1 Chapter 1: HEART FILLED WITH DREAD: MAGGIE

FREE TO BREATHE

"Are you feeling okay?"

I forced a nod even though I wasn't. The January climate was warm and dry in Sydney, much different to the biting cold weather I had left when I flew out of New York the day before.

"Are you ready? If you'd care to follow me, you can see your sister in a few minutes." I stared blankly but I could see he was moved by my horrible situation.

I'll never be ready for this.

Holding my breath, I fought the sick sense of panic I was barely suppressing. Only someone walking in my shoes would know the debilitating emotions controlling my thoughts in this moment. My aching head began to swim as I rose from my chair and stood to follow him. I lost my balance and landed heavily on the chair again.

"Do you want a glass of water, Margaret?" Jeffery enquired. His concerned gaze registered with me when he saw my difficulty in following his instruction.

"No, thank you. I just need a minute, do you mind?" I asked as I wrung my hands together. It was overwhelming.

"No, of course not. Take your time. I'm right here with you. Just tell me when you want to do this."

Staring up at him, I saw his eyes soften in sympathy because he realized his mistake. No one would ever want to be in this position, to do what I had to do. Strangely, his recognition of that fact calmed me. Then I figured I'd been hard in my initial judgment of him. What had happened wasn't his fault, yet he looked sorry. I felt my throat roll as I swallowed back my tears and drew in a deep breath, right before I heard a voice that I realized afterward was mine.

"Okay, Mr. Barker. Please would you take me to Shona now? I'm ready." My voice carried a level of quiet confidence I didn't feel inside. It sounded brave to my ears.

The heels of my shoes clicked loudly against the polished concrete flooring as we walked in silence along a long corridor. The clinical odor of bleach and disinfectant made my stomach roll. My mind flitted, distracted between long term memories of Shona and the events I had learned about in recent days.

As a young woman I'd already had more than my fair share of distressing events to deal with. I asked myself if the death of my father and mother was preparation for the biggest, saddest challenge of my life? If those tragedies were, they hadn't worked because nothing could have prepared me for this.

The previous forty eight hours were part blurred and part vividly painful. Each thought vying for the most prominent position in my mind. Then again, I was exhausted from all the harrowing information and subsequent legalities I'd had to cope with. By the time I had met Mr. Barker face to face I had become so worn by the burden of my responsibilities I was prepared for anyone else to tell me what to do. By then the only thing I could focus on was seeing my sister.

Recently, I had completed a full day of travel, with changes, and had landed in Sydney International Airport from New York. The flight was long and indirect which had added to my misery. I had felt like I was on a never-ending journey.

The consulate official, Mr Barker, was already waiting to meet me on my arrival and after a polite, somewhat impersonal introduction, I was ushered to a waiting black sedan parked in the drop-off zone.

Once inside the car his manner appeared different. He sounded calm and the way he appeared at ease when he spoke about my sister told me he was probably well versed in receiving people in my situation.

I had barely caught my breath by the time he began reeling off the agenda he'd planned. Like some script he had learned with the optimum amount of sympathy in his tone, said all the words someone in my position needed to hear. His sincerity may have fooled some, but he didn't convince me in the slightest. I knew he was only doing his job.

The journey from the airport didn't take long before we arrived at our destination; Westmead Hospital. A renewed sense of horror washed over me from the moment I saw the name of the place where my sister was being kept.

Silent tears streamed down my face as I stared at the tall building full of rectangular glass windows. I left my tears unchecked and trained my eyes on the entrance doorway thinking there was nothing else to do but cry to relieve some of the sadness in my heart.

Seconds later, Jeffery Barker, the US embassy representative, slid across the seat and exited onto the sidewalk. He waited for me to alight and guided me silently into the building, resting a hand on the small of my back.

It occurred to me how intimate his gesture was for someone so formal, and that I was a stranger to him. When he stopped in front of one of the white, shiny doors, it drew my attention back to the present and I knew part of my journey was almost at an end.

Being led into the quiet, seemingly airless room, my eyes were drawn to the short mustard colored velvet drapes on the opposite wall, as soon as he opened the door. They were the sole focus for my attention. A stab of pain tore at my gut and blood rushed to my ears; swishing rhythmically as my anxiety levels instantly escalated. My heartbeat fluttered irregularly in response to my acknowledgment of the imminent gruesome task ahead of me.

I'd been so distracted that I hadn't noticed when the solemn faced male doctor entered the room because I had been concentrating on not passing out from the trauma of the whole ordeal.

"Hello, Margaret. May I offer my sincerest condolences? My name is Dr. Colin Spence and I'm the lead pathologist here. I'm very sorry to have met you under these circumstances. As you are obviously aware, your sister Shona requires formal identification before we can continue with the next stage of our preparations for her body's repatriation to the USA. We're going to try to make this as easy for you as possible."

His voice was soft, but devoid of emotion and I wondered if it was because of the work he did. Was he desensitized to breaking bad news?

Colin was the second person I'd spoken to since I'd arrived in Sydney, if I didn't count the immigration staff at the airport. Neither man appeared willing to say what I needed to hear, their blunt words obliterating any remote hopes I had of them being mistaken. The sedation medication I had been given had made it easier to bear and at times I felt this was all a bad dream.

Except I knew in my heart none of it was a dream. I was wide awake and at that moment, I knew what I was about to see was heartbreakingly real.

Jeffery reached out and put his hand on my upper arm, squeezing it gently. His touch instantly comforted me. By then any human contact was welcome.

"Would you like me to stay with you, Margaret?"

I dragged my tired eyes away from the drapes, scanned them across his chest and looked up toward his face. Eventually they met his. What a horrible job he has if this is how he earns his living. Do I want him to stay? My numb robotic-type behavior suddenly left me, like a cliff face shearing off into the sea, and I was filled with the impact of the moment. I felt crushed under the weight of the burden I had to find the strength for. No one should do this alone.

"Margaret?"

The young Australian doctor's accent pulled me out of my trance and my frightened eyes darted from Jeffery's eyes to his.

The question in his tone made me think for a second Jeffery had asked me something else, but I looked back at him and then I remembered what he wanted to know.

"Yes." My voice was small and distant. I cleared my throat and said it again. Louder.

"Yes, please stay with me." Fear led me to seek comfort, and I reached out, grabbing his huge warm hand. His fingers instantly clasped around mine and he gave me a gentle 'I-got-you' type squeeze.

For the next few minutes, Dr. Spence explained the process before he opened the door. He informed us he would come back afterwards to explain the next steps. What happens next? What did that even mean? Next for Shona? Next for me and my family?

As he left the room the lights dimmed, and I looked toward the ceiling. The lower lighting was strangely comforting and suddenly the whole scenario seemed weird as I stood in the semi-darkness with Jeffery from the American Consulate holding my hand tightly like we were a couple.

"Are you ready, Margaret?"

No one called me Margaret, everyone that knew me best called me Maggie.

My throat rolled once more as I swallowed hard and then I took the deepest breath I could manage. "Please... no... I... I'll never be ready for this." I stared at the velvet drape again and felt my stinging eyes brimming with tears until they were so full they blurred, and I could hardly see anything.

As if he anticipated my tears Jeffery produced a crisp white cotton handkerchief and instead of handing it to me, he gently held my chin and turned my face toward him. Like one would do with an infant he wiped my tears away. As soon as we made eye contact again he spoke.

"This is a horrible, terrible thing you have to face here, Margaret. No one should ever have to do this, but the longer you prolong it the more distressed you'll become. You know you have to do it, right?"

Reluctantly, I nodded. I felt helpless as I took a deep shuddery breath. Inclining my head toward the small braided cord that dangled down to his right, I heard myself say, "Okay. Do it." My voice sounded flat, emotionless, despite the turmoil I felt inside.