All That Is Lost Between Us (35 page)

‘A subdural haematoma,' the doctor had told them, shaking their hands, while Callum wondered how they could ever repay him.

After Cooper's mother had collected Zac, Callum and Anya had stayed awake all night, wrapped in one another's arms, whispering in the dim light beside Georgia's hospital bed, going over everything, information pamphlets resting on their laps as they veered from reliving the day to discussing Georgia's recovery, offering long-overdue apologies and promises to try harder, be different, do more.

And among it all, Anya had told him a story about his daughter and one of her teachers that he was still having trouble accepting.

Georgia had woken the next day and quickly established herself as a fighter. As time went by and the initial trauma subsided, the biggest problems became getting her to accept she'd been seriously injured and persuading her to rest.

Callum collects the shirt from the bed and pulls it across his shoulders, beginning to button it up. A lot has happened since the accident. A few things had righted themselves quickly, such as the threatened assault charge from Ingrid Casparini, which had quickly disappeared. Last they heard, Ms Casparini was currently bailed awaiting her own court case for reckless driving and bodily harm. Sophia, meanwhile, has vowed to her parents to stay single for the rest of her life. Liam conveyed this to Callum with a wry smile.

A week after Georgia's accident, Callum found Mike McCallister's number and called to thank him for everything he'd done. He was surprised at the emotion in Mike's voice as he responded.

‘You're welcome. I'm just glad she'll be okay. No thanks are needed, though: I won't ever be able to repay you for saving Hugh.'

Callum's throat had contracted at these words. ‘How's he doing?'

‘It's slow and steady – but there's progress, and that's the main thing. You have a lovely family, Callum. Take good care of them.'

‘Are you nearly ready?' Anya asks, interrupting his thoughts as she comes into the room. ‘I don't want to be late.'

Callum quickly finishes buttoning up his shirt. Not everything can be resolved so easily. Despite their best efforts, things are still strained between him and Anya, but they have been making plans for the future: local jaunts and foreign holidays, and he hopes it will get easier with time. They are working at getting to know each other again, after all these years, and some of their conversations have surprised him. Turns out they have been sharing a bed and not much more for quite a while.

Anya leans against the window. ‘I can't tell you how relieved I am that this day has arrived,' she says. ‘I only hope that Georgia feels the same.'

‘She's been desperate to be discharged for ages,' Callum replies. ‘You know that.'

‘Yes, I do, but I can't help remembering what it was like before the accident. She barely spoke to me. I'm scared we're going to go backwards again.'

Callum comes over and hugs her. ‘You know, it's your job to fuss,' he says, ‘and her job to ignore you.'

She manages a short laugh, but then her face drops. ‘I know that Georgia might not leave us as quickly if she has to delay her exams,' she confides, ‘but I feel like I'm on this big countdown to the day I'm dreading – and I can't do a thing about it, because we have to let her go.'

‘Well, be that as it may, we will always be here for her. We don't stop being Mum and Dad when they leave home.'

‘I know.'

‘And she'll always come back.'

‘Will she?'

‘Of course – she'll always need money.'

Now Anya really laughs. ‘Yes, fair point. You mean we bribe her into coming home?'

He kisses her shoulder. ‘Yes, if that's what it takes, then that's exactly what we'll do.'

She turns around. ‘Come on, we'd better go.'

He hesitates. ‘Actually, why don't you go and bring her home by yourself? I think you'd both like that. And there's something else I need to do . . .'

Z
ac had helped his mum set up the ‘Welcome Home' banners and balloons, but he'd refused the invitation to come to the hospital. He was still cringing from his uncomfortable apology to Georgia about how her photo had found its way online. He'd stammered explanations while their parents weren't present, only to find that Georgia wasn't as furious as he'd expected. She'd told him she understood, she knew he hadn't meant it to happen, he should just forget it. When he'd explained about Jacinta, Georgia had seemed thoughtful. A few days later she told him that Sophia was hassling Maddie to ‘ditch the bitch'. Zac hoped Sophia would have more success than he'd had.

He should be offering some kind of penance, but he has no idea what, since the damage is done. He can't believe he has escaped so lightly. Perhaps Georgia hasn't yet recovered all her faculties. Perhaps that rock smashed into the exact spot in her brain that would ordinarily have told her to kill her brother.

Maddie hadn't spoken to him since the day of the race. At first he'd felt awkward about the silence between them, but this has slowly evolved into disappointed resignation. It doesn't seem as though he knows Maddie any more. Perhaps they are moving in different directions now, not destined to be lifelong friends.

He's listened to his parents getting ready, and he's melancholy as he hears the front door open and close. It was his decision not to go to the hospital, but he feels a bit left out. He looks idly at the controls lying on his bedside table, but he's not sure he wants to get absorbed in gaming again – at least, not yet. Something has shifted in him over the past few weeks. It might be time for a new phase.

In fact, he might try to stay offline altogether for a bit. He knows that photo is out there, still circulating, and he's not yet sure if the rumours will incriminate Georgia. At least she'll be off school for a while longer. By the time she goes back, no doubt some other poor student will be publicly reaping the consequences of a bad decision. In fact, he hasn't ruled out some sort of payback for Jacinta, but he's trying to let it go.

There's a knock on his bedroom door, and to his surprise, his dad walks in.

‘I thought you'd gone to get Georgia?'

‘She doesn't need both of us – your mum will fuss enough for everyone, I'm sure.' Callum sits on Zac's bed. ‘I thought I'd see what you're up to.' He picks up a control, handling it like it might explode in his hand. ‘Do you want to teach me how to play?'

His dad is making such an obvious effort that Zac laughs. ‘Maybe another time. Perhaps . . . Do you want to go on a hike somewhere? I promise I won't take my bike.'

Callum can't hide his delight. ‘Well, if you insist. Where would you like to go? Tell you what, let's do some of the Fairfield Horseshoe, then we'll buy a takeaway and bring it back for the girls. How's that?'

‘Sounds good.'

‘I'll go and pack some supplies.' Callum jumps up and Zac follows him out of the room. ‘I'll show you some of the places we've rescued people while we're up there,' his dad says over his shoulder. Zac knows they are in for a long afternoon together, and finds he doesn't mind at all.

G
eorgia is packed and ready to go. She sits on the hard hospital bed, staring out the window, waiting for her family to arrive, excited to finally get out of here.

She longs to go home. Things have changed. Her mother has been at the hospital every day, bringing goodies galore – books and magazines and chocolates and Get Well cards from almost everyone they know. She's been in touch with Addison's and managed to persuade them to sponsor Georgia anyway. And she's been there to wipe Georgia's tears, hold her hand, stroke her forehead, tell her it will get better. That she will recover. That in time, both her head and her heart will heal.

Leo has gone – resigned from his job and left town. Georgia has been told the story of how he rescued her, but she doesn't remember. However, sometimes she thinks she hears his voice, telling her he is sorry.

She's had some awkward heart-to-hearts with her parents. She's confessed to keeping things from Leo, and letting their relationship go too far. She's described how he ended their affair as soon as he discovered the truth. Her mum is still half-convinced that Leo is a sexual predator – there's been mention of lodging a complaint with the education department, but Georgia has begged her not to. Nevertheless, there's an ache in her throat at the thought that she'll never see him again.

She reaches into her bag and pulls out her diary, which Zac had reluctantly brought to the hospital at her request. From the back, she retrieves the photograph. Already she feels different as she studies it – the memory is still there, but it is as though it happened to another person, not her. She hopes that's not just down to brain trauma; that perhaps she's moving on.

She studies the photo – his handsome, guileless face. When she had pressed the button to take it, she had thought she was capturing a tiny piece of him just for herself. But in that moment it was she who had been imprisoned, stopping time for a while, living only in her daydreams and her memories.

Now, she's ready to set herself free. Her family will be here soon, and she needs to do this before she goes home. She only hesitates for a moment before she rips the photo once, twice, then over and over, until the pieces are so small she can barely hold them in her fingers. Then she goes across to the window, opens it and drops them out, watching them flutter to the ground, the makings of a comfy bed for a family of mice.

W
hen I get to the hospital, Sophia is sitting on Georgia's bed, her arms waving wildly as she fills her cousin in on gossip.

Liam comes to greet me, kissing my cheek. ‘How are you, Anya?'

‘Thankful,' I say, and he nods in agreement. We turn to our girls, who are examining the new messages and graffiti on Sophia's cast.

‘Sophia wanted to come down one last time,' Liam explains. ‘I think she misses the hospital – all these nurses pandering to her every whim.'

‘I heard that,' Sophia calls, without looking around.

‘Well, when you two have finished comparing war wounds, shall we go?' Liam picks up Sophia's crutches and takes them over to her.

I move across to help Georgia up, but she waves me away, laughing. ‘I can walk, Mum!' She hands me her bags, then pauses. ‘Would you mind if I go to Sophia's on the way? I'll just lie on the sofa, I promise, but I know I won't be going out for a while when I get home, and I'd love a change of scene. It doesn't matter if you don't want me to,' she continues quickly, but I hold a hand up to stop her.

‘It's fine,' I tell her, doing my best to cover my disappointment. So, her homecoming won't be exactly as I'd planned it. The important thing is that she's coming home today. ‘But just for an hour or so, okay. You still need to rest.'

Georgia smiles. ‘I'm sure Auntie Helene will watch me like a hawk.'

Sophia and Liam are by the door. ‘Are you ready?' Sophia asks.

We make our way along the corridor, which takes some time because we stop to thank each nurse we see on the way. People appear on all sides with beaming faces, wishing Georgia luck and bidding her farewell.

When we reach the car park, Liam's car is closest. Once beside the vehicle I put down Georgia's bags to give her a hug.

‘Come to ours for a cup of tea,' Liam says. ‘I'm sure Helene would love to catch up.' He steps forward and says quietly, ‘Then you can whisk her away when you can't bear it any longer.'

‘Okay,' I agree, and then I wave them off. Once they are gone, I collect Georgia's bags and hurry to my car.

For the first time in a long time, I am hopeful for the future. Callum and I are talking. We are slowly redefining what love might mean for us now: our deep familiarity, our troubles and our triumphs, our shared experiences, our changing ideas about the future, and our willingness to trust and respect one another despite our failures and disappointments.

As I set off, I think back to being pregnant with Georgia. I'd had so many dreams about what kind of mother I was going to be. I was unprepared for my firstborn's angry blotched face, the hard little gums that worked on my nipples until they blistered, the piercing cry that could call me into account at any second and find me wanting – until we were both bundles of rocking, trembling nervous exhaustion.

That's how Georgia taught me a lesson, slipping into the world with a love that insisted I put aside who I was and who I wasn't, urging me to forget the checks and balances. I slowly understood that the failures and the triumphs didn't mean a thing to her without an unbroken will just to try and try again.

And now that she's at the point of leaving us, I'm asking myself if I have been the mother I wanted to be, the mother she needed me to be. How well have I channelled this fierce, unbridled love? Could I have done anything else to equip her for life on her own, all grown up? Because although I can tell myself I'll always be there for her, I know that she won't always choose the safety net; sometimes she will brave the fall.

Whatever happens to all of us, the sun will keep spinning the seasons, nurturing the lakes and fells, casting its long, deep shadows and bestowing its steadfast light. All I can do is trust my daughter. It is her life, not mine, and she has her own choices to make. Inevitably, one day she will decide to leave us – breaking off a piece of my heart and taking it with her. When the time comes, my love will be captured in her freedom. My life will run beside hers, ever onward, out of sight.

M
y sincere thanks go first to Nick Owen and Jane Scott, who both took time out for a stranger who claimed to be writing a book. Jane took me on a tour around Windermere School, which was the inspiration for my own Fairbridge, and Nick showed me the Mountain Rescue HQ in Ambleside and spoke to me at length in person and via email to help me get my facts straight. Any errors that remain are my own.