God, I miss us.
‘Ah, snarky, judgemental comments about reality TV while reading a good book does sound more like me,’ Leo laughs, but then another thought strikes him, ‘And my family? Is everyone okay? Has anything happened that I need to know about before I call Mum?’
I’m glad of the change of topic. I don’t want to spend too much time reminiscing about our happier days together – I really can’t bear to think of it at all, the loss is still too raw. I spend the next few minutes bringing Leo up to speed on the Stephens family news. I tell him about his nephews – Baxter and River – two unbelievably energetic children who run his step-sister Teresa ragged. I show him photos on my phone and Leo tells me that he thinks they look a bit like him. I laugh at him, because he has no biological link to those children but this is exactly what he said when he saw each of them as newborns.
I tell him that his mum is fit and well as usual, and that his step-father Andrew still works far too hard but is also well. I don’t tell him about the work Andrew and I do together yet – there’s just too much to explain, and it will be easier in Sydney when I can let him see for himself.
Later, a nurse brings a tray of food, which Leo devours and then I set up a video call to his parents. Anne sobs most of the way through the call and keeps forgetting it’s a video call and keeps lifting the phone to her ear, but both Andrew and Leo are typically busy trying to maintain their tough macho fa?ade. Each man spends an awful lot of time clearing his throat and turning away from the camera, but I know them both too well to fall for it for even a second. When the call is finished, I see Leo is starting to tire.
‘You’ll sleep at the hotel tonight, right?’ he asks me.
‘Unless you don’t want me to? I can stay but I’ve got a heap of calls to make later,’ I tell him.
‘I’m fine now. Just get a decent night’s sleep, okay?’
This interchange feels strange but it’s familiar, because in the beginning that was exactly how Leo was: attentive, sensitive, thoughtful. But it’s also unfamiliar, because this year he’s been so distant. I had almost forgotten how cared for I felt in the beginning.
Back at the hotel, I spend half the night on the phone trying to find a suitable specialist rehabilitation centre with a vacancy. I manage to line up accommodation for Leo, but it’s on the other side of Sydney and even as I accept the place, I wonder how we’re going to make it work. Next, I catch up with my assistant Tobias and he offers to organise the jet and necessary staff for the following afternoon.
When I finally hang up, the still silence of the hotel room around me belies the frantic pace of my thoughts. I can barely believe that we’re actually going home… both of us.
I climb into bed, but unable to sleep, I lie staring up at the ceiling, trying to figure out what to tell Leo and when. It will be an equation I have little hope of solving alone, but I can’t exactly ask for help either, because I don’t think anyone other than Leo and I could ever understand what went wrong between us.
8
Leo – January 2011
I have never considered myself an impulsive man, but I am instinct driven. When my gut tells me to do something, I almost always do it – without always without thinking things through. It is both a strength and a weakness when it comes to my work. When instinct tells me to pursue an angle, I do so with a single-minded focus on pushing for the rare stories – the stories that happen outside the safe zone and past the front line, probing deeper than the surface level happenings that most of my colleagues would capture in the field.
When it came to Molly, my instincts sounded loudly after that dinner at the café. I needed to see her again. I didn’t just want to – I needed to. It was the only way I was going to figure out if the connection I’d felt with her was falsely induced by the depth of the discussions we’d had around her brother’s death. I did hesitate a little – I knew that I couldn’t exactly call her and ask her out on a date without some kind of segue from the tone of our first chats. Declan was both my excuse to see her again, and the reason I had to tread carefully.
By Thursday, I had decided that I would organise a catch up and check in with her about Dec, then see what happened if I led our conversation away from him. When I had a clear plan in my mind, I called her.
‘Hello, Leo,’ she greeted me warmly.
‘Hi, Molly. Did I catch you at a good time?’
‘There’s never a good time,’ she sighed, but there was a smile in her voice. ‘How are you? How’s the shoulder?’
‘I’m delighted to say that I have graduated from the sling.’
‘That is good news. Back at work, then?’
‘Not yet, but soon – I’m still not allowed to do much. But at least I can cut up my own food now.’