Lily Alone

by Vivien Brown

  ‘And what does Kerry say?’

  ‘She says she can manage. That everything’s okay.’

  ‘Then it probably is.’

  ‘do you think I should stay here then? I could tell her to close up for a few days, I suppose. The poor kid must be run ragged by herself, no matter what she says. But there’s still the banking to be done, and the suppliers …’

  ‘Mum, do what you think is best. But, if you ask me …’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘That shop is looking more and more like an albatross around your neck.’ Was that even a real saying? He sometimes felt he was turning into his old gran who used to talk in clichés and riddles that, when he was little, hardly meant anything at all. ‘Close it for a while. Take a break. Put yourself first. Give Kerry a break too. What’s the worst that can happen? You lose a few quid in takings, and have to pay her to do nothing for a week or so. It’s not as if you’re broke, is it?’

  Geraldine sat back down. ‘You could be right. And you’ll need the car, won’t you? To get to the hospital.’

  ‘We managed all right on the bus. We can again, if we have to.’

  ‘No. You’re right. I have to stop letting the shop rule my life. I’ll call Kerry.’

  ‘Good.’

  ‘What are you up to there? On that computer? Where did it come from? I thought you said Ruby didn’t have one.’

  ‘Your friend William brought it over. Kind of him, wasn’t it?’

  ‘My friend?’

  ‘Well, you spent time with him yesterday. You looked like you were getting on well enough. Anyway, he’s downstairs at his mother’s now, painting her ceiling. It’s just a cheap laptop, but he said I could borrow it. He also got me one of these dongle things on his way over, so I could get onto the internet.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Just things I wanted to look at.’

  ‘Work? You’re as bad as me, Michael. Leave all that emailing stuff for a while. You’re supposed to be on annual leave, aren’t you? After all, as you said to me …’ She tried to imitate his voice, but didn’t quite get it right. ‘What’s the worst that can happen?’

  He laughed. ‘Just give me half an hour, Mum. Why don’t you call Kerry, then take Lily for a walk to the park, or pop down and have a cuppa with Agnes? Then we can all go to the hospital together, okay?’

  She took her time. He could hear her on the phone in the hall, then banging about pouring Lily a drink and rummaging around for a packet of biscuits. She would never dream of turning up for tea, unexpectedly or otherwise, without an offering of some kind in her hand. But, eventually, she was gone.

  Alone at last. He grabbed his mobile, and Patsy picked up hers on the second ring. ‘Patsy? Oh, it’s so good to hear your voice. I’ve missed you! No, there’s no news yet, I’m afraid. Well, not since yesterday. I still have no idea how long I’m going to be here, but I have been looking up some stuff on the net, and I really don’t like what I’m reading. Yes, about head injuries … There’s all sorts of things that can go wrong. Waking up is no guarantee of anything. She’s likely to be confused, disorientated, agitated, angry, have personality changes, memory loss … You name it and it could happen. She might even have some kind of lasting brain damage. No, I know, the internet is a dangerous thing, tell me about it. But I can’t just shy away from this stuff any more.’

  He took a pause and waited for her to speak. Waited for some kind of reassurance, some declaration of undying love and support.

  ‘Michael, I don’t know what to say.’ Her voice sounded dull, clipped. ‘Or what you expect me to say. But a “How are you?” might have been nice.’

  *

  Fiona bit into her sandwich and wiped at the trickle of mayonnaise that had somehow squirted out and found its way to her chin. The weather was colder today, and sitting outside was not an appealing option, so they’d found a corner of the canteen – or cafeteria as the hospital preferred to call it – as far away from the patients as possible. A persistent pigeon hovered on the tiny window ledge outside, hoping for scraps.

  Gina toyed with her teaspoon, clinking it rhythmically against the side of her cup, and yawned into her other hand, while Laura rubbed the skin of her apple so vigorously against her uniform sleeve that she was in danger of breaking through to the flesh.

  ‘Want to talk about it?’ Gina said, clearly recognising the signs.

  ‘Nothing to say really. Just a few things on my mind. You know, the usual. A patient who came damn close to topping herself, but refused to say why. The light at the end of the tunnel for poor Ruby at last and … Oh, yes. The chaplain asked me out.’

  ‘What?’ Both the other girls were suddenly sitting up straight and bouncing in their seats.

  ‘When did this happen?’ Fiona spluttered, bits of crumb launching themselves across the table. ‘How? Where?’

  ‘You’ll be asking me why next! It was yesterday, actually. In the little cupboard he laughingly calls his office. Just after he kissed me. Or was it just before? It’s all a bit of a blur, to tell you the truth.’

  ‘Kissed you? You dark horse! You didn’t say a word about it last night when you came home.’ Gina grabbed Laura’s arm, sending the apple flying. ‘You did say yes, didn’t you? Oh, please, tell me you said yes.’

  ‘I said yes.’

  ‘Well, thank God for that! Or maybe that’s what he said? Your chaplain. In one of his little chats with the almighty!’

  ‘He’s not my chaplain. And, honestly, he does not talk about God all the time. Or to God either, for that matter. He’s surprisingly normal, underneath the obvious.’

  ‘Oh, yes? Went that far, did you?’

  ‘Gina, stop it. I meant that he likes ordinary things, just like other blokes. Beer, for instance, and music, and motorbikes.’

  ‘And sex?’ Fiona chipped in.

  ‘I really wouldn’t know.’

  ‘Oh, come on. We need facts. Juicy facts. You can be so boring sometimes! Just make sure we’re the first to know when you find out.’

  ‘So speaks the dating expert! At least mine will turn up.’

  ‘Hurtful, Laura. Not nice!’ Fiona feigned indignation.

  ‘Now, now, girls. What are friends for, after all, if not to share in each other’s downs just as much as the ups?’ said Gina, ever the peacemaker. ‘And if you can’t fix it, then laugh about it, that’s what I say.’

  So they did.

  *

  William put his paintbrush down on a sheet of newspaper. It was surprisingly hard work, painting a ceiling, even a small one, what with all that stretching up above his head, and it didn’t take much to give him an excuse to stop.

  ‘You know, I’ll miss Geraldine when she’s gone.’ Agnes had just seen Geraldine out and had come wandering into the kitchen again, supposedly to make more tea, but he was sure she only did it to keep an eye on what he was doing. As if he was a little boy again and she had to make sure he didn’t splash his poster paints on the floor or get mucky fingerprints on the door handles.

  ‘She’s been a bit of company for you, that’s for sure.’ He ran his hands under the tap, went and found the biscuit tin, which the two women had left lying open in the other room, and sat down with it at the table. There was still paint under his nails but he didn’t suppose it would do much harm if he swallowed the odd drop. It hardly seemed worth a thorough scrub when he’d be back up the stepladder in a few minutes getting covered in another lot.

  ‘So have you, these last few days. Been company, that is. It’s nice having you around, Son. I haven’t seen so much of you in a long time.’ She turned her back and busied herself with the kettle. ‘But, no, it’s more than that, with Geraldine. She’s a nice woman. A very nice woman. Not just a passing stranger, but someone I think I could get to call a friend. And, at my age, with one funeral following another, I don’t have too many of those left any more.’

  ‘Shame she lives in Brighton then. I don’t suppose we’ll see much of her once this business is all
over.’

  ‘Oh, I don’t know about that, William. I can’t imagine her being parted from her little granddaughter for long, not now they’ve been reunited. They’re off to the hospital together now, in fact. She and that son of hers, taking Lily to see her mother. It all makes me feel quite … Well, sad, in a way.’

  ‘What does?’ He dipped his hand into the tin, rummaged beneath what was left of Geraldine’s digestives and found a broken custard cream at the bottom. They always had been his favourites. No good for keeping himself in trim, probably, with all that gooey creamy stuff sandwiched in the middle, but the broken ones didn’t really count, did they?

  ‘Everything being so quiet again, once she’s gone. I’m not looking forward to that. It’s sad how easily relationships seem to break down these days. I mean, up until the last two days, she hadn’t seen that little one in ages. Then there’s the father, going off like that, for months on end, with some other woman, and now waltzing back in as if he’s never been gone. Why can’t families just stay together any more? Your father and I would never have dreamed of running off anywhere, leaving you – leaving each other …’

  ‘Is this relationships rant of yours another dig about me and Susan? I did try to make it work. You know I did.’

  ‘No, no. I can’t pretend to be sorry about that. Only … Well, I am sorry that you didn’t find the right woman early enough, when you were younger, settle down and be happy, have children.’

  ‘Too late for all that now, Mum.’

  ‘For children, maybe. But not the settling down part. You can find love at any age, you know.’

  ‘Really? Love, eh? Are you trying to tell me you’re having a fling yourself? Who is it? The milkman?’ He laughed, choking temporarily on his biscuit so she had to lean across and pat him on the back.

  ‘That will teach you to mock. Not that we even have a milkman these days, haven’t seen one in all the time I’ve lived here. But you could do a lot worse, you know. Than to take up with someone like Geraldine, I mean. Nice-looking woman, easy to talk to, has her own business. You’d even get a ready-made grandchild!’

  ‘Mother, honestly! Are you matchmaking?’

  ‘You won’t do anything about it yourself, so someone has to.’ She poured the hot water into mugs, swirled the teabags around for way too long, and added a hefty helping of full-fat milk. ‘You need looking after, and I’m too old and this flat is too small for me to be able to do it any more. I don’t even have the room to do a proper family Christmas dinner. That lovely old table I had. It could seat ten, at a push.’

  ‘Ah, I see. The house move again. You’ve never quite forgiven me for that, have you? Nobody actually twisted your arm, you know, and when were there ever ten of us? You’d have had to invite half the street to fill that table, and this one’s fine for just the two of us. It’s even coped with five this week. At a push, admittedly. Then there was all the waxing and polishing that old table always seemed to need.’

  ‘I wasn’t forced into moving, that’s true, but I was certainly persuaded, and rushed, and against my better judgement. Oh, yes, I accept the old place was getting too much for me to manage, but I think, with hindsight, you – okay we – didn’t take enough time to consider the other options, and this flat, it just isn’t right for me, not really. I don’t feel at home here. I don’t feel settled as if it’s my “forever home”, as they say on the property programmes. Okay, I know it’s near the shops and the buses, and you’re not too far away if I need you, but I’m just not a city girl at heart.’

  ‘Girl?’ He smiled, raising his eyebrows at her.

  ‘Yes, go on, rub it in, why don’t you? I’m no spring chicken any more, but that’s even more reason why the years I have left should be good ones, spent where I want to be and where I feel at home.’

  ‘Which is where, exactly?’

  ‘I haven’t quite decided. But I do know it’s not here. And, yes, it might be nice to have more than just the two of us around the table. To be able to entertain sometimes. Geraldine and her little family have shown me that. I like having company. I miss it. I even enjoyed doing that heap of ironing. I haven’t had anybody but myself to iron for in a long while. I’m lonely here, William, and I want to do something about it. Don’t interrupt.’ She put up her hand to stop him. ‘So, while I’ve still got the value of this place and money in the bank, and a mind of my own that’s still, thankfully, in working order, it’s not too late to change things, is it?’

  ‘Well, I suppose not. Just let me know when you’ve decided, won’t you?’

  ‘Oh, I certainly will, William. You can be sure of that. Loud and clear. From now on, I fully intend to speak my mind.’

  As if there was ever a time when you didn’t, William thought, but he knew better than to say it out loud. Still, she had a point about Geraldine. She was a nice woman, and it was about time he found himself one of those.

  *

  ‘She’s doing really well.’ It was the young nurse again, Laura, the one who had befriended Ruby while she’d been asleep, if that was even possible. She was just leaving the ward, squirting the gel onto her hands, as they arrived.

  ‘What does that mean, exactly?’ Geraldine was looking anxiously along the gleaming white corridor, as if every step she took along it, every step nearer to Ruby’s room, was going to bring her closer to something she just didn’t want to confront. ‘Is she properly awake? Will she know us? Is this all going to be too much for Lily to cope with?’

  Laura placed her newly scrubbed hand on Geraldine’s arm. ‘It’s okay,’ she said. ‘I’ve just been getting to know her properly myself. She’s groggy, still a bit sleepy, but I got a smile out of her! Just give her time to recover. Everything’s looking very promising. There’s nothing to be scared of, really. No nasty machinery now, no wires or blood or anything.’ She bent down towards Lily and patted her head. ‘And you’ll be fine, won’t you, little one? You’re going to see Mummy again, and that will make Mummy so happy.’

  Michael thanked her, watched her open the door and walk away. ‘Ready, Mum?’

  Geraldine nodded, held tightly on to Lily’s hand and, after they’d checked in with Cora at the desk, followed her son into Ruby’s room.

  Her eyes were closed but she wasn’t asleep. There was a shaft of light filtering in through a gap in the half-closed blinds, shining right across the bedclothes in a straight line, like a laser beam. From somewhere outside a bird was calling loudly and they could hear the rustle of the trees below the window, moving in the wind.

  Ruby tried to lift her head off the pillow as they came towards her, opening her eyes and making a strange croaky sound that was somewhere between a laugh and a cough as soon as she saw her daughter.

  ‘Mummy!’ There was no stopping Lily. She tugged her hand away from Geraldine’s and launched herself onto the bed, flinging her arms out in front of her, her little legs flaying out behind, as she landed in a star shape, her face instantly buried in Ruby’s neck.

  ‘Lily.’ Ruby winced. Her voice was small and weak, but she managed to lift her arms, despite the cracked ribs, and wrap them around her daughter, the small warm body pressed against her, their faces so close it was as if they were breathing each other in.

  ‘You didn’t come home, Mummy. Archie and me, we were on our own. And we didn’t have anything to eat.’ Lily was choking back tears and clinging to Ruby like she would never let her go.

  ‘I know. I know. And I am so sorry.’ Ruby was stroking her daughter’s hair and hugging her close. ‘Mummy loves you so much, and she is never going to leave you again.’

  ‘Ruby …’ Geraldine approached very slowly, not sure of the response she was going to get.

  ‘Geraldine?’ Ruby looked up, gazing into her face, puzzled for a moment.

  ‘Hello, Ruby love. I’ve been so worried about you.’

  ‘Have you?’ Ruby’s voice was muffled, coming from behind Lily’s hair.

  Geraldine couldn’t be sure if Ruby was crying
. She was struggling, and mostly failing, to hold her own tears back, no matter how hard she was trying to be strong for Lily’s sake. It was just so awful, seeing Ruby like this, all damaged and alone.

  ‘Mind Mummy’s head now, Lily. And her poorly leg.’ Michael laid his hand on the back of Lily’s head and stroked it. ‘Ruby, how did this happen? What were you thinking, leaving our daughter like that?’

  ‘Leaving our daughter? No, you did that. Not me. Remember?’ She closed her eyes again. She looked exhausted. ‘If you hadn’t done that …’

  ‘You’re saying it’s my fault? Good God, it was you who did this to her, not me! You can’t just go out and leave a two-year-old to fend for herself. Something terrible could have happened to her. It damn nearly did.’

  ‘Michael.’ Geraldine’s voice was steely. ‘This is not the time, nor the place. Now, if you can’t be in this room without starting another row, then I think you should wait outside, don’t you? Ruby is not ready for this. And Lily certainly isn’t. They say only two visitors at a time anyway, so I suggest you go and take a walk to clear your head. Lily – and Ruby – will be fine with me for a while. Bring us back a coffee, why don’t you, and something cold for Lily. Twenty minutes, okay?’

  He made a fuss, but he went anyway. Probably glad of the excuse, Geraldine thought, waiting until the door had closed silently behind him. He wasn’t good with hospitals, and being with Ruby always brought out the worst in him. Too much alike, those two, that was the trouble, both rushing into things without thinking them through properly first.

  ‘Geri …’ Ruby hadn’t called her that in a long time. ‘Thank you.’

  ‘What for? Kicking my angry son out of the room? He will calm down, you know.’

  ‘Is he right though? Did I do it? What he says?’ She lay back down, worn out, her grip loosening around Lily’s shoulders. ‘I can’t think. It’s just a muddle, a big mess. And all I can remember is the rain. It was only for a few minutes. Not long. I don’t like her to get wet. Lily. My Lily. She’s still so little. So little …’ Then Ruby drifted back into sleep.