I stayed at Richard’s bedside for another hour or so. Talking to him quietly while he slept. I told him all about Michael and Rose. Told him how Neil and I had met. About how I’d hurt him recently and wished I hadn’t. I told Richard that he had to get better. Had to come home soon. He had a daughter to think about now. I needed him. Ernie needed him.
Every now an again he opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling. Rasped a few noises from his dry mouth and closed his eyes again. His eyelids looked so pale I wondered if he could see through them. His tanned and weathered face now looked worn out. As though the life he had pushed away for so long had finally caught up with him.
Although the nurses told me I could come and go as I pleased, I was conscious of overstaying my welcome. I had no idea how much or how often Ernie needed feeding. I didn’t know if he drank water or milk. But I had promised Richard that I would look after him, so that was the next thing on my list.
Being in Plymouth made me want to call Janice Ward and see her straight away. But I had to set my priorities. And of course Richard, at least for the moment, was my main priority.
I spoke to the doctor before leaving Richard, but he said it was too early to know what the future held. My father was stable. He seemed to be responding well to treatment. But it was likely to be a long journey. He was probably going to be in hospital at least for the next week. I asked them to ring me on my mobile if there was any change in him.
In the cab to his house I tried to work out a timetable of my own. I couldn’t stay in St Germans for that long. But I didn’t relish the thought of coming down and travelling back again in one day either. I considered whether I should take Ernie home with me. But if Richard made a fast recovery and came home, he would want him there for company. Perhaps a neighbour could look after the cat for a few days. Just popping in to feed it and let it out into the garden — or whatever it was you did with cats.
The house was stuffy. I immediately opened as many windows as I could. Breathed shallow little breaths to avoid taking in the stale air. Not breathing more fully until I could feel the fresh air circulating around downstairs. For the first time, I realised I had never been upstairs in his house. Not that there was any reason why I should have. But now I wanted to. I put my hand on the banister and slowly climbed the stairs. At the top I noticed a loft hatch directly above the landing. I thought of my mother. I daresay there might be a photo of her up in the attic.
The decor upstairs appeared to be no different to the style downstairs. Hardly any furniture. Clear wooden floorboards. Clean lines and no ornaments. The only difference was a single photograph in a frame. Ernie.
I counted three bedrooms. One had been laid out as a study and the other was obviously the spare room. Clean and sparse like everything else. I opened a few more windows and went back downstairs, walking underneath the loft hatch as I went.
Ernie made a point of coming up to me and rubbing himself against my legs. He had never even come close to me before, so I took this as a sign of hunger rather than affection. I found food for him and decided on water rather than milk. I also found his litter tray. I left that for later.
One of the keys on the bunch the nurse had given me opened a back door onto a small patio and garden area. I left it open for the cat to go out when he had finished eating. I wasn’t even sure if he needed to go out, bearing in mind the litter tray, but it seemed like the right thing to do. I wouldn’t want to be cooped up indoors all day long, even if I could use the toilets.
I rang Neil at work and told him how Richard was.
‘They think he’s going to be in for at least a week,’ I said.
‘So what are you going to do?’
‘I don’t know. I’ll probably stay down here tonight. Maybe tomorrow as well, if that’s OK. But I’ve got the assessment on Friday. I’ll have to come back for that.’
‘Can’t you tell them to change it. They’ll understand, I’m sure. Even if they shift it by a few days.’
‘I’m not sure,’ I said. ‘I feel like it might go against me or something if I can’t make it. Like a black mark against me.’
‘I can ring them and explain,’ Neil said. ‘Of course they’ll understand. They’ll surely just rearrange it.’
‘Let me see how I feel tomorrow,’ I said. ‘And I’ll see how he is at the hospital. He might surprise us all and come out sooner. Even today he was sitting up and making conversation. Sort of.’
‘Will you ring later to speak to the kids?’
‘Of course.’
Ernie’s collar tapped against the side of the water bowl as he drank. The metal clink echoed around the house. A secret feeling spun inside my tummy. I was alone in a house that wasn’t mine. If I were a child I’d be nosing around the place. Opening cupboards, sliding out drawers, looking under beds. Just exploring the whole house. Going to places and doing things I would never dream of doing as an adult in someone else’s home. But it’s OK as a child. You can do that then. You can look in that cupboard. You can slide out the drawers. You can go in the attic.
The cat’s collar had stopped clinking. I looked out of the window into the back garden. Ernie was stalking through a small bush. I couldn’t see anything worth stalking, but obviously he was after something. My heart skipped a beat when I realised he could possibly jump over the wall surrounding the back garden. The sound of traffic rumbled from the other side and I remembered Richard saying that Ernie had a tendency to try and escape out of open windows. Escape to where? Just the back garden? Or onto the road as well?
I ran into the garden and tried to coax him back in, calling his name and clicking my tongue. When the coaxing failed I resorted to herding. Running towards him with my arms wide apart. Hissing at him. Using fear and aggression to get him to comply. Which eventually he did.
I searched through Richard’s kitchen cupboards noticing what food he had in. I checked the fridge and freezer too. If he was going to be in hospital for a week, there were some things in the fridge that needed eating soon. It made sense for me to eat what was there and replace it when he was ready to come out. I made myself a coffee and grabbed a couple of slices of toast.
I should have probably put the television on, to stop me from thinking. But I didn’t. I kicked my shoes off and put my feet up on the sofa. It wouldn’t be right to take advantage. Wouldn’t be right to go somewhere I shouldn’t. Not up in the attic.
But what if he didn’t come out of hospital? What if the worst happened? Then I would have to go up there. Have to search through his kept history. Have to hunt for a photograph of my mother. I was his next of kin. He had no one else — apart from Emily. I wondered if there might be a photograph of her. My older sister. Would she look like me? Did we both look like our mother? Our mad mother.
But Richard would come out. He would get better. I had told him to. Told him he had no choice. He had to come out. And that settled it. I wouldn’t go into attic. Not without his permission. Not without permission given when he was well. Not under duress, with tubes and wires attached to him. But when he was clear thinking and happy. I would wait. I had gone this long without even knowing I had another mother, so a few weeks more, if that was what it took, would not do any harm. I itched my eyes. They felt sore and heavy. I hadn’t slept properly since we had received the phone call from the hospital. I had been unable to sleep on the train down. And now I let them close. Just for a few minutes. Just to rest them. They were so tired. So itchy. Just a couple of minutes.
I woke up with a start and sat straight up. My mind raced as I tried to work out where I was. My heart thumped from the sudden exertion of waking up and from not knowing what was going on. It was so dark. So quiet. A shadow flitted across my face, brushing me with a breeze as it passed. I jolted and screamed. The shadow scattered away, claws metalling on the wooden floor. Ernie. A flood of memory rushed in and my pounding heart settled. I shivered. And I desperately needed the loo.
I stood up and peered into the darkness. I palmed the wall to find the
light switch. Sleeping had not improved the quality of the coffee and toast taste in my mouth from earlier. I probably needed to clean my teeth as much as I needed the loo. I flicked on all the light switches I could find and made my way upstairs to the bathroom.
Even as I was dealing with my immediate personal hygiene issues, I was thinking about the attic. I thought I had won that argument earlier. I thought I had told myself that the right thing to do was to ignore it and wait until Richard returned, or became well enough to give his permission. I obviously thought wrong. Because now, apparently, I was thinking what’s the harm? It’s only a rummage around in an attic. I had already hunted around his kitchen cupboards for food. What was the difference? It was just another room and another search.
But you needed food to survive. You didn’t need to search through someone’s personal keepsakes for that. It was different.
But how personal were they? I was his daughter. She was my mother. I had as much right to see a picture of her as he had. More, in fact. I was related to her by blood. I had her damaged blood flowing through my veins. He didn’t. He was only married to her. Just a certificate and some vows. Nothing as deep as blood.
But it was taking advantage. I wouldn’t do it if he weren’t in hospital. It wouldn’t have even come into my head. How would I feel if someone came searching through my life when I wasn’t there? Without my permission. How would I feel?
He might die. He might not come out at all. Then I would have to go through everything he had. Permission wouldn’t even come into it.
I spat out the last of the toothpaste frothing around my mouth and walked downstairs, wiping my mouth on my sleeve. Ernie had squeezed himself under a small table in the corner of the living-room. I picked up my handbag from the floor and dug out my mobile. Dialled home.
Rose answered.
‘Mum?’ she said.
She sounded breathless. As though she had run to get the phone. I knew she hadn’t by how quickly she had answered it. I wondered how long she had been sitting with it in her hand waiting for my call.
‘How are you, Rosie Lee?’ I said. ‘You sound lovely.’
‘I’m OK,’ she said. ‘How’s Richard?’
‘He’s very poorly, darling. He may be in hospital for a week or so.’
She said nothing but I could still hear her restless breathing.
‘But he’s in the best place,’ I said. ‘They’re looking after him very well.’
‘He will get better, won’t he?’
I swallowed. I wanted to tell her that he might not. That he might just die in hospital. I didn’t want to keep things from her. The truth was never anything to be scared of.
‘We all hope so,’ I said. ‘But heart attacks are very serious things. A lot of people don’t survive them at all. It just shows how strong he is. And I’ll be coming down here as much as I can to look after him.’
‘Can we come down too?’ she said.
‘I’m sure he’d love to see you when he’s feeling better. But too much excitement at the moment wouldn’t be good for him. He spoke to me earlier. Asked about you and Michael.’
I was surprised at how easily this lie left me when I had been so intent just a few moments earlier on telling her the truth about how ill he was.
She huffed. She told me about her day, then told me that Michael was being annoying.
‘That’s what brothers are for,’ I said.
I spoke to Michael too. He told me about a new game he wanted for his console, and could I look out for it down in Plymouth.
‘I am a bit busy Michael,’ I said. ‘But if I come across it I’ll see what I can do.’
Neil sounded tired. He had had just as little sleep the night before as I had.
‘I’ll probably be asleep a few minutes after the kids,’ he said.
‘Thank you,’ I said. ‘For everything.’
As long as I concentrated on other things, I wasn’t bothered by the possibility of finding a photo of my mother in the attic.
I made myself a ham sandwich and a coffee and switched on the large television on the living-room wall. Before I sat down I rang the hospital.
‘He’s asleep at the moment. It’s probably best that he gets plenty of rest tonight. Perhaps you could come in the morning?’
The smell of the ham reminded me of home. Making sandwiches for a day out, Michael and Rose hanging around looking for bits to nibble. It was just what I needed.
Without realising, I had zoned out from the telly. Feet up on the sofa, feeling like a naughty child again. Ready to explore and play in a house that wasn’t mine. I flicked the television off and swung my feet to the floor. Ernie looked at me. I stuck two fingers up at him.
I think I had known all along that I would go up there. No matter what I said to myself, no matter what the rights and wrongs were, I had to at least look. I owed it to myself. I deserved to know.
I wanted to see my mother.
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