Filling in the Blanks

"Daddy, I can't wake mummy up."

Scott blocked out his daughter's voice and tried to concentrate on the sentence he was reading for the third time. Unimpressed, she climbed onto his knee, pulling on his t-shirt to assist her, and wrapped her skinny arms round his neck. "Daddy…"

"Daddy's working Madison."

"But I want mummy to wake up."

Suddenly Scott heard what she was saying and looked at her warily. "Mummy's sleeping. You haven't been in there trying to wake her have you?" She beamed her reply at him and he sighed. "Maddy, you know mummy's not well. She needs to sleep to get better."

"I can make her better. Like this." Scott smiled as she hugged him tightly, and tried to ignore the snotty nose she was wiping against his chest.

"I wish you could sweetheart." he said, stroking her messy, blonde hair. Charlene had barely left the bedroom for weeks now and looking after the kids, running the house and getting his work done on time without her help was proving impossible. The kids had had no milk on their cereal this morning, Madison was currently wearing her brother's shorts and a t-shirt with so many stains on it they almost formed a new pattern, and unless he made some real progress with his article today he was going to miss his deadline.

Madison pulled away and stood up on his knee, fixing him with an icy blue death ray stare. "You make her better then. I want my mummy back." Sometimes she looked so much like her mother it was uncanny. Scott was convinced Charlene used the same stare herself to read his mind. And Madison had certainly inherited her mother's determined personality. Well, it had been determined until recently.

Somehow Scott managed to get Madison dressed properly and to nursery reasonably on time after her dinner. Returning home he popped his head round the bedroom door before settling back down to work. He was surprised to see the bed empty, then jumped as he heard a loud crash from the kitchen. Hurrying through he found Charlene picking up pieces of plate from the floor.

"What are you doing?" he asked, joining her on the floor. "Let me get that."

"Scott, I can do it."

"I thought you'd still be asleep."

"Yeah well, you know what thought did." Charlene collected the last pieces of plate and began wrapping them in newspaper. Scott watched her, biting back further comment. She was wearing the same pyjamas she'd had on for days, her hair hadn't been washed for even longer and stuck out round her head like dandelion fuzz, and yet he still felt a tug in his chest when he looked at her. "Sorry," Charlene apologised quietly.

Scott paused a minute before answering "I can't help if you don't let me. And I don't mean with the plate." Charlene shook her head. "You know what the doctor said," Scott continued. "You need to talk this through. We both do." Walking over to her and taking her hand he said quietly "It was my baby too." Charlene pulled her hand away and carried on wrapping the plate. "Come on, the kids are at school for 2 hours yet…"

"You're working." Charlene waved a hand absent-mindedly at the papers strewn across the kitchen table.

"What is more important?" Scott ran his hand through his hair in frustration.

"I need to clear this away before Madison tries to eat it…" Charlene picked up the wrapped plate and headed for the back door, then flinched as Scott grabbed her arm. "Hey!" Angrily she jerked her arm away.

"All I want to do is talk Charlene, is that too much to ask?" He could see her wavering and was relieved when she turned back to face him. Seizing his chance he took the parcel from her hand and put it back on the side, then gently put his hand on her shoulders. "Come here." He pulled her into his arms, feeling her stiffen slightly as he did so. Ignoring that he tightened his arms and was surprised to feel her body begin shaking with sobs. She hadn't cried since they'd lost the baby, or the dreadful months since. Putting his hand on the back of her head he rocked her slowly against him, shushing her like he'd done for years with the children.

"I want my mum Scott!" Charlene cried, gripping her fists against the back of his t-shirt.

"I know, I know." While his wife cried Scott thought back to the day Charlene had phoned Madge to give her the exciting news of a new grandchild, only to be told the horrendous news that she'd just been diagnosed with terminal cancer. Instead of sharing her own news Charlene had hung up the phone in shock and began packing a bag to fly to Erinsborough. Putting the pulling pains in her stomach down to shock she left packing to pick Daniel up from school, then collapsed walking home.

A neighbour had been passing and drove them to hospital, then phoned Scott. By the time he arrived Charlene was haemorrhaging badly and barely conscious, and all he could do was watch helplessly as seemingly endless bags of blood were transfused into her. The baby had already died, and for countless very long hours Scott knew it was a real possibility that he'd lose Charlene too.

They'd been warned after Madison was born that any future pregnancies would be high risk - Madison was a difficult pregnancy throughout, then born breech. Typically stubborn, Charlene had insisted she wanted a natural birth not a caesarean - it had all gone so well with Daniel. Her doctor conceded that as this was a second birth her tiny body did have a chance of handling a breech delivery.

Things couldn't have been more different second time around. Early labour had dragged on for hours and Charlene was already exhausted before Madison finally decided she was ready to appear. Then things escalated quickly as the doctor they had on standby was unable to deliver her, even with mechanical assistance. She became distressed and despite Charlene's protests was delivered by emergency caesarean.

Scott was brought back from his thoughts by Charlene shifting in his arms. "I need a tissue." she mumbled, rubbing her eyes with her fists. Scott made a mental note to boil wash his t-shirt, now covered with snot from both the women in his life, as he walked over to the windowsill then handed Charlene the tissue box.

"Come with me." Holding her hand, he led her through to the living room and sat next to her on their battered, green couch - the first grown up purchase they'd made together, which had been well used over the years. "Do you want to read the letter your mum sent you?" he asked. It had been sitting on the mantel piece for weeks now, Madge had written it when Scott rang to explain why Charlene was no longer able to visit. Charlene had been furious with him - shouting that she didn't want her mother to have to take on her own worries too, and insisting she would fly down to visit within weeks.

When Scott pointed out that she wouldn't be able to fly for at least 10 weeks, on doctor's orders, they had their biggest row in months and Charlene began to slip further into the depression she was still suffering from now. At first she'd made plans to travel by other means but quickly realised even getting out of bed was a struggle.

When the doctors had been unable to stop her haemorrhaging after her miscarriage they'd asked Scott to give permission to carry out a hysterectomy. Scott found himself in an impossible situation - he knew his wife desperately wanted a large family, she joked often that she wanted 6 children, and he didn't feel he had the right to take that away from her. On the other hand, if he said no then he could lose her, and their children would be left with no mum. He knew all too well how that felt, and reluctantly agreed to the doctors plans.

As he'd feared, Charlene was devastated when she finally came round and was given the news. She barely spoke to him for days, only breaking her silence to yell at him when she heard of his phone call to her mum. Sadly, days after the phone call Madge had begun suffering from an infection and died shortly after.

"Maybe tomorrow." Charlene now answered his question about the letter. Scott managed to stop himself commenting that she'd said that every time the letter had been mentioned since it's arrival. It took him a second to realise that Charlene hadn't dropped her gaze as she'd done so often lately, and was now staring straight into his eyes.

"What?" He asked, shifting slightly in his seat. Charlene shrugged.

"Just looking at you." she said. Almost shyly she reached up and put her hand on his cheek. "I'm so sorry you've had to deal with all this on your own. I just don't know how to handle it." Scott remained silent as she gently stroked his face with her fingertips. It had been weeks since she'd touched him like this. "And I'm sorry for the way I blamed you, for making the choice you did. If it had been the other way round I'd have done everything I could to keep you here too." Scott felt his heart lift slightly and pulled her back into his arms.

"I've never felt so alone in my life," he said huskily. "I was so scared I'd lose you."

"Maybe tomorrow we should go back to the doctor, see if he still thinks pills will help." Charlene didn't sound keen.

"I know how strongly you feel about beating this on your own though…" Slowly Scott traced small circles on her back, not wanting to put her off now she'd finally started to talk. "Besides, Daniel's still convinced that getting a puppy will make you better in no time." Charlene smiled into his chest for the first time since all this had begun. She loved her son with all her heart but his rather naïve outlook on life was equalled only by his dad.

"He'd promise a puppy could help me out in the garage if he thought it meant we'd buy him one." Tucking her legs underneath her she snuggled deeper into his arms. Looking down on her head, now looking suspiciously like settling down for a nap, Scott tried not to think of the deadline looming over his own head.