The Fall Ch. 08

Lydia pulled up at the front of the O'Sullivan farm the Tuesday after her house purchase settled. She was here to speak to Anna.

They'd originally organised to meet at Toowoomba, but Anna had rung to let her know she'd had a bad morning. She'd wanted to cancel. Lydia, who'd had to hype herself up to drive to Toowoomba and had in fact already left home by the time Anna called, wasn't prepared to put things off for another day. She told Anna she'd come out to the farm.

She'd only ever been here for the Sunday lunches and without the numerous cars and visitors to attract her attention she could see just how vast it was. Beautiful, too. She stared at the big Queenslander as she approached and tried to figure out where Dylan had fallen. There were no signs that anything was amiss. Everything seemed just as it had always been.

'It was around the back,' a voice called from the veranda.

Lydia startled. 'Kyle.'

He walked down to the stairs and headed around the to the rear of the house, gesturing for her to follow. She scurried guiltily behind him.

'There,' he said, pointing to the roof. 'That's where he fell from.'

It wasn't high up, only four or five metres. How had he managed to hurt himself so badly? She tried to imagine Kyle falling and knocking him over. Did they scream? Had Dylan had any warning? He'd never spoken to her about the accident and she hadn't dared ask.

She reached into her purse for her cigarettes. She took one and offered the pack to Kyle. He accepted one with thanks, and she lit both their smokes.

'I should stop bumming cigarettes off you,' he remarked.

'I probably owe you one for the maintenance report you did for the solicitor. Thank-you.'

'You're not the one who's indebted.' He said as turned to her, his dark, almost black, eyes settling on her. 'My mother's asleep, but it's money that she wants to discuss with you. Compensation. She wants to know if Dylan is going to sue.'

'You'd have to ask him.'

He gave a short, sharp nod of understanding. 'I can appreciate that, but she still wants to speak to you. Come inside. I'll wake her up.'

There were stairs at the back of the house and she followed him up. He wore guilt like a noose. She wondered if he'd started drinking again.

He answered the question by asking her if she wanted a gin and tonic. When she shook her head, he gave her an unrequested glass of water and made himself a rum and Coke. He finished it in under a minute and immediately poured himself a second.

'Where's your father?' she asked.

'Hospital. His heart is failing.'

'Oh God, I'm so sorry.'

'Me too,' he agreed.

He drained his drink and returned the rum to the cabinet, and the Coke to the fridge. She remembered saying something to Anna at the wake, about Cora being the Princess bride. It was a cruel thing to say, but looking at Kyle, she understood how unwittingly insightful she'd been. He didn't need a novelty, least of all at this point in his life.

Kyle had gone to see Dylan in hospital a while back, and she'd left the room to give them time to talk. She'd known, deep down, that it wasn't something she needed to be privy to. Kyle had looked no happier when he left than when he arrived. He was a deeply troubled man. Dylan, on the other hand, had seemed relieved.

Both Lydia and Dylan knew the fall was an accident. A vile, horrendous accident, but an accident all the same. Dylan had dealt with it and was ready to move on. He'd spend his time alone in hospital working his way through his grief. With each day he was becoming more positive, and more enthusiastic about life.

'Maybe you shouldn't wake your Mum,' Lydia said suddenly. 'I really can't talk to her about what Dylan's going to do. It's not even appropriate to ask me.'

'She's dying,' Kyle said. 'She's not well enough to travel to Brisbane. Both she and my father are both going to be gone within a year. They want to get the matter sorted out.'

So he knew about his mother's cancer. Anna must have told him. Maybe the effects of her illness had become impossible to hide and she'd had no choice.

'You knew,' Kyle guessed. 'You knew, didn't you? I didn't. I only found out a few weeks ago. I paralysed Dylan, Cora miscarried, and now my parents are dying.'

He went back to the liquor cabinet. Lydia stood in the kitchen, stepping uneasily from one foot to the next. What was she supposed to say?

Kyle poured himself another drink. 'You sure you don't want one?'

She nodded.

'Christ,' he remarked. 'I'm back to being the only soak in the district.' He took a sip and gave her a wry, tired smile. 'I should go and wake my mother.'

'I'm sorry,' she blurted out. 'I'm sorry about your parents. Truly.'

He shrugged. 'I'm sorry about Dylan. What I wouldn't give to fix him. All of the favours he did for people... he'd give the shirt off his back. I took advantage of it. I'm sorry.'

Before she could respond, he went to rouse his mother. She picked up her phone and checked her work emails. There was nothing of note there.

'Lydia,' Anna greeted tiredly.

Lydia looked up. Anna was rail thin, and her skin was dry and grey. Her hair was limp, there were bags under her eyes and she was wearing an old, peach tracksuit. The change was shocking. The decline had been far more rapid than anything Cyril had experienced.

'Hi,' Lydia said meekly.

Kyle led his mother to the couch, and told them he'd make coffee. Lydia stared at mother and son. They were unusually, but not unnaturally, close. There was nothing sinister or awkward about their relationship. She wondered how Kyle would cope when Anna died. Her guess was 'not good'.

She and Anna were given coffee and Kyle made himself his fourth drink of the hour. He caught Lydia staring at him and raised his eyebrows at her. She shrugged. She was actually impressed at the amount of alcohol he could consume and still appear sober.

Anna noted the exchange between the pair, and asked her son how much he'd had to drink.

'This is the second,' he lied.

Anna didn't believe him. She turned to Lydia for answers, but Lydia merely shrugged again. There may have been no honour amongst thieves, but she felt an odd camaraderie with Kyle. She knew how it felt to fuck up. To have done things that would never be forgiven. To wake up every morning and hate yourself for doing the unthinkable.

'How's Dylan?' Anna asked.

'Thin,' Lydia replied with a faint smile. 'It gave me an excuse to go and buy him some clothes. He's better dressed as a paraplegic than he was before.'

Anna said 'I see', sounding more shocked than amused.

Lydia wished she'd stayed home. She still found Dylan cute. She still wanted to kiss him, hug him and have sex with him. It was an attraction that seemed to horrify people.

One of the nurses had caught her lying in bed with him, kissing him. There'd been no nudity, and although she'd been horny as hell, there had been nothing sexual going on, but the nurse had still told them off. They'd been told to be more respectful. Dylan had a room mate. There were people coming and going. Nobody needed to see them having intimate relations.

Lydia had wanted to point out that the curtain had been drawn and they were only kissing, nothing else, but she'd been too humiliated. She was tired of the hospital visits. It felt as if Dylan no longer belonged to her. She could only see him when they told her she could, and even a simple make-out session was off the books.

The worst part about the nurse's reaction was the expression on her face when she'd finished her angry spiel. She was disgusted, not so much at what they were doing, but the fact that Lydia had wanted to do it. The nurse worked with paraplegics, yet seemingly couldn't understand why someone would want to sleep with one.

'I bought a house,' Lydia added. 'He's coming home for a visit on the weekend. His parents are coming down, too.'

'That'll be nice,' Anna remarked.

'I hope so. His parents said they'll bring Ben - his dog - with them. He doesn't know that yet. About Ben, I mean. He knows his parents are staying,' she rattled off nervously. 'Maybe you should come down sometime. There are three bedrooms. You're welcome to stay the night.'

'No, no, we've caused him enough harm,' Anna argued. 'That's why I wanted to see you. I want to know what sort of compensation Dylan's seeking. It's crass to ask, isn't it? But I need to know. I need to get this sorted out now, before Ed and I die.'

'You'd need to ask Dylan.'

'Surely he's said something to you?' Anna asked, her tone pointed.

Lydia didn't immediately pick up on what Anna was actually asking. She was so accustomed to hearing Anna discussed as if she was some sort of modern day Saint that it didn't occur to Lydia that the older woman might be sceptical of her motives in staying with Dylan.

Lydia shook her head. 'No. We talk about his future. We're trying to make sure my house is going to be suitable for him. We're...'

She trailed off as the realisation hit. It was insulting, wasn't it, that Anna thought she was with Dylan in the hopes he'd get a payout? Lydia understood that she'd been invited here because Anna felt she was sufficiently greedy to both know what Dylan was after, and brash enough to ask.

'You think I'm with Dylan because I can see a big payout coming,' Lydia stated.

Anna appraised her carefully, but didn't say a word.

'You do, don't you?' Lydia challenged.

'I don't know,' Anna admitted.

Lydia stared at her in shock. 'Are you off your rocker?'

There was silence.

Anger and frustration and resentment welled inside Lydia. How dare this stupid bitch look her in the eye and insinuate she was only after money, when she'd set up a goddamn gold-digging beautician with her son?

'Well you're wrong. You're all wrong. I loved him before the accident, and I love him now. I'm sorry if that's too hard for you to understand,' she said, quietly vicious, her rage spilling over into her words. 'Although maybe, Anna, following the money is the only thing you truly understand. After all, both you and Cora moved out here for a reason, didn't you? And I doubt it was love.'

She grabbed her bag and stood up. She'd left the house and was halfway to her car when Kyle grabbed her arm. She spun around, wanting to be angry with him, but finding herself utterly incapable of rage.

'Please,' he said softly. 'Don't go. Not yet.'

She threw her arms up in the air. 'She's ridiculous. She hates me. She needs to speak to Dylan, not me. This is his business.'

'I know. I tried to tell her that.'

Lydia knew she couldn't leave. Not yet. She reached for her cigarettes and offered the pack to Kyle. He took one, and she lit it for him.

'It's me she's angry at,' he said, exhaling a thick stream of smoke. 'She can't bring herself to say it, or admit it, but it's me, not you. You're just the target.'

'Great.'

He laughed hollowly. 'I should tell her that Cora and I have decided to split. That'll put me back in the bad books.'

'I didn't realise that. I'm sorry.' She bit her lip. 'I'm sorry for insinuating she only married you because of the farm.'

'Don't be. It's the truth.' He took another draw. 'I should never have married her. There's no love. Someone saw me follow you out to Cyril's house that afternoon you came back to do the maintenance report, and a rumour spread that you and I were having an affair. Cora asked me if I'd slept with you. I told her there was utterly no way I'd ever cheat, and she just said 'well if you do, be more discreet'.'

'That's depressing,' Lydia agreed.

'It is,' he agreed. 'And for the record, I wasn't hitting on you that day.'

'I know.'

'It's still embarrassing,' he laughed awkwardly. 'Sorry.'

'It's okay. At least you told me what happened. Nobody else did.'

'Maybe Dylan would have got in contact with you.'

'I doubt it,' she replied. She sighed heavily and reached into her bag. 'I should text him. Let him know that your Mum wants to know how much money he wants. I know he's seen a lawyer, but I haven't asked him the details. It's not really my business.'

Kyle nodded. 'I expected he would. He's going to need to sue. He can hardly go back to being a mechanic.'

'I'm sorry.'

Kyle laughed hollowly. 'No, I'm the one who's sorry.'

They finished their cigarettes in silence.

'I should be off,' Lydia said.

'Thanks. Tell Dylan I said 'hello'.'

'I will.'

She drove back home, to her new house. She parked her car in the massive three bay shed, leant her head on the steering wheel and wept.

Nobody ever asked her how she felt. Nobody ever said 'hey, how are you coping with having your own dreams dashed?' It was as if her love for him was unworthy of consideration, and her own hopes for the future had been irrelevant.

She felt very alone. Tired, alone, and scared of how Dylan would cope living in Brisbane.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lydia's house was not at all what Dylan had expected. She'd described it as a monstrosity, but it looked alright to him.

'Your Mum cleaned it from top to bottom,' Lydia whispered conspiratorially. 'Your father mowed, whipper-snippered and sprayed the weeds.'

'They had seven kids and ran a farm,' he reminded her. 'They're not very good at sitting down. They need to be doing something all the time.'

'They're obviously not very good at lying down without doing something, either, seeing as they had seven kids,' she giggled.

He glared at her. 'Lydia.'

'What?'

He rolled his eyes. 'They're. My. Parents,' he spelt out.

She laughed harder. His father asked if there was a problem and Lydia retold the conversation they'd just had. His father laughed. Of course he did. He liked Lydia.

'After Dylan - he was the fourth - Elise's parents bought us a television for our bedroom,' his father told her. 'They thought it worked, because the next one didn't come along for another four years, but I never had the heart to tell them the gap was only because Dylan refused to wean. We had to tell him he that he wouldn't turn three until he gave up the titty. He ended up celebrating his third birthday three weeks after the actual date.'

Lydia convulsed with laughter. 'Dylan, you never told me that.'

He couldn't imagine why not.

All the same, it was wonderful to be out of hospital. He'd been worried about how he would cope living in a normal house, but Lydia's place was wheelchair friendly. There were steps that led to the front door, but a ramp that led into the laundry, and ergo, the house, and it had proven to be easy to negotiate. The kitchen was an open 'U' shape, someone had installed a bar next to the toilet, and while the bathroom wasn't crash hot, he knew he could make it work.

Ben followed him around as he inspected their new home. He hadn't expected to see his dog, but he was pleased he was here. Lydia told him there was a dog park nearby.

'A what?' he asked.

'A dog park. You know, those places where you can put your dog in a yard with other dogs and let it run around off leash so it can burn off some energy.' She stared at him incredulously. 'How do you not know what a dog park is? Ben knew what to do. I took him down at lunchtime and he had a play with a Great Dane.'

Dylan couldn't contain his laughter. Lydia realised he'd been messing with her, and whacked him on the arm. That made him relax. He'd needed to know that despite being in a wheelchair, she didn't pity him. Sometimes it was hard to tell what was going through her mind.

'Come here,' he said, pulling on her arm. 'Kiss me.'

She leant down and kissed him. 'I love you.'

'And I, you.'

'Are you horrified by my shitty house?'

'It's not shitty. The shed is great. Stop being paranoid, Lyddy. I'm really looking forward to living with you.'

He was also looking forward to trying to have sex with her, but he figured it would be crass to point that out. He was prepared for the worst, but hoping for the best. He consoled himself with the fact that even when he was fully functioning, he'd struggled to bring her to climax through sex alone. He'd usually had to finger her, or go down on her, or pull out her vibrator, all of which he was still capable of doing.

It was good to be out of hospital. Good to eat a home cooked meal, and to breathe fresh air, and to test out how much he was capable of.

They went and saw the cars at Elizabeth Street after dinner. He saw people he knew, and met people he'd only ever known as internet forum members, and he began to think about finishing off the Charger. It was in the shed at Lydia's house, awaiting his attention.

There was a lot of background noise, with planes leaving from the nearby light aircraft airport, the goods train rumbling by, and proximity of their neighbours. When he sat on the porch with her that night as she smoked a cigarette he realised he could hear someone's television, and hear another neighbour's baby crying.

'What are you thinking?' she asked him.

'How happy I am,' he said.

She leant over and ruffled his hair. 'Liar. Is it driving you nuts? Are you regretting agreeing to live here?'

'Why are you so worried I don't like it?'

Lydia shrugged defensively. 'It's not what I had in mind when I thought about buying a place.'

'I'm really glad you didn't buy a flat,' he confessed. 'That would have been hard to adjust to, but the house is good. The shed is great.'

'Are you planning on filling it with car parts?'

'If you don't mind,' he admitted.

'I don't mind.'

'Lydia.'

She turned to him. 'What?'

He tried to find the words, but his brain failed him. Inside, his parents were sleeping. Outside, under a sky where light pollution cloaked the majority of the stars, a Cessna flew in to land. He reached over and touched her brilliant red hair.

'I love you,' he muttered. 'I'm so sorry. Do you understand? I'm so, so sorry. It was so stupid. I didn't mean to do this to you.'

Lydia finished her cigarette and stubbed it out in her ashtray. 'We all do stupid shit. We'll get through it.'

'Why do you love me?'

'Why? I don't know. You're my fat country hick. Or, rather, you were a fat hick, now you're just a hick.' She gave him a lopsided grin. 'I like being around you. We like to do the same things - except for the cars, I'm not going to the speedway with you, so don't ask again - and I like kissing you. Why do you love me?'

'All of the above,' he replied. 'Plus you have great tits.'

She giggled. 'Was it hard waiting out the period in between when you were weaned, and when women would let you suck on their boobs?'

'Can we just pretend you didn't ever hear about that?' he muttered, disgusted.

She tried not to laugh and failed miserably. He glared at her, but that only seemed to make her laugh harder.

'Sorry,' she apologised. 'We should go to bed.'

'Are you going to get naked?'

'Of course.'

He thought back to the afternoon he'd first taken Lydia to the shed. They'd sat on the couch together, him with a beer and her with a glass of water, and he'd barely been able to meet her eye he was that nervous about what she might want to do with him. Tonight was much the same, however mixed in with the anxiety was hope and lust and love.

They went to bed and lay down alongside each other. The winter air was cold and they snuggled into each other. She wrapped her legs around him, pulling him closer and closer. He reached down to stroke her furry little pussy. It felt just as good as he remembered, and he slipped a few fingers in amongst the folds of skin. She was soaking wet, and she straightaway started to grind against his hand.

'Do you want oral?' he whispered.

'Are you kidding?' she asked. 'I'd love it.'

They wriggled around so that she was lying on her back and he was lying on his stomach, wedged between her legs. He parted her labia and gently nibbled at her sex. It was obviously not to her liking, because she pushed his head harder against her.