Chapter One

Thirty months on …

"Get the marg from the fridge would you?"

"Sure," Jack called and plunked it down in front of Sam who started buttering toast for everyone.

"What's that?" he asked of the papers in front of her.

"I'm filing for divorce."

"Sam, we're not even married yet."

She smiled. "No, it's from Shane."

"You're not divorced?" Jack felt slightly foolish asking that question. After over two years in a relationship he should probably have known. He'd just assumed.

"Never really had the opportunity. It was all so rushed – when I had to run."

"Of course," Jack replied sympathetically and rubbed the small of her back while peering over her shoulder at the papers.

"So now he and his henchmen are in jail, think there's any chance you'll revert back to Kylie?"

"No way. Kylie Deeks? It's awful. You don't think being on the run was the only reason for changing my name do you?"

Jack laughed. "It is a bit Kath and Kimish. Besides, I'm used to Sam," and he bent down to kiss her.

"What about you?"

"What about me?" mumbled Jack through a mouthful of toast as he flicked through the morning paper.

"You're still married."

Jack swallowed the toast, feeling the cold, sodden lump slide uncomfortably down the back of his throat. "Yeah, I guess I am."

"Maybe it's time you started thinking about a divorce too. I mean it's practical that's all. It's not like I'm hinting at us getting married or anything."

"Hey, you don't want to marry me?" Jack laughed, sounding mock offended. "You're right though. I'll look into it this weekend." With that the two of them resumed their breakfast routines. "What are your grounds?" Jack said suddenly, looking up. "Attempted murder, drug dealing?" He laughed. Sam didn't. She didn't find it funny.

888

My problems are my problems, not yours. You've got your life. Go live it. And I'll live mine.

So he did. He worked, and played and worked some more. It was a pretty good life on the whole. It contained promotions, pay rises, responsibilities, weekend brunches at cafes reading the papers while waiting to pick Rory up from football. It contained Sam. And sex with Sam. Nice sex, regular sex. It contained a house and a mortgage, with the beach only a five minute ride away. It contained surfing and surfing lessons for Rory. It contained a trip to Europe to see the Coliseum and the Sistine Chapel and Euro Disney. All that in two years. Not bad he thought. He wondered what her life contained. A house, a mortgage, a job, a man? When she left she had none of those things. But you never knew with her. She was capable of having it all if she wanted, but that was the trouble. She never knew what she wanted, or she changed her mind, or she wanted the wrong things. If she had wanted them at all. He doubted she'd want any of the things he had. That wasn't her style. When it looked like she could have had them she gave them up. Saying it was his fault, but she was the one who walked out, on a marriage she wasn't prepared to fight for. She discarded it upon a whim, as was her way.

I can't believe you'd actually jump off a cliff to get back in my good books.

He smiled at the memory. So typical of her, didn't think about the consequences. Just went for it. So different to him. He was steady and grounded and sensible. He didn't shout, he didn't make rash decisions; he was reliable and responsible. Exactly what Sam needed. They were well suited. He was comfortable in his life. He didn't want to go back and dredge up the past. It should stay there, as a distant memory, which he could occasionally remember fondly but on the whole put behind him as one rare, rash mistake. But it couldn't truthfully be in the past until the divorce came through. And to get the divorce he had to find her. One quick meeting was all it would take. And perhaps that wouldn't even be necessary.

888

He picked up the phone and stared at the receiver. He was nervous. He felt like he was back in high school waiting to ring the number of Andrea Jones – the first girl he'd ever asked out. The first girl he'd ever phoned. Forcing himself into action, he punched in the numbers and waited for the connection. When he heard the ringing start he was tempted to hang up. But as he deliberated with his weaker alter ego he heard a familiar voice on the other end.

"Hello?"

"Sal. Hi. It's Jack. Jack Holden."

"Jack?" There was a pause as she registered this surprise. "Wow, it's been a while."

"Two Years. How've you been?"

"Good."

"And the others?"

"Um, good. Cassie's off at uni in the city, Ric's finished his apprenticeship. Brad and me are still here of course."

"You and Brad still going strong then?"

"Yes." Were they married? He didn't feel comfortable asking.

"Listen Sal," Jack said, cutting in before she could continue. "Is Alf around?"

"No sorry, he's in the city."

Well Sal would have to do. He couldn't pretend he'd called for a friendly chat. "Oh, ok, well maybe you'll know. I need to get in contact with Martha. About our divorce. It's been nearly three years and it's time we sorted it out. Do you have her number?" There was only silence in response.

"Sal? You there?"

"Yeah, sorry Jack." Another silence. "Martha's in a coma."

Jack felt his insides slow down and his face flush hot.

"She has been for six months now," Sally continued. "Roo's out from New York and the Mackenzies are down from the country." There was an intake of breath then a quiet sigh. "I go down there every second week and Alf's down there constantly."

"Down where?"

"The city."

"She's been living in Sydney since she left the bay then?"

"Yes. She only just recently started work as a paramedic, after all the training. Did you ever speak to her?"

"No, not since the bay. How did it happen?"

"During one of her shifts there was a front on collision with another car. A drunk driver. She was in the back with a patient. Her partner was driving and he died instantly. So did the patient. It was awful. We tried to contact you but no one had your details and we only had an old number for Tony which was disconnected. I'm sorry."

It wasn't her fault. He had made no effort to stay in contact with anyone in the bay. It had been two years with no contact and that was his choice.

"I know this must be a shock Jack." It was Jack's turn to not reply.

"If you want to visit her, she's at St Vincent's in Sydney. You'd be welcome. Where are you these days anyway?"

" Perth."

"Oh. Maybe it's too far then. But if you want to."

"Yeah, thanks." Jack was struggling to stay with this conversation.

"Before you go, give me your number. I'll call you with any news."

Jack gave it and he had to ask. "Do you mean there's no hope for her? Do you mean the machines are keeping her alive?"

"No, it's not like that. There is a chance she could wake up. But," and Sally paused. "The longer it goes on obviously," and her sentence drifted off incomplete.

Two hours later Jack sat alone in the kitchen of his house and tried to process the news and what he should feel. He hadn't seen Martha in two and a half years, he was calling to get a divorce and he didn't plan on keeping in contact. Was he allowed to feel emotion? Was he meant to? Viewing it rationally, she was nothing in his life and vice versa. The official title of husband and wife signified nothing in this case. Perhaps he should conclude it was none of his business. Yet he could not move past the shock. Not only at the news but at his distance from it. Perhaps it's too far Sally had said, even though they were dealing in the stakes of life and death. Once, he would have been the person always at her side; and now, he had a choice whether to even pay her a visit.