Fractured

by Dawn Barker

Genres: General Fiction; Family Life; Women's Fiction; Mystery; Thrillers

Synopsis

Even the perfect family can fall apart. This compelling, emotional debut from Dawn Barker now includes a bonus sample of her new book, Let Her Go . An unforgettable novel that brings to life a new mother's worst fears. Tony is worried. His wife, Anna, isn't coping with their newborn. Anna had wanted a child so badly and, when Jack was born, they were both so happy. They'd come home from the hospital a family. Was it really only six weeks ago? But Anna hasn't been herself since. One moment she's crying, the next she seems almost too positive. It must be normal with a baby, Tony thought; she's just adjusting. He had been busy at work. It would sort itself out. But now Anna and Jack are missing. And Tony realises that something is really wrong... What happens to this family will break your heart and leave you breathless. 'Moving at a cracking pace, Fractured is part psychological thriller, part family drama. ... This novel will be a great book club read as it ends with more questions than answers' - Bookseller & Publisher ' Fractured is an extraordinary exploration of mental illness and grief told with great confidence and compassion.' - Newtown Review of Books

Release date: February 26, 2013

Publisher: Hachette Australia

Print pages: 355

Sample

Monday, 14 September 20098.40 A.M.


Tony’s footsteps echoed as he hurried across the underground car park and into the lift. Inside, he repeatedly pressed the
button for the top floor of the building until the doors slid closed, then looked at his watch. He hated being late, but today
there was nothing he could do about it. His stomach lurched as the lift started to move. As soon as the doors began to open,
he squeezed though the gap, ran out onto the landing and through the glass doors of the office.


‘Morning, Tony,’ said Julie from behind the reception desk.

‘Morning. Have they started yet?’

‘Not yet. They’re waiting for you.’

‘Great, thanks,’ he said over his shoulder. He was already halfway down the carpeted corridor, and could see through the glass
walls of the conference room that his team and the clients were already inside, chatting and eating pastries and croissants
from a platter on the table. He took a deep breath then pushed open the door.


‘Sorry,’ he said, smiling. ‘Traffic was terrible.’

There was a general murmur of understanding as he took off his suit jacket and hung it on the back of the black leather chair
at the head of the table. As he sat down he noticed the crumpled creases between the buttons on his shirt that he had forgotten
to iron that morning. He smoothed down the material with his hand and tucked it tighter into his waistband, then leaned over
to pour himself some coffee from the plunger on the table. Everyone seemed happy to keep chatting as he took a few more deep breaths to settle his nerves. He tried to tell himself it was just the presentation
that was making him anxious, but he knew that wasn’t the real reason.


Danielle, one of the copywriters, pushed the milk and sugar closer to him and smiled. ‘You getting any sleep yet?’

He smiled back and pointed at his eyes. ‘Not much … Can’t you tell?’

She wrinkled up her face and put her hands on her pregnant belly. ‘I’ve got all that to look forward to.’

‘It’s all worth it – or so they keep telling me.’ He unzipped his laptop bag. As he started to take out his computer, his
phone rang. He sighed, wishing he’d switched it off. He put his bag back on the table then took his phone out of his pocket
and glanced at the screen. It was his mum. He groaned. Why was she calling? She should be at the house by now. He hesitated
for a moment, then stood up and walked towards the door. ‘Sorry, I need to get this. I’ll be right back.’


He stepped outside and let the door swing closed behind him, then answered the call. ‘Mum? What’s wrong?’

‘Hi. Don’t worry, nothing’s wrong. Sorry to call you at work, but I’ve just arrived and Anna’s not home. The door’s locked.
Was she going out?’


His heart began to beat faster. ‘Out? No. She was still in bed when I left. She knew you were coming round.’

‘That’s OK. I’m a bit late. She probably waited then went to the shops.’

‘Is her car there?’

‘Hold on … No, I can’t see it. Maybe she forgot I was coming.’

‘Have you called her mobile?’

‘Yes, but it’s ringing out. She’ll have gone to get milk or something. She won’t be long, I’m sure. Don’t worry, I’ll wait
for a bit.’


He paused. What his mum said made perfect sense, and on any other day he’d agree with her, but something told him that he
should be worried. He was standing only a few metres away from the small office kitchen where three people were talking while
the kettle boiled. He walked back along the corridor, past the reception desk and out of the office. He paced around the landing
near the lifts and started to talk again, quieter this time. ‘They should be there. Something’s not right …’


‘What do you mean? Is it Jack?’

Tony was hot, and his chest felt tight. He pulled at the neck of his shirt. ‘I don’t know.’ He cleared his throat; he needed
some water. ‘I just don’t understand why they’re not there, that’s all. Jack was sleeping when I left, and Anna was still
in bed.’


He ran his left hand through his thick, dark hair then rubbed the back of his neck. He looked towards the conference room.
Everyone was waiting for him. They’d been preparing for this meeting for weeks; he needed to get back in there. He felt a
surge of irritation. Anna hadn’t left the house all weekend. Why would she go out now?


‘Anthony?’

He realised the phone was trembling in his hand. He looked down at the polished black leather of his shoes. He could hear
the muffled laughter and chatter coming from behind the glass doors, and the faint buzz on the end of the phone as his mum
waited for him to explain.


‘Sorry, it’s just that Anna hasn’t been getting much sleep, she’s been really tired. And Jack – he’s been difficult.’

He closed his eyes and pictured Anna lying in bed this morning, exhausted. She had asked him to stay with her, but he couldn’t.
Was that why she’d gone out, to show him that she’d been serious about not wanting his mum to come over? He took a step back
towards the meeting, then stopped and shook his head. Anna wasn’t like that. There was something else going on; he had to
go home.


‘Mum, stay there. I’ll be back as soon as I can.’

‘No, don’t be silly, there’s no need —’

‘I’m leaving now. I won’t be long.’ He ended the call before she could argue and hurried back to the conference room.

Danielle’s eyes widened as he grabbed his bag and jacket. ‘What are you doing?’ she whispered, leaning towards him.

‘I have to go – something’s come up. I’m sorry.’

‘But —’

‘You can handle it. The presentation’s all ready to go.’ He looked up: everyone was watching him. He knew his workmates were
alarmed; he rarely missed a day of work and would never walk out without a good reason. The clients deserved an explanation
but he didn’t know what to say. He didn’t really understand it himself; something just told him that he had to find Anna.
He cleared his throat, looked around the room again, then turned and quickly walked out.


The lift wasn’t waiting when he reached the lobby, so he wrenched open the heavy fire door and clattered down endless flights
of concrete stairs to the car park. He ran towards his silver four-wheel drive, opened the door and climbed in. When he turned
the key in the ignition the CD he had been listening to on the way to work roared around him. He hit the volume button to
turn it off; he had to concentrate. His mind was flitting around, thinking of all the possibilities, but he told himself to
take it one step at a time.


Put your seatbelt on, put the car into gear, release the handbrake, press the pedal, drive. Slowly.

* * *

When Tony pulled up at his house, its familiarity reassured him. The semi-detached bungalow stood where it always had, pressing
against its neighbour for support. He and Anna had bought it a few years ago, just after their engagement. Their half was
painted creamy white; the neighbour’s half was beige. Birds of paradise flowers nodded their heads at him over the fence.
The lemon tree they had planted in the front garden when they moved in was covered in waxy white flowers, and the passionfruit
vine clung to the green trellis around the front door with thin, curly fingers. A few months ago Anna had ceremoniously picked
the only passionfruit that had ever grown on it and served it with vanilla bean ice-cream; they had agreed that it was the
best dessert they had ever eaten.


He stepped out of the car and looked up and down the street. Cars still drove past, builders still hammered at the house opposite,
and the neighbour’s retriever still barked at the birds pecking the patchy grass verge. He shook his head and his heart rate
began to settle. He was being silly: there was no doubt a simple explanation for Anna and Jack not being here.


His mum, Ursula, waved from the driver’s seat of her blue station wagon, where she sat reading the paper with the door open
to let in the early spring breeze. She took off her reading glasses and let them dangle from the cord around her neck, folded
the paper and placed it on the passenger seat, then picked up her black handbag.


‘I couldn’t find a key,’ she said, as she stepped out and locked the car door.

‘Sorry, it’s round the back.’

‘I’m sure everything’s fine, Anthony. One thing I learned from raising you and your sister is that there’s always a simple
explanation for things – it’s never as bad as you think.’


‘You’re right, I know …’

‘Well, come on then.’

He took a deep breath and walked up the path to the front door. Turning his key in the lock, he pushed open the door, jumping
at the jingle of the string of bells hanging on the back of it. Anna’s best friend Emily had bought them for her as a present
from some yoga retreat in India. The heels of Tony’s work shoes made the same hollow noise they always did on the blackbutt
floorboards, before being muffled by the runner that stretched down the length of the narrow hallway. The bedrooms were off
to the left, but he headed straight for the kitchen and living area at the back of the house.


‘Anna?’ He stood in the kitchen and looked across the living room and through the French doors to the small back garden. Their
Staffordshire terrier, Jessie, gazed hopefully through the glass, her tongue lolling and tail wagging.


‘She must have gone out, Anthony,’ Ursula said, walking up behind him. ‘I’ve checked the bedrooms – she’s not here.’

‘But she knew you were coming round.’ He rubbed his face, trying to think clearly. It didn’t add up.

‘Well, maybe she’s gone to the shops to get something. Is this hers?’ Ursula picked up a mobile phone from the kitchen counter.

He nodded, staring at it. ‘She never goes out without her phone.’ He looked at his mum, silently pleading with her to keep
reassuring him.


‘It’s only a phone, it doesn’t mean anything. Has she taken her bag?’

Tony glanced around the kitchen, then went into the living area, lifted up the sofa cushions and bent down to check under
the coffee table, even though he could see that it wasn’t there. ‘Looks like it.’ If she had her bag, then she had her purse;
his mum was right, she must have gone to the shops.


‘We’ll just wait a bit. I’ll put the kettle on.’ Ursula filled the kettle, then opened the cupboard. She rummaged around for
a moment before looking at the dishwasher. ‘Did you put this on before you went to work?’


He tried to remember, but there were so many other memories from that morning crowding his thoughts. ‘Um … I don’t think so.’

‘Well, she hasn’t been gone long then – it’s still running.’ Ursula opened the door. The rush of water paused as she reached
through the steam and took out two mugs.


He stood still as he watched her take them to the sink to rinse. Where the hell was Anna? She definitely hadn’t said she was
going out; she hadn’t said much at all. That didn’t mean anything though, did it? She was an adult, she didn’t have to tell
him insignificant details. She must have gone to the shops but forgotten her phone and so couldn’t tell Ursula. But she wouldn’t
go far; Jack must be due for another feed soon and Anna didn’t like breastfeeding in public.


While Ursula made the tea, he walked back down the hall to Jack’s room. It looked the same as it had this morning, except
that Jack was no longer lying asleep in his cot. The blinds were still drawn and his blankets were ruffled. He left and went
into his and Anna’s bedroom. Anna had tidied up before she left: the bed was made and the dirty laundry was gone from the
floor. That was a good sign. But then he noticed the cup of tea he’d made her this morning sitting untouched on the bedside table, the slick sheen of congealed milk floating on top. It was still full; she
hadn’t even taken a sip. His eyes filled with tears. Why hadn’t she drunk the tea?


He glanced down at the bedside table to the silver photo frame that held their wedding picture. They looked so young: was
it really only two years ago? He remembered Anna’s smile when she walked down the aisle towards him, her knuckles white as
she gripped her bouquet of pink lilies. She had looked like a princess. He had tried to hide his own tears as they exchanged
vows, but later, when they sneaked away from the dancing for some time together, she had teased him for crying. They had been
happy.


Tony admonished himself for thinking in the past tense. They were still happy.


He picked up the frame. In the corner, Anna had wedged a photo taken on the day they brought Jack home from the hospital,
less than six weeks ago. Tony had his arm around her and, between them, she held Jack, wrapped up in a white cotton blanket,
fast asleep. They were smiling, but it was different from the grins of excitement and anticipation of the newlyweds in the
main photo. These were the smiles of brand-new parents, full of pride but tinged with uncertainty. He blinked several times,
put the frame back down. There was nothing in here to tell him where she was. He walked quickly back to the front door and
opened it again; the pram was gone from the porch.


Closing the door, he stood inside with his hands in his pockets. He thought back to that morning. He had lifted Jack out of
bed, given him a bottle of breast milk, then put him down again. He’d made Anna some tea and left it on the bedside table
next to her. He had told Anna that his mum was coming over; she hadn’t been happy about it but she definitely knew. And she also knew that Tony
would be back in a few hours. So where had she gone?


Everything looked exactly as it should. But Anna and Jack weren’t here.

11 A.M.


Ursula finished reading the newspaper for the second time, then rummaged through the pile of magazines on the shelf under
the coffee table. She picked up a surfing magazine and flicked through it, watching Tony from the corner of her eye. He sat
on a stool at the kitchen bench with his computer open, tapping the mouse pad every so often. He picked up his phone, checked
it was still connected to the charger, then put it down next to the laptop.


She tossed the magazine onto the table and stretched her arms above her head. She yawned loudly, then stood up. ‘I might go
and get us some lunch,’ she said.


Her words seemed to break Tony’s trance. He closed his laptop, then scraped the metal legs of his stool back along the floor
as he stood up. He reached for his car keys. ‘Don’t get me anything. I’m going to go and look for them.’


‘Where will you go? They could be anywhere.’

‘I don’t know, but I can’t just sit here and wait any more. Can you stay here in case Anna comes back? I won’t be long. I’m
just going to have a drive around.’


Ursula nodded. She was getting worried now too. ‘OK. I’ll call you if I hear anything.’

She watched Tony leave. As soon as the sound of his car faded, she called Jim. ‘Hi, love, not interrupting anything, am I?’

‘No, it’s fine, just having a cuppa. One of the apprentices didn’t bother showing up today so it’s been a bloody nightmare,
but I’m back in the office now. What’s going on?’


She filled him in.

‘That doesn’t sound like Anna,’ Jim said.

‘I know, it’s strange.’ She gazed at the grinning monkeys and giraffes on the fabric of the bouncer chair in the corner of
the living room. It had been her and Jim’s gift at the baby shower; Anna had squealed when she saw it, as excited as any expectant
mother. She had been surprised at Tony’s comment today that Anna had been finding Jack difficult; he always seemed so settled,
and Anna was so capable. She looked away. ‘I wouldn’t be so worried, but Anthony’s really stressed. It’s like there’s something
he’s not telling me.’


‘She wouldn’t have left him, would she?’

‘No, of course not! She wouldn’t just walk out; you know how good they are together.’ Ursula paused and looked out of the
window. ‘Though God knows it’s hard with a new baby. I told him he should have taken some time off instead of going back to
work the minute she got out of hospital.’


‘Don’t go on at him again about that.’

‘I’m not!’

‘She’ll be fine; they’ve probably just had a fight about something.’

She sighed. Sometimes she wished Jim would take things more seriously. He always made light of even the worst situation. Ursula
knew that this was one of the ways they balanced each other, but carrying the burden of worry for the entire family sometimes
wore her down. ‘I’ll let you get back to work. I’m sure it’s nothing. I’ll call Lisa, just in case Anna pops into her shop
or something. She’s been dying to see Jack again – maybe … Anyway, I’ll call you later.’


Ursula put the phone down. She switched on the television, but couldn’t concentrate. She remembered the first time that Tony
had taken Anna home to meet them. It was Lisa’s twenty-first birthday, almost six years ago now. They had met at the races
a few months earlier; Tony had been at a work function, while Anna was celebrating the end of her teacher training with friends.
Ursula had watched them together at the party and known that night that they would marry. No, Anna wouldn’t walk out on Tony.
Besides, if she wasn’t coming back, she would have taken clothes and toiletries for her and Jack, but she hadn’t. No, there
must be another explanation.


She stood up and walked into the kitchen. She rechecked the room: no bag, no keys. She opened the drawers and the cupboards
but everything looked the same as it always did. She switched the kettle on again and opened the fridge to find the milk.
As she went to close the door, she hesitated. On the top shelf, four baby bottles full of milk lay in a row, their teats covered
with clear plastic lids. She reached out and picked one up. She curled her palm around it, then opened the lid and squeezed
some of the milk onto her wrist: it wasn’t chilled yet. Anna had made these bottles up this morning, before she went out.
They were for Jack.


Anna would be back soon.

* * *

Tony felt better once he was out of the house. Pretending not to notice his mum as she pretended not to watch him had made
him even more restless. He drove along the streets around the house, then turned onto the main road that ran down to the beach.
It was a while since he’d been at home on a weekday; he was surprised at how quiet the traffic was. The midday sun was high
above him, and even though it wasn’t really swimming weather, backpackers and tourists were baking themselves on multicoloured
towels along the beach. Anna hated the sun: it seared her fair skin and gave her freckles. She wouldn’t be on the beach.


He indicated right, towards the city, then flicked the indicator off again. Anna never drove to the city: she always caught
the train so she wouldn’t have to find somewhere to park. He kept driving straight ahead, scanning the roads for Anna’s car.
Every time he saw a black hatchback he held his breath, then deflated when he realised that it wasn’t hers.


Parking at the local shops, he walked towards Anna’s favourite bookshop. She used to spend hours in there; perhaps she had
lost track of time? She was probably sitting at one of the tables with a coffee reading some huge novel while Jack slept in the pram next to her. She’d laugh at Tony for being so worried. He paused
at the doorway, giving himself another moment of hope. If they weren’t inside, it would be another victory to the choking,
viscous fear that was rising in his chest, his throat, his mouth. He breathed in: the air was fresh. He swallowed, told himself
not to be so silly, then walked into the store. But Anna and Jack weren’t at any of the small tables, or among the shelves,
or in the children’s section at the back.


They weren’t here.

Back out on the street, he walked faster, methodically checking every shop and cafe, trying to ignore the uneasiness that
became stronger with each step. He headed across the road to the beachfront and marched through the playground in the park,
glancing involuntarily in every pram, listening carefully for Anna’s laugh or Jack’s cry. Crossing back to the shops, he began
to jog. Perhaps she was walking and they were going round the same circuit, constantly missing each other. If he sped up,
he’d catch her. He passed the same row of shops again, faster, frantic now, his feet starting to swell and rub against his
work shoes. But there was still no sign of them.


He ended up back at the bookshop. He wiped the sweat from his forehead and forced himself to sit down and have a coffee, to
think, to be logical. It wasn’t like him to panic; it wouldn’t help. He checked his phone again: there were no missed calls
and it hadn’t run out of power. He tried to swallow down the gnarled twist of anxiety rising in his chest.


Anna and Jack had disappeared.

He stared at the swirls on top of his coffee, which he supposed were meant to look like some sort of leaf. He ripped open
a brown paper sachet of raw sugar and dumped it into the centre of the cup, watching the crystals slowly sink, then finally
collapse and submerge, leaving a gaping hole in the middle of the intricate pattern. Blinking hard, he picked up the teaspoon
and began to stir. He already had a headache, so the caffeine probably wasn’t a good idea, but fatigue and a sense of inevitability
were starting to weigh him down. Shaking his head, he dropped his spoon on the table with a clang. He couldn’t slow down. He had to find them.


He looked at his phone again but there were still no messages. He scrolled through his numbers until he found Emily’s. Emily
and Anna spoke almost every day, they had grown up together, and until Anna went on maternity leave they had worked together.
If Anna had been planning anything, Emily would know. He dialled the number, annoyed with himself; he should have called her
sooner.


She answered on the third ring with a cheery, ‘Hi Tony!’

‘Hey, Emily. Sorry to bother you at work. Can you talk?’

‘Yeah, of course. I’m just walking to the staffroom – thank God it’s lunchtime, the kids have been a nightmare today. There’s
only so many hours I can spend teaching five-year-olds about the letter M. How are you?’


He felt some of the tension in his shoulders slacken as he listened to Emily’s chirpy voice. His relief only lasted a few
moments, though, as he realised that he hadn’t heard Anna speak like that for weeks. She used to sound like Emily did now
– bright, excited, enthusiastic – but lately she’d been so quiet and distracted. He took a deep breath.


‘I’m good, thanks. Um … it’s probably nothing, but have you heard from Anna today?’

‘No, I haven’t spoken to her since last week. Why?’

‘I’m sure everything’s fine. It’s just that Mum was coming round to see her and Jack this morning, but she’s not here, and
I can’t find her. They’ve disappeared.’


‘She’s probably just taken Jack for a walk. She must have lost track of time.’

Tony nodded, eager to be reassured. Emily was right. She didn’t sound worried at all, and she was probably the only person
who knew Anna as well as he did. In the background he could hear schoolchildren chattering and squealing, and the trample
of little footsteps running down a corridor. It all sounded so normal, and that meant there had to be a reasonable explanation
for this. ‘Yeah, you’re right. Thanks. Will you let me know if she gets in touch with you?’


‘Of course … Tony, is everything all right?’

‘Yes, yes. It’s just not like her, that’s all.’

‘I know, she never forgets anything, does she? God, remember that spreadsheet of jobs she gave me for your wedding?’ Emily
laughed. ‘But I’ve read about new mums and baby brain – it’s the hormones. When I last spoke to her, she said she was exhausted.
I’m sure that’s all it is. She was going to call me this week and arrange to bring Jack into work for a visit. The kids can’t
wait to meet him.’


‘Good. Well, if you happen to hear anything …’

‘I’ll tell her to call you straightaway. Don’t worry, Tony, she’ll be fine!’

He sighed. ‘Thanks, I better go. I’ll talk to you later.’

He put the phone down on the table and stared at it. What Emily said made perfect sense. Anna was tired; she had just forgotten.
She was organising a visit to work to show Jack off to everyone. She wouldn’t have said that if she hadn’t meant it; Anna
always stuck to her commitments. Tony repeated these facts to himself, hoping that if he said them enough times, he would
start to believe them.


* * *

As he was driving home, a young guy in a sports car pulled out in front of him. Tony swore and slammed the heel of his hand
onto the steering wheel to blare his horn. Anger bubbled over.


Why the hell hadn’t Anna taken her phone? Then he could call her, she could tell him where she and Jack were, and everything
would be OK. Maybe Jack was sick and she’d had to take him to the doctor. But then she would have called him, surely? They
would have let her use the phone at the GP’s rooms. Maybe her car had broken down and she was stuck somewhere. He should call
the hospitals, just in case. Was he being ridiculous? He drove slowly, giving her one last chance to appear before he arrived
back home again.


He walked into the house, hoping to hear Anna and his mum chatting. The television was on but only Ursula was there. She looked
at him and shook her head. Anna had been gone for over four hours now: he could no longer kid himself that she’d just gone
to the shops or for a walk. Without a word to his mum, he opened his laptop, still on the kitchen bench, and searched for
the number he wanted. He typed it into his phone, then dialled.


‘Yes, hello. My name is Anthony Patton. I need to make a report.’ He paused and gulped. ‘My wife and baby are missing.’

He heard his mum walk towards him and knew she was trying to catch his eye. He turned his back to her and walked into his
bedroom as he answered the operator’s questions. What was his name? His date of birth? Anna’s full name and date of birth?
When had he last seen her? He answered in an even voice, hoping that he was overreacting, hoping that before he’d finished
making the report, Anna would walk into the house and ask him what he was doing.


The operator continued, ‘Have you checked with her family and friends? Often people turn up —’

‘Yes, of course I have!’ He clenched his fist around the phone. Did the police think he was stupid? He bowed his head and
wiped his eyes with the back of his thumb.


‘Are you still there?’ the operator said.

Tony cleared his throat. He needed to stay calm. ‘Look, she hasn’t been well … The doctor gave her tablets …’ He glanced towards
the open door, where Ursula stood frowning. He looked away. ‘She’s taken the car, and the pram, and her bag, but it’s just
not like her to go out without leaving word. I wouldn’t call if I didn’t think there was something very wrong.’


The questions kept coming. The operator asked for a description of Jack. He hesitated: how could he describe Jack? He was
a tiny baby. Tony tried to picture him, but could only see him as a little bundle in Anna’s arms; that was where he always
was. When the operator asked what Anna was wearing, he admitted that he hadn’t seen her in anything but baggy old pyjamas
for days.


His heart pounded, but he forced himself to concentrate on the questions. He could barely hear them over the ringing in his
ears, louder and louder as the voice on the end of the phone droned on and on until he was sure his head was going to split
open.


‘For God’s sake, just do something!’ he burst out.