Earthquake Baby. Amy Andrews
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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.’
‘Doesn’t seem too satisfying at the moment.’
‘Oh, Jack. Sure, we get crazy busy and we lose some. But you know what it’s like! Nothing gives me a bigger thrill than seeing a critically ill patient get better and go home. Knowing you’ve been part of that is the best feeling.’
‘You still need to look after yourself. It’s not uncommon for post-traumatic stress to set in years after the initial incident. Maybe a word to Marie—’
‘Don’t you dare! Don’t you dare interfere with my work.’ She glowered at him.
‘Steady, Laura. No need to get upset.’
‘Oh, for God’s sake, Jack. You’re back in my life for two minutes and you’re interfering already. I think I’m allowed to be a little cross. I’m not a lost, scared twenty-year-old any more. Besides—no one at work knows. I’d like to keep it that way.’
‘It’s amazing you’ve been able to keep it quiet. No one ever recognised you?’
‘Well, I didn’t start here until a couple of years after Newvalley and the hype had died down by then. Plus, most people don’t know that my real name is Mary. I’ve been called by my middle name all my life, but thankfully backpacker hostels check you in as the name on your passport. As far as Australia’s concerned, the girl under the building was Mary Scott, not Laura.’
‘But…you’ve never confided in anyone?’
‘When you have photographers who’ll use every trick in the book to get a picture, it’s hard to know who to trust any more. I’ve had to become a very private person, Jack. When I started here I didn’t want any special treatment or be an item of curiosity. I’ve struggled to keep a low profile. If my past came out, it’d be all around the hospital…the press would find out…’
Jack’s face told her he thought she was exaggerating.
‘It’s true Jack. Every year, my lawyer is still inundated with offers from the media for an interview.’
‘You’re not serious?’
‘Unfortunately, yes. My lawyer thinks I should get an agent.’
‘You could be a rich woman, Laura.’
‘My memories are private and not for sale. Besides, I have to protect…’
‘Protect?’
‘Myself,’ she said rather lamely, thrown by how easily she had almost let the cat out of the bag. ‘And my family and the people I work with. The last thing anybody here needs is a three-ring circus following me around.’
‘Some people would kill for that kind of attention.’
‘Not me.’ She shuddered. ‘Those first few months after…the media camped out on my doorstep. That’s why I moved to Queensland.’
‘I had no idea you were on TV that much.’
‘I wasn’t. I declined all interviews and avoided the vultures like the plague. But it didn’t stop them from trying! Anyway, they finally grew tired of my constant refusals and decided to leave me alone.’
‘It must have been hard to get your life back together with that kind of scrutiny.’
‘You can say that again!’
So deeply engrossed in conversation were they that Laura and Jack had not noticed the arrival of other people. Splashing in the water alerted them. Laura checked her watch.
‘Please, think about coming to Newvalley with me.’
‘No, Jack,’ she said firmly.
‘Well,