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)
I sit forward, relishing the rare interaction. “I think I’ve found someone really special, Mum.”
“It’s about time. You need to settle down, buttercup. Have a family. You’re not getting any younger.”
I swallow. “I know. You tell me all the time.” Until about twelve years ago when I met Dominic, got engaged within a year, married the following year, and had Noah the year after that. But that’s okay. She knows who I am.
Even if she doesn’t.
* * *
I have to take a breath when I step outside her room. For the first time in as long as I can remember, it’s not because I’m hurting. Suffocating. Today was a good day. Deirdre follows me out, closing the door lightly so not to wake her. “The carols concert is on Thursday,” she says, casually. “Weather depending, of course.”
I cast her a knowing smile. She knows what she’s doing—catching me on a better day.
“Did you manage to move things around?”
I drop my bags to between my feet and pull on my coat. “I did,” I say, seeing her trying hard not to grin her delight. “You’ll cancel if it’s too bad?”
“No, not cancel. It’ll just be a bit thin on the ground with relatives. I know you’re not shy of a bit of snow.”
I nod, but say no more, slipping my hat and gloves on. “I’ll see you,” I say, collecting up my bags, taking a leisurely walk down the corridor rather than scurrying along as fast as I can. The walls aren’t closing in.
I hear the door click to release as I approach and laugh to myself at the irony. The one day I don’t need to escape, the door is opened before I make it there. I hurry my pace and push my weight into it and nearly fall through it when someone on the other side pulls it open.
I stagger forward a few paces into a man. “Shit, I’m sorry.” I look up. Realise who it is. Step back. “Graham.”
“Good to see you too, sis.”
“Finally found time in your schedule then?”
“I didn’t come here to get earache.” He looks past me through the open door. “Is she with it today?”
“With it?”
“Talking sense?”
“She never talks sense. She’s got Alzheimer’s.”
He looks down at his watch, and I know it’s because he’s mentally calculating how little time he can get away with being here. To be honest, I’m even more surprised than I usually would be that he’s here. The weather is the perfect excuse. “I’m picking up Mindy’s present, and I’m a bit early.”
Right. He’s not gone out of his way. Not made a special trip. Mum’s just fitting into a slot that happens to have cropped up. “I’m going.” I can’t be in my brother’s orbit for longer than a minute without wanting to smash his ignorant face in.
“Hey, Cam,” he calls.
“What?” I don’t look back.
“Sign the papers, yeah?”
I stop, staring forward, trying not to let my simmering blood escalate into a full-blown boil. I did not want to do this with my brother. I truly didn’t want anyone, especially him, to take away my momentary bubble of joy. Although, I do need to know one thing. “Did you know he’s moved on?” I ask, facing him, watching his face. I might not like him, but I know him well, and the sudden thinning of his lips is a massive red flag. It means he’s about to lie. “You knew.”
“You should do the same.”
“Oh yes. Move on. Easy as that. Just forget I was a mum. Just forget my son was run down and killed. My four-year-old son.”
His wince gives me hope that he’s not a complete inconsiderate bastard. His shoulders drop. “I’m not saying forget, Cam. Moving on isn’t forgetting.”
“She’s pregnant.” I spit the words out like they’re stones choking me.
“I know.”
“She’s going to give Dominic a baby, and he’ll love that child like we loved Noah. I can’t do that, Graham. I can’t have more children. I can’t try to fill the void Noah left behind. All I can do is move forward and hope someday the pain becomes bearable.”
“It will. You should see a doctor, Cam. You’re not looking too great.”
“God, you’re a cock.” I walk out and welcome the cold blast of air that cools my temper down. “Ugh.” If brothers got medals for being dumb, mine would get the gold.
My phone ringing is the only thing that stops me from fulfilling my desire to punch my older brother, and the sight of Dec’s name lights up my world as much as it lights up my screen. “Morning.”
“Afternoon.”
I pull my phone away and check. He’s right, which means I spent much more time with Mum than I usually would. That alone is reason to smile, and now Dec’s calling. I’m ignoring the interlude of my brother. “Afternoon,” I say. “Sorry, time ran away with me unpacking a vanload of groceries from Tesco.”