Finn edged his chair close to the side of Jarrah’s bed. Bridget was on the other side holding their son’s hand as he slept. Finn couldn’t. Couldn’t bear it. Could hardly breathe. Their lives were holding together by the slimmest of threads.
Jarrah would recover, the surgeon had assured them. Six weeks on crutches for the fractured leg, but no other serious injuries. The mark on his neck was milder than the bruises coming out on other parts of his body, and so far, no one seemed to have realised its significance.
The hospital hummed with activity. Chatter from the nurses and the orderlies, phones ringing, incessant beeping, voices. Finn let it wash over him, concentrating on Jarrah’s sleeping face.
A voice intruded: Meredith, peering around the curtain.
‘My God, what’s going on? I just saw Jarrah was admitted.’
Finn forced himself to turn and face her. ‘A branch fell on him in the storm.’
Her eyes narrowed. She was wired for suspicion, Finn thought. He shot Bridget a warning look.
‘Jarrah was mucking around in our big tree with his friend Tom last night. Crazy boys. Like to push the limits.’
Bridget looked at him, confused. Meredith studied Jarrah for so long with her horrible, knowing eyes that Finn wanted to stand and block him from her sight. He couldn’t tell any more if the mark on Jarrah’s neck stood out or not.
‘Is there anything I can do?’ Meredith asked.
Finn shook his head. ‘We just need some privacy.’
‘Of course,’ she said. ‘I’m sorry.’ Her gaze lingered on Jarrah for too long before she withdrew.
Finn got up and walked to the window. The storm was still blowing itself out, the wind gusty but no longer ferocious. Grey clouds scudded across the sky and drops pearled on the glass. He forced his mind to work, to lay out the evidence.
If anyone there – even Meredith as a volunteer – suspected Jarrah tried to commit suicide, it would be mandatory for them to report it and unleash the system upon them. The world where institutions took your children away wasn’t one Finn had inhabited – but he felt its chill breath on his neck. What if they judged that he and Bridget had neglected Jarrah? What if they tried to take him away? Meredith would be a witness against Finn at the hearing, and here before her eyes was more evidence of his failure. Another son endangered. The court case might not be the worst thing facing them.
A nurse bustled into the room, startling him. ‘Time for Jarrah’s obs.’
Finn put his hand on Bridget’s shoulder and leaned close. ‘Can we talk?’
She followed him out of the room, down the squeaky-floored hall, into a small lounge where a television murmured in the corner. Finn checked the corridor; they were alone. When Bridget sat, he crouched down in front of her.
‘It was an accident,’ he whispered. ‘Both the boys were mucking around in the tree and it broke.’
‘But—’
‘If anyone thinks … they might take him away. Look at us. We look like bloody dangerous parents. Meredith was suspicious straight away.’
Bridget’s forehead creased. ‘But – they’ll ask Jarrah – and Tom – surely?’
‘I’ll call Tom now. You talk to Jarrah as soon as he wakes up, before that bloody Meredith can get to him.’
Her eyes scanned the room. ‘Christ, Finn. Really? It seems crazy.’
He leaned in close. ‘As soon as Jarrah’s discharged we’ll take him away. We’ll get out of here. Go somewhere. Anywhere.’
‘But…’ Bridget took a deep, shuddering breath and shook her head. ‘For God’s sake. Look at us. We can’t make any decisions right now.’
Finn groaned and rocked back on his heels.
‘I’ll go on leave,’ Bridget said. ‘As of right now. I’ll stay home and look after Jarrah until the house settles. I’m not deciding anything else.’
The nurse who’d been seeing to Jarrah walked briskly past and Bridget half-rose. Finn grabbed her arm. ‘It was an accident.’
‘I’ve got to get back to him.’
Finn held her tighter. ‘Are we agreed?’
She hesitated, then nodded. ‘All right.’
‘The story’s the same for everyone. Not even family can know.’
‘Tell me you’re not just worried about how this looks in court?’ She glanced at her watch.
Fury rose in Finn. ‘I’m just trying to protect—’
But Bridget interrupted him. ‘Isn’t your court thing this morning? It’s nearly ten.’
Finn felt sick. ‘Shit. It starts at ten.’
She pulled free. ‘I’ll stay with Jarrah. It’s just the mention, isn’t it? You’ll have to get changed, though. You look like a wreck.’
He was wearing muddy shorts and a tattered T-shirt he’d flung on the night before, as he raced to the car.
‘You’ll have to go on your own,’ she said. ‘We can’t have him waking up alone. Will you be all right?’
‘Yes,’ Finn said. He had to be. No choice.
‘We’re not taking off. We need some stability.’
Finn watched her turn away and hurry up the hall almost at a run. She thought he was worried on his own behalf. She hadn’t even started thinking it through. The decision hit him with the force of a revelation. It was his to make and his only.