Between Before and After (19 page)

She dropped her hand onto the fist he had balled tightly in his lap. “We’re here, we’re with you. You’re not alone in this.”

He continued to shake his head slowly, his body trembling. The fear and panic bubbled up inside him, dragging him under. Contrary to her assurances, alone was exactly how he felt.

Finn sat down on the sofa beside her, a nameless sixties compilation coming from the radiogram in the corner. Kate smiled at him, but her attention was torn between him and Max. They had agreed that the beer should stay where it was – in the boot of the Monaro. She knew that was the right thing to do – the whole exercise would have been futile otherwise. However, watching Max getting more and more desperate as the minutes ticked by was breaking her heart.

Finn found her hand and squeezed it. “Just try to relax.”

“I can’t.” She sank back into the sofa beside him. “Look at him.”

They were all on edge. Gavin sat beside the radiogram, trying to casually sift through the pile of albums. He kept glancing at Max, as if he was waiting for something. Lacey was sprawled on the other sofa, flipping through an ancient copy of New Idea from the bookshelf.

“We should play something,” Finn said, sitting forward. “Monopoly or Cluedo or something.”

“Great idea!” Lacey sat up, smiling, as if relieved to have something meaningful to do, finally.

“Gav?”

“Yup, I’m in.”

“Max?”

Max stood over by the breakfast bar, shuffling through the pile of tourist brochures stacked there.

“Earth to Max,” Finn said again.

“What?”

“You up for a game of something? Monopoly?” Finn prodded, standing up and heading for the bookshelf that held an assortment of games.

Max appeared to think about it for a moment before shaking his head irritably. “Not really.”

Kate stood up, an idea forming. “I’m not really in the mood for games, either. You guys play, though. Max, do you fancy a moonlit walk?”

Max considered it for a moment. “Okay.”

She threw a reassuring smile at Finn over her shoulder as she and Max made their way out into the cool night air. He shoved his hands into his pockets and she could feel the anxiety rolling off him. Perhaps a change of scenery might be just what he needed to take the edge off. She snaked her arm through his as they made their way over the lawn, the music drifting behind them until it was barely audible.

They strolled slowly through the darkness and she savoured the warmth of his body next to hers, unconsciously leaning towards him. The moon cast slashes of ghostly, silver light over everything except the water. It was black and still, with no ripples on the surface that the moonlight could glimmer off. In a flash of instant recall, she saw Finn launching the gun out into the water. A tremor ran through her, making the hair on the back of her neck stand on end.

“Are you cold?” he asked, peering down at her in the darkness.

“No. I’m okay.”

Reaching the edge of the sandy foreshore, the jetty loomed in front of them and they paused, huddling together as they stared out over the dark void. The night sky was alive with stars, pin-pricks in the fabric of the universe. She felt so small suddenly. As if reading her mind, Max drew her closer, gently releasing her arm in favour of draping it around her shoulders instead.

“You really scared me today,” she said.

She felt his body sigh as he stepped behind her, wrapping both arms around her and resting his chin on the top of her head.

“I’m sorry.”

She didn’t reply for a full minute, which felt like a hell of a lot longer. With each second drawn painfully out, her mind wandered.

“Do you remember how I was after Danny died?”

Her voice was barely louder than a whisper and she closed her eyes, leaning back against his chest. He didn’t reply, but she could feel him nodding.

“I think I was in shock,” she said, almost to herself. “All I tried to do was not think, not feel, because it all hurt too much. I didn’t want anything, I didn’t need anything – I didn’t care about anything.”

“I remember.”

“I just felt so hopeless. I didn’t want to get out of bed. I didn’t want to eat. I couldn’t sleep. I didn’t see the point in anything anymore. If it hadn’t been for you moving in and looking after me, I don’t know if I could have gotten through that. I’m not sure I’d be standing here now.”

“Don’t say that.”

“It’s true.”

“That wasn’t me, Katie – it was
you.
You did that – you dragged yourself through it, you were the one who was strong enough to fight it.”

“But that’s the thing – I wasn’t.” She turned to look up at him. “Not without you. You helped, you were my strength. You were
there
.”

“I was there, yeah, but – Jesus, I needed – “ He huffed out a frustrated breath and his arms fell away.

The chill was sudden and absolute. Goosebumps crawled over her body like a creeping vine, the pin-pricks they left sharp and painful. She reached for him, even as he took another step away from her.

“What? Tell me.”

She grabbed his arm and he stopped, staring at her hand.

“I’m not the chivalrous knight in shining armour you think I am,” he said.

She shivered – a full-body shiver this time – and it wasn’t because of what he had said. It was because of the way he had said it. Hopeless, desperate, heartbreaking.

“I needed to be with someone as much as you did,” he choked, glancing up at her finally. Tears shone in the moonlight and her heart raced. “I hate that house – I fucking hate it with a passion. Every time I walk in that door, he’s all I can see. But I couldn’t
not
be there because you needed me to be – you even told me that, do you remember? You begged me not to leave you alone.”

She could feel his body trembling, the vibrations travelling up through his arm to hers, transmitting the fear and the desperation through her fingertips into her own body. She could feel it feeding off him, getting stronger, hungrier, more desperate.

“So I stayed,” he whispered. “And I sat in that living room and I stared at that stain on the carpet and I could see every little mark on that wall, even through the new wallpaper. I listened to you through the bedroom wall, and I heard you crying yourself to sleep at night. I heard you playing the voicemail message on his cellphone over and over again until I wanted to break that door down and rip it out of your hands.”

She took a shuddering breath. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. You needed to do all of that – you had to get it out of your system, I get that. Somewhere deep down, you must’ve known that you had to put yourself through that so you could move on without him, but I never did. I still don’t know what my process is, how I’m supposed to deal with all this shit in my head. I don’t know what to do with it, I don’t know how to get rid of it.”

She tasted salt on her lips as she sniffed back more tears. “That might be true, about working through it, but you were part of that for me, Max. I’m serious – I couldn’t have gone through any of that without you. You gave me the strength – I knew that you were there and that even if I wanted to let go, you wouldn’t let me fall. That’s how it works sometimes. You can’t do everything alone. Sometimes, even though you don’t want to take it, or you can’t ask for it, you need help. That’s what Danny didn’t understand, did he? I think he felt like he had to do it all on his own, but it doesn’t work that way. There’s no shame in asking for help, in accepting it. Let me help you – let
us
help you.”

She squeezed his arm and pulled him closer, wrapping her arms around him.

“Please? Just let me in – let all of us in, because we love you. We don’t want to see you like this anymore, it hurts too much.”

She could feel his ragged breathing as he fought for control.

“Please don’t give up. We need you –
I
need you. Please?”

They stood there for several minutes, locked in a silent embrace. Her heart felt like it was breaking. She wished she had had the chance to have the same conversation with Danny. She wondered what he would have said.

Max stood in front of the bathroom mirror and stared at himself miserably. He hardly recognised the face staring back at him. With his shaggy hair, a week’s worth of stubble and black smudges under his eyes, he looked like a drug addict coming down off a week-long high. No wonder everyone was looking at him strangely. When did it get this bad? The answer came to him almost immediately: when he had stopped looking at himself properly in the mirror.

He was avoiding
himself
.

He sighed heavily, bowing his head and bracing himself on the edge of the sink. He stared down at the porcelain. After that talk with Kate, what he needed was a drink. More to the point, what he needed was several drinks, preferably whisky or something equally as strong, and in quick succession. But that wasn’t going to happen. The bottle he had stashed in the boat shed was long gone after the scuffle with Finn. He cursed himself for not having more than one emergency bottle. He wished his heart would stop racing. He wanted a cold shower – his skin was on fire. His eyes felt like he had been rubbing them with sandpaper. He needed to sleep. He closed his eyes, just for a second. 

His knees buckled and he felt himself falling. Grabbing hold of the edge of the sink, he jerked himself awake, blinking violently. No, he didn’t need to sleep. He needed to stay awake. He quickly thrust his hands under the cold water and splashed his face, desperately trying to wake himself up. Soaking a cloth and laying it on the back of his neck, he relished the icy feel of it against his skin.  He felt like he was burning up from the inside, out. He didn’t dare close his eyes again.

Staring at himself in the mirror, he was disgusted. He was falling apart – worse still, he was doing it with an audience. He tilted his chin defiantly, making a concerted effort to pull himself together, both mentally and physically.

“Suck it up,” he hissed at his reflection through clenched teeth.

A soft knock at the door sent his heart racing.

Finn’s voice carried through the door. “Hey, everything alright in there?”

Max cleared his throat and dragged the cloth off the back of his neck reluctantly. “Fine. Be right out.”

He took another deep breath and held it for a moment as his lungs inflated. Then he exhaled, slowly and carefully.  Dropping the cloth onto the sink, he squared his shoulders and opened the door. Finn was waiting for him, leaning against the wall opposite the bathroom, hands behind his back. 

“You okay?” Finn asked.

His head felt like it was on fire, he could hardly think straight. There was a pain right behind his eyes and his stomach was on a spin cycle. He hadn’t felt this bad in a long time. He wished he could vocalise all this to Finn, but he didn’t seem to be able to speak. Instead, frustrated tears stung his eyes.

“Come on,” Finn said, draping an arm around his shoulder and steering him slowly towards the living room. He felt trapped. Frustration at not being able to keep a lid on his problems, the obvious worry he was causing, the desperate desire to find a way out of all of this pressed down on him until he could barely breathe.

He slumped down into the armchair he had vacated earlier, staring at the fresh cup of coffee on the table in front of him. He knew he needed it in the absence of alcohol, but the thought of more coffee turned his stomach.

“It’s okay,” Kate soothed gently, on her knees in front of him.

He stared at her. She was worried. It was his fault. He was weak. He couldn’t do this. Why couldn’t he do this? Why wasn’t he strong enough? Why did he need a drink so badly? Why couldn’t he just forget what happened that day? Why couldn’t he move on with his life, just like everyone else had? What was wrong with him?

“No,” He shook his head as the tears finally tumbled down his cheeks. “It’s not.” 

He hung his head and his fingers burrowed deep into his hair, grabbing it by the roots and pulling.

“Hey, come on,” Kate’s hands covered his, her fingers gently but firmly prising his loose. 

He gave in to her almost immediately, too tired to fight anymore. He stared at her, a violent tremor running through him as he silently begged her for help. His body shook with tension, his muscles taut, his pulse racing. He felt like he was about to explode.

Kate carefully wrapped her arms around him, drawing him close. He closed his eyes as exhaustion overwhelmed him, the kind of exhaustion that creeps into your bones and makes you want to just curl up and sleep, regardless of the consequences. The kind of exhaustion that he had been fighting for three years. God, how he was tired of fighting it. He was tired of the constant questions. He was tired of the nightmares. He was tired of endlessly reliving that day. He was tired of protecting everyone. He didn’t care anymore. He just wanted it to be over.

A hand squeezed his shoulder and he opened his eyes to see Finn standing over him. Lacey was sitting on the floor at his feet and Gavin perched on the coffee table behind her. He could feel their desire to help like a blanket thrown over him, trying to comfort him, to block out the chill. He wanted to let it envelop him; he wanted to bury himself in it.

“Talk to us. Please?” Lacey pleaded.

His heart raced, thumping in his chest, stealing his breath. “I don’t know where to start.”