Page 21 of Return to the Waratah Inn

“Heidi?” Mima asked as she moved closer to kneel by the bedside. “Are you okay?”

The woman nodded. “I’m tired. Hey, I didn’t know you were coming today. I’d have cleaned up. Sorry about the mess.” Heidi’s brown eyes had dark smudges beneath them. She was dressed in a nightgown and had a sheet pulled up beneath the baby. The child was quiet now, rosebud lips puckered, her black hair curled into wisps on top of her head.

Mima offered a warm smile. “Never mind all of that. How are you feeling?”

The rest of the visit proceeded without mishap. Henry Bolton stepped out of the room, and the scent of cigarette smoke drifted through the doorway. Mima focused on Heidi, checked her vitals and looked over the baby, asking questions all the time. They were both healthy, although Mima worried about the environment they were in and the man who hovered by the doorway with a menacing look on his face.

“Do you need anything?” Mima asked. Would Heidi speak up? Would she ask for help?

The woman shook her head. “We’re fine. Thanks. Will I see you again?”

“No, I’m usually assigned to the hospital. You can visit the Health Centre, though. The nurses there will help you if you’re concerned about anything.”

“Thanks,” she replied. “I think I’m going to take a nap while she’s sleeping. She hasn’t been very tired at night.”

Mima stood to go and packed up her things. “You’re both healthy, and you’re doing a great job with her.”

Heidi beamed. Mima told her goodbye and headed for the door. As she walked down the hallway, she sensed, rather than saw, Henry fall into step behind her. Her pulse quickened, and she picked up her pace. Before she could open the front door, Henry grabbed her by the arm, his fingers digging into her flesh so that she gasped.

He pulled her about so that she stood face to face with him, but he didn’t let go.

“Ouch! What are you doing?” Mima asked, stumbling backwards.

He stood over her, his face thunderous. “What did you say to her? Did you tell her to leave me? I know you did. You all say the same thing.”

“No, I didn’t. Let go of me!” Mima tried to pull herself free of his grasp, but he held on tight.

He stepped closer. His breath stank of tobacco and cheap whiskey. “You should stay. I’ll get you a drink.” His lips pulled into a smirk, and his bloodshot eyes glinted.

“Help!” Mima shouted. She reached for the front door and desperately pulled it open, but she couldn’t get away from him. “Help!” She screamed it louder, yanking against his grip and kicking out towards him as hard as she could.

Her foot connected with his shin and he yelped, then released his hold on her to slap her face. The pain of it was like a burning white heat across her cheek. When she recovered her balance, she moved her jaw, and it felt loose. There were stars dancing before her eyes. She cowered before him, waiting for the next blow. But someone rushed through the door and into the unit, launching at Henry. She blinked in the light from the doorway, saw her opportunity, and stumbled into the open corridor.

There was a scuffle inside the flat, a few shouts, and then the door slammed shut and a man stood before her, puffing. It was the same man who’d driven Heidi to the hospital. Mima couldn’t recall his name. Her head felt light, as though it might drift into the sky on a string like a balloon at any moment.

She leaned against the railing and dropped her bag on the concrete floor. “Thanks.” It was all she could manage to say. For some reason, she was gasping great gulps of air, causing the world to spin.

Luca. That was his name. She remembered it now. He was so handsome with his dark hair all askew from the fight.

“Are you all right?” he asked, concern on his face as he rushed to hold her steady.

“I don’t know,” she said, and then everything faded to black as she crumpled to the ground.

When she woke, she was on some kind of couch. It was old-fashioned, but soft and comfortable, and there was a light blanket pulled up over her legs. She lay on her side and noticed a record player against the wall, along with a stack of records in their cardboard covers beside it.

She sat up and felt an immediate surge of pain in her skull. With both hands on her head, she groaned. Luca came into the room carrying a cup of tea in one hand and a handkerchief filled with ice in the other.

“You’re awake, then? Good.” He sat beside her on the couch. “Here, put this on your cheek. He really clocked you. Don’t worry—I made him pay for that.”

She tried to smile, but it hurt too much. She whimpered at the effort, then pressed the handkerchief to her cheek. “Ouch.”

“What happened?” he asked.

She shrugged. “I think he was drinking.”

“He’s a mean drunk,” Luca replied. “I don’t know him well, but usually he seems okay. His wife has always been kind to everyone in the building, that’s why I tagged along when she had the baby, wanted to make sure she was okay.”

“Thanks for rescuing me,” Mima replied, then tried to wriggle her jaw. “I don’t know what would’ve happened if you hadn’t come in when you did.”