A loud noise scared me and I sat up. I looked around, trying to figure out what it was. My eyes fell on the clock ... 7:15. It was my alarm buzzing loudly that had woken me up. I reached over and turned it off then dragged myself painfully out of bed. I grabbed my crutches from against the wall and headed out to the kitchen, pausing to look in the mirror.

I found it hard to believe that the person looking back out of the mirror was me. I had dark circles under my eyes, my face was thin, there was a bandage covering the stiches on the left side of my head and a large bruise on the left side of my face and forehead, which was finally beginning to fade. My eyes were red. I turned away from the mirror and went out to the kitchen.

"Hi. Do you want some coffee?" Kelly asked. I nodded so she poured me a mug from the pot.

"Thanks" I said.

"How are you feeling?" she asked.

"Not bad. My head feels a little better, but my knee is killing."

"Are you okay about today?"

"No" I answered truthfully, "but I don’t have a choice. I can’t not go."

"Well if you need anything, I’ll be there." Kelly said.

"I know that. Thank you so much for coming up here. There was no point in me going home, I have to keep dealing with the police and hospital and stuff." Kelly had come to Sydney a few days ago. I really did need her support right now.

The last five days had been torture. I had spent most of it in hospital, being released yesterday. During that time the cut on my head had been fully cleaned and they had operated on my knee, which had been a lot worse that I had thought. Then I came back here, to Scott’s place. It felt wrong being here without him, almost like I didn’t belong here. Kelly was staying here with me, basically helping to keep me sane.

Tim had been in and out, coming by to see how I was going. He was spending most of his time with his family. I remember him saying at one point that he was scared he’d never see his kids again. Mikey had been in the same hospital as me. He had undergone emergency surgery as soon as he arrived at the hospital, and was in the process of making a full recovery. I saw him a few times. We chatted for a bit, both avoiding the topic of the siege.

Then there was Paul. He had come to see me every day. I don’t know why, but for some reason I could talk to him about what we’d been through. Of course I never mentioned what had happened with Steve, it made me sick just thinking about it. It was also Paul that I could talk to about Scott. Paul was the one I leaned on, the person I cried to.

I stood there, tears in my eyes, listening but not hearing anything that was said. At some stage Paul had reached for my hand and was still holding it. Kelly was on my other side holding my arm. I watched as the coffin was slowly lowered into the grave and his parents threw some flowers on top of it. The people turned and started to walk away.

When most people had gone I went and stood next to the headstone, laying a single white rose at its base. Kelly and Paul stayed back, knowing that I needed privacy.

"Scott," I said, "I miss you. I’m so sorry ... this is my fault. You’re gone and its because of me. It should have been me not you." Tears were streaming down my face. "You were one of the kindest people I knew, you didn’t deserve this. Why did you have to die ... why? It should have been me ..."

"Hang on, I’ll read it in a minute." I was watching the news. The story was about Steve. Today he had been sentenced to life in jail for murder plus various other charges. Kelly came and joined me on the couch, handing me two letters. One was from Paul. I read this one first, a small smile on my face.

"What’s making you smile?" Kelly asked.

"It’s from Paul. He’s talking about Good News Week, they’re going to start filming again in a few months in a new studio." I put the letter down and looked at the other one. There was no return address. I opened it, curious as to who it was from.

"Hi Samantha" it read. "You don’t know me, but a friend of mine asked me to pass this on to you." It was signed ‘Andrew Smith’. I looked at the enclosed letter and my heart froze as soon as I saw the familiar hand writing. It was from Steve.

"Sam? What is it?" I gave Kel the letter.

"Oh my God" she said. "Are you going to read it?"

"Can you?" I asked. "I don’t think I can do it." Kelly nodded and opened the letter.

"This guy is nuts" she said. "He just goes on and on about how much he loves you and how he had to prove it. What does that mean?" Kelly looked at me questioningly.

"I don’t know, like you said, he’s crazy." I took the letter off her and threw it out.

"Oh, can you get that?" Kelly asked as there was a knock on the door.

I opened the door to see Paul standing there.

"Hi" he said as he came in and gave me a hug.

"Hi, what are you doing here?"

"I wanted to come and see how you were doing. Hey, no crutches!" He said, looking at my leg.

"Yeah, I’m back to your old friend" I said holding up the walking stick. "Come and sit down."

The three of us talked for a while about Paul’s letter and the show before Kelly stood up. "Well I have to get going, I’m already late for work. I’ll see you later, okay?" She waved and left the flat.

Paul turned to me. "So," he said "how have you really been?"

"Not too good. I really miss Scott. Plus ... I got a letter today ... from Steve."

"What?! Please tell me you threw it out!"

"Yeah, I did. I don’t want to hear anything that he has to say."

"Good. That guy is out of your life, for good."

"I know, I just wish that he’d never come into it in the first place." This was true. If I had never met Steve then none of this would have happened. Scott would still be alive.

"... do you?" Paul had asked me something but I have no idea what.

"Sorry, what?" I asked.

"I asked if you still feel responsible for what happened."

I looked at the floor. "Sort of, I mean he kept saying that I was the reason he was there, that he was doing it all to get my attention. What am I meant to think?" I could feel myself starting to cry.

"Oh, Sam." Paul put his arm around my shoulders. "Please don’t think that. I know it’s difficult, but try. No one blames you."

He was wrong. Someone blamed me ... I did. I know that everything that happened ... all the deaths and the pain ... it was all my fault. I kept this feeling hidden, going about my life as normally as was possible. But it was always there, eating away at me from the inside, gradually overpowering me.

We had spent the morning wandering around various shops. Paul had said he had something to do and asked me to meet him at the cafe on the corner. As I limped in he saw me and waved. I made my way to the table he was at and sat down. Paul looked very pleased with himself.

"What have you done?" I asked, suspicious of his grin.

"What do you mean?" he responded, putting on an innocent act.

"Why are you grinning?"

He didn’t answer, just handed me a large gift bag.

"What’s this?" I asked, surprised.

"Just a little something I thought you’d like. This way you’ll still have a friend once I’m back in Sydney."

"Are you implying that I have no friends?" I laughed as I opened the bag. Inside it was a large stuffed bear.

"Oh, he’s gorgeous. But you didn’t have to do this."

I know, I wanted to. So you like him?"

"Of course" I hugged the bear. "What should I call him?"

"Paul of course!" Paul laughed.

"Okay," I said "Paul it is then!"

We chatted over a cup of coffee. I noticed that Paul was looking at me very closely. Finally it got to me.

"What?" I asked.

"Huh?"

"Why are you staring at me like that?"

"I’ve noticed that you’ve been kind of distracted all day. Are you okay?" Paul asked.

"Yeah, I’m just feeling a little under the weather" I said. This was true, but I knew more that I was letting on.

"Are you sick?" he asked.

"Sort of. I’m going to see my doctor in about half an hour." I already knew what was wrong, it was one of the basics they taught us at uni. But I wanted to be one hundred percent certain.

"It’s nothing bad is it?" Paul looked worried.

"No" I lied. "Just a bug or something."

I was sitting in the doctors office, nervously fiddling with the strap on my bag. I looked around as the doctor came back in and sat down at her desk.

"Well, you were right" she said.

"How long?" I asked, though I was also pretty sure about that.

"Around seven weeks. Have you thought about your options?"

"Umm ... no. I mean I know what they are, but I haven’t thought about what I’m going to do yet."

"Well, make sure you think carefully about what you want to do. I know that you are aware of the various options and consequences, I’m sure they covered it thoroughly in your course. You know what a big decision this is, so if you ever want someone to talk to, here’s the name of a good counsellor." She handed me a card, which I put into my purse. I thanked her and left the office.

Half an hour later I walked through the door to my home feeling sick to my stomach. I knew what I had to do, I just had to figure out how I would do it. Paul came out of the bathroom. He was carrying his razor, which he threw into his open bag.

"Hey, good timing. My taxi will be here soon, I was scared that I’d miss you." He zipped up his bag. "How are you?"

"Oh, fine. It was just like I thought" I said. There was a beep from downstairs.

"That’s the taxi" Paul said.

"Already?" I asked. I didn’t want him to leave yet.

"Yeah, I better get going." He gave me a hug. "Bye Sam. I’ll call you, okay?"

"U-huh." I hugged him back. "Paul?"

"Yeah?" he looked at me questioningly.

I leaned in and kissed him on the lips. At first he was surprised but then he kissed me back, wrapping his arms around me and pulling me close. It was the most passionate kiss I had ever experienced and I wished that it could last forever. But I knew it couldn’t. I pulled away as the taxi beeped again.

"Goodbye Paul" I said. He touched my face tenderly then turned and left. I shut the door and went into my bedroom. I grabbed my Paul bear and threw myself on to my bed and burst into tears.

I never saw Paul McDermott again.

I went back to my desk and continued writing the letter I was in the middle of. It was much easier than I had expected, everything just spilled out on to the page. I had Paul Bear on my knee, hugging him as I wrote. I looked at a picture I had in a frame on my desk. It was of me, Paul, Scott and Tim, taken the first night I had met Paul. The picture was taken just as Tim told a really dumb joke, and we were all laughing. I was so happy then, we all were.

I finished the letter, put it in an envelope and addressed it. Then I grabbed my jacket and went for a walk to post it. The fresh air was cold, but nice. I walked slowly, taking in every detail of the day. The birds singing, the sound of the cars and the feel of the sun on my skin. I took one last look at the letter then dropped it in the mail box. Then I turned and slowly headed home.

When I got home I went into the bathroom and opened the medicine cabinet. All those years of uni were about to pay off, I knew exactly what I needed and how much. I took the tops off various small bottles, samples taken from the lecturers office, and took out a number of different pills. Then I put the bottles back and went into my room. I put the pills next to the glass of wine on my bedside table. I picked up the photo from my desk and carried it over to my bed.

I sat down and picked up the glass of wine. I took a sip then picked up the pills, rolling them around in my hand. I looked at the photo in my lap.

"Scott," I whispered, "I miss you. I’m sorry this ever happened. Paul ... I ... please forgive me." I swallowed the pills with a mouthful of wine. I drank the rest of the glass and put it carefully back on the bedside table. Then I lay down and wrapped my arms around Paul Bear and the photo.

I lay there thinking about Steve’s baby growing inside me, and the event that caused me to fall pregnant. I thought about Scott, how he had died in my arms that night. I thought about his funeral and my part in his death. And I thought about Paul. The way he touched my cheek, the way he looked at me when we said goodbye and the way we kissed. I loved him.

I heard the phone ring.

I just lay there and closed my eyes as the ringing gradually faded away.

 PART THIRTY

**********************

"Thanks".

Paul shut the door and looked at the letter in his hand. He turned it over and smiled when he saw the return address. It was from Sam. He had only just got back to Sydney after stopping off in Canberra on his way home from visiting her in Adelaide. Paul closed his eyes, remembering the way they had said goodbye, that kiss. It had surprised him a little, but in a good way. He was anxious to talk to Sam again, to see her again. He wanted to tell her how he really felt about her.

He opened the letter and started to read it, the smile slowly vanishing from his face. By the time he was half way through he had tears in his eyes. When he reached the end of the letter he was slumped on the floor, hands shaking. He dropped the letter, put his head in his hands and cried.

This is what he had read.

To my dear friend Paul,

I won’t begin this letter with the usual sort of chit chat as this isn’t a usual letter. I feel that I owe you so much. I know I will never be able to repay you for the kindness and comfort you gave me, though I wish with all my heart I could. I don’t know quite what I am going to write yet so please, bear with me.

Firstly I owe you many apologies, for I have lied to you so often ... too many times. I wanted to be honest with you, to tell you that no, I wasn’t fine. But it was so much easier to tell you that I was okay so that you wouldn’t worry about me. You did that too much as it was. At the very least I owe you these explanations about my behaviour, especially the last time we saw each other.

I’m sorry about kissing you like that yesterday. It just seemed to be a fitting way to say goodbye. You see it was a goodbye kiss, I knew that when it happened. The past couple of months have been absolute hell for me, though I tried my best not to show it. While we were being held by Steve I felt responsible for things, you knew that. But that feeling never went away, if anything it got stronger. My cousin was one of my best friends and now he’s dead, because of me. Everyday I have struggled with the fact that Scott would still be alive if it weren’t for me. No matter what other people tell me, I know in my heart that its true. This is knowledge that I simply can’t bear to live with any more. Please don’t think I’m a coward for doing this, for taking the easy way out instead of fighting. I just can’t stand knowing that I’m responsible for what happened. That’s the main reason for kissing you goodbye.

But not the only one.

If this were all then maybe I could have got through it with help from friends like you. But it’s not.

This is something I never told anyone. When I was with Steve during the siege, the second time he knocked me out, he raped me. I was unconscious at the time, but no less sure of what he did. You saw the state I was in when I was thrown back in with you and the others, my ripped shirt, I’m sure you had some idea of what had happened. Now there’s a baby. I found out for sure yesterday when I went to the doctor. I just can’t do this, I can’t go on. After all the pain I’ve caused.

It’s not fair that I’m here and Scott isn’t.

This is another reason for kissing you goodbye. Because I know now, as I knew when I kissed you, that I’ll never see you again.

I hope that you don’t think I’m selfish for doing this. I don’t want to hurt anyone else, it’s the last thing I would ever want. Just try and understand why I have to do this, why I feel that I can no longer go on.

Please, try not to feel bad or sad about this. Don’t try and think that there was something that you could have done to stop it, there’s not. Just believe me when I say that I’ll be happier. I’ll be with Scott again.

The final reason that I kissed you goodbye was also the one that made it the most difficult thing I’ve ever done.

I also did it because I love you.

Please forgive me,

All my love Sam xxx

**********************

This was a strange sensation, sort of like floating but with no real feeling. There was nothing around me, it was like I was suspended in mid air. I looked down at the scene below me and slowly drifted down towards it.

My parents and other relatives were there, many were crying. Kelly was with my mother, holding on to her arm. Friends from uni were there, looking more shocked than anything. Tim, Mikey and Paul were standing together, Paul’s eyes were red and he was holding a single red rose. Everyone was watching the hole in the ground and the coffin that was slowly lowered into it. The priest closed his bible and people began to leave.

I watched Paul as he walked over and knelt next to the headstone.

"Samantha" I heard him say, "I hope that you are happy ... wherever you are."

"I am" I tried to tell him. But all that came out was a breeze that ruffled his hair. Paul looked quickly around then turned back to the grave. He laid the rose at the base of the stone.

"I love you too" he said as his eyes filled with tears. Then he stood and walked away.

I took one last look at the headstone bearing my own name and then reached out my hand. I felt something take hold of it and looked up to see Scott smiling at me. Hand in hand, we floated up to eternity.