
Headlights arced across the wall Vince faced and he jumped and cut too deeply into the neck of the bird. Tossing it aside, he pushed himself to his feet with a grunt, taking a minute to straighten.
‘What the hell.’
Nobody ever visited. Especially not in the dead of night.
He glanced at the clock on the mantelpiece, lit up by the headlights of a car which had pulled up. It was close to midnight.
The light caught the photographs beside the clock. Him in a police uniform, broad shouldered and flat stomached. His wedding day with a sweet-faced woman gripping his hand and smiling up at him. Marion. And another, them both seated with her holding a little girl resembling Melanie. Except it was years ago. Susie.
His stomach churned as he headed for the front door and swung it open.
Two uniformed police were climbing the couple of steps to the porch. Kids. Their nerves showing with quick puffs of misty breath.
‘Constables?’
‘Um… Sergeant Vincent Carter?’
‘Ex. Ex Sergeant Carter. What’s happened?’
‘Sir, I’m Constable McNeill. This is Constable Lovett. We’re here about your… your daughter. Susan Weaver.’
As his legs began to buckle, Vince grabbed the door frame to hold himself up.
‘Sir. We regret to inform you there was a fatal car accident this evening. Susan Weaver and her husband David Weaver were travelling home with their daughter—’
‘Melanie… please, no.’
‘Melanie Weaver has been taken to the hospital. We understand she’s in a stable condition. We’re so sorry about your daughter and son-in-law.’ They stood there. Too young to be tasked with this terrible job. Caught between duty and compassion.
Vince slumped forward, only his grip on the door frame keeping him on his feet.
I never got the chance to put things right. Now I never will.
Constable McNeill put a hand out. A firm touch to his shoulder. Vince raised his head.
‘We’ll take you to the hospital, sir.’
‘I can drive myself.’ He stepped back inside to get his keys and wallet from the hall stand.
‘We’ll get you there faster.’
Hands shaking so hard he could barely pick up his keys, he nodded.
There were no more tears left. Just a dull ache behind her eyes and a lump of ice where her heart should be. Carla imagined her face was a mess of mascara and puffiness and she didn’t care. Nothing mattered.
How do I get through this, Susie?
Her fingers worked the rosary beads handed down from her grandmother, but no prayer formed on her lips.
She sat with Bradley in a small waiting room more an alcove with a row of seats—in sight of a central nurses’ station. Someone had called Brad… a friend on the force, he’d told her. Since arriving they’d heard almost nothing, but Melanie was alive and tonight, that was a blessing.
If only David and Susie hadn’t driven her home. If only Bradley hadn’t gone back to work. Carla shifted in her seat, putting some air between the two of them.
He didn’t notice. Yet again, he was on his phone but texting, not speaking.
The lift doors opened and Vince Carter burst out, pausing to look around before stalking to the central station. It wasn’t attended and he gazed around the area until his eyes met hers. If he recognised her, he didn’t show it, spinning back to speak to a nurse who stepped behind the counter.
You didn’t care about your daughter so why are you here?
An orderly pushed a bed past, and Vince followed.
‘She’s back.’ Carla was on her feet, reaching for her handbag.
‘That’s good news.’ Bradley took her hand. ‘We need to wait for permission to see her, baby.’
‘He shouldn’t be here.’
‘Carter? He’s her grandpa but yeah. Probably not.’ Bradley got to his feet and gently pulled Carla against him. ‘This isn’t the place or time. We’ll wait for as long as it takes. Okay?’
She leaned against him as the grief bubbled up again.
Vince waited in the hallway until the orderly left.
Inside the room, a nurse finished adjusting the blankets and looked up as he entered. He stopped at the sight of the small body in the bed. Tiny. Alone.
Melanie’s eyes were closed. An IV was in one arm and some gadget on one of her fingers. Monitoring something. The forearm of her left arm was in some kind of brace. She was so little. So vulnerable.
‘Only next of kin, dear.’ The nurse checked a clipboard at the foot of the bed.
‘I’m her grandfather. Vince Carter. Is she going to be... is she alright?’
‘The break in her forearm hasn’t been set yet. She’s sedated but you can sit with her. I’ll be back in a few minutes. But let her rest.’
‘Thank you.’ There was a chair in the corner, and he moved it between the bed and the window.
The nurse hurried out, but her progress was halted by Carla and Bradley. Whatever they thought they were doing here, it wasn’t their place. Vince didn’t sit but folded his arms and stared at them.
‘Can we go in?’ Bradley wore a suit and tie and not a hair on his head was out of place.
‘I’m afraid not. One visitor at a time and only family—’
‘We are family. Her godparents.’ Carla tried to slide past the nurse who took a small step to close the gap. ‘Please. Please, can’t I see her?’
‘Why not go back to the waiting room, dear. There’s a coffee machine just around the corner.’ The nurse closed the door behind herself and whatever else Carla had to say became a muffled noise in the background.
Vince sank onto the chair. He brushed the hair from Melanie’s forehead, exposing a bruise. His hand lifted and clenched.
‘Grandad?’
Her voice was so quiet. So frail.
She gazed at him.
He took her hand. ‘Hello, Melly-belly.’
A tear slipped from the corner of the little girl’s eye. ‘Mummy? Daddy?’
He gave her hand a little squeeze. ‘I’m here, sweetie. I’ll always be here for you.’
A flicker of relief crossed her features before her eyes fluttered closed again.
The waiting room was occupied but Vince no longer cared if he had to share with two people he had no time for. His need to be here for Melanie outweighed his need to avoid her godparents.
Carla stared at him without a word. He’d never seen her look anything less than perfect, but her face was streaked with makeup, mascara and eyeshadow mixed together by tears and tissues. She’d been Susie’s best friend for a long time, as different as they were from each other.
‘How is she? Really,’ Bradley said.
Vince shrugged.
‘Please. We’ve sat here for hours and haven’t had any news.’
He found some words through a throat thick with grief. ‘She’s comfortable, considering. She woke for a minute and knew I was there.’
‘I should be with her,’ Carla snapped. ‘Susie would want it.’
Not now.
‘You know she’d want me there with Melanie. She would hate that you’re here after what you said that day. Susie didn’t want you in her life anymore so why do you think she’d want you near her daughter?’
Her words stabbed into him. Vince closed his eyes and leaned back in his seat.
‘Mr Carter?’
Vince lurched out of a half-dream, blinking his eyes to focus them.
Hospital.
Melanie.
Susie.
‘Sorry. Just wanted to update you.’ A man dropped onto the seat beside him. White coat. Tag. Weary. ‘I’m Doctor Lennard.’
‘Is she okay?’
‘Melanie is doing well, all things considered. She has a fair bit of bruising from the car restraints. A bump on the head. And a simple fracture of her left forearm.’
‘She’ll recover alright?’
The doctor nodded. ‘Physically.’
‘Does she know? About… Susie. And David?’
‘She was conscious at the scene of the accident and worked it out.’ Doctor Lennard said. ‘We’ll have a counsellor spend some time with her in the morning once she’s alert. And arrange ongoing appointments with whoever gets custody of her—’
‘Me.’
‘Oh. You will take her in?’
‘There’s nobody else. And she’s my grandchild.’
‘No family on either side?’
‘David’s mother is alive but is unwell. Susie and Mel were the only ones left on my side.’
Everyone has gone.
The doctor got to his feet. ‘Well, that little girl is very lucky to have you. We’ll talk before Melanie is discharged. She’s a brave youngster.’
Watching the man hurry away, Vince’s hands gripped his knees and he had to remember to breathe.
Of course he was taking Melanie in.