‘The ambulance is on its way,’ Angela said. ‘She just collapsed.’
‘Mamá!’ Gabriel sank down beside her, shaking her gently, searching for a pulse, listening for her breathing. ‘Mamá, please, wake up. Can you hear me?’
Her chest rose but it dropped sharply with each breath out. Her colour was the wrong side of pale.
‘How long did the ambulance say they’d be?’ Bruce asked.
‘About ten minutes.’
It might be quicker for him to take her in the ute, but he didn’t want to risk moving her and making it worse. Sirens wailing in the distance tugged his attention but they weren’t close enough yet.
Gabriel kept his finger on Sofia’s wrist, his eyes never moving from the shallow rising of her chest. His gaze was willing her to hold on. ‘Mamá, I’m here. You hold on okay? The ambulance is coming. You’re going to be alright.’ He talked to her over and over.
Angela sought to comfort him but he shrugged her off. Bruce wanted to do the same. He hated the distance between them but after what Gabriel and he had said to each other, Bruce couldn’t offer any solace that Gabriel would accept. All he could do was stand there. He’d never felt more useless in his life.
They remained in their strange tableau for too long before the high-pitched scream of the ambulance broke through. Bruce ran out to meet it and guide the paramedics with their gurney and equipment through to the back garden. Angela answered their questions. Gabriel wouldn’t leave Sofia’s side, even when they said they needed to examine her. Bruce locked his hands around Gabriel’s arms as gently as he could and pulled him back. He relented but as soon as he was clear he shook Bruce off and hovered over the paramedics.
They examined her and tried to rouse her. Blood pressure and pulse were taken, worried looks shot between the paramedics. They didn’t wound Gabriel though. He never took his eyes off Sofia.
‘We’re going to take her to the hospital, okay?’
A few well-practised manoeuvres later and she was being wheeled into the ambulance. Gabriel climbed in, the doors closed and the ambulance reversed. Sirens blaring, it sped off towards Nowra. Would Sofia make it in time? Bruce was left behind with Angela and he wished he’d gone with them.
‘Oh, Bruce.’ Angela sobbed into his chest.
He held her but couldn’t cry. He waited for Angela to sniff back her tears and said he’d lock up the house, put everything right while Gabriel and Sofia were at the hospital. She tried to stay but he didn’t want her around. He didn’t want anyone to see him as he sank into his own self-pity. She took the costumes and left.
In a daze, he locked the house and climbed into his ute. The memory of the sirens still wailed inside his head as he drove home. He struggled to feel anything, his pain over Gabriel’s lies smothered beneath his grief and worry over Sofia.
And what would happen to Gabriel if she died.
He drove in a daze, arriving at his property with no awareness of the journey. He pulled up the long driveway, the rumbling ride unable to shake free his anguish. But as he reached his house, his focus sharpened, going from the open front door to the smashed-out front windows.
What the hell?
The fog clouding his mind dissipated and he slammed on the brakes. Jumping out of the car, he raced into his house but slowed once he crossed the threshold. Black, white and brown paint covered the carpets, and giant red letters swore at Bruce from the walls. He picked his way over the still-wet mess. Paint coated the soles of his boots as he assessed the rest of the damage.
The couches had been slashed, their stuffing ripped out. The television was smashed and face down on the floor. Cupboards were emptied, their contents strewn about like an earthquake had rattled them loose. Making his way through the house, it was much the same in whichever room he went. Whatever could be broken had been broken. Whatever could be stolen had been stolen.
Rachel must have enjoyed herself.
There was no doubt in his mind that this was his sister’s work. The framed photos of their family had been stomped on and ripped. Petty thieves wouldn’t go to this much trouble. Her rage permeated every room, but it stopped at the boundaries of his body. It wasn’t that he resisted it; but he’d been rendered insensitive. She’d destroyed his house but that paled in comparison to what had happened to his heart.
Chapter Twenty-One
The days bled into one another until Gabriel found himself sitting in the front row of the funeral parlour. Behind him: a crowd. In front: a coffin and a window that looked out to Brachen’s verdant forests. Angela had put the service together. She’d asked him questions along the way, displaying infinite patience while he struggled to hold on to the information she gave. The cost of everything. What should be done before and after. Whether Sofia wanted to be cremated or buried. He had to make decisions but he had no idea if they were right.
All he knew was that he’d made the wrong decision in leaving her to go talk to Bruce. If he’d stayed, he could have been there when she collapsed. And if he’d kept his mouth shut about the theatre, none of this would be happening.
Angela knew what he’d done but she kept up her performance well, acting the good friend and never once showing that she thought less of him for causing his mother’s death. But once done with ashes and dust, it would be a different story. The whole town would put it all together. He hoped to be long gone by then. Sell the house. Move back to Sydney. Leave Bruce …
He didn’t want to think that far ahead.
