In Jeopardy (22 page)

‘Yep – I’ve been there myself.’

‘Where – I’ve lost you?’

‘We were talking about the asthmatic boy who nearly died.’

‘And your brush with death impressed on you the frailty of human life?’

‘Before then I envisaged my life stretching into infinity. It wasn’t until I lay in the street that I stared death and its finality in the face.’

‘Have you considered that there might be life beyond death?’

‘I’m an atheist.’

‘Is that because of our Catholic upbringing?’

‘Absolutely! Mum and dad were pretty open-minded and encouraged free thinking while the church presented a grim world of polarities. If you were obedient and lived a saint’s life you inherited a place in heaven; if you weren’t you were damned and punished after death. The Church is a medieval paradigm with its cluster of powerful men. They are paper tigers perpetrating hollow myths.’

‘Did the papists scare you enough to turn you into an atheist?’

‘When I lost consciousness in the street no God or angels carried me to hospital. What about you? What impression did they make on you?’

‘By the time I was subjected to them they had loosened their grip.’

‘But they got you.’

‘I’m neither Christian nor atheist. The six years I spent at the Catholic girls’ school excited me in the beginning. We seemed to always be in church. God’s house was an exotic pantomime. The ancient chapel had a gabled roof decorated with wooden beams, marbled floors and statues of saints. Orchestral music, bells and the infusion of frankincense heightened the atmosphere. Stories of Jesus, miracles performed and his gruesome death were an amusing diversion from dull classroom subjects.

‘We celebrated saints’ days. These were elaborate puppet shows originally put in place by the founding fathers of St Peter’s church. By my last years of schooling I got tired of this. Stories that used to spark my imagination became dull fairy tales and part of the church’s childish games.’

‘Then you managed to avoid being swallowed up by their seductive propaganda?’

‘I just grew up and recognised that only children and the gullible believed those stories.’

‘You sound sensibly irreligious.’

‘Would you be surprised if I said I wasn’t?’

Julian looks confused.

‘Have you ever seen or heard something you can’t explain?’

‘Like the girl I dated who turned out to be a boy?’

‘You’re a bit of a dark horse – not the straight brother I thought you were. That’s not the kind of strange encounter I’m talking about.’

He looks at her enquiringly.

‘Has something ever dropped from the sky metres above your head then disappeared? Have you ever woken up at night and watched a figure walk out of a dream or from somewhere you can’t explain?’

Julian shakes his head.

‘Bleary eyed and from my bed I have watched groups of figures, oblivious to my presence enter the room I am sleeping in then walk through the wall. Most of my life I have crossed paths with beings that are clearly not of this world.’

‘Have you recently had one of these experiences?’

‘You’re a sceptic aren’t you?’

‘It doesn’t mean I’m not interested in what you have to say.’

‘Since I first witnessed these occurrences I’ve never been afraid of what I’ve seen. Snapshots of future events tormented me. After the first dream materialised in my waking world I believed these visions were warnings of events that might unfold. Days before our parents were killed I woke up several nights in a row after viewing the scene of a car travelling along a street. This was followed by the explosion of a camera flash I later interpreted to be the car crash.’

‘This must be a burden.’

‘It’s not the kind of discussion I’d initiate with a colleague. I can’t risk having my professional judgment questioned, or worse, my sanity.’

‘Did you ever mention this to Richard?’

‘Shit no! He’d have laughed in my face. Despite his lifestyle, Richard’s conservatism would have forbidden him to entertain any ideas of the esoteric.

‘Since his sister Sylvia died when she was a child my former mother-in-law spoke about seeing her. She claimed to see her image in the fire, in water or clouds rolling across the sky. Richard reckoned his mother’s mind had gone to his sister’s grave. He believed that Sylvia had more power over his mother than anything from the here and now.’

‘Did you think he might use your secret as a weapon against you?’

‘No. As I said, I think it’s more likely that embarrassment would have silenced him. He wouldn’t want to risk his associates laughing behind his back that his wife’s a crackpot.’

‘So, your insight doesn’t assist you on such matters?’

‘It doesn’t provide readymade answers. I know my estranged husband well enough to expect that he would use any weapon against me if it served his interests – for this reason I’m glad I said nothing. I didn’t invite this strange phenomenon into my life and I’ve tried to push it away. The Church’s orthodox take on this type of activity condemns such phenomena; they judge it as dangerous and consorting with evil.’

‘Do you care what the Church thinks?’

‘No, but Christian teachings loosely reflect conventional belief.’

‘Do you realise how far we have strayed from our initial conversation?’

‘Which was?’

‘Your workload and welfare.’

‘There’s nothing more to say on the matter. You tell me, the doctor tells me, Kath tells me to scale back my work and I have.’

‘I’m afraid that fewer hours at the hospital will be sucked up by another form of busyness.’

She gives a brief, bleak laugh. ‘I’m exhausted. What could tempt me?’

‘Your latest step is impressive. Take it further by taking leave. Your work will always be there to return to.’

‘I can’t consider that option since I no longer have the luxury of a wealthy husband to prop up my life.’

‘You could consider a career change.’

‘I don’t need the added burden of finding new employment. I want to spend my day off sleeping in.’

He chuckles, ‘Now that’s a step in the right direction.’

Julian and Kath set wheels of fire turning in Christine’s mind. She gives her best to her patients, pulling many of them from death and back to life. She embraces the challenges her vocation throws at her. Work at the hospital is far preferable to Richard’s expectation that she become a bored and indulged society wife. She could have complied with his expectations and been the perfect decoration, joined a book or tennis club and spent her days engaged in small talk around the pool, sipping chardonnay.

There has to be another occupation she can turn her hand to. Her life is ripe for change and the seeds of impatience have been sown around her bones.

Christine’s day off work leaves her less harried. As weeks pass she wants to pull further away from the hospital. She doesn’t miss the rushed pace, the blood, the broken bones and the ever turning treadmill. Away from work she increasingly combs her mind and mulls over alternative career paths. Some of these options require training and further study. While the divorce and settlement process grinds on these are plans she has to put on hold. Change hangs in the wind, but hinges on closing the final chapters of her marriage as she contemplates a new life. She approaches the hospital administration and enquires about her leave entitlement then applies for leave. As she waits for the application to be processed she makes plans to research other career options.

Over a break in the cafeteria she tells Kath about her plans. ‘While I’m waiting for the divorce and property settlement to come through I could work in Myer, another equally iconic department store, or a zoo.’

Kath’s blank look doesn’t disguise her doubts about Christine’s sentiments.

‘You don’t approve?’

‘You can’t be serious. You will shrivel from boredom. I expect that kind of work would be a fleeting novelty before you hated it.’

‘I’ve become stale, and I’ll soon be of no use to the team.’

‘This is just exhaustion talking. You have a rare gift for this work, you know this.’

‘I did once…’

‘What do you mean?’

‘I can’t count the number of shifts when I’ve left this place with a blank mind and have few recollections of the day.’

‘We all have days like that – don’t look so shocked!’

‘Next you’ll say something crazy like I should go on a holiday to some faraway tropical paradise.’

‘Actually I wasn’t – but what a great idea. I could be tempted.’

‘But you do have an idea don’t you?’

‘Give yourself the time to plan for something more long term – something that will occupy your mind.’

‘Sounds like you’ve crawled into my head.’

‘You will always be well placed in a hospital – you were born for this work.’

‘I’m burnt out and don’t think I can stand it here anymore.’

‘You’re not the first medical worker to feel this way. And you’re one of the best I’ve worked with.’

Christine didn’t plan to become a nurse. She had the common girl’s dream of being a ballet dancer up to her early teens. When she was in upper secondary school her career preferences reflected her subject interests which were maths and science. She wanted to study pharmacy and considered a science degree before extending her options to occupational therapy then nursing. She gained a place in pharmacy, but not at the university she chose. She dismissed the science degree as it didn’t lead to a specific vocation. She chose nursing as she didn’t have the grades for occupational therapy.

Kath bursts in on her thoughts. ‘Have you considered medicine? You would make a brilliant doctor.’

‘I haven’t. What kind of medical administrator do you think I’d make?’

‘You’d find that kind of work dull. You like the human contact – and the drama.’

Kath also suggests that occupational therapy is an alternative. One that would require several years at university, something Christine reasons she cannot act on until the final outcome of her settlement. This could as easily be a pittance as a fortune, it’s anyone’s guess.

Kath makes a suggestion that surprises Christine. ‘Would you consider teaching nursing at a tertiary institution?’

That option wouldn’t require years of full-time study.

Weeks, two months at most, the Blacks will return. Christine appreciates that house-sitting gives her a reprieve from house-hunting and an opportunity to spend time with her brother in a comfortable home. Elliot’s medical ailments have become a burden and possibly the final push that forces her to reassess working in a hospital. She resigns herself to the inevitability that her brother will return to London, accepting that it wouldn’t be right for her to lean on him indefinitely.

In the space of weeks three key strands of Christine’s life connect, propelling her into the next stage. The first happens one Saturday morning when Elliot bangs furiously at the back door demanding attention. Christine is reading in the living room, the spaniels lie on the floor, one chews at a squeaky toy.

Her heart leaps. She panics, half expecting Elliot’s appearance is a medical emergency, then realises if this was the case the apartment would have become eerily quiet. Excited and in a flap Elliot chastises her for not snapping to attention sooner. ‘I called and called out and when you didn’t answer I thought it would be me attending to a medical emergency.’

‘I wasn’t in the kitchen, I didn’t hear you.’

‘Where’s the young fella?’

‘He’s gone for a walk to the park.’

‘Without taking the spaniels – that’s not like him.’

She shrugs then raises her hands indicating she doesn’t have an explanation.

Unable to contain his excitement he gushes, ‘Morris and Fiona will be home in two weeks.’

At Thornton’s office, he informs Christine that his appeal to the court to further investigate Richard’s financial circumstances has been granted. He wants to rule out the possibility that since the previous forensic audit large sums of money have been deposited into these accounts. He also managed to have funds frozen while the settlement remains undecided.

His next question is peculiar. ‘You’ll recall providing me with names of Banks’ closest and deceased relatives. Although this investigation failed to uncover evidence, with your permission I want to repeat this process. This would be the last of these three exercises.’

She asks him to justify these last steps. He explains that since months have passed Banks may well have shifted cash into accounts with minimal balances from accounts Thornton has not been able to trace. She asks about the seventy five per cent claim made in exchange for not pressing charges resulting from the threats her estranged husband made against her. Thornton informs her that there has still been no response.

‘They’re hedging their bets, I suspect; confident that the undisclosed assets are well hidden. Banks and his solicitor are trying your patience, expecting that if they hold out long enough you will tire of the process and want to wrap up the settlement.’

‘Aren’t you being overly optimistic?’

‘I’m taking a calculated risk – of course on your behalf – I believe this is in your best interests.’

‘This will no doubt add to my costs.’

‘Consider my charges as an investment.’ He pauses. ‘Well, it’s your decision to act or not to act on my advice, but you’ve already paid for the application costs I’ve outlined. You are wise to ask these questions.’ He pauses again. ‘But I strongly urge you weigh up the personal costs.’

She nods agreement, also relaying the impression that those costs have already been reached.

‘You must consider how long you can stand this process dragging on.’

‘Can you give me an estimated timeframe for my options?’

‘Each scenario depends entirely on how the other party responds. Given their record I expect they will stall for time, continue to test your patience. You must remember, your estranged husband holds the majority of your shared wealth. While he remains in your home you are required to fund alternative accommodation. It’s likely that he’s relying on the hope that as your funds dwindle, you’ll run up debt, you’ll despair and become desperate enough to consolidate your wealth and agree to settle on the minimum sum he’s required to pay you.’