Total pages in book: 166
Estimated words: 160356 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 802(@200wpm)___ 641(@250wpm)___ 535(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 160356 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 802(@200wpm)___ 641(@250wpm)___ 535(@300wpm)
Pocketing my mobile, his message unanswered, I leave my apartment and start the five-mile walk, hands in my pockets, head down.
Unable to face the world.
I have to take a few moments outside before I push my way through the glass doors, as I always do. The heat smacks me in the face, and I make quick work of stripping out of my coat and scarf, draping them over the crook of my arm before signing myself in. The lady behind the reception desk, I forget her name, doesn’t greet me, just nods, before pressing the door release button to let me through. Glittery tinsel and fake snow adorn the corridor, baubles in every colour and size dangling from the ceiling on ribbons. Another gauntlet to run. Taking a deep breath, I walk on fast feet, looking straight ahead to the door at the very end of the corridor.
Another breath before I enter.
The room is dark, the curtains drawn, only a glimmer of the winter sun peeking through a small gap at the edge. I see her silhouette on the bed, hear her light snore. The second the door clicks closed, she stirs, so I hurry over to the lamp and flick it on, letting the soft light illuminate the room so she can see me when she opens her eyes. Then I pull a chair over, draping my coat and scarf over the back, take a seat, and wait.
Her head turns, her eyelids flicker, and the moment she opens her eyes, I know today is a bad day. Her frown confirms it. “It’s Camryn,” I say, watching as she tries to figure out who I am. If she knows me. Most of the time, she doesn’t, is adamant she’s never seen me before in her life. It’s just another layer of pain to the endless pain.
Her grey eyebrows pinch more. “Where’s Noah?”
I swallow, feeling my back pushing into the chair. “He doesn’t visit anymore.” I don’t bother telling her who I am beyond my name. It’s a waste of time and energy and only stresses her out. “Have you eaten?”
“What do you mean, he doesn’t visit anymore? He was here just yesterday.”
“He was?” I say, just as the door opens and a nurse enters.
“Camryn,” she says, smiling mildly as she assesses my mother. “It’s been a few days.”
I smile tightly, not feeling the need to explain myself. “It’s been crazy at work.”
Her hum is borderline condescending.
“Who’s Camryn? I don’t know no Camryn.” Mum starts struggling to sit up, her emaciated arms flailing, every vein visible through her paper-thin skin. “Get out!”
“Now, now, Celeste,” the nurse coos, calm as can be. “This is your daughter.”
“Where’s Noah?” she yells, her voice broken, unrecognisable. “I want to see Noah.”
“Excuse me.” I get up, feeling the walls closing in on me, and make my hasty exit, resting my back against the wall in the corridor, looking up at the ceiling briefly before the endless baubles force my gaze to my boots.
The nurse joins me after a few moments. Her smile is drenched in sympathy I just can’t take. “It’s the Christmas carols service soon. It would be lovely if you could join us.”
“I’m working.”
“But I haven’t told you when it is.”
I push my back away from the wall and pull my coat on as I walk away. “She won’t want me there.”
“She can’t help it, Camryn,” she calls. “You know that.”
“I know that, Deirdre,” I murmur, pulling my phone out of my pocket as I reach the double doors that lead into reception. I hit the button to alert the lady on the desk I need letting out, my eyes scanning the space for her as I make a call.
“Hey,” he says in answer.
“You need to come see Mum.” I hit the button again, getting hotter and hotter.
“I did.”
“When?”
“A few weeks ago.”
“It was the end of October, before you went on a three-week holiday.”
“I’m busy, Cam.”
“So am I.” I see the lady appear behind the reception area, but she doesn’t look this way and disappears again into the office, so I hit the button repeatedly, my breathing becoming laboured.
“You’re the daughter. It’s your job to look after her. I’m paying for that outrageously expensive care home, Cam. I do what I can. You’re local, it’s easier for you.”
“Easy?” I blurt, starting to pound the glass with the side of my fist. “You think it’s easy coming here for her to look at me blankly? For her to ask for—”
“It’s a good distraction for you.”
“Fuck you.”
“God, you’re poisonous.”
I hang up. “Will someone please let me the fuck out of here?”
The door clicks, and I push my way through, rushing across the space and practically falling out onto the street, gasping in the cold air until my lungs scream. It takes a solid ten minutes to calm myself down until my hands aren’t shaking and I can type out a shitty message to my brother.