I heard the telephone ring and Maggie answer the caller. It was Candi, her flight had arrived in Sydney and she was waiting for her luggage and would someone be coming to get her or should she take a taxi, was her query. Mag and Jeanette volunteered to run back to the airport and pick her up. As I moved through the front room of the house in Bexley North I asked Melissa with only my eyes where I could find her mother. She motioned to Robin's bedroom. Sitting on the edge of the bed and staring at her hands and nowhere at the same time sat Geoff's mother. She looked up at me as I came into the room and communicated wordlessly and simultaneously the pain, shock and horror of the last 2 days. Had I been wondering what was worse, to be 8,000 miles away and only able to deal with the situation remotely and get snatches of stale information or to experience every moment personally, I immediately knew the answer. I sat next to her on the bed and put my arms around her shoulders. At that moment no words were necessary.
I didn't ask any questions. We both repeated our inability to believe that our son was gone, just that quickly. That we had been robbed by an unknown thief. Violated. Tread upon. At one point Robin began to wonder aloud if there was something, anything she could have done or done differently to prevent this from happening or had she done enough. I tried as best I could to convince her that I knew in my heart she had done everything and anything possible on Geoff's behalf, that there was certainly nobody in that house in Bexley North that was responsible for his death.
After a short while I got up from the bedside and went back out into the front room. Robin followed in just a couple of minutes after that. We sat side by side on the sofa. Luke had in his hand a couple of pamphlets that he kept rolling up like a telescope and then nervously unrolling. He looked at Robin and me as he pressed the small booklets forward and stated "They gave me these pamphlets at the coroner's office. There is some good information in here about what we need to do and help that might be available. It might be a good idea if you looked them over." I took the pamphlets from his hand and set them on the coffee table. "There is a list of funeral homes in there. We need to pick one so we can arrange to have them pick up Geoff when the coroner's office releases him". Luke gently suggested. I asked to nobody in particular if they thought the Catholic Church where Geoff and Melissa had been baptized in Kingsgrove might have a suggestion. "I'll get the number for the office" Luke volunteered.
Mag and Jeanette pulled into the driveway with Candi in the car. Melissa and I went out to the front to greet her, inquired about her trip and tried to fill her in on as much of the information as possible in a couple of minutes knowing that Mag and Jeanette had undoubtedly covered the most significant points. Jeanette suggested that we have some lunch and that she would prepare it, make sandwiches for everyone. And, wondered, would anyone like a drink or tea, perhaps a cup of coffee? This was her way of supporting all of us. For the next few hours we nibbled on the sandwiches Jeanette had prepared with Candi and Mag's help, made small talk, sobbed alone and together, greeted the occasional neighbor or friend that dropped in and allowed a steady stream of florists to deposit endless bouquets of flowers sent by well meaning friends and family. I was struck by how quickly the news traveled and how people reacted in the ways they believed were proper.
At one point Luke advised us that he had spoken to the office manager at Our Lady of Fatima in Kingsgrove and they suggested two funeral homes. They indicated their primary recommendation would be W.N. Bull, located in Newtown. The sound of Newtown rang familiar to me. Having no point of reference or prejudice about it Robin and I agreed we would use W.N. Bull and try to get an appointment for the next day to make yet another journey through a process for which we were not prepared.
Jeanette then took me out in the front yard and suggested she could help locate a place for Candi and me to stay while we were in Sydney. Another detail that I had not considered. Robin's house was full with Melissa and she and Mag. I surprised myself in that I had a conscious enough awareness of the situation to suggest that perhaps a "holiday apartment" might be the better choice as compared to a hotel. That way we could have a kitchen and separate bedrooms and perhaps some other conveniences. There are holiday apartments all over Sydney; typically they are individually owned units that have been placed into rental for short term stays, are fully furnished with linens, cutlery, dishes and some of the other comforts of home. Jeanette was employed by a large trucking firm as an Assistant to a Director who traveled extensively. As a result, she had many contacts in the travel industry and volunteered to line an apartment up for us. She also made sure we knew that we coincidentally arrived during a 2 week school holiday period and we could have some challenges lining up a unit close by but she was sure she could arrange something suitable. She picked up her IPhone and began the search. I went back inside the house and resumed my position on the sofa next to Robin. Perhaps every couple of minutes Robin looked into my eyes and non-verbally communicated her thoughts: Why has this happened? What have I done to deserve this?
It was all so beyond belief. In many ways, it still is.
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