Impulse Page 2

‘Is there something the doctors can give her?’ I asked, clutching my mug tightly. ‘Is there anything we can do?’

  Pop sighed. ‘We’ve been to the doctors. They say she’s got Alzheimer’s. There’s nothing they or we can do. She’ll only get worse. I’ll have to put her in a home eventually.’ He looked at me and then at Lauren, his blue eyes watery with unshed tears. ‘I didn’t want to say anything. It’s only been two years since…your mum and dad…’ His voice trailed off.

  The crater of silence returned and engulfed us all, broken a minute or so later by a noisy cricket that lived somewhere behind the couch across the room.

  ‘We’ll all pitch in and help—’ I started to say, but then remembered that I’d be gone tomorrow. The thought made me wince with physical pain, as though a miniature person had crawled inside my chest and taken a chainsaw to my heart.

  I couldn’t leave. Not now.

  Not when Nana and Pop needed me.

  Lauren eyed me from across the table. Something like relief flickered across her face, as though she knew I had changed my mind. But then her eyes widened as though a sudden thought had occurred, something troubling, and she swore beneath her breath, three whispery little f’s.

  I felt like swearing too.

  Pop needed Nan. She was his other half. We needed her too. And, more importantly, she didn’t deserve to lose her mind, to lose all the precious memories she’d earned throughout her life. She’d been through so much, losing Mum and Dad and taking us kids on. If God existed, I’d drag him down to earth, shake him around a little and make him see the mistake he was making. But there was no God—I knew that from firsthand experience—so I was wasting my time even thinking it.

  Pop downed the rest of his tea and got up. His mug clanged against the sink as if he’d thrown it. ‘I’m off to bed. You two should get some sleep too—especially tomorrow’s birthday girl.’ He threw me a half-hearted wink and then eyed Lauren’s blotchy face. ‘How was the party, Loz?’

  Lauren recovered enough to paste on a smile. ‘Great. But I think I’ve got a lamb-roast food-baby.’ She gripped her stomach and groaned. ‘I need to sleep it off.’

  I forced a smile at Pop and fake yawned. ‘Yeah, I’m tired, too. Thanks for telling us about Nan. It’s better that we know.’

  It scared me to think that I may have gone to Marin without knowing Nana was in such a bad way. Just the idea of it filled me with guilt.

  But, once in my room, I collapsed onto my bed and drew out Marko’s letter from beneath my pillow, and a sudden wave of sadness dumped all over the guilt I was feeling about Nana, drowning it out temporarily. If I didn’t meet Marko at Bob’s Bay tomorrow night, he would return to Marin believing that I didn’t care. And the opportunity to address my feelings for him would be forever lost, like some ghostly old ship at the bottom of the ocean. And then there was Sylvia. How would I be able to stand not knowing if she would eventually betray Marko or not? What if she decided to free her twin brother, Damir, from the dungeons? He would kill Marko for the throne. He had killed his own father, so why not his brother?

  I choked back the iron lump in my throat and smothered my face into my pillow, desperately willing a solution. But no matter how many sweaty, sheet-twisting hours I spent agonising over it, no solution came. I would hate myself forever if I left my grandparents right now, when they needed me; but at the same time, I would never forgive myself for not returning to Marin and outing Sylvia’s deception to Marko before she did something to hurt him.

  Save cloning, there was no solution.

  The next morning I woke with a headache so massive that each time I raised my head I wanted to throw up. I’d never experienced a migraine before, but couldn’t forget the many times I’d watched my dad suffer with them while he was alive.

  Nana brought me in some tea and toast, which I barely touched. The way she sat and mothered me gave me a small flicker of hope that she wasn’t in as bad shape as Pop or the doctors thought, but then she called me by my mum’s name and told me I’d be late for school if I didn’t get a move on. She’d never done this before. Sure, she was always calling me Lauren, and vice-versa. But this was different. This was scary.

  ‘Nana, I’m Miranda. And I graduated high school a month ago.’ The funny thing was that I took after my dad’s side of the family, with my dark-brown eyes and brown hair. Lauren was the one who’d inherited Mum’s beautiful blue eyes.

  Nana looked at me blankly for a long moment, her eyes flickering ever so slightly from side to side, as if her brain was sifting through its files, searching for an image that matched.

  ‘Of course, Miranda, love.’ She stared out the window and nodded her head. ‘It’s your birthday, isn’t it? You’re eighteen today.’

  ‘Yes,’ I whispered, because talking was making my head thump like it was ready to split open.

  She leaned over and pressed her thin, papery lips to my forehead before she stood up and said, ‘I’ve got some… things to do.’

  Not long after, Lauren came in and sat on the edge of my bed with my present—a pillow in the shape of a dolphin. It made me think of Henrietta, the girl I’d met in Marin last year who was obsessed with dolphins. She had been one of the few friends I’d made down there. I hugged the soft pillow to my chest, my heart nearly hurting as badly as my head just to think I’d never return to Marin. I kept picturing Marko emerging from the sea to find an empty beach.

  ‘Can you please shut the curtains?’ I whispered. Lauren stared at me for a long moment before she dragged them closed. The darkness was a relief, a heavy black coat to hide inside. I drew the sheet up to my chin, even though the morning was already heating up.

  ‘Last night I was thinking, Poor Nana; now I’m thinking, Poor Pop,’ Lauren said. ‘Whether she’s present or living in the past, at least she’s happy.’

  I tossed the sheet back because I couldn’t get comfortable.

  ‘I know what you mean. It’s going to be so hard for him…’ I closed my sore eyes for a few seconds before opening them again. ‘We’ll have to help out heaps.’ My hand curled so tightly around Marko’s ring that the edges of the sun-shaped light crystal bit into my skin.

  Lauren stared at me for a long moment.

  ‘You know, you can still go…if you really want. I can stay and help Pop with Nan.’ She let out a long, depressed-sounding sigh. ‘It’s about time I did something useful around here, anyway.’

  Despite the throbbing, I shook my head and set the untouched toast on my bedside table. ‘No way. I have to stay.’

  Lauren scoffed and shook her head. ‘Seriously? You think I can’t handle looking after them? That you’re the only one who can do it?’ She laughed bitterly before storming out of the room.

  It was weird, as though she was trying to convince me to leave.

  I rolled onto my back and stared up at the ceiling. But even if Lauren could handle looking after them on her own, it didn’t make it okay for me to leave. Pop had said he’d be happy if he never set foot in Bob’s Bay again after I’d been found. He’d even wanted to sell the shack. But because no buyers had shown the slightest interest, most likely due to the bad financial climate, the shack had remained in the family. How would he and Nana react if I went missing again?

  At lunchtime, Nana, Pop and Lauren hauled me out of bed and to the table, where they sang ‘Happy Birthday’ and made me blow a one and an eight candle atop a massive chocolate cake with three different types of chocolate icing.

  We’d all decided on a lunchtime celebration so that we could each deal with the anniversary of Mum and Dad’s accident in our own private way during the evening.

  That night, after Nana and Pop had gone to the local bingo, while I washed the dishes, Lauren threw her dishcloth at the sink and said, ‘I’ve got another present for you.’

  She grabbed the keys to my car and headed for the garage.

  ‘Follow me.’

  I finished drying off the bundle of cutlery in my tea-towel and shoved it all i
n the drawer. ‘What’s going on?’ I asked, uneasy about going anywhere in a car with Lauren. She didn’t have her own car. She didn’t need one—plenty of guys were willing to take her places. The last time she had gotten behind the wheel, it was in Pop’s canary-yellow station wagon, and she’d bunny-hopped us all the way to the shops. The next day the brake pads had needed replacing and, as a result, she was banned from ever using Pop’s car again.

  ‘We’re going somewhere,’ she said with a mischievous glint in her eyes. ‘And I’m driving.’

  She got in the driver’s seat and pressed the roller-door button.

  I opened the passenger door and leaned in, restraining a groan. The last thing I wanted to do was go anywhere. I’d planned on spending the night cocooned in my bed bawling my eyes out.

  ‘I’ll only come if I drive.’

  Lauren made a face.

  ‘Jackson lets me—used to let me—drive his all the time. And anyway, it’s not like I don’t have a licence.’ Her blue eyes flared with indignation. ‘The West Australian licensing department approves of my driving, so why the hell can’t my own sister?’

  ‘Okay,’ I said apprehensively. I strapped myself in, hoping Jackson had been a good teacher.

  Lauren pulled out of the drive and onto the road without crashing into anything.

  So far so good, I thought to myself.

  ‘So, where are we going?’ I asked, pretending to sound interested. Going to the movies or a party or a club was not going to cut it when I knew Marko would be waiting for me at Bob’s Bay. But I was touched that she wanted to cheer me up.

  ‘Look in the back seat.’

  I did. My heart stopped when I saw two small travel bags that once belonged to my mum.

  ‘What is all this? You know I’ve already decided not to go.’

  Lauren snorted. ‘Yeah, and like you’d be any help to Nana and Pop in the state you’ve been in all day. You’re going. There is no way I’m passing up the opportunity to meet this Marko guy.’

  ‘It’s called a migraine and it’s not like I could help it.’ I sighed. My words sounded lame because they were. I’d been a burden today, plain and simple.

  I stared out the car window, into the black night.

  The backs of my eyes burned as I recalled waving my grandparents off as they’d headed out to bingo. Nana’s eyes had twinkled at the prospect of catching up with friends and winning a game. She’d forgotten the anniversary of her daughter’s death in the space of an hour. I was almost grateful to Alzheimer’s for that. Maybe she’d forget me too. Maybe it was better if she did.

  Lauren changed lanes so she could enter south onto the freeway, and increased speed once we were on it. Her driving had improved, and at this time of night the road was empty.

  My insides, however, were the opposite. My stomach was crammed full with an assortment of feelings as we journeyed closer and closer to Bob’s Bay: excitement, guilt, sadness and fear.

  What if Marko failed to show? I’d never considered the possibility until now. I wasn’t certain I could handle the idea of never knowing why he hadn’t showed up.

  Lauren tossed a packet of snake lollies at me. ‘Oy, open these.’ She snuck a peek at me before turning her eyes back onto the road. ‘You leaving or staying is not going to change the fact that Nana has Alzheimer’s. Yes, you would be an extra set of hands; but, like I said before, if you’re anything like you’ve been the past twelve hours then you’re actually going to make things worse. You’re this depressing, black cloud hanging over everyone.’

  I tore open the pack of snakes and handed Lauren a red one, her favourite, before tossing the packet onto the dash. My stomach was churning so badly I worried if I ate a lolly I’d throw it back up.

  The deep hum of the car’s engine drowned out the silence between us.

  After a while the quiet got to me.

  ‘Why do you suddenly want me to go? You’ve just spent the past month or so trying to convince me otherwise. Just last night you were trying to lure me to stay with cute guys.’

  Lauren’s fingers tightened around the steering wheel. ‘Yeah, well, things change.’ A dark look crossed her face for a moment but then it brightened. ‘Oh, and, I’ve got some news that’ll make you feel better. Nana’s sister, Great Aunt Lynn, is coming to stay. She arrives next week. Situation sorted.’

  ‘Really?’ I exhaled, as if I’d been holding my breath for a month. If Nana and Pop had help coming by way of Aunt Lynn, then I’d probably get in the way, especially since Lauren was helping out so much. My sister was right. I’d be some drab, depressed shadow hanging around the house, darkening everybody’s moods. It would be in the best interests of everyone for me to leave as planned.

  ‘I’m really going, then,’ I said out loud.

  ‘Yep,’ said Lauren, grinning. ‘I even packed your ring—you left it on the kitchen bench while you were doing the dishes.’

  I reached frantically for my bag and fished it out before slipping it onto my naked finger. I wondered if Marko would want me to give back his grandmother’s ring, seeing as he wanted me to return freely and not as his captive fiancée. Surely Sylvia would have a tantrum and demand I return it.

  ‘Will I get to meet him? As in, speak to him?’ Lauren asked, grinning.

  I smiled, unable to stop myself. I was going to see Marko, in a matter of hours. If he actually showed.

  ‘I suppose.’ I fished out a green snake and bit off its head. ‘You can wait in the water with me. Give me a send off.’ My teeth started to chatter, despite the warm night.

  ‘Nervous much?’ Lauren asked.

  I rested my head against the headrest, pictured Marko’s beautiful face, and let out a nervous sigh.

  ‘Much. Very, very much.’

  CHAPTER THREE

  LAUREN TWISTED THE knob and gave the shack door a good nudge with her hip before it opened. The salty air had rusted the hinges over the years, making it stiff and creaky. The screen door slapped my backside as I entered, and the familiar musty scent of childhood greeted my nose.

  The kitchen globe had died, so Lauren lit a kerosene lamp and set it, along with our gear, on the wooden dining table in the centre of the cramped space.

  My stomach rolled and churned. My time with Lauren was so limited. There wasn’t a spare minute to breathe among the mixed emotions I was drowning in.

  The things Lauren quickly unpacked—clothes, makeup, chocolates and a bottle of bubbly—sat on the kitchen table untouched while she frantically shoved me into the shower for a last minute makeover.

  ‘You’re going to need serious help if you’re going to be escorted by a gorgeous king to a glittering underwater city full of beautiful people,’ she said to me.

  And, though all her hard work was going to get washed away the minute I entered the ocean, I went along with her plans because I wanted our last moments to be good ones.

  After I dressed, Lauren dried my hair and fixed my eyes and lips with waterproof mascara and some lip gloss.

  The clock on the kitchen wall, batteries flat, was stuck at seven o’clock, but I knew that we were nearing on midnight. Marko was probably out there, right now, in the water.

  Oh God. It was really happening.

  Lauren uncorked the bottle without any ceremony and took a single swig. ‘I won’t have any more because I need to drive back later. Here. Dutch courage,’ she said, a sad smile on her lips and a single tear running down her cheek.

  I took the bottle and brought it to my lips. ‘Thanks.’ I swallowed a huge mouthful and fizzy drink spilled out of my mouth and down my chin. Lauren cracked up laughing and I joined her. It was hysterical laughter, the kind that tumbles out when you’re terrified.

  And then it struck me. I might not see my sister again—ever. What if, when I returned to Marin, the city’s magnetic pull—the compulsion—prevented me from returning? As it was I hadn’t wanted to return home last year. The only reason I’d ended up doing so was because Marko had insisted on it for my o
wn safety at the time. He was concerned it was the compulsion that had me wanting to stay with him and not my own will.

  I took Lauren’s hand in mine and gave it a squeeze, while gripping the neck of the bottle with my other hand.

  ‘I wish we could all live in Marin together—you, me, Nana and Pop. Then life would be perfect again. It would be so much easier for us all.’ Tears streamed down my cheeks and suddenly everything I’d felt since the day Mum and Dad had died imploded inside my chest. There was so much I wanted to say but not enough time to say it.

  ‘I wish that too,’ said Lauren, releasing my hand to wipe her cheeks with a threadbare tea-towel.

  I sniffed and took another sip.

  ‘When you’re down there, the pain doesn’t seem as bad, Loz. Up here, the house, Mum and Dad’s empty bedroom, even this shack, everything reminds me of them.’ I gestured with the bottle to the screen door, through which we could hear seagulls shrieking in the night like witches on broomsticks. ‘Down there…somehow, you live in the moment and forget all…all of this.’ I shook my head. ‘I don’t know how to explain it.’

  Lauren tossed the now-wet tea-towel aside so that she could stuff her tear-stained face into a pair of oven mitts that were hanging on a hook nearby.

  ‘I want to say Happy Birthday but it seems wrong,’ she said, her voice muffled.

  I took another swig from the bottle and swallowed, the action stalling my tears.

  ‘I don’t feel eighteen. I mean, I don’t feel like what I imagined it would feel like to be eighteen. It’s weird. It’s good but it’s not like I’m celebrating or anything.’

  There was nothing festive about tonight, about me running from my problems and escaping into a fantasy world. But I tipped my head back and let the liquid bubbles spill down my throat. The drink burned inside my belly and reminded me of my time in Marin. I hadn’t drunk any alcohol since then. I left the bottle on the table.

  Lauren sucked in a deep breath and grabbed my hand, and, after extinguishing the kero lamp, we started towards the door. Outside, there was a half-moon, for which I was grateful. I wanted to see Marko’s face again. To see if it was as I’d remembered.