Scar Tissue. Narrelle M Harris

he will help it if he can. He failed to protect Jayden, from either their father or from himself. But if it is humanly possible, he will not let the world scar her at all.

      Clara hears the pair of them squabbling in the hall for a good minute before one of them manages to get the key in the lock. She’d have opened it, but the brothers have a way of fighting that is way too entertaining to miss.

      ‘What part of “don’t jump!” did you miss, you idiot?’ Jayden’s tone is impatient.

      ‘What part of “don’t throw that!” did you miss, blockhead? Oh, that’s right. All of it.’ Lachlan is scathing.

      The key turns in the lock and the door opens with a bang, accompanied by irritated huffing and squelching noises. Jayden turns an apologetic look on his wife.

      ‘Sorry, baby. We had a mishap.’

      ‘Date night is off, I take it?’ She’d been looking forward to a night out – dinner, maybe dancing – while Lachlan took care of Amelia, but to be honest, whatever this is, it looks hilarious.

      ‘Until I wring the Yarra out of my underwear at least.’

      ‘I lost my goddamned phone into the goddamned river,’ Lachlan complains, dripping murky water on the welcome mat. Much good the mat does; there’s quite a lot of water.

      ‘You didn’t have to dive in to save me,’ says Jayden, stifling a laugh. Jayden is dripping a matching pool of scummy river water, off to the left of the mat.

      Lachlan scowls.

      ‘What kind of moron jumps into a river with their phone in in their pocket?’ Jayden smirks.

      ‘The kind of moron who has to move in a hurry because his blockhead fishing partner is about to go arse over tit over the side of the goddamn boat.’

      ‘I was just fine.’

      ‘Yeah, right. Until you fell arse over tit over the side of the goddamn boat.’

      ‘Of course. It’s all my fault now.’ Jayden’s back to not feeling reasonable.

      ‘That we’re both soaked through?’ Lachlan says. ‘Hell, yes.’

      The argument continues while Jayden and Lachlan peel off outer layers and start into the flat, heading for the bathroom.

      Clara wonders at the edge in Lachlan’s voice – Jayden seems to think it all funny but his brother is clearly upset – but the point becomes clear as Lachlan rounds on Jayden with a blistering: ‘I thought you could swim.’

      Jayden’s good humour evaporates. ‘You utter dick. The water was freezing. I cramped. You know that shoulder doesn’t have full mobility.’

      Silence descends so suddenly it’s like the stillness after a crash. The blood drains from Lachlan’s face and he holds his breath.

      ‘Shit,’ says Jayden. ‘Shit, Lachie, I didn’t mean… it’s okay. It was just the shock of the water, you know? I was on my way back up when you grabbed me.’

      Lachlan does this thing, this pursing of his mouth and a glance away down and to the side, and Clara reads the shame in it. She doesn’t know if Jayden has seen it, and Lachlan shifts back to a defiant posture quickly.

      They have reached the bathroom and the brothers stride in, after a tussle at the doorway, and disappear inside. There’s the sound of running water and some crashing about while two grown men fight over who gets first shower.

      There’s a sound from Amelia’s bedroom and she leaves the men to it while she fetches her daughter. She returns to the hall with three- year-old Amelia in her arms. Amelia chews a knuckle, stares at the door.

      ‘Bath time for Daddy and Unca Lachie,’ she observes.

      ‘Yes, baby, Silly Daddy and Silly Lachlan are all muddy.’

      The complaints about the state of Jayden’s clothes, the state of Lachlan’s hair, the oh my god what is this in my pants? Is that a leech? Fuck, well, it looks like one. I don’t care if it’s just vegetable matter, Lachie, this is unacceptable!

      Amelia grins. ‘Puck a leeeeeeech!’ she says.

      ‘Puck it completely,’ Clara agrees.

      More shouting, more complaints, a shower running, stopping, running again, thumping, what seems to be a tussle over the towels, someone crashing into the wash basket and then Jayden apparently collapsing into helpless laughter. A deeper voice joins him, and Clara knows that they’re all right.

      Clara and Amelia make a strategic withdrawal as the door opens and Jayden, a towel around his waist, darts down to the bedroom for clean clothes.

      Lachlan emerges with his hair a wild tangle. He’s wrapped in Clara’s long silk robe, tied tightly at the waist. The right side of the robe bears the motif of a Bird of Paradise plant, stridently orange and pale green against the dark green background.

      Lachlan tugs the robe around more closely and gives Clara a defiant look.

      ‘Oh, be my guest,’ she says, with a grin.

      He rolls his eyes at her, then stops to give Amelia a kiss hello.

      ‘Muddy Unca Lachie needs a clean!’ says Amelia.

      ‘Muddy Lachlan needs a change of clothes,’ he says in reply.

      ‘I like that,’ Amelia points emphatically at the robe. ‘It’s pretty.

      You look pretty.’

      ‘Thank you,’ he says solemnly. ‘You look nice, too.’

      Jayden joins them, dressed in jeans but shirtless, towelling his hair dry.

      ‘Daddy!’

      ‘Baby girl!’

      Father-daughter kisses are exchanged and Jayden scoops his girl up for a hug. He carries her to the sofa and drops down on it. Amelia manages a controlled landing so she ends up standing on his thighs. She pats his face while he kisses her fingers, then pats his chest.

      She becomes fascinated by the scar on his left shoulder. She’s familiar with it of course, but it’s almost like it’s the first time she’s really noticed it. She pats the healthy skin, then the ridge of scar tissue. She traces her fingers over and over the puckered edges of it.

      Clara wonders if she should distract the child, but Jayden is just watching her explore his skin. Clara can see Lachlan watching them too. There’s that shame again, at what he’d done. After their father’s imprisonment, Jayden had thrived and Lachlan, who’d been strong for so long, fell. So far.

      He’d been high – again or still – and Jayden had tried to take care of him, and to get rid of his brother’s stash. In the struggle, Lachlan had shoved Jayden through a plate glass sliding door. He’d nearly died. Lachlan had been beside himself with horror and grief, and had checked himself into rehab as soon as he knew Jayden would survive.

      Four years clean now. Clara is proud of him, of how he’s worked to climb back up again, and be strong again, for himself as well as Jayden. And he dotes on his niece, as though that little girl were his salvation.

      Amelia, meanwhile, prods the marks on her father’s chest, the skin and muscle, then pats at them with her soft, chubby hands.

      ‘Daddy has an ouch,’ she says. It’s the term she’s been using lately.

      ‘A big ouch, yes.’

      Amelia’s eyes are large with curiosity and concern. ‘Does it hurt?’

      ‘Not any more.’

      ‘Are you all better?’

      ‘All better now.’

      ‘It gets stiff some days,’ Lachlan supplies suddenly.