PART ELEVEN

As soon as I said it I wished I hadn’t. "I’m sorry Paul, I mean…"

"It’s okay. I miss you too," he said as he took hold of my hand. "I remember when we first met, then after the siege … we used to be able to talk about anything. Now its almost a struggle to say anything at all." As if to prove this we sat in an awkward silence. Finally I stood up.

"I’d better change," I said, looking down at my pyjamas. Paul said he’d hang around so I headed for a shower.

Twenty minutes later I was sitting on the couch with Paul again, with clean hair for the first time in a couple of weeks. To be honest it made me feel a little better.

"So how are you really?" Paul asked.

"I really don’t know. I thought I was okay, but when I got back here … it all just came back. Scott … everything. I can’t handle feeling this bad." I paused for a bit, then continued. "When I was in hospital, before I woke up, I thought I was dead. I saw my own funeral, my family was there … so were you. It was as if I was floating and looking down on things. Scott was there, I was with him and I was so happy. I want that to be real. It was only a dream, but I want so badly for it to be real. I thought it was getting better, but when I got back here and found things the way they were … the pain all came back." Tears fell down onto my hands. I looked quickly at Paul, only to see that he had tears in his own eyes.

"You still want to die?" he asked in a quiet voice. There was an odd expression in his eyes, through the tears. He looked sad.

"I don’t know … yes. Sometimes."

"But you were getting better … or were you just saying that so that people would leave you alone?"

"No, I really thought I was doing better. The last few days that I was in Sydney, I really was."

"Is that why you came back here? Because you thought you were better?" he asked. I nodded, unable to tell him any other reason. "It’s a shame you had to leave without saying goodbye. My sister was staying with me for a few weeks, she wanted to meet you."

"Your sister?" Relief swept over me.

"Yeah, she was taking a break for a while, and where better to do it than the beach?" he was trying to sound cheerful, but there was pain in his voice. It suddenly became a lot clearer. If I did die, he would be upset. He was hurting just listening to me say I wanted to. But then the old thoughts began to creep back in, he’d get over it. But did I really want to cause him any more pain that I already had?

We just started talking then, about everything. I told him about the baby, that I was scared. I knew that I was old enough to be a mother, by many years. But I felt so young, I really didn’t know if I could handle it. It was almost like it used to be, easy and relaxed. We started talking about the show, and for a while I almost forgot how unhappy I was.

I hadn’t realised how long we’d been talking until I looked at my watch and saw that it was after two o’clock. No wonder I was a little hungry.

"Do you want to go out and grab a late lunch?" I asked.

"Sure, but my treat." Paul said. I started to complain, but he wouldn’t listen. Instead he made some comment about making sure I eat properly.

"Huh?" I asked as I got my keys.

"You look like you haven’t eaten properly in ages. You’ve lost a lot of weight … too much." I just glared at him, slightly annoyed because I knew he was right. I could count the number of things I had eaten in the past two weeks on one hand, with fingers to spare. Paul ignored my glare and opened the door. I locked it behind us as we left.

Paul and I walked towards the block of units laughing. Paul was telling me some of the more stupid things he got up to when he was with the Dougs. I’d never realised that an umbrella could provide so much entertainment. As we got to the driveway I checked the letterbox, pulling out a handful of mail. I looked through it as we went inside, freezing when I saw one of the letters. I felt a cold shiver go right down my back, every muscle in my body tensed up and I started to have trouble breathing.

"Sam, what is it?" Paul put his arm around me as I started to fall. "What’s wrong?"

I held out the letter, the familiar hand writing on the front. Paul took it and looked at it with a blank face. He turned it over and his face began to drain of colour when he saw the return address. All he could do was look at me and swear. "It’s from Steve, isn’t it?" he asked.

I nodded as I took the letter from him and ripped it into little pieces, which I threw in the bin.

Unknowingly I had just made one of the biggest mistakes of my life.

PART TWELVE

The past month had been about the most difficult time of my life. It was a battle everyday not to give in. I was going to a councillor everyday and finally let my friends help me. I stopped shutting people out. Paul had a lot to do with this, he was always willing to talk, listen, anything. I couldn’t say that I was fine, but I was a lot better. I still thought about Scott everyday, I really missed him. It seems like it was only yesterday that we were teasing each other … but he’d been dead for four months now.

I didn’t think about dying as much but sometimes when I’m tired or have had a dream that reminds me of what happened I let it get to me and break down. Kelly helped me get through these times, so did Paul if I called him. There were days when I struggled to get out of bed, when all I wanted to do was go to sleep and never wake up. But days like those were getting rarer.

I hopped off the wall and went inside, putting my mug on the bench on my way into the bathroom. I stood in front of the mirror, studying my reflection. My face wasn’t so pale and the dark circles were all but gone from my eyes. I was beginning to show, my stomach swelling slightly. I wouldn’t be able to hide it for much longer. I’d told Kelly, I had to. She was getting pretty suspicious when I was sick every morning. But she and Paul were the only ones that knew.

I headed into my bedroom and was about to pick up Paul Bear when I heard Kelly come in and call out.

"Sam, I’m back. I found some old garbage in the hall that I thought you might want to see." I looked out to the kitchen, curious, only to see Paul pretending to hit Kel. I laughed and they both turned around.

"Hi," said Paul as he looked at me. Kelly grinned and suddenly discovered that she had something urgent to do somewhere else. She hurried to her room, full of subtlety, and shut the door. Paul came towards me and we hugged.

"Wow," he said when he moved back, "you look great. How are you doing?"

"Pretty good. Things are pretty much back to normal again. How’s the show?"

"Yeah, good. The first episode was pretty awful, I kept expecting someone to yell out in the audience, so was pretty on edge all night. So was Mikey. It was sad too, we made the episode sort of a tribute for the people who died." He paused. He seemed unsure as to whether he should continue or not, but he did. "Especially Margaret Scott. The bastard shot her in the back as she was running away."

"Yeah, I remember. They were let go, but he shot her anyway."

"I’ll tell you what though, the building is so creepy. I can’t wait for the season to be over so we can move to a different studio. They put me in the dressing room that you and I were locked in. It …" Paul’s voice faded away. I remembered the time so clearly. I had been knocked out by Steve and thrown in a dark room with Paul. It was in that room that he showed me just how scared he really was.

"I thought they did change studios." He had told me that in a letter a while ago.

"They were going to, but the bastards decided it would cost too much to move at this stage. The studio was being fixed up anyway, so they didn’t see the point of us moving now."

"What about the feelings of the cast and crew? Surely they had to consider that?"

"I guess not. Money’s the important thing. A lot of the crew quit, they just couldn’t face going back there."

"I don’t blame them."

We kept talking about other things, eager to change the subject. Paul gave me a note from Tim, begging me to come back and look after his kids again.

"I can’t believe he made you baby-sit them!" Paul laughed. "I’ve met them and they are way too much like their dad for my liking."

"They aren’t that bad, a bit of a handful. But so is almost every other kid I’ve ever met." I heard Kelly’s door open and turned around. She was coming out of her room, her face very pale.

"I think you guys should see this." She went and turned the TV on. The news was on and they were showing footage of a burning building. I recognised it immediately, it was the jail where Steve was locked up. I grabbed the remote and turned up the volume.

"At this stage there are no confirmed deaths. The fire is believed to have been stared deliberately by some of the prisoners during a riot in the medium security section. The number of escapees is unknown, a high number of prisoners were seen running towards nearby bush land. As yet none have been recaptured."

The story changed to news about the Olympics and I turned off the TV. The three of us just sat there in silence, shocked by the news. I felt Paul reach for my hand and hold it in his, I knew that he and Kelly were thinking the same thing as me: Please don’t let Steve be one of the one’s who got out.

PART THIRTEEN

I just sat and stared at the blank screen in shock. I couldn’t believe this was happening, things were just starting to look up again. The phone rang, breaking the silence and causing us to jump. Kelly got up to answer it. When I heard her mention my mother’s name I stood up but my legs suddenly turned to jelly and collapsed. Paul caught me, holding me against him so that I didn’t fall over. Then he sat me down, sitting next to me, still holding me.

"Oh God Paul. What am I going to do?" I asked, close to tears.

"Sam, try not to get upset … we don’t know that he was one of the escapees. He could be locked away still." Paul was trying to reassure me, but I could hear a hint of doubt in his own voice.

"He’s right," Kelly said as she came back to the couch. "That was your mum, she saw the news and wanted to let you know."

I nodded, unable to speak for fear of panicking and crying. I wanted to hold myself together, to try and be strong. They were right, there were hundreds of prisoners in that jail. The chance that Steve was one of the handful that escaped was really quite small. But that didn’t stop my hands shaking or my heart racing. Paul could feel this and he held me tight.

"Is there anyway that we can find out?" Kelly asked.

"I don’t know," Paul said. "But I think we’ll all feel a little better once we know."

"Or we could feel a whole lot worse," I said. The thought of Steve being free scared the shit out of me.

"Don’t think like that," Paul said gently. "The names of the guys who escaped will probably be on the news tonight, we’ll find out then."

"Until then try not to worry," Kelly said. The phone rang and she got up to answer it again. "Sam," she called. "It’s your mum again, she wants to speak to you."

I stood up shakily and took the phone off Kelly, trying hard to control my voice and stop it from shaking. I spoke to my mum for around ten minutes, she was really worried. She made a suggestion that I really didn’t know what to do with. I told her that I’d think about it then said goodbye. I went back to the couch and sat next to Paul.

"What did she want?" Kelly asked.

"She said that I should go and stay with her and dad for a while."

Kelly looked at me. "Maybe that’s a good idea."

"Why? Like you said, we don’t know that Steve is out."

"I know, but it might be good for you anyway," she argued.

"Kelly’s right," Paul said. If he is out … which I strongly doubt … you might feel safer there. And if he isn’t then it’ll be like a holiday. You can relax, go to the beach … I know that Mikey and Tim would like to see you again." He put forward some good points, they both did. It was tempting.

"Okay, I’ll go. But only for a little while. It’s not like I’ll miss anything at uni, I already have to repeat all of this year’s units. This bloody degree has already taken 9 years."

"So you’re going?" Kelly asked. I nodded and she grinned, hinting that there was another reason for me wanting to go. I glared at her before Paul could see the grin.

‘Well why don’t you fly back with me tomorrow?" Paul suggested.

"That’s a great idea," Kelly said eagerly, and it was all I could do to restrain myself from hitting her. She was being stupid, I was only going because I wanted to relax for a bit. I called mum back to let her know I was coming. Needless to say she was overjoyed.

As I hung up the phone it rang again.

"Hello?" I said.

"Is this Samantha Brodie?" a voice asked.

"Yes it is. Who’s this?" I asked,

"This is Detective James Hollis. I worked on the case involving yourself and Steven Marsh." I felt my heart miss a couple of beats. "Have you heard the news about the fire at the prison?"

"Yes, I saw it on the news. There was also a breakout wasn’t there?"

"Yes there was. I have some news that I thought concerned you."

"Is it about Steve? Do they know where he is?" I asked. My voice was quivering. Paul came over and put his hands on my shoulders.

"Yes, they do. I thought you should be informed … he’s dead."

PART FOURTEEN

So that was it. It was over. The detective had told me that they had found Steve’s body in his cell, burnt beyond recognition. There was a ring on the remains of one of his fingers that they used to determine who it was, and they were checking with dental records. There really wasn’t any doubt though, they were sure it was Steve.

Kelly Paul and I sat on the couch drinking tea and talking. My hands were still shaking and a few times I nearly spilled my drink.

"Do you really think that caffeine is the best thing for you to be drinking right now?" Paul asked as he watched my mug shake. "You’re already pretty jittery."

"Tea usually helps calm me down," I said while trying to move the mug so that he couldn’t take it off me. He pretended to be determined, but stopped when the hot drink spilled on his hand. Kelly just laughed as Paul swore and wiped his hand on his jeans.

The three of us chatted about how it was now over. I thought that I would be relieved but I was still scared. I didn’t know why. I wish I did. After a while Paul got up and called the airline. He booked me a ticket on his flight the next day.

"There you go, it’s all set. Now you can’t change your mind and back out," he said as he hung up the phone. "All you have to do is relax and have a holiday."

"Well in that case I had better go and pack." I left Kelly and Paul talking and went into my room and began to gather some clothes together. I stopped at my desk and dropped the clothes I was carrying. I picked up my photo of Scott and stared at it, beginning to cry silently. Tears fell and landed on the glass of the frame.

"Scott," I said, "it’s over. Finally. I just wish that you were here with me now. Steve’s gone, he can’t hurt us any more. But it’s too late. I’m so sorry, if I had only listened to you ... you warned me, said he was no good, but I didn’t listen ..." A noise behind me startled me. I put the photo down as Paul came towards me. He wrapped his arms around me and held me as I cried for Scott ... my cousin and friend who should be here but wasn’t

The next morning my alarm went off early, I had to finish packing. I quickly turned it off, not wanting to wake the others up, and quietly packed my clothes and other things I thought I might need. Despite my earlier doubts I really was looking forward to this, it was a chance to just get away and relax.

I went out to the kitchen to get some coffee, trying not to wake Paul who was still asleep on the couch. I put the jug on to boil and turned to get a clean mug from the sink.

"Morning!" Paul’s cheery voice scared me and I dropped the mug back into the sink with a crash. "Sorry," he grinned.

"Yeah, I bet" I said. "Did I wake you up?"

"No, I’ve been awake for a while, just lying here listening to the birds. Why the hell do you put seed on the balcony, they’re so bloody noisy!"

"Just to annoy you when you come here. Coffee?"

I made two cups and took them over to the couch, pushing Paul’s feet off so that I could sit down.

"Thanks for talking me into this, it’ll be good. I need to get away."

"Yes you do," Paul said. "You’ve been under way too much stress lately. You really need to take it easy for a while."

"I guess that’ll be a bit easier now that I don’t have to look over my shoulder all the time. Now all I have to do is figure out how to tell my parents about the baby."

"Are you worried about it?"

"Yeah, I think they’ll be disappointed in me or something."

"Why? You didn’t do anything wrong."

"I know. But this baby ... it’ll be the child of a murderer and rapist. I can’t expect them to be thrilled that this is going to be their first grandchild."

Paul took my hand. "Samantha, this baby will be yours. That alone means that it won’t turn out like Steve, it can’t. If only a tiny bit of you rubs off on this child then it will grow to be a wonderful person. Your parents will know this."

There was nothing I could say in response to this, it was just about the nicest thing that anyone had ever said to me.

Five hours later I was sitting next to Paul on the plane as it headed down the runway. I watched the ground disappear as we took off. For a while we chatted, but I grew tired and started to doze off. I let my head fall on Paul’s shoulder and drifted away, thinking about how I could finally move on and feel safe. There was no way that Steve could hurt me ever again.

PART FIFTEEN

"Hi," he said and gave me a hug. "I was beginning to worry that you weren’t coming."

"By the sounds of that I might wish I hadn’t." Paul just laughed and pulled me inside. Despite all the noise I had heard, there were only two others in the room.

"Samantha!" Tim jumped up and ran across the room. He picked me up and swung me around, I couldn’t help but laugh. "How are you?" he asked once he had put me down.

"Good," I said. "How about you?"

"Great!" he grinned. He was in a really good mood, something which had always made me nervous. I looked past him and said hello to Mikey and sat in an empty chair.

"So Sammy-wammy. What have you been doing with yerself?" Tim asked.

"Sammy-wammy?" Mikey laughed. "You make her sound six years old!"

"It’s a nickname. A sign of affection, hey Sammy-wammy. She’s never complained about it." Tim grinned.

"Only because I’ve never heard you call me that before," I said as I picked up an empty water bottle that was next to my chair. I threw it at Tim and it bounced of his head with a satisfying ‘donk’. Tim pretended to cry while Paul and Mikey laughed at him. After a few minutes things were calm again.

"So Sam, what have you been doing?" Mikey asked.

"Not a lot really. I was trying to catch up on uni work, but I was too far behind so I have to re-do all the units next year."

"Paul said you were pretty sick for a while" Tim said.

"Yeah,. I got to stay in hospital and everything." Inwardly I cringed, thinking about what had really happened. Paul hadn’t told them that I tried to kill myself.

"Wow, must have been pretty nasty" Tim said. "Are you okay now?"

Paul watched me very carefully as I answered. "Umm ... I think so" I said. "I feel alright at the moment, but it comes back sometimes. I don’t think it will ever really go right away." I saw Paul look at the floor, trying to hide the expression of sadness on his face.

"Shit!" Mikey said. "What was it?"

"It was just a severe adverse reaction brought on by stress." Well this was in some way true.

"We’ll just have to make sure you relax then" Tim said, grinning.

Paul looked up. "That’s why she’s here" he said.

"It must be easier now that this guy’s dead" Tim said.

"Yeah, it is I guess. But there’s so much that reminds me of what he did, that’ll never go away."

"Eventually it might" Tim suggested.

"No, it never will. It can’t." I put my hand instinctively on my stomach, feeling the swell of the growing baby. I was wearing a loose shirt so no one would be able to tell.

"It’s all been hard for you hasn’t it?" Mikey asked.

"You have no idea."

On that happy note we changed subjects and Tim went to get a drink. He got himself a beer and brought back one for me.

"No thanks" I said.

"Oh go on." Tim said, trying to shove the bottle into my hand. "What, you don’t like beer? I think Pauly Boy’s got some wine in the fridge. I’ll get you some."

"No Tim, water’s fine, really."

"Na-uh. You need to relax, and this is me helping you to do it!" He got the wine out of the fridge and started looking around for a corkscrew.

"Tim, really. I can’t have any alcohol." Shit, I hadn’t meant it to sound like that.

"Why?" Tim put the wine back in the fridge and came out of the kitchen. "What’s wrong?"

"Nothing" I said as I got up to get myself some water.

"Bullshit. What is it?"

They were all looking at me. I didn’t know whether to tell them the truth or make something up. They’d been through the siege as well, they might understand. I opened my mouth, still unsure of just what I was going to say.

"My doctor said I can’t, it’ll hurt the baby."