Anya didn’t want her to have anything orally, in case the arm had to be pulled back into place under a general anesthetic. And she didn’t carry injectable narcotics, to protect the unit from attacks and break-ins.
“That arm may need surgery, so you can’t have anything by mouth until we get an X-ray.”
Violet moved to stand but when Savannah tried to lift her arm to do the same, she recoiled into the lounge.
“Hold on,” Anya explained. “I can walk you across the road to X-ray and give you an anonymous code, which we have permission to do. No one has to know your name, or what happened. But that arm definitely has to be fixed, or you could lose function in it. If it’s an unstable break, it could cut off the blood supply to your hand, which would mean something a lot more serious.”
With a fresh head injury, Anya also wanted the girl to remain conscious and lucid. Painkillers could sedate and cause even more problems. Immobilizing the arm was as effective as pain relief for now. She rechecked for the wrist pulses. The fingers were pink and still receiving adequate blood flow. She then repositioned the pillow closer to Savannah’s body, so the arm was better braced against even the slightest movement.
Anya locked the unit when the three of them walked across the road to the emergency department. Violet wanted a cigarette and waited outside. She could have been keeping an eye out.
The triage sister kindly fast-tracked them with an anonymous code and soon they were in X-ray. Anya put on a lead gown to stay with her patient.
Two ribs had been broken, but thankfully hadn’t managed to puncture a lung. Above the wrist was fractured but the skull was intact. The emergency physician on duty put in a local anesthetic block in that arm and pulled it back into place. Another X-ray showed it back in alignment. They then moved into a treatment room and waited for the same doctor to return.
He opted to stabilize the forearm with a plaster backslab and bandage. It wasn’t the ideal treatment, but under these circumstances could be easily removed if Savannah needed to be seen by her family and didn’t want them to know she’d been to a hospital.
As they waited together for the plaster to set, the doctor left to get a suturing kit for the scalp wound. Savannah began to open up.
“Why are you being so nice?”
“It’s not nice, it’s my job. Just like the doctors in here.”
Savannah began to cry. “No one’s ever been this kind to me before.”
Anya put an arm around the girl, who had grown up with abuse and beatings. The smallest amount of compassion could set off an avalanche of emotion in someone like Savannah.
“Mum reckons I waste air when I breathe. She hates me.”
Ordinarily, that would sound like an immature reaction to an argument, but Noelene Harbourn had some serious psychopathology. Savannah may well have been right about her.
With the plaster in place, it was time to suture the head wound. Hair could hide the stitches, if she washed it carefully when she got home.
As Savannah sat bravely throughout the procedure, Anya thought about the dysfunctional family.
Social commentators and clergymen lamented the demise of the family, but whether nature or nurture caused criminality was irrelevant. Families like this should be broken up and separated.
Savannah had deserved much better.
“What happened after your mother left?”
Savannah paused and lowered her head. “After dinner when I was cleaning up, Gary told me to find his baseball bat and got wild when it wasn’t there. My sisters called me into the bedroom and said the police had been around asking more questions. All Gary cared about was what Bruce and Paddy told the police, but Amber said they’d already taken off somewhere with the bat. Gary lost it and started laying into me. First with his fists, and when I went down he started kicking me.”
Anya’s mind raced. Was it the brothers taking the baseball bat that sent him into a violent frenzy? Or what they were going to do with it? Gary was capable of turning on anyone, except, it seemed, his own mother.
“What did they do with the bat? Why did he care so much?”
Savannah stood up, cradling her arm. “It’s what he used to beat people up with. Anyone who owed him money or double-crossed him, he reckoned.”
They headed outside to where Violet was sitting on a step, still smoking.
“Did she fix you?”
Savannah nodded. “Thanks, I feel a lot better.”
Anya said, “This time you were lucky. How did you get away from Gary?”
“I didn’t. He just left. Rick had been out with his mates and at least he helped me off the floor when he got home. The others had got home and passed out on the lounge.”
“It isn’t the first time. Those assholes would belt her up if she didn’t get them a drink or bag of chips or do some shit they told her to.” Violet flared. “Tell the doctor what happened when your mum got back.”
Savannah rubbed the bandaged arm with her good hand.
“She’d been drinking. I could smell it. When I told her what happened, she started yelling at me for making Gary angry. Then she slapped me really hard in the face and went to bed.”
19
Martin brought Ben over to stay and agreed to have dinner with them. Over schnitzels, vegetables and chocolate-chip ice cream, the three chatted for hours about the trip and their adventures. It was almost like earlier times. The holiday had done them wonders.
Martin barely mentioned his girlfriend and Ben thrived on the attention from both parents. Past bitterness seemed to have been forgotten. Both parents kissed their sleeping child goodnight.
The Saturday with Ben passed in a blur of hugs, laughter and games. Anya could have sworn he had grown in the days since she had seen him.
Sunday morning had him up much later than normal. Anya checked to make sure he was all right, and watched him sleep, so peacefully, so innocently. Disneyland and the trip home had exhausted him. Even so, he’d hung a display full of badges by his bed, collected and swapped in Anaheim.
Anya looked at the unmade bookcase at the back of the room. Ben hadn’t even asked about the boxes; all he wanted was his mum. She couldn’t help smile. Last night they’d snuggled on the lounge and watched
She slipped downstairs and boiled the kettle while he slept. In retrospect, the divorce with Martin had been inevitable. Except Anya hadn’t counted on losing custody because she had become the working parent supporting them all while Martin stayed at home as the primary carer.
Anya placed two teaspoons of leaves and another “for the pot” as her grandmother had always done, and filled the teapot with boiling water before turning it three times, just like Nanna used to.
She sat and felt the sun on her skin through the kitchen window. This was her favorite time of day. No phone calls or meetings, and the world felt temporarily calm. And Ben safe upstairs, as if he lived there permanently.
Anya thought about how much of Ben’s schooling she had already missed, and it was only his first year. Other mothers did reading and canteen duty, but she had to work to pay child support on top of the mortgage and Elaine’s wage. Business had improved, but a lot of the government work went unpaid. Even so, it often led to paid jobs, which always helped.
A mug of tea later, Anya heard quick steps on the wooden stairs. “Good morning,” she said and met him in the doorway with a hug.
Ben, still sleepy-eyed, wrapped his arms around her without a word. When he didn’t move, she checked to see if he had fallen asleep standing up.
“How about some breakfast? I can do orange juice, scrambled eggs and toast.”
“Can we go out for waffles? I like waffles with maple syrup like we had in Disneyland.”
“How about we see what cereal’s left in the cupboard, after you ate two big bowls yesterday?”
Ben grinned with pride.
