Enza Gandolfo - The Bridge

‘It’s okay,’ Sarah said. ‘You’re worried.’

Sarah suggested tea and Mandy made it.

‘Let’s go outside,’ Mandy said once the tea was made. ‘Since Jo left I can’t stand being in the house.’

The morning clouds had cleared and it was a sunny afternoon. Next door, Mandy’s neighbour mowed the lawn and the whiff of cut grass floated over the fence. In the distance, there was the non-stop drone of traffic.

‘Two days ago I came home from work and thought she wasn’t here,’ Mandy told Sarah. ‘I could tell straightaway the house was empty. I looked out the back window and she was sitting under the gum tree — so still. I went out there and asked her if she was okay. “I locked myself out,” is all she said. “You went out?” I said. I was surprised. But she didn’t answer, and wouldn’t tell me where she’d been. She walked past me and went to her room. She hadn’t been out since the accident — as far as I know.’

‘But you have no idea where she might have gone or why?’

‘No. That night we had dinner. Or I had dinner — I called her, but she didn’t come out of her room until later. I’d finished eating. I’d put her dinner away. She ate it cold. I tried a couple of times to have a conversation, but she didn’t respond. Yesterday, when I came home from work, she was gone. She left a note, saying she’s sorry and that she had to go. Telling me not to stress, she’ll be back. That she’ll let me know where she is in a few days.’ Mandy passed the note to Sarah and watched her read it. ‘That’s it. I tried to ring her, but there was no answer. Later, I found her phone on her bed.’

‘What did she take?’

‘Not much. Some clothes. A small backpack, I think.’

‘So long as she obeys the bail conditions, it’ll be fine. She shouldn’t leave the state, and she’ll need to let the police know she’s moved and her new address. And because she’s moved out of here, she’ll have to report to the police station once a week. Let’s wait a couple of days and see if she contacts you. If she doesn’t, we will have to tell the police.’

Mandy nodded. ‘I’m so worried.’

‘I know. If you hear from her, let me know. Get a number from her so I can talk to her.’

‘Her grandmother is in a panic. She thinks I should go looking for her.’

‘Where would you start looking?’

‘I don’t know. In the past whenever she’s run off, it’s been to Ashleigh’s.’

‘Let’s wait a couple of days. Time away might even help. I hope she finds somewhere to go that’ll give her a break. You know, in ancient Israel, they used to have several small cities outside the main city — they called them cities of refuge, and they sent people like Jo there.’

‘People like Jo — what does that mean?’

‘Sorry, I mean people who’d accidentally killed or injured someone. It was partly for their protection.’

‘Do you think Jo needs protection?’

Sarah thought about Ashleigh’s father at the window the day she dropped off the clothes. She thought about Ashleigh’s mother at Mandy’s doorstep. ‘No, I don’t think she needs protection, but getting away from Yarraville, for a while, might be good for her.’

‘It’s my fault she left. I can’t seem to… I feel like I fell out of love with Jo the night of the accident. I loved her more than I’ve ever loved anyone, more than I loved my mother, but it’s a memory, it’s gone, that obsessive, pure love, and I can’t seem to get it back. I don’t know how to love her anymore.’ Mandy was sobbing. ‘Jo knows. She looks at me, and she can see, she knows. That’s not supposed to happen.’

It seemed to Sarah that Mandy was stuck, like a rabbit in the hunter’s spotlight. She was stuck on her front doorstep on the night of the accident, overwhelmed with shame and anger that would not shift.

‘I’m sure you love Jo. You’re angry, you’re grieving, all those feelings are getting in the way,’ Sarah said. But in truth, she had puzzled over a parent’s ability to give unconditional love — especially when in the case of some of her clients, the child was cruel, ruthless, vicious.

‘I should’ve been glad to see she was alive and unhurt. She was alive, and she could’ve died. She came so close to dying. I should’ve run to her; instead, I didn’t want to go to the hospital at all. I should’ve held her like I did when she was a baby and fell out of the cot or fell over, and she would sob, and I’d hold her to my chest and everything would be alright again. Those moments, the warm smell, the press of her body into mine — it was everything. But I didn’t open my arms to catch her and she didn’t run to me. I didn’t hold her, I couldn’t make everything right again. I wanted to run away.’

‘You and Jo will work through this. It’s still so raw.’

‘The last four or five years she has been awful — she’s been such a bitch to live with. But I kept on loving her, supporting her… Driving drunk, the accident, was too much.’ Mandy paused. ‘I saw Ashleigh’s grandparents walking down the street yesterday. I was on the other side of the road. I hid around the corner. I told myself it’d be painful for them to see me. But I’m a coward. I’ve no idea what to say to them. What can I say? “I’m sorry my daughter killed your granddaughter?”’

‘Jo didn’t… you shouldn’t say “killed”, Mandy. It was an accident.’

‘The point is, I am ashamed. Ashamed of being Jo’s mother and ashamed of Jo. I can’t help it. I used to envy Rae. She’s so confident. Whenever I talked to her I felt like I was a child and she was the adult. Like I was back at school… like any moment she might tell me off for not behaving like a lady. I’m not saying — I mean, she was nice and friendly and good to Jo, and I was good to Ashleigh. She was a little stuck-up, Ashleigh, I mean, sometimes, but I was good to her…’

‘I’m sure you were, Mandy, you’re a kind person.’

‘No, sometimes I’m mean. Sometimes I was mean to the girls. They got on my nerves, so irresponsible. Now I’m constantly going back and forth between wishing I was nicer to them and regretting not being more of a tyrant, not putting my foot down. Not stopping them. I should’ve stopped Jo from taking the car… I didn’t even try. I didn’t even say, “If you’re going to drink, don’t drive.” I could’ve given them taxi money.’

‘If we had the foresight, we’d all do things differently, but we don’t. None of us knows what is around the corner.’ Sarah hated platitudes, but she didn’t know what else to say. Why hadn’t Mandy — sensible Mandy, who she’d grown to like — why hadn’t she said anything? Why didn’t she take the car keys and stop her daughter from driving?

‘I heard a story,’ Mandy said, ‘of a man who was driving when he noticed the car in front of him was swerving from lane to lane and even into the gutter. The driver was drunk or drugged or falling asleep, so when they stopped at the lights, the man jumped out, ran over to the car in front, and knocked on the window, and, when the driver rolled down his window, he reached in and took the key and threw it as hard and as far as he could. And then he jumped back into his car and drove away without looking back. He probably saved a couple of lives that day.’

‘You have to stop blaming yourself, Mandy. It doesn’t help either of you. Let’s hope you hear from her in the next day or two,’ Sarah said. ‘Try not to worry before then.’ Sarah put down her cup and picked up her handbag. She hated to leave Mandy like this, but she was running late for her next appointment with a new client, a young man charged with drug dealing. He’d been caught outside a local school and his parents were in a panic. And there were only so many hours she could fudge before Eric would notice.