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  However, Jess was right. Claire wasn’t Diane and Alex certainly wasn’t Andy. If Jess trusted them, she would, too. It was as simple as that. Plus, she liked Claire. If she was going to move to Melbourne, she and Claire might become friends, and because she’d lost touch with all her old school friends, knowing as many people as possible would ease the stress of the move.

  At four fifteen, she was convinced the only thing keeping her from sleeping was an annoying need to pee. The urge nagged at her until she huffed out of bed, her eyes barely open. She stopped outside Claire’s room and peered in through the small gap in the doorway. In the moonlight, she could see that the bed was empty and the covers were gone. Puzzled, she went to the bathroom and sat on the toilet, wondering where Claire was. Now almost fully awake, she returned to her own room and peered out the window. The old Ford in the driveway that must have been Claire’s was still there.

  What’s going on?

  It occurred to her that she should mind her own business and just go back to bed, but she really wanted to know where Claire was. She crept down the hall and into the kitchen. Nothing. The living room yielded more information. With the curtains open, she saw Claire’s satchel on the coffee table and some of its contents next to it. She gathered the pill boxes and took them to the window for extra light. The over-the-counter pills were harmless enough, although how anyone could sleep after taking them was a mystery. But where was Claire?

  The answer she was avoiding was obvious. Claire had to be upstairs with Jess and Alex. She returned to bed feeling disappointed her sister may have lied to her.

  Chapter Six

  It was midday when Alex shook Claire. “It’s time to get up. If you sleep any longer we’ll have difficulty getting you back to a normal sleeping pattern, especially after a week of night shift.”

  Claire felt like a truck had hit her. She pulled her knees to her chest to relieve the ache in her lower back, wondering how sleeplessness somehow managed to seep into every joint and muscle in her body.

  She didn’t want to relive last night, but it was impossible to block out. She showered in the en suite, dressed in the pile of clothes that sat on the end of the couch, all Jess’s and all too big, before facing her disastrous life.

  It was only by chance that Claire and Jess rekindled any kind of friendship after she returned home from Europe. Claire had been witness to a nasty assault at the hospital and Jess was the prosecutor. She admitted to having inappropriate thoughts initially, but that was only until she met Alex. Alex changed everything for the better. Jess was happy, unbelievably happy, and when Claire hooked up with Victoria, their ex-lover relationship altered and they became best friends with a history they refused to deny.

  Claire and Alex weren’t close until the day Alex was summoned for a consult on her ward after a patient confused himself with a guest on the Jerry Springer show and demonstrated his frustrations by violently redecorating the waiting room. Claire had been caught in the crossfire, or more accurately, a headlock, and because Alex could do little with the crazy bloke, other than sedation, she took Claire for coffee.

  That coffee turned into another coffee, then lunch, and it all made Jess happy.

  “How are you feeling this morning?” Jess asked.

  “Better for having slept, but I still feel like a bit of a plank. I mean, who was I kidding?”

  “Come here.” Jess pulled her into a tight embrace. “We’ll fix it now so don’t worry.”

  “Sorry to interrupt,” Kathryn said from the kitchen, her timing impeccable. “But Alex mentioned I could use the Wi-Fi. Is that okay?”

  “Of course.” Claire tried to pull away and was at risk of suffocating, but Jess wouldn’t let go. “The password is in the study on a note next to the computer.”

  Kathryn left with thanks.

  Jess released her grip. “Right, you. Step this way. My beautiful wife has something for you.”

  Jess led Claire outside, and Alex smiled, offering them both fresh juice from a chilled flask.

  “These are for you.” Alex handed her a copy of the contact details for the hospital’s employee assistance program, a free counselling service offered to assist staff in work and non-work related matters.

  “Can’t we work on this?” Claire wasn’t sure she could face talking to a stranger about her problems.

  “Trust me, you don’t want to be counselled by me and live with me. You mightn’t like what I have to say. Eventually, you’ll grow to hate me and then I’ll have no one to cuddle.”

  “I’m not staying, Alex. I appreciate everything you both do for me, but I don’t think moving in here is the answer.”

  Alex ignored her. “So, you’ll go to counselling? Talking about it and working through it is what will help you.”

  “I know you’re right.” Claire slumped, deflated.

  “I’ve spoken to Murray, who’s spoken to your boss. She’s approved two weeks’ leave. We’ll see Murray Monday morning to get you checked out; take some blood tests, etc.” She let Claire digest all this before continuing. “Now, about moving in.”

  “I’m not budging on this.”

  “If you’re not here, Jess will worry herself sick. I will, too, but in her condition, I don’t want her to worry at all. Do you?”

  “Nice emotional blackmail.” She looked to Jess for support, but nothing was forthcoming.

  “Psychiatry one oh one.” Alex grinned.

  “Well, thanks for the lesson.”

  “You’re welcome. Now let’s go to your place and collect some of your things.”

  *

  First thing Monday morning, after another sleepless night, Alex took Claire to see Murray.

  “Jesus, Paddy, what have you done? You look like shit.” Murray rarely minced her words.

  “I wish you wouldn’t call me that.”

  “I said you look like shit, I didn’t say you are shit.”

  “Not that. I wish you wouldn’t call me Paddy.”

  “It’s your name, well, your middle name. What’s wrong with it?”

  “I’m not Irish is what’s wrong with it.”

  “You look Irish.”

  Claire gave up and silently cursed her mother for marrying a man with the last name O’Malley and dreamily trying to pretend they were of Irish descent. They weren’t, well, not recent enough for it to matter anyway. “Can we just get on with this?”

  “Get your top off and hop up there.”

  Claire stripped to her bra and sat on the examination table.

  Murray measured her blood pressure first then frowned as she removed the cuff from Claire’s arm.

  “What was it?”

  “It’s up a bit.”

  “How much?”

  Murray ignored her and slipped a tourniquet around her upper arm before searching for a suitable vein to take blood. “You’re a little dehydrated.”

  Claire gritted her teeth while the needle moved inside her before finally piercing a vein. She looked away as the blood filled the syringe.

  Murray listened to Claire’s chest, purely routine, and then had her lie down while she poked and prodded, again routine, nothing out of the ordinary.

  “So, let’s talk about sleep.” Murray returned to her desk. “Alex is worried, and I’m not convinced pills will help you in the long run.” She eyed Claire. “What I really want to do is tell you I’m prescribing a high dose Temazepam, give them to Alex to administer, but in actual fact make them a low dose so you don’t start relying on strong sedatives. You think you need a high dose?”

  Claire nodded. She knew it was the wrong answer.

  “Well, you don’t, and I’m not giving them to you. You were smart enough to stay awake on non-prescription shit, so you’re smart enough to know knocking yourself out isn’t the answer either.” She scribbled on a prescription. “Low dose, seven days.” Her tone softened but her look remained firm. “You need the counselling, Paddy. That’s what will help you sleep.”

  *

&nbs
p; Claire reluctantly made the call to book counselling. The EAP counsellor was named Jean, and she slotted Claire in at six that evening. Alex drove her and waited in the foyer reading National Geographic.

  Jean and her office decor gave the impression that she was a breath away from chucking it all in and heading for the hills—naked. She certainly looked like she’d smoked way too much pot in her time.

  As a nurse, there were only so many rear end, front end, and belly button extractions you could do before learning that judging people was a mistake. So while Jean looked like a hippie from way back, as long as she could help, she could wear her tie-dye dresses, decorate however she liked, and worship Thomas the Tank Engine for all Claire cared.

  Jean was patient, compassionate, and probed gently as Claire explained her history with Victoria, the dreams, and her current sleepless situation. After crying at least a dozen times, Claire’s hour was up, but she was tasked homework and a week to complete it. Her undertaking was to ask three people to tell her one or two of her better qualities and write them down.

  What better qualities? Claire remained silent on the journey home, ignoring the intermittent concerned glances from Alex.

  *

  Jess arrived home and stood in the doorway smiling. Kathryn glanced around her, taking in what Jess was looking at. Claire was freshly showered and in her pyjamas setting cutlery on the table, Alex sat folding washing on the couch, looking almost as exhausted as Claire, and Kathryn was cooking dinner. It was the least she could do given everyone else had been busy all day.

  “Hi, Jess, what’s up?”

  Jess patted her stomach. “Nothing is up. I’m just smiling because my house is filled with all the people I care about.”

  “Is Claire okay?” She didn’t want to pry, but it was the first chance she’d had to ask.

  “She will be. She’s taking a couple of weeks off work to sort through a few things.”

  Kathryn nodded knowingly. “A broken heart.”

  “Well, not exactly. I think she’s come to terms with Victoria leaving. It’s difficult, of course, four years together is a long time. But I think she might need to work on her self-esteem.”

  “We’ve all been there, poor kid.”

  “She’s been having nightmares of killing Victoria.”

  “Jesus.” The stimulants she found over the weekend made more sense now. “Was she trying to stay awake?”

  “Yes. Stupid, I know, rubbish plan really, but she thought she was doing the right thing.”

  The emotional roller coaster journey Claire was enduring wasn’t anything Kathryn hadn’t experienced, but she knew it was a process and she knew Claire would get through it eventually. It explained why she looked like she could fall asleep standing up.

  “You know I was only looking out for you on Saturday night, right?” said Kathryn.

  Jess smiled. “I know. And I know what it must have looked like to you, but it was innocent. We both love Claire. Our relationship is healthy, trust me.”

  Jess rarely held a grudge and certainly not one against her sister when she was so clearly happy to have her back in her life.

  Kathryn was relieved to finally understand why Claire had probably slept upstairs. She reminded herself that not everyone was a liar and a cheat.

  Jess greeted everyone with a kiss. Kathryn could feel the warmth in the house, and she envied the life Jess and Alex had created.

  Dinner was delicious, and they all looked on as Claire battled to keep her eyes open. She’d already taken paracetamol, explaining that the caffeine withdrawals were causing an insistent headache, and in the absence of stimulants, her body craved the sleep she had deprived it of for over a month now. Kathryn wanted to tell her it would be okay, but she didn’t think Claire would want to hear it from her.

  *

  Claire put the last of the plates in the dishwasher as Jess came over to fill her glass with water.

  “Hey,” said Claire, annoyed how her voice rose an octave when she felt uncomfortable. She lowered her volume. “I have some homework from the counsellor. I have to ask people I’m comfortable with to tell me one or two things they like about me. Would it be okay if I ask you?”

  “Sure, honey.” Jess squeezed her arm. “Don’t look so worried. I reckon I can come up with more than two.”

  Claire grabbed her notebook, poised to write. “Okay, shoot.”

  Jess took the pen from her. “I’d like to write it down myself. Are you allowed to do that?” Claire shrugged. “Okay, leave it with me.”

  Claire was convinced she couldn’t hold a conversation long enough to complete it, and her entire body felt like a lead weight. She had surrendered the sedatives to Alex, too exhausted and unreliable to administer them herself, so she went to Alex to discuss the issue. “It’s only eight thirty. Perhaps you could put the sleeping pill on the kitchen bench or something. If I wake in the night, I’ll come get it.”

  Alex smiled and gently touched Claire’s cheek. “It is a little early to take it, you’re right, but don’t worry, one or both of us will be in to check on you. We’ll leave it on the bedside table.”

  “Thanks, Alex. And thanks for today.”

  “It’ll be all right, you know.”

  “I know. I’ll just be delighted to make it past eight thirty without falling asleep.”

  *

  Bolt upright, shivering and naked, Claire dripped with sweat and sobbed. Everyone was in her bedroom staring at her and she guessed why.

  “It was a dream, right?” she asked.

  Kathryn, possibly uncomfortable with Claire’s nakedness, disappeared and returned with a towel while Jess and Alex surrounded her, pulling her into protective, warm arms.

  “The pill,” Claire said through sobs and shivers. “I need the sleeping pill.”

  “What was the dream about, honey?” asked Alex.

  “I don’t want to talk about the fucking dream. Please, I just want the sleeping pill.”

  Kathryn handed over the towel before busying herself again by fetching a glass of water.

  “Jean said to talk about it if you woke,” said Jess.

  Claire’s distress intensified. “God, I don’t want to talk about it. I don’t want to watch her die. I just want the pill. I can’t do this.” Her sobbing caused her chest to heave. “I can’t sleep without seeing her. I killed her with my own bare hands. I killed her.”

  Jess seemed to be holding back tears now, too, helplessly watching Claire. “Please, Claire, it’s okay.”

  Claire wasn’t listening. “I loved her and I killed her. That’s what the dream means. That’s what all the dreams mean. I killed her inside. I killed our relationship. How can I ever be with someone else when I don’t know how to fix what I fucked up the last time? What did I do wrong?”

  Kathryn’s calm voice broke through the despair. “What I love about Claire O’Malley, by Jessica Mercer.” Kathryn was reading from the small notebook Jess had placed on the bedside table. “I love how Claire listens to me. I’m a hard person to listen to sometimes, but Claire does so without fail.”

  Kathryn looked up. She continued reading when she realised the sobbing had subsided. “I love how she would never deliberately let me down. I love how she makes me laugh. I love the feeling I get inside when I know we’re going to see each other—the mark of a truly great friend. I love how she loves Alex. I love her ability to be objective. I love her cooking. I love how she always sees the best in me, even when I’m not at my best. Finally, I used to be in love with Claire O’Malley, and now I love her. That should say it all.”

  Alex handed Claire the sleeping pill, kissed her forehead, and left. Kathryn replaced the notebook, gave Claire’s arm a gentle squeeze before leaving also, and Jess leaned in for another big hug. “I love you, Claire O’Malley, sleep well.”

  Claire took the tablet and slept soundly until six the following morning.

  Chapter Seven

  It was difficult for Kathryn to know how much help, if a
ny, Claire would accept from her. In her own way, she’d already gone through what Claire was experiencing, and although she was no expert, she knew the light at the end of the tunnel would eventually grow brighter.

  Claire was fragile, and she saw her former self in everything she did. Claire’s heart may no longer be breaking, but she was a broken woman. Kathryn didn’t understand her need to help, or indeed protect, Claire, but she’d given up fighting her emotions. These days, she let them guide her.

  The subtle approach was probably her best option so she remained close by while Alex and Jess went to work.

  It was eleven thirty in the morning, and enough was enough. “Is this pyjama thing an all day gig, or will you dare shower and wash sometime today?”

  Claire shrugged. “I’m on holidays.”

  “People wash on holidays, you know.”

  “I will. By dinner I’ll be all clean.”

  “Dinner?” Kathryn wasn’t having a bar of it. “Didn’t Jean say you should exercise?”

  Claire sat up warily before smiling. “Did you bug her office?”

  “I’m serious. You can’t just lounge around here all day, dirty.”

  “I’m not dirty.”

  “Well, you’re not exactly clean.”

  “But you agree that I’m not dirty, right?”

  “For God’s sake, Claire.” Kathryn was beginning to understand what it might be like to have a teenager. “I’m going to change into some gym gear and you’re going to take me running. Then, after that, you’ll have a bloody shower because you’ll be dirty. Okay?”