I shake off my apprehension and hurry to the gates as I call for a cab, flinching when a crack of thunder sounds above. I make it to the road and search for a café or something to take shelter in until my taxi arrives. I don’t find a café.
I find something else.
My slowing heart kick-starts again, and I move quickly down the pavement, sure I’m not seeing things. I make it to the corner, just catching sight of my sister pushing my mother across the zebra crossing, back toward the care home.
My instinct to run after them nearly gets the better of me, the urge to see Mum’s face overwhelming. Pippa is pushing her away from me. I can’t see her. I need to see her. I quickly check the road and run across when the traffic clears, trying to get ahead of them, albeit at a safe distance. When they reach another road, my sister turns Mum’s wheelchair toward me.
And I stagger back in shock. ‘Oh my God,’ I whisper, taking in the frail lady in the chair. Layers of blankets cover her legs, and a fleece hat is pulled down low on her head. But no matter how wrapped up she is, protected from the elements, I can see with frightening clearness how grey she looks. How lifeless. How weak and completely hollow. I’m shocked by the obvious drastic deterioration in just a week. The woman before me used to be the epitome of life. She used to sing as she painted. Her eyes used to shine constantly. Her hugs were full of love and her words always full of encouragement.
My sister walks around the wheelchair and pulls in Mum’s coat, rearranging the blankets around her legs. She continues to stare blankly forward, seeming oblivious to everything around her. I bring my hand to my mouth to hold back the quiet, devastated sob, and just then my mum’s empty gaze moves, looking across the road in my very direction. Our eyes meet, and the sob that I was containing escapes. ‘Mum,’ I murmur, my voice broken and full to the brim with grief. She just stares at me, keeping me frozen on the spot. But her beautiful face remains expressionless. There’s nothing in her eyes. She’s there. But not there.
My sister’s hands still on Mum’s fleece hat mid-fix, and she turns, looking across the road to me, too. I quickly move back into a doorway out of sight, my heart in my throat. I’m shaking uncontrollably. Did I move fast enough? Did my sister see me? I step forward and peek around the wall. Pippa is looking down the street, her frown heavy. Then she returns to Mum, who is now back to staring forward, and cups her face, leaning in and kissing her cheek before she gets back behind the chair and pushes on.
I fall against the wall on a strangled gasp, my breathing all over the place. I should go now. I should get in my cab and leave. I’ve already taken too much of a risk. I feel utterly deplete. Drained of energy and hope. Today I won’t be leaving Grange feeling my usual sadness whenever I steal these moments. Today I’ll leave with only fear.
Fear that next Saturday when I come, Mum won’t be here. And though I know it is plain cruel for her to live like this – the strong, vivacious, bold woman long gone, being replaced with an old lady I don’t recognize anymore – I can’t help but wish I could have these private times for a little longer.
I step out of the doorway with tears streaming down my cheeks, looking back as I go, trying to stop myself from mentally saying goodbye.Chapter 23RYAN
I study Hannah walking down the street, her anguish palpable. Every minute I’ve watched her since she left Hampton, I’ve felt like an impostor. I almost made my presence known a number of times. I wanted to go to her, to cuddle her when she so clearly needed it. Seeing her looking so utterly broken killed me over and over.
From the corner where I’m standing, I look back, seeing the woman pushing the wheelchair has reached the end of the road. I wait to see which way she turns before I return my eyes to Hannah. I have to know who those women are, but I have to make sure Hannah is safely in a taxi first.
A cab pulls up and Hannah gets in, and I wait until she’s gone before I jog back to my truck. I follow the road to the end and make a right, my eyes scanning the street. I spot the women up ahead and pull into a parking space, turning the engine off and jumping out to follow them on foot.