Chapter 4: Chapter Four

The tube in her throat hurt. She wanted to pull it out, but someone held tightly onto her hand. Her head pulsated with a crushing pain that became excruciating when she moved—or tried to open her eyes. Every inch of her body ached. It felt heavy and uncoordinated, like it wasn’t hers.

Tabitha heard someone call her name. The voice scratched in her ears and seared through her brain. She thought she recognized it, but she couldn’t get her brain to focus. She abandoned her attempt to wake up, and lay still.

“Tabitha, darling. Wake up. Speak to me.”

She heard the voice again. It grated through her head, persistent but somehow soothing in its pain. Maybe she wasn’t dead after all. Gradually she became aware of others around her. Touching her, pushing and poking her. She tried to pull away, but found it just too hard. So she remained motionless and submitted to whatever ministrations came her way.

“Tabitha, can you hear me?”

A stranger’s voice now. She tried to speak, but the tube in her throat stopped her.

“We’re going to take the tube out now, Tabitha. Can you hear me?”

This time Tabitha braved the slicing pain and moved her head ever so slightly.

“Good girl.”

A moment of scraping pain in her throat, the sensation of choking, and as she gagged slightly, the tube was gone. There was still something protruding from her nostrils, but that didn’t hurt.

“How about you open your eyes, young lady, so we can see that you’re actually awake.”

“Can’t. It hurts too much,” Tabitha croaked.

“Try.” The stranger’s voice was insistent.

“I’m not dead, am I?” She rasped out the question she already knew the answer to.

“No, Tabitha. Did you really want to be dead?” Again the stranger’s voice. This time it was gentle and soothing.

“Yes… No…” She was so confused she stopped speaking. She didn’t know the answer to that question right now.

“Open your eyes,” the stranger instructed.

Tabitha sensed the voice would not leave her in peace unless she did. She didn’t want to. How could she face her parents? To see the censure in their eyes—the censure and the hurt. Her lungs burned and clenched as she struggled with the choking sobs caught in her chest. How could she have done this to her parents? Hot tears pushed their way out from beneath her lids and ran in salty trails down her cheeks.

“Tabitha, darling, open your eyes. Everything is fine, love. Open your eyes, please.”

Her mother didn’t sound angry. Teary and pleading, but not angry.

As if tearing them from her eyeballs, Tabitha forced her lids up. She turned and looked straight into her mother’s face. “I’m sorry, Mom. I’m so sorry.”

Tabitha saw the tears pouring down her mother’s face, her reddened eyes and pale cheeks. Her mother smiled through the tears as she leaned in to hug her.

“I’m sorry, my darling, for not being there, for not doing more. Your dad and I love you so much and we’ve let you down…” Her mother’s voice was not much more than a whisper.

“I didn’t want to hurt you, Mom, but I just couldn’t do it anymore. I couldn’t make it stop—no one could. You haven’t let me down—I’ve let you down…” Tabitha squeezed her mother’s hand as she protested her parents’ responsibility.

“No, you haven’t. Now, shhhh. Let’s just get you better and back home. We’ll work it all out, you’ll see.” Her mom stroked her forehead lightly, brushing stray hair off her face.

Tabitha shook her head. “I don’t see how, Mom…” Fresh, hot tears bubbled up. Her nose dribbled. Someone handed her a tissue.

She looked up at the woman standing on the opposite side of the bed—a rotund, middle-aged, gray-haired woman in a neat taupe suit. Her spectacles were thick and round. They made her look like a startled owl.

“Listen to your mother, Tabitha. We can work this out.”

“Who’re you?” Tabitha asked the woman.

“I’m a psychologist. I’m going to help you and your parents find a solution.”

“Really? Well, good luck.” Tabitha stared hard at the psychologist. “Lots of people have already tried and failed. Now please, will you all go away? I’m tired and I have a splitting headache.” She closed her eyes.

“Tabitha, Dr. Gause is trying to help.”

Tabitha heard the pleading in her mother’s voice, but she was beyond responding to it.

“It’s all right, Lillian. I think Tabitha needs some rest. Tabitha, I’ll be back later.”

Tabitha didn’t respond to either of them. She hid behind her eyelids. She waited. Finally they left, and she was alone. The weight of existence bore down on her as she lay there with her eyes closed long after they’d gone. Nothing had changed. She had failed to escape. Amelia was still out there. Amelia would be waiting. All her failed suicide had done was give Amelia more ammunition and hurt her parents, terribly. She had proven herself a failure—at life and at death.

* * * *

Sometime later Tabitha sensed Alex’s presence, but she was afraid to open her eyes. How could she face Alex after what she’d done? She wondered if he viewed her attempt to kill herself as a rejection of his love, the one good thing in her life at the moment. But for how long—especially now?

Tabitha heard him sit on the chair by the bed and felt his weight as he leaned on the blankets and took her hand in his. His skin was warm, the calluses on his palms from working with the horses rubbing her palm.

“Tabitha, I’m here for you,” he murmured. He kissed her hand, then sat there in silence for a long moment before he spoke again. “Tabitha, this doesn’t change how I feel, please open your eyes and talk to me. I love you.”

She hesitated for a short moment then opened her eyes.

Alex smiled. “At last, you’re awake. I’ve been so worried.” He leaned in and kissed her lightly.

The touch of his mouth was the sweetest thing she had ever experienced. Tears welled in her eyes. If she had died, she would have never experienced his kisses again. What had she been thinking?

“Don’t cry, Tabitha. We’ll work this all out. Just promise me you won’t do that again.”

She shook her head slightly. “I won’t, Alex, I promise, but I don’t know how to go on, how to face everyone. It was bad enough before.”

He leaned in and kissed her again. “Never mind the others, Tabitha, you’ve got me.”

She smiled and nodded, but knew even as she did that Alex’s love alone would not be enough. There was something else she needed, and she wasn’t even sure what it was.

* * * *

Her sessions with Dr. Gause were excruciating, especially when her parents attended. Their obvious guilt about what had happened made Tabitha squirm. It wasn’t their fault, it was hers. At first when Dr. Gause encouraged them to talk, all her mother did was cry. Tabitha came away with more strategies—strategies she knew wouldn’t work—and a deep sense of cynicism. Dr. Gause had gone to the Eckerton house and spoken briefly to Amelia and her parents about her role in Tabitha’s suicide attempt. Amelia’s response to Dr. Gause’s concerns had been to laugh and say, ‘Tell the princess to toughen up.’ Her parents had dismissed Dr. Gause and completely denied any responsibility on Amelia’s part. They didn’t even move in the same social circle after all, so why would Amelia concern herself with one such as Tabitha Cockell? As Tabitha’s sessions continued, her mother insisted it all stemmed from the ballet concert when both girls had been changed from fairies to other characters because they didn’t conform to the ballet teacher’s notion of what a ballerina should look like. Tabitha had been deemed too fat and Amelia too tall. Tabitha remembered the all-out bitter confrontation her mother had had with the teacher over it. Tabitha had remained a fairy for the concert, but had never gone back to ballet the next term. Amelia’s mother had just shrugged acceptance at the last rehearsal when told of the change to her daughter’s role in the concert. In the end, Amelia had been too distraught to take her place on stage and her angry mother had hustled her out of the hall. At the time Tabitha had felt sorry for her.

Despite the fact that nothing could be confirmed in Amelia’s absence, Dr. Gause was convinced that her problem with Tabitha had started with the concert. But on further probing, Tabitha soon recalled plenty of instances where Amelia had ranted at her about being spoiled, a mommy’s girl and a crybabt during school events when Amelia had had to participate without parental support. In bitter tones Tabitha had told Dr. Gause how over the years the taunts had become constant and more generic with Amelia rubbishing Tabitha about anything and everything. “I would suggest, Tabitha, that Amelia is jealous of you because you had what she wanted so badly—parental participation.”

“But I’m not to blame for that. Shouldn’t she be angry at her parents?” Tabitha protested.

Dr. Gause leaned forward and gave a sad smile. “You’re not to blame, but you were an easier target than her parents. I’ve met them and her father is quite intimidating. And her mother? Well, let’s just say she’s not very maternal.”

“That’s still not fair,” Tabitha wailed.

Dr. Gause closed the file in front of her. “I know, Tabitha, but there are a lot of things in life that are not fair. You have to find the strength within to deal with life’s hard lessons. I’m here to help, along with your parents.”

* * * *

At last she was released from hospital. Tabitha came home. Nothing had changed. She was still trapped in her own private hell. A hell orchestrated by her nemesis. A nemesis no one knew how to stop. Her parents’ care seemed almost suffocating, unquestioningly supportive and protective, and many times Tabitha wanted to scream at them to get out of her face, but she never did. She loved them. They really cared and only wanted to help. She knew they loved her, but all that love could not banish her nightmare. In desperation, she retreated to her room—to her bed. It was safe in bed.

Jaclyn had rung to speak with her, but she’d refused to take her calls. She couldn’t bear any link to the outside world, particularly to the college and Amelia. Besides, she felt such a fool—one, for trying to kill herself, and two, for failing. Facing what everyone was thinking but not saying was beyond her coping ability at the moment. She didn’t know whether to be angry at Alex for dragging her back to her miserable life or glad that he had saved her from dying. They hadn’t discussed it, and with him away at a racing carnival in the country, she hadn’t seen him since she’d been discharged from hospital. She knew they would have to have a ‘talk’ about her suicide attempt, but she wasn’t ready just yet. Although she missed him terribly, she was glad she had some time alone to work things out in her head. Most people were sympathetic and wanted to help, but a few seemed uncomfortable with what had happened and stayed away from her and her parents. It all made her feel guilty, but she couldn’t bring herself to face the world.

* * * *

Being curled up in her bed, with the wind and rain lashing the window outside, made her feel cocooned and safe. She had successfully avoided almost all human contact for the past week. With the storm, it was unlikely anyone would come to visit, only to be turned away by her long-suffering mother. She could relax. Tabitha knew her hibernation frustrated her mom, but nevertheless she remained, at all times, supportive and sympathetic. It drove Tabitha insane. She didn’t know what she wanted from her parents, but their sympathy wasn’t it. Perhaps if they had railed, yelled at her or made demands of her, she would have felt better. She didn’t know, because having crawled into her hole, she didn’t have the strength to find her way out again. All the time, her nemesis loomed huge in her mind. Ever-present, hovering, in the background—yet to be faced.

She opened her eyes to deep blackness. Outside the wind howled and the rain and hail lashed at the window, but it wasn’t the sounds of the storm that had woken her. A noise she didn’t recognize rose above the commotion of the wild weather—an agonized screech, a snap, a thud and a high-pitched groan. Tabitha sat up with a jerk as a swathe of leaves swept past her window, scratching against the glass and ripping her fly screen from its frame. She leaped from the bed and ran to the window just in time to see the majestic gum that had graced their front garden tumble, in slow motion, onto the garage roof. Tortured sheets of corrugated iron on the roof twisted and screamed and in response the branches snapped and split open to reveal the pink-red wood inside. Wet, gray-green foliage whipped and danced in the turbulence of the wind. The garage groaned under its unexpected burden then with a slow grace collapsed sideways until the weight of the tree rested on the family car and her dad’s carefully restored Corvette. Fortunately her mother’s car had been parked around the other side of the house.

Her father bellowed. The front door slammed. He appeared from under the veranda, dressed only in his pajamas. The rain drenched him as he stepped down off the second step, and clutching his head with his hands, he stared at the devastation of his garage. Tabitha felt his pain. Poor Dad. But then, they were lucky it hadn’t been the house. They might have all been killed. It hit her then, with a sudden sharp pain—the meaning of death. How easily it could come, and how permanent it would be. For the first time since her suicide attempt, Tabitha felt glad she had survived.

She pulled on some track pants and a sweatshirt and hurried down the passage. Her dad had just come inside. He was saturated, his distorted features reflecting the devastation she guessed he was feeling. Tabitha suspected tears would be pouring down his cheeks if it weren’t for the rain on his face. He didn’t resist as her mom pushed him toward the shower.

“Get dry, Aaron. I’ll call the State Emergency Service and see if they can come and deal with it. Tabitha, make your dad…no, all of us, a hot chocolate and turn the heater up. It could be a long night.”

For the first time in many weeks, Tabitha could empathize with another person’s distress. Her poor dad. He loved that car, so carefully restored by his own hand, using what little money he could save from their meager budget.

* * * *

It was beginning to get light by the time the State Emergency Service volunteers pulled up in a huge truck and a four-wheel drive. Rain still fell, lightly now, but the wind had dropped to almost nothing. It was freezing outside. Tabitha watched through the front window as her father discussed the accident with a tall, heavy-built man in very dirty orange overalls. It was brief after which her father returned to the shelter of the veranda and the man in orange overalls returned to the truck. Curious about what had been decided, Tabitha pulled on her coat and slipped out the front door.

Her father looked down at her as she came to stand silently beside him. “Go inside, Tabitha. It’s cold and wet out here and there is nothing you can do.”

“What’s happening, Dad?” she asked.

Her father looked surprised at her question, and Tabitha almost smiled. He had the right to be shocked, seeing it was the first interest she’d shown in the world since being released from hospital. It felt good to care even just a little about someone else’s hurt above her own. Perhaps there is hope for me yet.

“They’re going to cut the tree up and remove it from the roof. If they can, they’ll prop up the garage to get the cars out. If there’s too much damage, I’ll have to pay for professional demolition and rebuilding.”

“The tree is huge, Dad, and some of it’s over the house. At least the house is okay and Mom’s car’s not damaged.”

“Don’t worry, Tabitha. These guys are fully trained. Apparently they’ve been out for half the night doing rescue jobs like this. Maybe you and your mom would like to make hot drinks and some food in a while? I bet they’re not only cold and wet, but hungry.”

Tabitha turned to look as the crunch of heavy boots broke the quiet of the early morning. She watched with interest as ten people in orange overalls advanced up the drive. They had helmets with lights, and two had chainsaws and what looked like green cowboy chaps on, while another couple had poles, huge spotlights and extension cords. Behind them came two more—one tall and skinny with a cheeky grin, and the other, a woman, small and slight in build. They both wore climbing harnesses. She also carried a pole with a small chainsaw on top and wore green chaps. A little behind the first six were four others carrying two ladders between them. The first team was obviously two more women, one slim and elegant with a tangle of red hair poking out from under her helmet and the other a robust young woman at least a dress size bigger than Tabitha.

She couldn’t help staring at these apparitions in orange as they went to work. The small woman scurried up the ladder, secured herself to ropes held by others, and took the small saw on a pole from her partner. He scrambled up behind her. Even as he hooked himself onto the safety ropes, the woman had already started the saw and proceeded to slice through the smaller branches that lay across the roof of the house. He hauled them away from her work area, and after yelling ‘below’ loudly, he pushed them off the roof.

The roar of chainsaws, the smell of fuel and freshly cut foliage and timber scented the air. A light rain misted the area and blue smoke drifted from the saws as they gouged and sliced through the tree. All those in orange not using the chainsaws or holding ropes steadily moved the severed branches out of the way of the cutters. The tall man who had first spoken to her father watched, occasionally giving orders for adjustments to ropes or which branch should be cut next.

Tabitha stood on the veranda, absolutely absorbed by the industry and teamwork before her. Her gaze returned again and again to the woman on the roof. She and her partner had swapped roles with him cutting branches and she removing them. The house roof was almost cleared of debris. There was a long way to go before they would be finished, and already it was fully light.

“Tabitha, can you help me? I thought the volunteers out there would like some breakfast.”

“Sure, Mom.”

Half an hour later, Tabitha carried a tray piled high with bacon and egg sandwiches out to the veranda. Her mother followed with hot drinks while her father advised the tall guy that refreshments were available.

Tabitha had barely set the tray down before she was surrounded by people in orange. She straightened up and looked directly into the sparkling blue eyes of the young woman from the roof.

She grinned back at Tabitha. “You guys are great to provide breakfast. Thanks,” she said.

“Glad we can help… I didn’t know they had women in the SES,” Tabitha blurted out.

The young woman laughed. “They couldn’t do without us—could you, Jesse?” she asked as she slapped the arm of the tall, skinny young man beside her, wolfing down a sandwich.

“You bet, Mighty Mouse.”

Tabitha looked from one to the other. “Mighty Mouse?” she asked.

The young woman laughed again. “It’s my nickname, but my real name is Isabella,” she said, still chuckling as she pulled off her grimy glove and held out her hand to Tabitha.

Tabitha looked at it for a moment then took the offered hand in a firm grip. “Nice to meet you, Isabella. How many women do you have doing this stuff?”

Isabella emptied her mouth first, then said, “Eight, I think. We all love it, and we get treated equally to the blokes. Are you interested in joining up?”

Tabitha almost cringed away, but at the same time some sort of tug worked inside her. An urge she’d never been aware of before—an urge to do something exciting, like this. “Maybe,” she whispered as sudden panic launched inside her at being vulnerable to another person. A stranger.

“Think about it then. Here’s the unit phone number, or just come up and I’ll show you around. Wednesday night at seven,” Isabella said.

Tabitha could barely grip the card in trembling fingers. How had she allowed her guard to drop so easily—to leave her open to ridicule? She began to mentally retreat, to hide her interest before she got rejected. “I don’t have any skills. I wouldn’t be of any use,” she said.

“Don’t need skills—probably better that way, then we can teach you the right way to do things. The SES way,” Jesse mumbled through the last bite of his second sandwich. “So what’s your name anyway?”

“Tabitha Cockell. I’m studying vet nursing at college.”

“Hey, that would be useful when we do animal rescues.” Tabitha turned to face the woman who spoke. Her red hair tumbled down into an untidy bush as she removed her helmet.

She smiled as she pulled her gloves off and held out her hand. “I’m Louise,” she said.

Tabitha took the hand held out in greeting. “You do animal rescue?”

Louise tugged off her other glove and reached for a sandwich. “Sometimes, but mostly storm and flood damage, searches for people and things, and sometimes rescues on cliffs,” she said.

“Okay, guys, back to work. Johnno and Eddie, on the chainsaws this time. Tim, you get Big Bertha from the truck. We’re going to need her to cut through the trunk.” The tall, heavy-built man in charge was already pulling on his gloves and helmet as he issued orders.

After a chorus of several different voices providing thanks for breakfast, the veranda was empty once again. The air almost immediately filled with the smells of oil, working motors and cut timber. You couldn’t hear anything much over the roar and scream of the chainsaws, but the crew worked with military precision to demolish the majestic tree that had destroyed the Cockell garage.

An hour later all that was left were piles of branches, cut logs and the huge root ball of the tree, with a hundred waving root arms wrapped in half a ton of red clay soil. Soon that was also reduced to blocks of timber.

The garage was unsalvageable and would need a professional to clear the rubble before the cars could be retrieved. With that decision made, the tall man instructed the crew to pack up. Like little orange ants, they worked to shut motors down, dismantle lights, lower ladders and return everything to the truck. They looked exhausted, but no one slacked, and within forty minutes there was no sign of any equipment. Some of the crew had already climbed into the truck.

Tabitha saw Isabella and Louise coming toward her. Their overalls were dark orange with rain, and black in places with dirt and grease. Their faces were covered in sawdust and sweat. Both women looked like they had been through a tornado, with their sweaty hair sticking out in all directions, but they didn’t seem to care. They looked tired but satisfied.

“Thanks again for the refreshments, Mr. and Mrs. Cockell. It’s much appreciated and helped us get through. Tabitha, please think about joining us. You’d enjoy it, I can assure you. Remember, Wednesday night—just rock up,” Louise said.

Isabella waggled her finger toward Tabitha. “We will expect you,” she said.

“I’ll think about it,” Tabitha responded quietly.

“Come on, give it a try. We have fun too. Everyone is friendly—we’re like a big, crazy, hardworking family,” Louise coaxed.

“Maybe,” Tabitha muttered, suddenly feeling pushed into a corner. She felt drawn to what she’d seen, but afraid at the same time. Would she—could she—find acceptance in the group? From past experience, she doubted it.