It was pouring cats and dogs outside; thunder reverberated across the night sky like a monster flashing its teeth. Stormy weather always made Elle nervous. Guess she'd passed that onto Maya as the poor child cowered into Elle's body.
"Shh!" Elle soothed. "Mummy's right here, honey. Nothing's going to get you." She kissed her two-year-old daughter's head lovingly.
"I want daddy!" Maya wailed as lightning ripped open the world outside.
"Daddy can't be here right now, baby," Elle cooed, anything to calm Maya and get her to fall asleep. "Daddy is at work, remember?" But the inconsolable child kept whimpering. Elle couldn't blame her for wanting her father more than she needed her mother. After all, daddy always put the world right. The phone shrilled, causing Maya to jump in fright. Elle stretched to reach it.
"How are you girls?" her father asked before Elle could even say hello.
"Maya is scared out of her wits, but I'm okay," Elle said, feeling Maya quiver.
"Who is that?" Maya asked, poking her head out from the blanket for the first time since she'd rushed into bed with her.
"Grampy." Elle smiled and handed over the phone.
"Come over, Grampy!" she begged.
"Would love to, darling, but Grampy is very far away, remember?" Maya huffed and handed Elle the phone back. "Blake's on duty tonight?" her father asked once Elle was on the line.
"He finishes in a couple of hours."
"Can't imagine much trouble in that rain they say you're having."
Elle laughed. "This is Sydney, dad. Crime doesn't sleep here."
"When are you guys heading up, then?"
"Tell them to leave straight after breakfast, Bertie. Tell Ellie I'm making lunch," Elle could hear her mother call.
Elle stroked Maya's back. "Dad, tell mum we're already packed, but Blake still needs to catch up on his sleep before we drive up tomorrow, so don't expect us till dinner."
"What time does he finish, anyway? It's already nine."
"Midnight."
"Alright then, you girls get some sleep. See you tomorrow."
"See you tomorrow," Elle said. "We wouldn't even think about missing your Silver Jubilee."
"Who would have thought we would make it to our silver jubilee!" Bert laughed. "All right, honey, see you tomorrow."
"I did!" Elle smiled. "Goodnight dad, love you." She couldn't help but laugh as she put the phone back in its cradle.
Another flash of lightning lassoed through the night sky, and thunder followed with all its might. She hoped Maya wouldn't wake up from it, but she continued breathing evenly and Elle moved her over to Blake's pillow. It would be about four hours before he'd get home. She hoped his night was quiet, and all he was doing was waiting out to end the shift with his partner in the office or the patrol car somewhere. It was her last thought before she slipped into slumber.
Maya's incessant, restless moving woke Elle up a few hours later. The light in the room was still on, pulling her attention to the empty, cold half of the mattress where she usually finds her husband. She reached for her phone on the nightstand and turned it on to look.
"Two?" Elle murmured, confused. Blake should be home already. Why hadn't he come to bed yet?
She rose slowly from the bed so as not to disturb Maya and went to check the lounge. Sometimes he'd come home and watch TV to unwind. As she walked out into the corridor, she found the entire house dark and quiet. She flicked her phone up to double-check the time again. It now read five past two.
"Blake?" she whispered, and waited to hear a whisper back, but nothing. It was unlike Blake to run late and not tell her so.
She closed the bedroom door and made her way down the hall, into the lounge, hoping that perhaps he had fallen asleep on the couch, but Blake was nowhere in sight. She speed-dialed Blake's mobile phone and listened to it ring a few times before reaching his voicemail.
"Blake Sommers. I can't take your call right now. Please leave a message and I'll get back to you. Ta."
Annoyed, Elle hung up and dialed again, hoping he'd pick up this time. And again it went through to his voice mail. It got her to worry. Was he with someone else, she wondered, but told herself off for it immediately. Blake wasn't the unfaithful type. So what was keeping him?
Elle dialed his work for the first time in a long time. She didn't know why, but something was making her worry. "Hi, can you tell me if Officer Sommers is still on duty tonight?" she asked when the phone went unanswered.
"I'm sorry, I need to know who you are," the male voice asked slowly, carefully.
It was the care in the voice that made Elle snap up. "I'm his wife." Her heart thundered. Something was wrong, it was saying. "Is he okay?" The question slipped out, and she could hear men murmuring to one another before one got back to her. It was an unfamiliar voice now, deeper, calmer.
"Mrs. Sommers, I understand?"
Elle nodded, clasping the phone to her ear. "Yes, can somebody please tell me what's going on?"
"Could you get ready, ma'am? I will send an officer to collect you."
"Where's Blake?" she choked.
"I'll have someone escort you over in 15 minutes?"
"He's hurt, isn't he?"
After a long pause, came the words, "Yes. Officer Sommers and his partner were caught in a shootout earlier. I'm really sorry." Pause. "Please get ready, Mrs. Sommers. I'll have someone come and bring you to the hospital."
"He is going to be okay?" Elle breathed.
"They have rushed him into surgery," the man said. "Mrs. Sommers, I'm sorry, I've got to go. Please take care. Someone will be there for you within half an hour."
As soon as the phone went dead, Elle dropped to the ground, her legs unable to hold her up. Her breath kept catching in her throat in and she refused to shed tears, even though all she wanted to do was roll up into a ball and wail.
'Not till I'm cold and dead.' She could almost imagine Blake ordering her. Not a tear till he was gone. Elle knew he'd feel terrible if he ever found out she'd thought such thoughts.
"He's not gone!" Elle muttered forcefully to herself. Get a hold of yourself!
"Where is daddy?" Maya rubbed the sleep out of her eyes with her tiny fists, sending Elle shivering. Maya was so young, so young.
"What are you doing up, baby?" she choked, startlingly aware for the first time that Maya looked so very much like her father. Same dusty brown curls and the blue eyes, with their thick lashes.
"Where is daddy?" Maya asked once more.
Elle shook her head. 'Please get ready, Mrs. Sommers. I'll have someone come and bring you to the hospital.' The words trailed in her head and she drew a sharp breath, got up, grabbed Maya by the hand, and walked back to the bedroom. They had to get ready. Blake was waiting.
Within minutes Elle had changed herself and Maya into street clothes, rugged up with jackets. She grabbed her bag, a bottle of milk, and Maya's diapers. But the simple act of waiting was driving her crazy.
Blake would pull through. He was a fighter, a man who couldn't imagine leaving his girls behind. He'd pull through. She paced with the thought.
Elle eyed the luggage standing by the side of the lounge for their Tamworth trip. Guess that wasn't happening anymore. Oddly aware of the numbness in her heart, she picked up her phone from the floor and dialed.
"Hello," her father answered groggily.
"Dad," Elle choked back tears.
"What's wrong?" he asked. Somehow he knew, he always knew.
Elle bit her lip, scared of what was about to slip from her lips. "It's Blake."
"Who is it, Bertie?"
"Something's happened to Blake," her father said, and she imagined him rushing out of bed. "Where are you and Maya?"
"At home, waiting for someone to pick us up and take us to the hospital," she managed, struggling to keep from sobbing like a child, for Maya's sake. "I'm so scared, daddy. I'm so scared."
"Call Chloe, honey. She should be with you," Bert said, and she could hear her mother fumbling behind him. "I'll call Steve and Ester. Have them stay with you until we get there."
"But, da, what about your?"
"You need us right now, Ellie," he stated simply. "it was just a dumb party. Your mother's already getting things packed. We'll be up there in six hours, okay?"
"Okay."
"Call Chloe!" With that, her dad was gone.
Before Elle got enough courage to call her cousin, the phone rang.
"Daddy?" Maya woke up.
"No, honey, go back to sleep." Elle patted her head and answered the phone.
"Elle, Trish just called me. What's happened, darling?" her aunt Lexi asked. Elle quickly explained, seeing a car's headlight turn into the driveway.
"You ring me as soon as you know which hospital he's in, okay? I'll get there as soon as I can."
The knock came and Elle jumped up. "I'll call you back, Aunt Lexi." She rushed to the door and swung it open.
"Hi, Elle." It was Lionel, a friend of Blake's, looking somber.
"Hi," she managed.
"Thought it should be me, you know, coming to get you. Someone you know."
Elle nodded, bursting to get in the patrol car and be on her way. "Can you give me a hand with Maya?"
Lionel nodded and stepped in, heading straight for the little huddle on the sofa. He picked her up gently, and she clung to him like she'd cling to Blake, falling asleep in his arms.
"She thinks you're Blake," Elle whispered as Lionel carried her daughter out the door.
He slid Maya into the already fitted child seat in his vehicle and put her belt on. He opened the door for Elle, then got behind the wheel and pulled out of the driveway.
It was a few minutes before Elle could bring herself to seek information from Lionel. She didn't want to know anything had happened to Blake at all. "How is he?"
Lionel watched her in the rear-view mirror. "In surgery right now," he whispered.
"What happened?"
"They were called to check out a disturbance in a nearby neighbourhood they were patrolling. They were the closest patrol. They weren't expecting a shootout." Which loosely translated to, they didn't have their vests on.
Elle breathed. The only thing allowing her to keep her cool was Maya's presence in the car. "He's going to be okay?" Lionel remained quiet, and Elle knew his hesitation meant Blake was worse off than she'd initially thought. "What about his partner?"
"Both in surgery."
Elle's phone vibrated in her pocket, and she fished it out, glad of the interruption.
"Elle, what's this I hear? Blake's in a hospital?" Chloe questioned.
"Yes."
"Which hospital?"
Elle turned to Lionel, "Which hospital are we going to?"
"Westmead," Lionel answered, eyes straight ahead.
"We are picking up Aunty Lexy and her daughter," Chloe said. "Mum and dad should get there before us. Uncle Bertie said to tell you to keep calm. They'll get here by morning. They are already on their way with Blake's parents."
Tears trickled down Elle's face. Chloe had already taken care of everything and everybody. Her entire family was coming down, except for Ethan.
"Ethan should land in a couple of hours, and I'll get Pete to pick him up from the airport."
"Ethan's coming home?" Elle choked.
"Ethan's coming home."
Elle could no longer hold back the tears. "He'll be okay, won't he, Chloe?" she whispered.
She'd imagined such a scenario only a few times. It went with the territory of having a police officer as a partner. What would she do if something ever happened to Blake on duty? But Elle had never thought in a million years that it'd actually ever happen. The one time she thought about ever losing Blake, she'd almost broke off the wedding. What would she do now? What would she and Maya do now?
"Stop thinking about it, Ellie!" Chloe's stern but loving voice burst into her thoughts. "Blake's a fighter and for all we know, he's only grazed."
Lionel spoke. "We're almost there, Ellenor."
Elle nodded, her heart thudding, squeezing its way into her throat. "Chloe, I'm going to hang up, okay? Get here as soon as you can. I've got to go see him."
Lionel pulled the car into Emergency and got out to open Elle's door. "You go ahead. I'll bring Maya in for you."
When Ethan stepped into the corridor with Peter behind him, he could sense a chill in the air. It was eerie quiet. He could feel the entire weight of Elle's world on his shoulders. That was his sister in there, waiting in some sterile hospital room to find out if she was walking out as she'd walked in, a wife.
Chloe approached them, her eyes pink. She took Ethan in her arms and squeezed him tight. "You've lost some weight," she commented, letting him go.
"Where is she?" he asked quietly.
"Post-surgery. Next to him with everyone else."
"Take me to her."
Something about seeing Blake hooked up to machinery, and the tinge of his skin ripped through Ethan. He turned to Peter and whispered, "He won't make it, will he?"
Elle stayed quiet, her attention on Blake and the bleeping EKG monitor, his niece asleep on the couch. He placed his hands on Elle's shoulders and felt a tremble course through her. "They say he may not make it," she whispered, barely audible.
***
Elle sat quietly and still on the hard wooden seat facing the open casket, as the mourners came. Her eyes had dried red and swollen from a river she'd already cried. She looked small and pale in her plain black dress with her hair tied in a bun. She wore the pearl studs from her wedding. They'd been a gift from Blake. She wore no makeup, nor any other jewellery except the wedding ring. She twirled, and she twirled that golden band around her finger till she could feel the skin burn, and even then, she twirled it.
Countless faces came offering their condolences, but she heard not a word of what they said. Her mother sat beside her, politely speaking on Elle's behalf. Elle hadn't the courage to go up and see Blake. Not yet. Finding clothes to dress him in had been hard enough. It would be a whole other thing to see him in it. Her heart had shredded piece by piece as she'd picked out his favourite shirt, or the tie that suited him the best, or the memories that went with them. Then Ethan had swooped in and taken it all to the mortician because Elle couldn't get herself to do it.
Even that morning, she hadn't been able to bring herself to dress for the funeral, so she'd done the bare minimum after having sat on the edge of the bed for what felt like the entire night. The house had never been empty since Blake's passing. Her parents, his parents, and Ethan had all been staying over, trying not to leave her in her state. She couldn't remember the last time she'd washed up since Blake's death. She barely left their room—now hers. She'd remain in bed, eyes closed against the world, trying to feel his presence, his love. But every time she'd open her eyes, that feeling would evaporate in a wisp, reducing her to a blubbering mess who often cried herself to sleep.
"Elle." A barely there touch on her shoulder brought her back to the service, back to staring in Blake's direction. "Did you hear what I said?" her mother asked gently. Elle shook her head. "His colleagues are here."
Elle turned lifelessly towards the door and saw a throng of uniformed policemen making their way towards the front. One was being wheeled in, his ear heavily bandaged, one eye, swollen shut, and an arm in a cast.
"That must be his partner," breathed Trish, squeezing Elle's hand. For the first time that day, fresh tears rolled down Elle's eyes. The man looked over fifty, his face swollen and bruised. He looked uncomfortable in his uniform, and he kept a nervous gaze on Blake's casket.
Elle would have given anything to see Blake in that man's shoes. Why Blake? He was so young. This man had lived more than half his life and he looked far more damaged. The only way anyone would know how tragically Blake passed away was if they opened his shirt and saw the ugly scars on his chest, raw and unhealed. The rest of him lay untouched. She bet he looked as if he were sleeping even now, not that she'd walked over to look yet.
She swallowed nervously as the group headed her way.
"Our condolences, Ellenor," Lionel said, taking off his cap. "Blake was one of our best."
Elle nodded, fighting back tears, her eyes on the injured man. All the men standing before her took their hats off in unison.
"This is Officer Woodland," Lionel offered. "He was with your husband that night."
Elle nodded, swallowing back the lump that had formed in her throat. "How are you?" she asked.
Officer Woodland blinked away the tears in his one good eye and passed the cap he was holding to her. "He should have that."
Elle took the hat reluctantly. She hadn't wanted to bury him with any evidence of how or why he'd died. Why he was taken from her?
"He died on duty, trying to get both of us out of the stick when we were being fired at," Woodland said. "It's only fitting. It was part of who he was, Mrs. Sommers."
Elle bit her lip and nodded. They were right. Blake died doing what he loved. She passed the cap back to Woodland. "It'd mean more if you gave it to him."
Woodland nodded. Lionel wheeled him away. Elle rose to her feet, watching the men bid her husband farewell with honour, and dried her eyes. "I think I'll go see him now."
Ethan carried Maya as he came to take his seat beside Elle. He didn't say a word. He didn't have to. As the mourners seated with their service booklets, he gently woke Maya up. She climbed into the seat next to Elle and sobbed. Ethan sat down next to his niece and watched the rest of the family sit. Maya grabbed his hand and held it.
"Daddy won't wake up, Uncle Ethy?" she asked, and Ethan flinched.
He scooped her onto his lap and wrapped her in his arms. "Daddy got really, really tired, honey, working to catch all the bad people. And you know how when Maya plays chase with her friend and gets tired and sleepy?" Maya nodded. "And you know how you take a nap because you are tired?" Maya nodded again. "Well, honey, daddy got a lot more tired chasing big grown-up bad men, so God said to daddy he should rest and sleep so he won't hurt anymore." Ethan finished in a whisper, hugging the child to his chest.
Maya blinked tears from her eyes and pouted. "But I don't want daddy to sleep!"
Elle had begun to sob, and Ethan reached for her hand.
"Maya doesn't want daddy to hurt, does she?" he whispered into Maya's ear as the mourners sang their first hymn.
"No," Maya whimpered.
"Then you can't go wake him up, okay?" Ethan suggested. "We got to be quiet and let him listen to some songs and sleep."
She nodded and hugged him around the neck tightly. "Can I say goodnight to daddy?" she asked.
Ethan fought back tears. "Of course, you can, sweet pea. Of course, you can."