You wait until Jarrah is deep in some space-war movie before you give in. You text Chen from the kitchen around the time he’d be finishing work.
<could you come over?>
It’s been over a week since you said goodbye, but he responds like he’s been waiting for it, the text pinging back in moments. Within twenty minutes his car pulls up outside and he’s at the door.
‘What?’ he asks, as if you’ve never pushed him away.
You shake your head and gesture towards the lounge room, where Jarrah’s sprawled under a sheet, a fan flapping cool air on his skin. The intergalactic battle is at full pitch on the TV but you know the way children’s hearing can pierce through a babble of noise and zero in on exactly what you don’t want them knowing. You doubt Jarrah has lost the ability.
Chen is familiar and lovely and concerned, and you long for his arms around you so hard that you feel weak with it and you have to physically restrain yourself. You won’t even kiss him on the cheek or shake hands; any contact is too dangerous. Oh God, you are so alone.
A week ago, without warning you, Finn pleaded guilty to the charge of manslaughter by negligence. He had no answer to your incredulity, claiming the choice was his to make. The next day he got on a plane to visit his father, leaving you alone to care for Jarrah, with twelve days to plan out how your lives would look if he went to jail. He hasn’t told you when he’ll be back. The two of you have barely spoken – though he calls Jarrah daily.
You’ve spent seven of those days hovering over your son, refusing to allow yourself to call Chen, and creating a disaster out there in the garden. Today you’re desperate.
‘Is there somewhere we can talk?’ Chen asks.
You nod. ‘I want to show you something.’ You raise your voice and call to Jarrah over the laser guns, tell him you’ll be outside. You hear a faint ‘Sure, Mum,’ in response.
You open the pool gate, hold it for Chen, lead him through. It takes him a moment to notice, then he stops dead.
The pool is opaque, a livid green. It happened fast in the subtropical heat, once you pulled the plug on the pump and chlorinator, let the machinery die away into blessed silence. ‘What the…’
You try to explain. ‘I’m changing it into a pond. They say you put in plants and fish and the system balances up. I just didn’t think it would be this green. I can’t bear it…’ Your voice trembles and you trail off.
You’re desperate for the water to be clear again. You knew it would be hard to forego your swims, but you didn’t know how you’d ache for them, how the nights would be unbearably empty. You can’t bring yourself to even dip your hands in the vivid green water, and so another part of Toby has been lost to you.
Chen crouches by the pool and peers into it. When he stands again, he’s pale. It’s seeing at close quarters where Toby drowned, you realise.
But he shakes it off. ‘I can see a few wrigglers. That’s a good sign. Start of an ecosystem. What now?’
You pull the crumpled printout from your pocket. ‘They say once you’ve got wrigglers you can introduce plants and fish. Then the water should clear.’
‘Have you got plants?’
‘The nursery’s got water plants. I checked it out – but I don’t want to leave him to pick them up.’
He looks at you with deep, sympathetic eyes. ‘What happened, Bridget?’
You can’t stand the look of pity on his face. You shake your head. ‘Don’t.’ Then you sweep out an arm. ‘I’ve got a list. Could you collect them?’
Being a plant courier probably isn’t what he expected. The nursery might well have delivered; you didn’t check. The truth is you wanted to see him. You wanted another adult. You are grateful for Jarrah’s presence beyond anything you’ve known before, but he is, still, your teenage son.
‘You could help me get them in there. If you’ve got time.’
‘Sure.’ He starts moving, still pale and seemingly keen to get away from the green water. You lead him from the pool area back to his car. As he turns the key you lean down to the window.
‘Why don’t you bring back a bottle of wine too?’
He smiles a small relieved smile. ‘I’d like that.’
He reverses the car around and drives off. You hurry back inside to check on Jarrah.