The Family Next Door(74)

“She was a good mother, you know. A great mother. I know you don’t want to hear that—”

“Actually I do want to hear that. I know Mum’s worst fear was that someone was mistreating you. She always said that if you couldn’t come back to us, she prayed you were with someone who desperately wanted you and cherished you.”

Tiny, precise footsteps echoed in the hallway. Essie and Isabelle stood in unison as Mia charged into the room. Essie swept her daughter up in her arms. “Mia!”

Mia let herself be hugged for just a moment before she pulled back. “Gran had to go to the hospital.”

“I know, sweetie.”

“And I went in a police car.”

“I heard.” Essie hugged Mia again. She caught eye contact with Ben who stood behind her. “Any news about Mum?”

“She’s in surgery,” Ben said. “The next twenty-four hours will be crucial. She had a significant head trauma.”

“Can I play on your bed, Mummy?” Mia said.

“Of course,” Essie said, and Mia leapt onto the bed, immediately reaching for the control to make it go up and down. Isabelle went over and helped her operate it.

“I spoke to the doctor in the hallway, and he’s coming in to see you,” Ben said. “He’s going to start working on your release papers. Then we can all go home.”

Essie nodded at him. It should have been a reassuring thought. She wasn’t crazy. Her daughter was fine. She was able to go home with her family. But as she packed up her things, getting ready for release, all she could think was: We’re not all going home. Mum’s not going anywhere.





61


FRAN


Nigel had got the first plane out of Brisbane. He got a cab right from the airport and arrived in the hospital, as the sky was just getting dark. When he got to Ava’s room, Rosie asleep on Fran’s lap and Ava was in a hospital crib.

Nigel walked directly over to Ava. “How is she?”

“She has heatstroke,” Fran said. “She was dehydrated. They’re giving her IV fluids and they said she’s doing better.”

He picked up her chart and looked at it. Fran wondered if he actually understood the stuff that was written there, or if he was just doing it to feel more in control. Even if it was the latter, she wasn’t judging. There was no worse feeling, Fran had come to realize, than not being in control when it came to your child.

“How did this happen?” he asked.

“I have no idea. She seemed fine … and then all at once…”

Nigel put a hand on her shoulder. “Babies can go downhill fast.”

“I should have had the air-conditioning on. I should have been keeping a closer eye on her—”

“It’s not your fault, Fran.”

But she wasn’t so sure. If she hadn’t had an affair, Nigel wouldn’t have gone away. She wouldn’t have been distracted. She would have spent more time ensuring her baby had adequate fluids.

Fran started to cry. Nigel dropped into the seat beside her.

“Thank you for coming.” She was sobbing. “Honestly, I don’t know what I would have done—”

“Shh. It’s all right.”

A hospital staff member shuffled in. She checked the IV fluid and took her temperature. Fran deduced that she was a nurse. “Her temperature has come down a bit; that’s good. And we’ve got a lot of fluids into her.”

“Will she be okay?” Fran asked.

“Heatstroke is always serious in such a young baby.” She opened Ava’s diaper and glanced inside (checking her urine output, someone had explained earlier). “But she’s doing all the things we like to see, which is very encouraging.”

Fran wondered if they taught medical staff how to reassure people while not answering a direct question. Fran understood why they did it, but as a lawyer, it irritated her. As a mother, it infuriated her. The staff member must have seen her frustration because she added: “The doctor will be in to tell you more in a minute.”

And she left the room. Fran felt Nigel’s arm go around her and she rested her head on his comforting shoulder. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m so, so sorry.”

“I told you, it wasn’t your f—”

“I’m sorry for being unfaithful. I’m sorry I didn’t support you better through your depression.”

“You did support me.”

“I should have done more. I should have worked harder.”

Rosie jolted in Fran’s lap. They both looked down at her, but she just snuggled against Fran’s tummy and closed her eyes again.

“I got a call from your mother,” Nigel said, “to apologize for everything you’d put me through.”

Fran’s gaze bounced up to Nigel’s. “You did not.”

“She said she was deeply disappointed in you. She said she didn’t raise a daughter who had affairs or illegitimate children. But she urged me to stay with you. She said that—”

“—that marriage was hard, but you had to work harder?”

“Yes.”

She watched Nigel’s face. He’d never liked her mother. Fran had always defended her to him, saying she means well, and she’s a product of her upbringing.