The Lightkeeper's Wife - By Karen Viggers Page 0,128

the lamp. ‘What about Nick?’

‘What about him?’

‘He’s in the car. Can you bring him in? He’ll freeze out there.’

‘Does it matter?’ Tonight of all nights, I don’t care about Nick. My mother is dying.

‘We had an argument. I wanted him to go, but he wouldn’t.

And you weren’t here.’ She says it again as if it’s all my fault.

‘I’ll bring him in,’ I say. ‘Then I’m going to sleep.’

Fortunately, Nick is capable of walking up the driveway unassisted, and when they’re both ensconced on couches, I switch off the lights and retreat to my bedroom. I move woodenly through the shadows and lie on my bed fully clothed, staring at the ceiling. On the phone this evening, Leon said Mum was having trouble breathing. I envisage her face, pale and strained, her lips tinged with blue. I imagine the wheezing sound of her respiration, the labour of each inhalation.

A frightening void has opened up in me. I picture Mum lying in that lonely Cloudy Bay bed. Perhaps she really is dying. And now I’m truly afraid. Not scared for Mum—she knows what death holds for her. I’m afraid for myself. My feelings for Emma have been my life raft these past weeks: I thought Mum’s death would be my release and Emma would be my future. But Emma’s not the solution I first imagined her to be. Nick is the unexpected factor and I can’t seem to delete him. Now he’s here, in my house.

Jess jumps onto the bed and curls up beside me. I lay my hand on her head; her soft ears are reassuring beneath my fingers. Sleep floats just beyond reach: I yearn for it, but each time I’m tilting on its downhill edge, consciousness leaps at me, making me jolt, shifting my restless legs. This will be a night of fitful dozing.

I wake early and take Jess for a walk. Normally, I’d have breakfast and enter the day through the curling steam rising from my first cup of tea. But this morning there are uninvited guests in my house, and I don’t want to listen to them snoring in the lounge room.

Outside, it’s crisp and cold, and in the east, light is just beginning to glimmer on the horizon. Jess and I head down the hill past Laura’s house. The curtains are drawn and the house is dark, so she must be still asleep. On the beach, I squat on the grey sand and stare across the channel while quiet wavelets lap at the shore. Dawn spreads slowly across the sky and soon a couple of gulls come strutting along the sand, jabbing at crab holes exposed by the tide. Jess is subdued too, picking up on my mood.

Last night at Jan’s, I agreed to wait for the nine o’clock ferry. But I want to be down at Cloudy Bay now, spinning along the sand in the awakening light, running across the deck, sitting down beside Mum’s bed, holding onto her hand. I pace the beach, hoping I’ll hear Nick’s Commodore start up and that they will both leave before I get back. But there’s no sound from the road and soon Laura comes wandering out of the bush. I’m standing down near the water, and I hope she’ll leave me be. But she meanders up with a hesitant smile.

‘Are you okay?’ she asks.

‘Yes,’ I say, keeping it short.

‘You’ve been walking up and down for quite a while. I saw you from the road. Are you sure everything’s all right?’

‘Yes, it’s fine,’ I say dismissively. I wish she’d leave me alone, but I’m not sure how to send her away tactfully.

‘It’s not fine, is it? There’s something wrong. I can feel it.’

Her concern makes something break inside me and words gush out. ‘My mother’s ill. She’s dying of heart disease. She’s down on Bruny Island in a cabin and I’m stuck here waiting for my sister. But I don’t want to wait. I want to be there. I want to sit beside my mum even if she doesn’t know I’m there.’

Laura listens silently, her eyes full of compassion. I’m surprised by her empathy, but then perhaps I shouldn’t be—she’s been through a lot with her brother. Suddenly, her company doesn’t feel like an imposition, and I find her quiet attention almost comforting.

‘You should go straightaway,’ she says. ‘Don’t hang around. Just get on the road.’

‘What about my sister?’

She shakes her head. ‘She can make her own way down. Don’t wait. You need to be there now.’

She’s right.

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