Читать книгу Finding Love at Hedgehog Hollow - Jessica Redland - Страница 10

The following morning, I awoke feeling empty, knowing I was a day closer to saying goodbye to James.

From the minute I went downstairs to make a cup of tea, my very presence seemed to irritate Mum.

‘Thanks for putting the washing on yesterday,’ she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm as she sorted through the laundry basket.

'You told me to leave it because you wanted to wash the trousers you were wearing yesterday.’

‘You could have done the lights.’

There was no point responding. It was a classic no-win scenario with which I was all too familiar. If I’d done the light wash, I’d have been told off for ignoring her instructions not to do the washing.

‘Would you like a cup of tea?’ I asked.

‘Do I look like I have time for tea?’

Stay calm. Count to three… ‘Is there anything you’d like me to do?’

‘I’d like you to get out of my kitchen so I can get on with the washing.’

‘Is there anything else I can do to help? Shopping? Cleaning?’

‘If I have to ask you to do it, then it’s not really helping, is it?’

I hated that meaningless phrase. Every time I showed the initiative to do something without being asked, she bit my head off for not doing it to her exacting standards. If I went shopping, I was always accused of buying the wrong brand or the wrong size. If I cleaned, I allegedly missed a bit so she had to do it all again.

I hated letting Mum see that she’d upset me so I showered and dressed then nipped into Whitsborough Bay to print off the photos from Gramps’s party.

Sitting in my car, I flicked through the photos, my heart racing at an image of Chloe and James together. I lightly stroked James’s face and sighed, the loss already stabbing at my heart, then gently placed the photos back in my bag and set off towards Meadowcroft.

There was no answer when I rang the bell so I unlocked the door and let myself in. Gramps had given me a key after Nanna died, saying he spent more time in the garden than the house and would never see me if I relied on him hearing the bell.

I called his name as I stepped into the hall. It was unusually dark and an uneasiness clawed at me when I pushed open the lounge door. Why weren’t the curtains open?

‘Gramps?’ I called.

No answer.

‘Gramps? It’s after eleven. Are you still in bed?’

I tentatively pushed open his bedroom door but he wasn’t there. The curtains were open and the bed was made. I took a few deep breaths to still my racing heart.

‘Gramps? Where are you?’ I stepped back into the hall. Maybe he’d taken advantage of the blue skies and sunshine and gone straight out to the garden.

I pushed open the back bedroom, planning to look out the window, and screamed.

Wearing the same clothes as yesterday, Gramps was positioned against the headboard, opposite the collage of selfies. An invite to his seventy-fifth birthday rested on his knee and a half-eaten piece of birthday cake lay on a plate on the bedside table.

‘Oh, Gramps.’ My lip wobbled and tears pooled in my eyes as I stared at him.

I slowly shuffled towards him and gently closed his eyes. There was no need to check his pulse. I’d seen death many times and he’d obviously joined Nanna last night.

‘Send my love to Nanna,’ I whispered before kissing his cool cheek and removing his glasses. ‘Give her a big hug from me and thank her for letting me keep you for another five years.’

A shuddering sob shook my body and tears dripped down my cheeks. With shaking hands, I removed my phone from my pocket. I wanted Dad but I knew I needed to try Mum first. Gramps was, after all, her father. Mum barely ever answered the phone to me and today was no exception. I tried Dad.

‘Hi Sammie.’

‘Dad? Gramps is dead. I’m at Meadowcroft and he’s dead. Can you tell Mum and Auntie Louise?’ The words tumbled out between sobs.

‘No! Oh, Sammie. Are you okay?’

‘Not really. Can you drive over?’

Losing Gramps was unbearable. I’d never known pain like it. Instead of uniting us in our loss, it drove a further wedge between Mum and me. She was understandably distraught at the loss of her remaining parent but she accused me of not trying to save him. Why hadn’t I called an ambulance sooner? Why hadn’t I attempted CPR? How dare I call myself a nurse? Even when the coroner confirmed that a massive heart attack had taken him the previous evening, there was no reasoning with her.

At work, I couldn’t stop crying. Worried about my emotional state, my manager insisted I take some time off until after the funeral. While that was undoubtedly the right thing for my patients, it wasn’t ideal for me because it gave me too much time to think.

Mum took bereavement leave and made it clear that she hated me being under her feet. I couldn’t say or do anything right. I offered to help organise the funeral or wake but was accused of interfering. I suggested going to Meadowcroft to feed the wildlife and keep on top of the weeding but was accused of trying to make it my home. Dad tried to keep the peace but it only resulted in more arguments so, not wanting to drag Auntie Louise, Uncle Simon and Chloe into our battle, I spent the next week or so between Hannah’s and James’s.

James was brilliant. He let me cry, he let me vent and he had a ready supply of hugs and comforting words. I knew I had to end it but not right then; not when my heart was already broken.

I returned to Whitsborough Bay on the Tuesday, a couple of days before the funeral. Mum had thankfully calmed down, her anger replaced by the silent treatment, which was mildly preferable.

Chloe and I prepared a eulogy which Dad offered to read out on our behalf as we knew we wouldn’t be able to get beyond a few sentences without breaking down. The only way to get Mum’s buy-in was for Chloe to present it as her idea with a few contributions from me rather than the other way round. Not that it really mattered. The important thing was for that wonderful man to be appropriately remembered.

At the funeral service, I huddled close to James but, as I listened to Dad reading out the words that Chloe and I had prepared, all I could think about was my final day with Gramps and his last request. I couldn’t keep putting it off. I’d focus on saying goodbye to Gramps but then I needed to say goodbye to James. Soon.

I hadn’t expected ‘soon’ to be that very evening.