Lost for Words

by Andrea Bramhall

  Vanessa smirked widely at her. “You know where I am if you need a shoulder to cry on again. I’m here for you, Jac. Anytime.”

  “Yeah,” Jac’s voice was flat even to her own ears. “Thanks.”

  “No, I’m not doing it.”

  Sasha paused with her had on the doorknob, about to enter Fleur’s room. Bobbi’s voice was strong and adamant, and Sasha wondered what the hell her mother wanted of her now. So she waited…and listened.

  “If you loved me you would.”

  “I do love you, Mrs A. But I can’t do that.”

  “Why not?”

  “Sasha would kill me.”

  “I’m the mother, not Sasha.”

  “Yeah, but right now she’s stronger than you are, and she’d kill me.”

  “I’ll haunt you.”

  Sasha sniggered and put her other hand to her mouth to smother it. What the hell did Fleur want?

  “I don’t believe in ghosts,” Bobbi said, but she didn’t sound anywhere near as confident as she was before.

  “Yes, you do. I’ll haunt you if you don’t do this for me. I’m an old woman, and I’m dying. This is the least you can do for me.”

  Bobbi groaned. “You can’t pull the dying card, Mrs A. That’s a low blow.”

  “Okay, okay. I’ll make it worth your while, then.”

  Sasha frowned but still couldn’t bring herself to open the door and walk in.

  “Keep talking.” Bobbi sounded a lot more interested.

  “I’ll give you the directions to my emergency stash.”

  “Pft. I can get weed anywhere.”

  “Not this much you can’t.”

  “How much are we…no forget it. I’m not a dealer. And if I smoked that much, I’d get sacked.”

  “I’ll throw in my recipe book too.”

  “With that latest recipe in it?”

  “Yup.”

  Bobbi whimpered. “Sasha will kill me when she finds out.”

  “Well, hurry up and get on with it. Then she won’t.”

  “Fine. Don’t move, and I’ll be back as soon as I— Oh, hey, Sasha. Didn’t see you there.” Bobbi grinned as she pulled open the door and stared up at Sasha. Well, sort of.

  Sasha lifted her eyebrows. “What, exactly, am I going to kill you for?”

  “Erm, nothing. Nothing at all. I haven’t done anything.” Bobbi’s smile looked more like a grimace.

  “Yet.” Sasha turned to her mother. “If you’re going to try your hand at bribery and corruption, you should keep your voice down a bit.” She crossed the room and deposited the box of chocolates and magazine she’d been dispatched for on Fleur’s table. “So, spill. What do you want now?”

  “I want to see Nip.”

  Sasha narrowed her eyes in frustration. “Mum, we already asked. They can’t let her in here. There are too many people with lung issues, and the cat dander could make their conditions worse. I’m sorry.”

  “I know. That’s why I wanted Bobbi to bring her to the gardens and then take me out to sit on that bench for a little while.” She pointed out of her window to the memorial bench in the grounds that overlooked the small pond. Her grin turned conspiratorial. “Where there’s a will, there’s a way, dear. Remember that.”

  “Mum, it’s November. It’s cold out there. You need to stay warm—”

  “Staying warm won’t change anything, Sasha. I want to see my poor little kitty. I want to stroke her again. Cuddle her. It’s not a lot to ask, honey.”

  It wasn’t. It really wasn’t. But the simplest of things wore Fleur out. Just going to the bathroom wore her out. The look in Fleur’s eyes, though, told Sasha she would get her way come hell or high water. She was going to see her cat again.

  “Fine.” Sasha turned to Bobbi. “Do you know where the cat carrier is?”

  “In the cupboard under the stairs, right?”

  “Yes. You know she’s going to claw you to bits, right?”

  “There’s a fire gauntlet in the carrier, sweetheart,” Fleur said. “Use that when you get hold of her.”

  “I will.”

  “And make sure you close all the bedroom and living room doors so she can’t hide under the furniture.”

  “Got it.”

  “I used to find that you could lure her in there with a little bit of ham in the back of the carrier,” Sasha said.

  “Got it.” Bobbi nodded like she was adding items to a list. “Bribery, locked doors, gauntlet, then run.”

  “Call me when you’re in the car on your way back.” Sasha pointed at her. “I’ll start helping Mum get ready then and meet you in the gardens.”

  “Will do.” Bobbi started for the door.

  “Don’t forget,” Fleur added, holding up a hand.

  “I won’t forget the other bit, either.” Bobbi pulled open the door and was gone.

  “What other bit?” Sasha asked.

  “You’ll see.”

  “You’ve not asked her to bring you a joint or something, have you?”

  Fleur tapped her nose.

  “Mum, you’ll get kicked out of here.”

  “Oh, pish. The only way I’m going out of here is feet first, and we both know it. Now tell me what’s going on with this film of yours?”

  “Well, if you like, I’ll show you some of it.”

  Fleur rubbed her hands together in excitement as Sasha reached for her laptop case. Jac had given her a DVD of some of the scenes cut together in the order they would play in the final film. It was rough, the edits nowhere near finished, and one or two of the scenes needed to be reshot, but they both knew this would be the only way Fleur would ever see some of Sasha’s work come to fruition. After all Fleur’s meddling to put this into motion…it felt right.

  “Now,” Sasha said around a lump in her throat, “if you tell anyone about what you see here, I’ll have to kill you.”

  Throwing her head back, Fleur laughed as Sasha blinked away her tears. “Perfect, honey. That one was perfect.” Fleur grasped her hand and squeezed as Sasha set the laptop on the table and wheeled it to hover over the bed. Fleur scooted over and patted the space beside her. Sasha climbed on and settled against her mother.

  “Shame we haven’t got any popcorn.”

  “I’ll bring it next time, Mum.” She stretched towards the Play button. “Now, there aren’t any opening credits or anything, and there are more scenes still to film, but the story is mostly here now. It’s just some of the stuff Becca needs to film tomorrow to add to the emotional intensity of the scenes where she’s imprisoned.”

  “Understood. I remember from the script. Now press Play. I want to see what you’ve created, my clever, clever girl.” Fleur kissed the hand she was holding and motioned for Sasha to start it playing. So she did.

  The shot opened with Vanessa bouncing around in a jeep, as she “sped” through the CGI-created desert towards a ramshackle Pakistani village on the edge of the Peshawar Plain. Fleur’s eyes were open wide as she pointed.

  “That’s exactly how I imagined it when I read it.”

  “Me too.” She laced their fingers together and snuggled in beside her, just like she had done as a child when they’d watched Bambi. “Now be quiet and watch my film.”

  She felt the kiss Fleur pressed to the top of her head. “So bossy. Where do you get that from?”

  There were only ten minutes left of the film when Sasha’s phone chimed. It was a text from Bobbi, informing her that she and the holy terror were en route, but traffic was awful. In other words, don’t rush. So Sasha let the clips finish and passed Fleur a tissue when the screen went blank.

  “Amazing. Absolutely amazing. You did that, honey. You.”

  Sasha shook her head. “It took an awful lot of people to do that.”

  “Without you, they wouldn’t have ha
d anything to start with.” Fleur hugged her tight. “I’m so proud of you.”

  “I’m glad you got to see it. Even though it’s not finished yet.”

  “Me too.” She pushed Sasha away from her a little. “Was that Bobbi?”

  “Yep. She’s on her way but traffic’s awful. It’s gonna take her some time. Do you need the bathroom?”

  Fleur shook her head. “I thought I told you earlier.”

  “Told me what?”

  “They put in a catheter last night.” She tapped the edge of the bed, and Sasha leaned over to see the collection bag.

  “Nice. Something else to drag around with you.”

  “Indeed. But it’s a little more comfortable than those terrible grampers pads,” she said referring to the awful, thick incontinence pads that were the alternative. “They made my arse look huge. And I’ve got standards to maintain.”

  Sasha decided to let that one go. “Fine, I’ll go and find a wheelchair, then. Back in a few.”

  Before she could get off the bed, Fleur had hold of her hand again. She turned to face her.

  “I am so proud of you, baby girl.”

  Sasha fought the tears. “I know, Mum.”

  “I love you.”

  “I love you too,” Sasha whispered, her lip trembling. She wasn’t sure how much longer she could keep her tears at bay.

  “Thank you.”

  “What for?”

  “For being my daughter.”

  “Shouldn’t I be thanking you for that? For making me who I am. For being my mother?”

  “No, honey. We’ve made a good team over the years, and we’ve had a lot of fun. And for that, I’m truly grateful. Many women have daughters. But how many women are best friends with theirs too? I look at you and know without a shred of doubt that I played a hand in shaping a truly wonderful, beautiful, generous, kind, and loving woman. One that I am more than proud to call mine.” She wiped the tears on Sasha’s cheeks. “I know you’re angry and hurting, and you will feel pain, but remember I love you more than life itself. You’re my baby girl, and I will always, always be here for you.” She wiped more tears away. Sasha couldn’t make them stop. “Even after I’m gone, I’ll still be here for you.” She put one bony hand over Sasha’s heart. “Remember that, okay?”

  All Sasha could do was nod. She couldn’t speak. There were no words left for her to say. And even if there had been, she had no voice left with which to speak them. Fleur put her hands on Sasha cheeks, tugged her down and placed a kiss on her forehead.

  “Now go and find me a chair. I want one with flames down the sides and spikes on the wheels, like a Roman gladiator chariot.”

  Sasha chuckled as she wiped her face with a tissue and climbed off the bed. “I’ll see what I can do.” Then she scurried out of the door. She needed a moment to try to collect herself. To find herself again in the sea of emotion that threatened to engulf her, to wash over her, and drown her again and again and again. Relentlessly tossed upon the waves of loss, horror, anguish, despair, pain, and the gut-wrenching, soul-twisting laughter of the gallows humour Fleur doled out.

  She leant heavily against the wall, bent at the waist, and sobbed, casting aside the anchors and stays that had held her fast for the past few days. She allowed herself to feel the true depth of all she was losing. Fleur. Her mum.

  How do you stay strong in the midst of that? How do you stay afloat and not drown? How do you—

  “Hey, babe, what’s happened?” Jac’s hands on her shoulders lifted her until she was standing. Wrapped in her strong embrace, she let herself slowly come back to reality. She let the questions go and absorbed the scent and warmth of the future. The spicy aroma of sandalwood, musk, and citrus. The heat of Jac’s body. The solid feel of her arms, anchoring her back to the real world. Sheltering her from the crashing waves and keeping her afloat when despair tried to pull her down.

  “Is she—”

  “She’s okay. Needs a wheelchair. Wants to go into the gardens.”

  “But it’s dark out there. It’s freezing.”

  Sasha took a deep breath and managed to get herself together enough to make herself speak. “She wants to see Nip. She bribed Bobbi into going to get her in the cat carrier. Obviously, Nip isn’t allowed in here, so she wants to go outside to see her.”

  Jac nodded.

  “Well, we needed to go and get Nip and bring her back to the apartment. She shouldn’t be alone at your mum’s house. We can just take her home with us tonight.”

  “You want to take mum’s cat back to your place?”

  “Well, you’re hardly ever at home and you sleep at my place most nights. It…well, it makes sense, right? Nip’s probably missing your mum too.”

  “You’d really do that?”

  “Of course. She’s part of the family.”

  Tears welled in Sasha’s eyes again and she waved a hand in front of her face. “You’ll make me cry again.”

  Jac held her tight again, then pointed to the bathroom door. “Why don’t you go and tidy yourself up a bit, and I’ll go and find your mum a wheelchair?”

  “Thanks.” She moved out of Jac’s arms. “She wants one that looks like a cross between a Roman chariot and greased lightning.”

  Jac’s eyebrows rose. “She does, huh?”

  “Yup.”

  “Oh, damn.” Jac patted her pockets. “Looks like I left my crayons in my other clothes.”

  Sasha sniggered.

  “I’ll try and get one that goes in straight lines and doesn’t have a wonky wheel.”

  “Perfect.” Sasha kissed her cheek and stepped into the bathroom. She pointed at the mirror. “That’s not quite so perfect.” She ran cold water and splashed it over her face, dabbed the back of her neck, and hung her face over the sink, letting water drip from her nose, chin, and eyebrows. She counted the drops, trying to let her mind go blank. To let the overwhelming emotions just drip away.

  By the time she returned to Fleur’s room, Jac had her sitting in the wheelchair, just a regular wheelchair, and wrapped with blankets. She was kneeling at her feet and forcing a second pair of the thick fluffy socks onto Fleur’s foot.

  “I’m telling you, it’s freezing out there. If you don’t wrap up warm you’ll catch your death.”

  Fleur chortled loudly and Jac froze, seeming to realise what she’d said. She looked up, and Fleur’s chuckle deepened and broke into a full-belly laugh. She patted Jac’s flaming cheek.

  “You’ll do, Jac Kensington. You’ll do.”

  Jac frowned and Sasha pushed her way into the room.

  “Ready?” Sasha asked. “Bobbi texted a couple of minutes ago. She’s at the bench, waiting. She doesn’t want to let Nip out before you get there in case she runs off.”

  Patting the arms of her chair, Fleur cried, “Let’s blow this joint!” She clicked her fingers. The sound she made was so small, like she didn’t have the strength to create enough pressure to truly make it. “Driver,” she said to Jac and pointed to the door. “Onwards, Parker.”

  “Yes, milady.” Jac gave her best impression of the put-upon driver from Thunderbirds and wheeled her forwards. “I’ll need directions, milady.”

  At Fleur’s cackle, Sasha grabbed her coat and followed behind them. Bobbi was sitting there, waiting, shivering. Sasha could hear her teeth chattering from ten feet away. Jac pushed Fleur so she was at right angles to the bench and snapped on the brakes.

  “Don’t want you rolling down that hill and into the pond, do we?” Jac asked.

  “Nah, then I really would catch my death, wouldn’t I?” Fleur chuckled again and pulled the hat Jac had stuck on her head lower over her ears. “So where’s my baby, then?” Fleur held her hands out as Bobbi opened the mesh door to the cat carrier. Nip mewled indignantly, clawed at Bobbi for good measure, then sprang across the space to Fleur. She paced
back and forth across her lap, complaining about her mistreatment and abuse all the while. Sasha and Jac sat next to Bobbi on the bench, Sasha closest to her mum, Jac in the middle with her arm about Sasha’s shoulders. Bobbi held up a sleeping bag, Fleur’s old yoga mat, and a couple of blankets.

  “I grabbed these from the house, Sash. I hope you don’t mind.”

  “God, not at all. Good thinking.” They spread the yoga mat across the cold bench, opened the double sleeping bag, and stood in it before sitting down, the three of them giggling at the close quarters to get all of them inside and the bag pulled up to their waists. Then spread the blankets across their shoulders.

  “Well don’t you all look cosy,” Fleur said. Nip had finally settled into her usual position on Fleur’s arm, throwing her minion-of-darkness glare at them all and meowing lazily…perhaps slightly threateningly…as she eyed the cat carrier with disgust. “Bobbi, did you bring the other thing I asked you for?”

  “Yup.”

  “Mum, I told you, no weed. You’re on morphine now.”

  “She didn’t want me to bring any weed.” Bobbi frowned over at Fleur and asked, “Did you?”

  “No. I want my hot chocolate.”

  Bobbi held up a thermos flask and some plastic camping beakers. “That I did bring.” Bobbi poured them all a cup and handed them down the line.

  Inhaling the sweet-smelling steam as it rose out of the cup, Sasha smiled. Then she caught the other aroma. “How much Bailey’s is in this?” She pointed at Jac and Bobbi. “You two have both got to drive tonight.”

  “Erm… One cup won’t put us over the limit.” Bobbi sipped, and her eyes widened a little. “Probably.”

  Jac sniggered and poured a quarter of her cup into Sasha’s and another quarter into Fleur’s. “Just enough to take the chill off.” She tapped her cup to everyone else’s and held it aloft. “To Nip.” They all followed the toast and sipped on their drinks.

  Sasha tipped her head back and stared at the night sky. There was barely a cloud overhead, just the twinkle of stars glittered against the inky blackness of the universe. She reached over with her free hand and interlaced her fingers with her mum’s. Jac’s arm tightened around her shoulders, and for a moment—just a moment—she could forget.