August

Gab was on high alert now and it never stopped. She still slept in Jack’s room, as Gina’s search for spiritual answers to her existential hunger took her down ever more convoluted routes. She wanted answers, she wanted ‘healing’ (as she called it), she wanted to find her true self. She was absolutely convinced that revelation or enlightenment or zen or nirvana—whatever she chose to call it—was right around the corner. She lived her life in anticipation of looking around that next corner and finding the answer … only then to discover another corner that perhaps offered a better answer.

It was not uncommon for Gab to wake to noises in the night now, as Gina tossed and turned and fussed and spoke her strange prayers aloud. Jack had picked up on things too; it was impossible for him not to, and as much as Gab tried to shield him from it all, Jack also sensed her own anxiety, her edginess. Gab was worried about what he would tell Brian—not that she wanted to keep it all a secret, but she was afraid of the consequences. Mostly, she felt an impermeable impetus to protect her mother, to protect her mother’s reputation despite everything, and to protect the current structure of their home. What else did they have? Besides, she was the one dealing with it all; she could handle it and she would protect Jack. But Brian did hear strange stories from Jack about Gina’s erratic behaviour, and about Gab sleeping in his room and getting up at odd hours of the night.

It was a dark August night—winter, and cold. Gab had taken to waking with a jerk even when there was no noise, but this time, she was sure she’d heard one. Did she need to check? It was so warm in bed and so cold out there.

She thought she heard Gina shuffling down the passageway and turning on the kitchen light. Then she heard her shuffling back towards her room again; the door closed and the gentle clink of the hook in the eyelet signified the door having been locked. Gab was up in a flash, tiptoeing to her mother’s bedroom door. She knocked gently.

“Mum?”

No answer.

“Mum?” Gab’s heart was racing. “You okay?” Gina had become unpredictable; Gab had no idea what she might be planning to do. Gab was pretty sure she wouldn’t …

After thirty seconds of silence, Gab turned around and tiptoed to the kitchen. Maybe she’d be able to see what Gina had taken from there. She’d check that the knives were in place; that was the first thing. She flicked on the kitchen light.

Yes, knives in the knife block all present and accounted for. Just to be safe, she’d hide them in her bedroom. It would be an inconvenience when cooking dinner, but it would take a significant weight off her mind. She’d been toying with the idea of quietly confiscating the knives for ages, but it made the danger seem so real that she’d avoided it. Now it was time.

But first things first; why had Gina been in here? Maybe she’d just been getting a drink of water? A hot water bottle? Maybe … Gab scanned the room and her eyes rested on the top of the refrigerator. Gina’s medicine tub was gone. It was always usually there, waiting for Gina as soon as she got up in the morning to take her concoction of medications designed to keep her functional, if not well. But it wasn’t there, and Gab felt heavy darkness slice right through her. Not again. She ran back to her mother’s room.

“Mum? Mum, answer me!” she whispered urgently.

“Go away, Gabrielle.”

“No, Mum. I know you’ve got your pills in there. Why have you got them?”

“None of your business.”

“Have you got a headache? Are you taking Panadol?”

Gina pulled open the door a crack. She had locked it by slipping the little hook into its eyelet. Gab could see a sliver of her mother’s face, her bulging eye, her glistening skin.

“No, Gab,” she said, as if she was talking to someone whom she thought was very unintelligent. “I haven’t got a headache. I’ve locked myself in my room with my pills. What do you think I’m going to do?!” Then Gina shut the door.

Gab began to retch, then ran to the kitchen to grab a butterknife, trying to swallow what Gina had just said. She was going to get into her mother’s room and get those pills, and nothing was going stop her! Butterknife in hand, she was back at her mother’s door in the blink of an eye. She tried to open it a slit again, but Gina was leaning against it.

“Mum! Mum!” Gab whispered urgently. She did not want Jack to wake up and witness any of this, but apart from her voice, how else was she going to convince her mother to let her in right now?

No answer.

“MUM! Answer me!!” cried Gab, still trying to restrain herself to a whisper. But her mother would neither answer nor move.