41. Iris
Iris
T he ambulance arrives, and I’m carried into the back, where the paramedics begin cleaning my shoulder.
They tell me it’s just a graze, but I’ll need to be properly examined by a doctor at the hospital.
The last place I want to go is hospital.
I haven’t been home for days now and I want to wrap my arms around the kids and never let go.
The paramedics are patching my wound when there’s a banging on the back door of the ambulance. The sound and nature of it startle me and I have to remind myself I’m safe now. I wonder how long loud noises will worry me for.
One of the paramedics opens the door and I burst into tears when I see who it is.
Sam climbs into the ambulance and pulls me into him.
‘Ouch,’ I squeak when he squeezes a little too tightly near my shoulder.
He loosens his grip. ‘Sorry, where are you hurt?’
‘She has a bullet graze on her shoulder. It’s superficial, but we’re taking her to hospital to get it checked properly,’ a paramedic says.
Sam puts his hands on my face, swiping away my tears. ‘I thought I might lose you.’
I swallow back a sob. ‘Me too. I’m so—’
‘Stop,’ Sam says. ‘Do not apologise. None of this is your fault.’
We both know that isn’t entirely true, but I appreciate him not saying as much. If I’d only trusted him and let him do his job without meddling, we could’ve avoided all of this.
‘If I’d trusted you.’ I shake my head. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘Iris, you worked out the missing link. This isn’t how I wanted this to play out but you helped us catch them.’
‘So you found Eva?’
He nods, a frown creasing his face.
‘And Archie?’
‘Yes, he’s okay.’
Sam fastens his seatbelt in the back of the ambulance, and as they take us to the hospital, he tells me what happened down the road with Eva.
She’d said she wanted him dead because of me, and that stings more than any pain Eva, Matteas and Gregor have inflicted upon me in the past few days.
If Sam had died, knowing I was the reason, I’m not sure how I’d have lived with myself.
‘It wasn’t your fault,’ Sam reassures me again, after I tell him this.
When we get to the small country hospital, there are news reporters already there. Apparently, someone had caught wind of the arrests being made. The High Country wouldn’t be used to seeing this many police cars or ambulances, so it’s not surprising.
An older woman in forest green scrubs meets us in the Emergency Department, where there are nurses running around in what can only be described as organised chaos.
‘I’m Dr Morris,’ she says, colour creeping into her cheeks. ‘I do apologise for the madness around here. We aren’t used to this…’ She waves an arm around the emergency room, seemingly not able to find the word she’s looking for.
Multiple arrests relating to a child trafficking ring and a gun fight isn’t exactly commonplace, even in Melbourne, but up here, it’s a hectic day indeed.
Dr Morris pulls back the temporary padding the paramedics had placed over my graze.
‘You probably don’t feel it, but you’re very lucky. This is not too bad at all.’
She places a cotton pad in a liquid solution and washes it over the site. It stings for a moment and I flinch.
Sam takes my hand and gives it a squeeze. ‘Are you okay?’
I nod. ‘Yeah, just a little sting. I’m fine.’
‘It’ll need a few stitches. Then we’ll get a fresh patch over this, and it’ll be fine,’ Dr Morris says.
‘So, I can go?’
I knew it was probably wishful thinking that I’d be cleared quickly. Amongst the bullet graze and less serious cuts and bruises, there’s a nasty bump on the side of my head, where Gregor hit me, and I haven’t eaten or drunk properly for days.
Dr Morris gives me a sympathetic look. ‘I was informed, while you were in the ambulance, what you’ve been through. I can’t let you go yet. Let me check a few things and then we’ll get you transferred to the city.’
‘Thank you,’ I say. Tears prick at my eyes, knowing how close I am to getting home.
Two hours and some IV fluids later, Dr Morris is happy to have me transferred to a hospital in Melbourne.
In those two hours, Sam’s team has been able to track down my phone, which was in one of the cars at the farmhouse.
Sam also checks on the status of Eva and Gregor before we leave.
They’re both stable and awake, and when they’re ready, they’ll go straight from here into police custody.
Archie is on his way back to Melbourne with a woman from child protection.
I’m even more devastated for that little boy now Sam has told me he wasn’t even Eva and Matteas’ child.
***
The hospital is expecting me when I arrive, and I’m taken to a ward quickly, where they hook me up with more fluids and some pain relief. They bring me a small serving of sandwiches, careful not to overwhelm me with too much food too quickly, and they’re the best thing I’ve ever tasted.
Sam steps out for a few minutes, and when he returns, he’s joined by his mum and the kids.
As soon as I see them, I cry. Big, loud sobs.
Sam reminds them to be gentle as they climb onto the bed and into my arms. This is by far the longest I have ever been away from them and I felt sicker with every passing minute we weren’t together.
‘Did you have a nice holiday, Mummy?’ Billy asks.
I smile and nod, unable to form the words.
‘Big Band-Aid,’ Lara says, pointing to the patch on my shoulder.
I cup her cheek. My sweet little Band-Aid-obsessed two-year old.
‘It is a big one, isn’t it?’ Sam says. ‘Mummy had a little tumble on her holiday.’
Sam and I had agreed not to go into detail about what happened to me with the kids. We’re usually pretty honest with them, especially given Sam’s job. But this one’s too much to worry their sweet young minds with. One day, we’ll be able to tell them the story about what happened. Just not yet.
The kids last about five minutes cuddling me before the usual wriggles and whinges kick in. I’ll never take for granted these tricky moments ever again. I’d bottle up their frustrating whining voices and listen to them every day if it meant they were with me.
‘Why don’t we let Mummy rest,’ Leanne says. ‘We’ll come back tomorrow. It’s time to go home and have dinner and ice cream.’
The kids jump off my bed quick smart at that, and I’m grateful that despite everything, their routine has been kept as normal as possible, and ice cream is still the answer to everything.
‘I’m going to make a few calls quickly and then I’ll be back,’ Sam says, and he walks out with them.
I take my phone from the table next to me. I haven’t powered it on in days and I’m sure there’ll be lots of calls and messages to catch up on, but there is one person I’m dying to talk to. I hit dial on her contact.
‘Hello, Charlotte speaking.’
I haven’t spoken to Charlotte much since moving to Cobal Gully.
When her daughter, Imogen, was kidnapped two years ago, it was the trigger moment for this obsession I’ve had.
With two newborn girls, I’d fallen hard and fast into a rabbit hole and was determined to find the monsters responsible.
In the end, Imogen was fine, but Charlotte has never been the same.
‘Charlotte, it’s Iris.’
‘Iris, oh my God. I’ve seen the news.’
Of course it had reached the news before I could speak to her. But there’s no way they could have much to report yet. It’s too early.
‘What are they saying?’
‘That there have been arrests made in a large child trafficking operation based in Melbourne. Is that why you’re calling?’
I can’t help it, a fresh wave of tears flow. I’m still trying to come to terms with the fact we found them and somehow, after what’s happened in the last few days, I’m alive and Sam’s safe.
‘Yeah,’ I say between sobs. ‘I’ve got some things to fill you in on.’
I speak to Charlotte for a little while before I become too exhausted and I have to let her go and get some rest. Sam returns briefly to tell me he’s going home to shower and get his team working on missing baby reports that could be linked to Archie.
‘I love you,’ he says, before pressing a kiss to my lips.
‘I love you, too.’
‘I’ll be back first thing in the morning.’
I lie back on the hospital bed, careful to keep my shoulder in a comfortable position and close my eyes.
Two years of keeping my little project secret from Sam.
Two years of him working for a taskforce searching for these criminals.
Two years of chasing leads and keeping contacts who could help me with information.
It all paid off. The arrests have started, and I have no doubt there’ll be more nationwide.
Fourteen children were or soon will be reunited with their families this week.
And, hopefully, Archie will be too. I drift off to sleep with a strange mixture of heartache and pride over everything that’s happened to those children and that I found them.