Chapter 5
Nel’s old childhood bedroom had been repurposed as a tastefully decorated spare room, with any sign of her previous ownership eradicated.
A needlepoint that said Home Sweet Home hung where once there had been a dog-eared poster of Robert Pattinson in his Twilight era.
The wardrobe now stored Cath’s summer clothes.
Apparently Nel’s remaining possessions had been relocated to boxes in the garage.
Only the ornate ceiling with its roses and looping ribbons was the same.
She piled half the decorative cushions on a cane chair in the corner to make space on the bed, threw back the floral quilt and crawled under the covers, suddenly overwhelmed with exhaustion.
How strange it was, being back here in this room.
In this town. For years, this day—the day she returned to Carrinya—had loomed in her future, vague but inevitable.
When she left at eighteen, escaping the whispers and rumours that followed her wherever she went, she’d never intended to stay away for so long, but the anonymity of life in Sydney had been such a relief.
It was as though she’d been trapped underwater those last few years here, suffocating.
Reaching Sydney was like breaking through the surface of the water. She was finally able to breathe.
Each semester as the holidays approached, her mum would ask if she would come home, but the thought of subjecting herself to the scrutinising glare of Carrinya was more than Nel could manage. And there was always a good excuse. A casual job. Travel plans. Upcoming exams she needed to study for.
When she’d finished her internship, the opportunity to do her general practice training in Ireland presented itself and she jumped at it.
Who wouldn’t? But as the years passed and she’d returned to Sydney, it became harder and harder to go back.
Her family passed through the city often enough that she didn’t need to go down to see them, so there had just never been a good enough reason to make that five-hour journey. Until now.
There was a knock and the door opened a crack.
‘Can I come in?’ Cath stepped into the room without waiting for an answer and sat down on the bed. She looked weak, drained. The delicate skin under her eyes was swollen.
‘I need your help, Nel.’ She spoke steadily. ‘I’m going to have to sell the clinic, but potential buyers will want to see that it’s operating at capacity.’ Nel held her breath, sensing what was coming. ‘Would you consider running it until I can sell it?’
‘But …’ Nel faltered. ‘But that could take six months. Possibly longer.’
Cath shrugged. ‘Steve thinks it shouldn’t be too hard to find a buyer. Carrinya’s a good spot for families.’
Nel looked away. Being back here for a week or two was one thing. Committing to months at the clinic was another proposition entirely.
‘There’s a new medical centre opening in North Carrinya,’ Cath went on. ‘They did a letterbox drop across town last week.’ Cath stared at her, waiting for an answer. Her pitch rose. ‘Please, Nel. If we have to close the clinic, even for just a few weeks, we’ll lose patients.’
‘But I’ve got a lease—’
‘We can cover that.’
‘I don’t know how much leave I can get.’
‘Please. Do it for your dad.’ Cath’s eyes shone. ‘He spent thirty years building that practice.’
Nel sighed. ‘I just … If I’m honest, Mum, I don’t know that I can handle it. The rumours will start again the minute people know I’m back here. I can cope with that for a week, but …’
‘For god’s sake, Nel!’ Cath snapped. ‘Sixteen years have passed. People have moved on!’
‘Sixteen years is like six months in a place like this.’
‘Rubbish!’ Cath shook her head as though she’d never heard such nonsense. ‘Will you at least stay until I can get a locum?’
Nel covered her face with her hands. Every instinct told her to go, to get out of here as soon as possible, but how could she say no?
Cath’s tone softened. ‘It might be good for you. I know you’ve never got over what happened to Maddie. Maybe this is your chance to come to terms with the past and let it go.’ A long silence. ‘Please?’ There was an awful vulnerability in her mum’s voice.
‘I’ll stay for a couple of weeks,’ Nel said, ‘until you can get a locum.’
But it wasn’t the answer her mother wanted. ‘That’s better than nothing, I suppose,’ she muttered, getting up to leave. When she reached the door, she looked back at Nel. ‘You know, Geoff and Faye weren’t the only ones who lost a daughter.’
She turned away and closed the door behind her.
Nel exhaled and lay back. Guilt sat heavily in her stomach. Was her mum right? Had people moved on? Time was so strange. Sixteen years was both a lifetime and a heartbeat.
It was weird, being back in this room. Unsettling.
The past felt too close. Nel looked around, trying to find the source of her uneasiness.
Her eyes landed on the needlepoint. Home Sweet Home!
God. Sweet wasn’t the first word that sprang to mind.
She lifted it off the wall and stashed it in the wardrobe, but she didn’t feel any better.
A strange sensation came over her. The sense that she wasn’t completely alone.
It was as though the ghosts of her younger selves were here too.
All of them. She pictured herself at five, tucked up under her Buzz Lightyear quilt cover, and then at ten, mesmerised by the glow-in-the-dark stars she’d begged her dad to stick to the ceiling.
She could just make out the places where the plaster had chipped when they were removed, years later.
Her eyes moved over the walls, picturing the posters that had adorned them.
She and Maddie would lie right here, side by side, admiring Robert Pattinson’s brooding eyes and Zac Efron’s rippling abs, debating who was hotter.
Memories of Maddie rushed to the surface, thick and fast, jostling for her attention.
She’d spent years tamping them down, locking them away, but now that she was back, it was as though they’d been unlocked.
Nel put a hand on her forehead and rolled onto her side, staring at the empty space on the floor where Maddie would sleep on an air mattress.
They would talk for half the night, until Cath would lose her patience and threaten to separate them.
Nel lifted her hand, looking at the lines on her palm.
*
‘Give me your hand,’ Maddie said. ‘I’ll read your future.’
Nel didn’t believe in crap like that, but she extended her hand anyway.
Maddie studied the lines, running her long fingers over Nel’s outstretched palm. ‘That’s interesting.’ She frowned and raised one eyebrow. Ever the performer.
‘What?’ Nel said, rolling her eyes.
‘Are you sure you want to know?’ Maddie’s tone was low, ominous.
Nel laughed and snatched her hand back. ‘You have no idea what you’re doing!’
Maddie pretended to be hurt. ‘I do so! My auntie taught me.’ She had been obsessed with all sorts of weird stuff since her aunt had visited in the school holidays.
Nel gave a nonchalant shrug, but she was a little curious. ‘All right, what does it say then?’
‘You have no fate line.’
‘What does that mean?’ Nel asked, humouring her. It meant nothing. Obviously.
‘It means your life won’t be controlled by fate. You’ll choose your own path.’
‘Well, I don’t believe in fate, so I guess that makes sense,’ Nel said. ‘Do you have one?’
‘Yes.’ Maddie unfurled her own hand and ran her finger over the deep line that ran from the base of her palm all the way to her fingers.
‘Mine’s strong. Auntie Jess said there’s something big in store for me.
’ She looked back at Nel’s palm and traced the deep crease across the middle.
‘This is your head line. See how deep it is?’
‘Yes.’
‘That means you’re very smart and focused.’
Nel tried not to roll her eyes again. It didn’t take a palm reader to know that. She’d duxxed Carrinya Primary School last year.
‘And see this one?’ It tickled as Maddie ran her finger across the faint line that ran from side to side across Nel’s palm. ‘… this is your heart line. It’s very weak, actually.’
‘So?’ Nel asked, at once curious and annoyed with herself for indulging in this nonsense.
‘It means you need to listen to your heart more. It’s a growth area for you. And see these little lines here?’ Nel squinted at the tiny lines that crossed her heart line. ‘They mean there will be pain and trauma in your future.’
Nel took her hand back, forming a fist. ‘So what does your palm say? Is there pain and trauma ahead for you too?’
Maddie opened her own palm. ‘My head line curves down’—she traced it to where it finished, close to her wrist—‘which means I’m very creative.
And see that gap there?’ Nel wasn’t sure if she was looking at the right thing.
‘That means I have adventures ahead.’ She looked up and met Nel’s gaze, hazel eyes flashing.
‘I think it means I’m going to leave Carrinya and become a famous actress. ’
‘You got all that from a sloping line and a gap that I can’t even see?’ Nel asked, yawning. She turned off the bedside lamp, lay back on her pillow and closed her eyes. She couldn’t imagine wanting to leave Carrinya. They lay in silence for a few minutes.
‘I can’t wait,’ Maddie murmured, her words floating in the darkness above them.
‘For what?’
‘For everything.’