Crashing Down (15 page)

Exams.

Lucy can't sleep. She understands now what Pink Floyd meant by
comfortably numb.
As numb as this means feeling nothing. Her mind has left her body and is pursuing all different lines of thought. And her body sits there, gestating. She looks around
the lounge room. Lydia is like a coiled cat in the armchair and Georgia is stretched out on a mattress on the floor.

Lucy gets off the couch and goes into her dad's kitchen. She turns on the tap for a glass of water, which she drinks slowly. Sees Dad in the darkened window.

‘Can't sleep?' he says. ‘Milo?'

She nods and sits on the stool. ‘Exams next week. Can you believe it? It's one thing after another.'

‘Forget about it. You don't have to sit them,' Dad says, boiling the kettle. ‘I haven't had a chance to tell you, but Mr Cruz rang earlier. They're waiving them. Curriculum Council will give you special consideration for the finals in a month, too.'

Lucy exhales. ‘What does that mean?' She doesn't have to sit exams? The idea had never occurred to her.

‘If you're not fit to sit them in a month, they'll work out an ATAR based on your academic record. They have special conditions for circumstances like these.'

‘Okay.' Lucy nods. ‘That's a relief. There's no way I could do them.'

‘I know. No one would expect it of you.' Dad passes her the Milo. ‘How do you feel?'

‘Bizarre.' Lucy shrugs. ‘I don't know — scared.'

‘Scared?'

‘Of what could happen next.' Lucy's tears come back. ‘Just when you think nothing worse could happen, it does. I don't understand why. Is this karma? Is it because I'm planning on getting rid of a baby? Am I being punished?' She feels hysterical.

‘No.' Dad puts his arms around her. ‘Shhh, it's not karma. It's not divine intervention. It's life, that's all. And sometimes it sucks.'

‘I'm so tired, Dad,' she muffles into his chest.

‘Me too,' he says. ‘Come on, I'll tuck you in.'

When Lucy wakes the next morning, she's confused. Something monumental has happened, but there's a gap in her memory.
Like Carl's,
she thinks.
Carl.
She puts her hands to her mouth. Carl is dead.

She finds her dad downstairs on the phone. He hangs up and looks really worried.
I knew it, knew there would be something worse,
Lucy thinks. Panic sets in again.

‘What is it now?' Her hands are shaking.

‘The Kapulettis are coming over,' he says, his mouth turned down.

‘Why?' She feels an edge of hysteria. Are they going to blame her? She upset Carl and he died. Are they coming to point the finger?

‘They said they wanted to talk.' Dad frowns and Lucy knows he's worried. ‘I'll see where Mum is.'

Lydia and Georgia leave; they have a study group that afternoon.

‘You're so lucky,' Lydia says, hugging her. ‘I wish I could get out of exams, too.'

‘Lydia!' Georgia chastises. ‘Lucy would rather sit the exams than go through this shit.'

‘Yeah, I know, sorry,' Lydia mumbles. ‘I didn't mean that.'

‘I know.' Lucy hugs them both.

‘Love you,' they both say as they leave.

Lucy is indescribably nervous. She listens to her parents talking in the other room, bolstered by their presence and unwavering support. She feels lucky when she thinks of them. Things could be worse; at least she's not alone.

The sound of the Kapulettis' Alfa makes bile rise in her throat. There's no food in her stomach — she gags at the sight and smell of food. She might be pregnant but she knows she's losing weight from every part of her except her massive boobs.

She hears Carl's parents come in, Dad offering
coffee. The whirr and grind of the machine.
Be brave.
She walks into the room.

Carl's parents are devastated. They sit slumped and broken in the armchairs.

Lucy bursts into tears and runs to Mrs K. ‘I'm so sorry' is all she can say.

‘I know, cara mia.' Mrs K strokes her head. She smells like basil. ‘I know. My heart is broken in three.'

‘Lucy …' Mr K holds his arms open. He is weeping, too. ‘You loved Carl. You did everything you could to help him. We know.'

It takes a while to pull away from Mr K, his hold is so tight. But eventually she does and sits next to her mum, who strokes her hair. Tissues are passed around like a plate of biscuits.

‘Carlo tell us of the baby,' Mrs K says. Her voice wavers. ‘He tells us he want baby. You don't want baby, Lucinda.'

Lucy nods. What is there to say?

‘We say no to Carlo. A baby born out of wedlock is bastardo. He was so angry. He said his head hurts. I want to call nurse. He says no. He says he marries you, Lucinda — so no bastardo. We say you are too young to have babies. He says too late. He wants
his baby. We know it is not right not to have God's baby, but we say no to him.' Mrs K pulls out an embroidered handkerchief and wipes her eyes. ‘We told him he must listen to what you want, Lucinda. He cannot make decision.' Mrs K can't speak anymore — she is wracked with sobs.

‘Carl was so angry with us. Screaming. Swearing. His head was hurting so much. He kept grabbing it.' Mr K holds his own head. ‘I said I'd call a nurse. And then he grabbed me. He tried to stop me. He was so angry.' Mr K shows his wrist, where a bruise circles it like a bracelet. ‘He was so strong. And then he just stopped. Let go of my hand. Collapsed.'

Mr K weeps loudly. Mum gets up and puts an arm around him.

‘We called the nurses. We called the doctors. They came. But it was too late. Carl died. There, in front of our eyes. My son.'

‘My son,' Mrs K wails, echoing.

The room is so thick with emotion, it is hard to breathe. Lucy buries her face in her dad's chest. She wants to muffle the words. Doesn't want to hear anymore. Especially when she hears what Mrs K says next.

‘Now our Carlo gone. Sleeping with the angels. He such a good son. And you have his baby. Lucinda, cara mia la bella. You need to have his baby. For us. For our Carlo. So he live on.'

Lucy sits in her bedroom at Mum's. She'd had to leave Dad's, with the Kapulettis still there. She couldn't bear their pain. The pleading with her to save their grandchild. She blinks back tears. She'd heard Dad rationalising the decision with them. She knew he'd put forward her case better than she could. She feels so guilty, so responsible and yet also so irresponsible.

Light plays across the wall — she's left the window and blinds open slightly. She remembers Carl coming in through that window. How some nights, he'd jog through the streets to her house. He'd tap, and she'd open the window. In the beginning, it was just to be together, listening to music and talking. But more recently he'd just come over wanting sex. She
squeezes her eyes shut tightly. If she'd said no, she wouldn't be in this mess. Maybe some of it — maybe Carl would still have crashed the car. Maybe not. Who knows? In some parallel universe, is a non-pregnant Lucy getting up to sit her next exam? Is Carl alive? Is JD walking around unharmed? She wants to blame Carl — make him responsible. But the debater in her won't allow that when she knows she wanted it too. But they'd only done it five times. Five times! It was so unfair. What about Cheryl Hicks, the skank? She boffed everyone and never got pregnant. But then maybe she knew what she was doing. Was on the pill. Why hadn't she, Lucy, gone on the pill?

Her computer makes a noise. Someone is Skyping her. Emma.

‘Hey,' she says, seeing her sister's face appear.

‘Luce …' Her sister has been crying. ‘I'm so sorry.'

‘I know,' Lucy says, and immediately their last conversation is forgotten. She talks to Emma for nearly an hour about Carl and what happened.

‘I owe you an apology,' Emma says eventually.

‘It's all good,' Lucy says — she doesn't want to revisit the last chat.

‘It's not,' Emma says, shaking her head. ‘There's
something I have to tell you.'

‘What?' Lucy frowns, wipes her nose, so red and raw.

‘I was pregnant, too,' Emma says.

‘What!' Lucy is poleaxed. ‘When?'

‘When I was with Graham.'

‘Why didn't you tell me?' Lucy feels betrayed. She thought they'd shared everything.

‘I wanted the baby, but Graham didn't. He wanted me to have an abortion.' Emma shakes her head.

‘What happened?' Lucy says. ‘Who knew?'

‘Mum and Dad.' Emma is crying again. ‘Don't be upset, I begged them not to tell you. I didn't want you to know. I was ashamed. I got the pills and lost the baby. It was awful, Luce. I hated myself. But he was going to leave me if I had it. And I wanted him so much.'

‘Oh, Emma.' Lucy touches the screen.

Her sister does the same.

‘Afterwards I was so low. So depressed. I thought all the time about this baby. I was a murderer. I hated myself. I hated Graham more.'

‘But you stayed with him,' Lucy says.

‘I had to.' Emma shrugs. ‘I'd given up my baby for
him. I had to make it work. But then I caught him in bed with Susan and that was it. I realised I was wasting my time. My life. Dad bought me the ticket, sent me here.'

‘Are you okay?' Lucy asks, incredulous.

‘Every day I get better. And when you told me you were pregnant, I was frightened for you — that you would experience exactly the same feelings. Depression is such a bitch. But I was wrong to impose my views on you. Our situations are totally different. I completely understand why you have to do it. And it will be so different for you. You're so much more level than me. So much cooler. Calmer.'

They talk for a while longer and then sign off. Emma promises to call the next day.

Lucy walks down the stairs. Her sister had an abortion. Now she understands Emma's response, everything she'd said, and about Dad. More information to process in a brain that feels like it's about to explode. The thought immediately makes her cringe and grasp the railing for support. Carl is dead!

Her mum sees her and rushes towards her.

‘Lucy, Lucy,' she says, gathering her in her arms. ‘It'll be alright.'

They sit on the steps, hugging each other tightly.

‘How, Mum?' Lucy sniffles. ‘How is any of this going to be alright?'

Her mum has no reply.

Later that day her dad turns up.

‘How did it end up?' Lucy asks, referring to the Kapulettis' visit.

Dad shrugs. ‘Not good. Morella is grief-stricken — can't see that her thinking is totally irrational. Thinks that this is God's plan. To take Carl and replace him with another child. Antonio seemed to agree with most of what I said, but at this point I think he wants to go along with Morella.'

‘What now?' Lucy asks.

‘Sleep, Rabbit. I've brought you some medicine. And right now that's what you need. A really good sleep.'

She looks at the pills, considers fleetingly what they might do to the baby.

Her dad, as if reading her thoughts, nods. ‘It's okay.'

She swallows them and tries to rid the voice that whispers
What does it matter anyway?

Lucy looks at the clock: it's just after 9 a.m. She's been asleep for nearly thirty-six hours. She has woken several times, got up to go to the toilet, had a few glasses of water, but felt so groggy, wasted. She thinks she should feel better now, yet she's still exhausted.

She moves down the stairs.

‘Hi,' she calls out to her mum in the kitchen.

‘You okay?' Mum appears in the doorway. ‘Dad's just left.'

‘Dad stayed the night?' Another bizarre twist.

‘On the couch, the last two nights,' her mum says. ‘He wanted to be here if you woke up and couldn't cope.' She sounds like a naughty teenager explaining
her actions. ‘You were pretty zonked. Feeling better?'

Lucy nods. Everything is still upside down, and almost laughable. ‘I'm hungry,' she says, surprised.

‘Good,' her mum says, smiling. ‘I'll make you something.'

‘Nah, I'm good. Think I'll just have some cereal.'

There's a knock at the door. Her mum passes her in the hallway as Lucy heads for the kitchen.

‘I'll get it,' she says cheerily, but there's worry on her face. Why wouldn't there be? Every time there's a knock or a phone call, they brace themselves.

Well, Lucy thinks, what else can possibly happen?
Serve it to me, universe. Hit me with your best shot.

She's pouring cornflakes into a bowl. ‘Who was it?' she asks her mother.

‘Oh.' Her mum is white and pulling out her mobile from her hip pocket. In her other hand is a folded pile of papers. ‘It was a process server.'

‘A what?' Lucy eyes the cornflakes warily — her stomach is flipping out.

‘A process server — works for a lawyer. They've just served papers on me as your legal guardian.' Mum is hitting a contact. It's Dad.

‘Who has?' Lucy says, knowing straightaway the answer.

‘The Kapulettis.'

‘What for?' Lucy's mind has leapt ahead — but it can't be right. There's no way.

‘To stop the abortion.' Mum holds the phone to her ear. ‘They've taken out a legal injunction against you.'

The universe aces it.

Lucy stares out the window as they head into the city. Dad has called a lawyer and they are meeting him in fifteen minutes. Legal action — it's all they've got. Or not having the abortion. But that isn't the issue right now. The issue is bigger than her. How can the Kapulettis force her into having a baby? How can anyone demand that of a person? The arguments are endless.

And while they argue, the foetus grows. How long can they prevent her? What if the action takes long enough that it's too late for an abortion even if she wins? And then they've won. Then she's been forced into having a baby she doesn't want. Then she's lost rights over her body — her life. It's difficult
to control the panic.