Earthquake Baby

‘I had help,’ she said.

‘So did I, actually. And that’s when I knew I wanted to become a psychiatrist. So I studied people’s minds instead of their anatomies. And here I am today.’

‘Here you are,’ she whispered, and squeezed his hand.

‘So.’ He lifted her left hand and inspected it. ‘No wedding ring.’

‘No.’ She smiled. ‘Never married.’

‘C’mon Laura, they must be lining up! You’re even more beautiful than I remembered,’ he said gently, as he brushed his fingers through her fringe.

She closed her eyes and shrugged. ‘What about you? No wedding band either?’

‘Divorced.’

Laura felt her eyes widen as she sat more upright. He had been married! Surely not? Jack was sexy as hell and no doubt attracted women like bees to a honey pot but, if her memory served her correctly, he had never wanted to get seriously involved.

They had spent hours talking while she had lain beneath the rubble of the backpackers’ hostel. Marriage, kids, all that ‘settling down’ stuff had definitely not been on his agenda. His career had been his only focus. She must have been a hell of a girl!

‘Any children?’ She held her breath.

‘No, thank goodness.’ His tone was tense, forbidding.

She tried not to flinch. It seemed he was still not enamoured about the idea of being a father. Oh, Isaac. Obviously her decision to keep quiet about their son had been justified.

‘What happened?’

‘Long story,’ he said dismissively. ‘So, are you coming to the memorial service next week?’

‘No.’

‘You’ve never been to any.’ His tone was accusing.

‘I went to the first.’ Her tone was defensive.

Their eyes met and held as she remembered that day and what had happened later in his apartment. They’d made Isaac together that afternoon. They had made love like it had been their last night on earth and they the only two people in the world, clinging desperately to each other, trying to find solace and stability in a world that had been turned upside down.

Jack remembered it vividly. He remembered holding her as she had broken down.

‘I thought I was going to die,’ she had said over and over, as huge sobs had racked her slim body. He couldn’t even begin to imagine how she must have felt—trapped for twelve hours before they’d located her and then for a further eight as rescue teams had worked frantically to dig her out.

He’d thought she was going to die too on a couple of occasions as the unstable foundations had rocked and shifted, buffeted by aftershocks rumbling deep beneath the earth. He’d been helpless to do anything but be there with her, hold her hand, talk. That she had survived was a miracle.

Slowly her sobs had subsided and Jack remembered her embarrassment and then the sudden rush of passion that had taken over as two traumatised people had tried to find a haven together. It had been unexpected—spontaneous—and Jack doubted that either of them could have stopped it. It had been sweet and intense and as he sat opposite her now, he knew he wanted to experience it again.

‘Sometimes I wish I hadn’t gone.’ She broke into their memories.

‘You don’t mean that, Laura.’

No, he was right. She didn’t. Isaac had come from that day. The one great thing that had come out of the whole disaster. He had filled her life with love and joy. Isaac’s name meant laughter and that’s what he had brought to her life—laughter and happiness. Two emotions she hadn’t thought she would feel so soon after Newvalley.

‘No, I don’t,’ she conceded.

‘Come with me to Newvalley, Laura.’

‘No, Jack.’

‘It might be good closure, Laura. If not for you, for the others.’

‘There are no others.’

‘I mean the relatives of the victims, Laura. Every year they turn up and sit around wondering where you are and how you’re doing. They’d love to meet with you. See you’re OK.’

Laura was surprised. She’d never thought of it from that angle before.

‘You could be their closure, too.’

‘I don’t want to be their closure,’ she said tersely, and rose from the table. ‘It took me a couple of years of therapy to get to a point in my life where I could put it all behind me. I don’t want to go back. Rehash it. I can’t be someone else’s crutch.’

‘So don’t be. They won’t ask for anything that you can’t give them, Laura. They’re just people who lost loved ones and feel connected to you because you made it out alive. Let them be near you.’

She shoved her hands in her uniform pockets and paced.

‘I can’t, Jack. I don’t want to remember that time in my life. I want to leave it in the past, where it belongs.’

‘It’s part of who you are. Deny it at your own peril. It’ll creep up on you one day when you least expect it. Post-traumatic stress can be quite debilitating.’

Laura ignored him. She’d heard it all before. ‘I can’t just leave work at the drop of a hat.’

‘When was the last time you had a holiday?’

‘A year ago.’

‘You’ll be burnt out if you’re not careful.’

‘I’m sure I’m no more at risk than any of my colleagues.’

‘They don’t have your trauma history.’

‘Oh, please!’ She rolled her eyes.

‘Have you thought about working in a less stressful environment?’

‘I love ICU!’

‘There are plenty of other areas to work.’

‘Nothing that gives me the job satisfaction.’