‘Did you know?’ asked Patrick.
He was seated with his parents around the kitchen table. His mum had made toasted sandwiches for dinner but Patrick’s remained untouched.
‘Yes,’ said Annette. ‘They told me on Saturday, when I called in while you were at football.’
He stared at his plate. Anger had faded to resignation, and a hollowness so deep and ugly he felt as though he was imploding.
‘They’ve been contemplating it for a while. Chelsea was the one who suggested it after she heard about the home. Grant and Nicola were sceptical at first, but the more they looked into it the better it sounded. Even so, they didn’t want to make any decision until they checked for themselves. Seeing the facilities and care on offer first-hand sealed it.’
‘I suppose the Rangers know too.’
‘No, although I suspect Liz has guessed. She might be quiet but she’s a canny one.’
At least that was one positive. If Liz didn’t know then it was unlikely that Tash did. Patrick didn’t think he could have coped if she’d kept something so momentous from him.
He carefully picked a crumb from the table and scraped it on the edge of his plate. ‘You know they’re doing it because of me.’
‘Not entirely. This is for themselves too. Patrick.’ Annette shifted her chair closer. ‘I know you think you understand how much care Maddy takes but I’m not sure you truly comprehend the reality of it. Nicola and Grant are exhausted. They love Maddy but they’re struggling to cope. And they have other family they love just as much. Placing her in care means she’ll get the attention they can’t give, and more. You know as well as they do that there’s no specialist help in Emu Springs. Who’s to say what improvement could be made with proper therapy?’
Patrick rubbed his face. God, he was tired. Tired and empty.
His dad leaned forward. ‘It’s the best outcome for everyone. For you, for Grant and Nicola, but most of all for Maddy.’
‘I know. I’m just …’ He lifted a hand, let it drop. How to explain his guilt? The horrible feeling that he’d let her down in every way possible. And himself down with it.
Annette smiled. ‘You’ll miss her. We understand. She’s been part of your life since you were a boy. You love her. You’d planned a life together. It’s not going to be easy to let go.’
That was part of his problem. He didn’t love her anymore, not the way they believed. Patrick was not only betraying Maddy but everyone else as well.
He stood and took his plate to the sink, and tipped the sandwiches into the chook bucket.
Annette followed. ‘You should eat something.’
‘I’ll grab something later.’ Right now all he wanted was his room and some time to process the day’s revelations.
‘Patty?’ Concern lined his mum’s face.
‘I’ll be all right, Mum.’
‘We worry.’
He hugged her. ‘I know.’
Hiding in his room was a mistake. Staring at the walls only made Patrick feel worse. The hollowness inside seemed to be expanding, taking over his chest and stomach and rising to his head.
His mum was right. Maddy would be better off with proper care. Patrick was selfish to deny her that, but letting her go seemed equally wrong when Maddy herself had no say. What if she didn’t want to leave Springbank? What if she’d overheard her parents’ plan and had been waiting for Patrick to save her, only for him to capitulate? How was he meant to know what was right when she had no voice?
He lay on his side, staring at nothing. Finally, he kicked off the bed and left the room. His parents were still in the kitchen, chatting quietly. Their brows tightened with alarm as Patrick snatched his keys from the rack.
‘Where are you going?’ Annette asked.
‘Just out.’
His dad rose. ‘You right, lad?’
Patrick stopped, aware they were only after reassurance. He hoped they had enough faith to know he wouldn’t do anything stupid, but rural communities were only too familiar with tragedy among young men, and parents worried. His mum and dad had been burdened with too much of that these last couple of years.
‘Yeah, I’m fine. I just need to get out for a bit.’
‘Take your mobile,’ said Annette, picking it up off the sideboard and holding it out. ‘Call if you need us.’
He forced a smile and kissed her cheek. ‘I will.’
Tash was dressed in bright orange flannelette pyjamas, lying on the lounge with headphones on and her eyes closed, when Patrick went to knock on her sliding door. For an indulgent moment he observed her. Her ugg boots swung backwards and forwards in time with her hands. Whatever music she was listening to, it was upbeat and cheerful. Every now and then she sang a few bars before lapsing into a smile.
Already he could feel the hollow filling. Watching her was like being blessed by sunshine. She was the happiest person he’d ever known. It almost seemed wrong to burden her with his troubles.
Without warning Tash’s eyes flew open and locked on the door. She released a shriek, legs paddling as she scrambled backwards up the couch and almost over the edge.
He yanked the door open, his palms up. ‘It’s only me. Patrick. Sorry, sorry.’
She snatched off the earphones, breathing hard. Tinny pop music rattled from the open cups. ‘God, Patrick. You frightened the hell out of me.’
‘Sorry. You looked so happy I wasn’t sure if I should disturb you or not.’
‘Too late.’ She rubbed her face and frowned at him. ‘Well, shut the door.’
Guessing this was her way of saying he was welcome, Patrick slid it closed and stood with his back to the glass.
Tash was winding the headphone cord around her hand. ‘Grab a seat. Can I get you anything? Beer, wine, water? Bit late for coffee.’
He held up a bottle of wine. The bottle shop had been in the process of closing when he’d pulled in and, not knowing much about wine, Patrick grabbed the first thirty-dollar bottle he spotted, working on the theory that it couldn’t be too vinegary at that price.
Tash crossed to take it from him, and inspected the label. Patrick held his breath as he checked her reaction.
‘I haven’t had this before,’ she said. ‘Looks nice though.’
She placed it on the bench and reached for wineglasses, her pyjama top riding up. The bottoms were loose and perched on her hips, giving Patrick a flash of skin before Tash hurriedly tugged her pants up. Her belly was creamy and smooth and comfortingly round. He wished he could press his cheek against it.
She poured the wine and handed him a glass, and padded back to the couch. Patrick followed and took the opposite end. Tash relaxed with her feet curled up and held her glass out in a toast. ‘To the victorious Saints. May there be many more wins.’
He clinked his glass and sipped, relieved when the wine spread silky warmth across his tongue.
Tash crooked her elbow on the back of the couch and rested her head on her hand, watching him as he rolled the bowl of the wineglass between his palms.
‘It’s Maddy,’ he said finally.
‘Okay.’
‘Grant and Nicola are moving to the Sunshine Coast. They’re putting Maddy into care—some state-of-the-art facility with staff and specialists in every corner and every therapy she could ever need.’
‘Oh, Patrick, I’m so sorry.’ She put her wineglass on the coffee table and made to reach for him, but something stopped her and she rested her hands back into her lap.
‘You had no idea?’ he asked.
‘None.’ She frowned. ‘I thought something was up though. Last time I was there they had all this paperwork out but Nicola started gathering it up the moment I walked in. I didn’t think too much of it. I thought they might have been planning a holiday or something.’
He stared at the wine, swirling and watching the viscous trails it left on the glass.
‘I imagine it feels like a betrayal,’ said Tash.
‘Yeah.’ He cleared the ache that immediately formed in his throat. ‘They know how I feel about her going into care, but my opinion doesn’t matter anymore. It’s like …’ He searched for the right explanation. ‘It’s like they’re breaking me and Maddy up without asking us.’
‘I guess they believe they’re doing what’s right. For you, them, and Maddy.’
‘But that’s the thing. Maddy gets no say in this. Everyone else is making her decisions for her. I know it sounds nuts given her condition, but what if she can hear? What if she understands?’ His voice went quiet as fear tightened its grip. ‘What if she doesn’t want to go?’
‘I bet Grant and Nicola have agonised over the same thing. No one knows. All you can rely on is what the specialists say.’
‘They say there’s nothing. The scans prove it.’ He put down his glass and turned to face her. ‘But sometimes when I’m there she does things, and I know they’re nothing, involuntary twitches or whatever, but what if they’re not? It scares the fuck out of me.’
‘I imagine it does. The Handrecks no doubt carry the same fear. I guess they’re consoling themselves with the hope that if that is the case, then maybe with proper therapy she’ll come back.’
‘Yeah, and discover that I’ve betrayed her.’
‘Because you let them put her into a state-of-the-art facility with access to specialists and proper therapy?’ She smiled gently. ‘That’s not a betrayal if she gets better from it.’
Patrick mused on that for a moment. Perhaps that was the way to work this through. Think of it as not a betrayal but as providing the best of care for Maddy, and if that happened to be away from Springbank then so be it.
‘Patrick, I know this is going to be hard to take, but it’s not all about you.’ Her tone was kind. ‘It’s about Maddy and the Handreck family as a whole.’
Patrick closed his eyes. It hurt, hearing the truth, but she was right. The most important person in this was Maddy. ‘When did you get so wise?’
‘Blame Pa and his garden philosophy.’
Patrick took another sip of wine. It was comfortable here, companionable, and the question of whether Maddy’s departure would make any difference to Tash’s feelings for him burned. It could stay burning too. He had no right even thinking about that with Maddy still next door.
‘So when are they planning on moving?’ she asked.
‘Soon.’
‘And Springbank?’
‘The plan is to lease the land and house out.’
Tash pursed her mouth. ‘They’re not selling?’
‘No. Nicola wanted to but Grant thought it’d be best if they held onto the place, in case it doesn’t work out and they want to come home.’
‘Smart thinking. Mind you, I’d be surprised if they did. Chelsea and the kids will keep them anchored.’ She made a sympathetic noise. ‘Poor things. Leaving will be so hard. All their friends are here, all their memories.’ Suddenly her hand flew to her mouth. ‘Oh shit.’
‘What?’
She stared at him. ‘What am I meant to do with Khan?’
Patrick shrugged. ‘Keep him.’
‘No.’ She shook her head in emphasis. ‘He’s Maddy’s, not mine. And I can’t.’ She poked Patrick’s bicep. ‘You’ll have to take him.’
‘Like hell. I was going to shoot the thing, remember?’
‘You weren’t serious.’
He had been for a few minutes. Deadly serious. Even now Patrick still blamed Khan for Maddy’s accident, although not as much as he had. Plus how could he destroy something both the women he loved adored? ‘They wouldn’t let me take him anyway.’
Tash gave her temples a vigorous rub. ‘Shit, shit, shit. With everything else they probably haven’t even given two thoughts to Khan. I’ll have a chat to Nicola, see if we can’t find a good home for him.’
Patrick sat forward. ‘Why can’t you keep him? You said yourself you’d come back for weekends.’
Tash regarded him like he was an idiot. ‘Right. Like that’s fair on Mum and Dad.’
‘They wouldn’t mind.’
‘They probably wouldn’t, but that’s hardly the point. And I don’t know if I will be coming back that often. Who’s to say what next year will bring?’
‘What about your garden, the oven? The orchard you’re planning.’ What about all the things she’d been doing, permanent things? What about his hope?
‘They’re not personal, they’re for the blog. Content like that keeps people coming back and attracts new subscribers. All part of the Urban Ranger business.’
Patrick’s heart sank. Baz had been wrong about his granddaughter. Tash’s ambition was more powerful than the pull of home. ‘Haven’t you been happy here?’
‘Yes, of course I have, but …’ She threw up her hands. ‘It’s not that simple.’
‘Isn’t it?’
‘No, it’s not. You of all people should understand that.’
He stared at her without comprehension.
‘I have dreams, Patrick. Just like Maddy did. But unlike hers, mine don’t finish here.’
‘They could.’
But Tash only closed her eyes and, turning her face away, slowly shook her head.