Dad was asleep in the chair by the bed when I woke up properly. I’d slept on and off all through the day and it was dark outside. The clock on the wall said nearly eleven.
His head was hanging to one side, looking really uncomfortable. When did he get so old?
‘Dad,’ I whispered. It took three goes before he started and woke.
‘What is it?’
‘Why don’t you go home?’
‘I’m fine here,’ he said, moving his neck from side to side.
‘Nothing’s gonna happen, Dad. I’m OK.’
He gave me a weird, lopsided kind of smile. ‘I can’t risk it, Jarr.’
It hit me then, what it had meant to them. I was sorry. And glad the branch broke.
‘How you feeling?’ he asked.
‘Better. You?’
‘OK. Try to sleep, eh?’
I lay still, listening to his breathing. It didn’t change and I figured he was wide awake.
‘Dad?’
‘Mm?’
Maybe because it was dark and I didn’t have to look at him, or maybe because we were in the hospital, but I really wanted to know about the day Toby drowned. I was alive, and I wanted to know everything.
‘When are we moving?’ I asked instead.
I heard his breath catch. ‘Don’t worry about that. You’ll finish the term first. I’m going down to see Pop for a few days. He’s not well. We won’t make any other decisions for a while.’
‘Are you going to take Toby’s ashes?’
A long pause. ‘No. We’ll scatter his ashes together when it feels right.’
‘Dad?’
‘Mm?’
‘What happened?’
He knew what I meant. He was silent for so long I thought he wasn’t going to answer. At last he wriggled a bit and started.
‘I was working. I should have helped your mother get ready, but she insisted I get cracking, and you know that was the whole point of Toby going to child care. I was over there, welding. Couldn’t hear much with that going on. And I had my back to the pool and the safety mask on.’
‘And?’
‘Heard your mother. I realised it was something bad. I ran out. She was on the step in the pool, holding Toby. Carrying him out.’
We were both silent. I could hear in his choked voice how hard it was to say it, and it wasn’t any easier for me to hear it. I was ready to tell him not to go on, but he started again.
‘She’d gone to the bathroom. Left him alone reading on the kitchen floor. Just a few minutes. If the gate had been working properly, it wouldn’t have mattered.’
‘What was wrong with the gate?’
He shifted around again, rubbed his neck. ‘Owl malfunctioned. Didn’t shut the gate properly behind me when I went through to the studio. I didn’t notice it. If I’d been paying attention … That’s why they charged me, Jarrah. It was my fault. I should never have changed the gate system.’
His voice was trembling. No wonder. He blamed himself for the whole thing.
‘Thanks for telling me,’ I said.
‘It’s OK. You know, Jarr, you can ask me anything. I’ll do my best to answer.’
I lay there for a long time trying to get up the courage and I think he was starting to doze off by the time I did.
‘Are you and Mum divorcing?’
‘Absolutely not,’ he said in the dark. ‘Don’t even think it, Jarrah.’
I closed my eyes. Still kind of drugged, spiralling down towards sleep, being dragged there in spite of everything.
Just before I dropped off, I realised what was nagging at me. I didn’t know why, but I didn’t believe him, about him and Mum. And if he’d lied about that, what else was he lying about?