Just Between Us (57 page)

Stella wondered if she was doing the right thing by phoning Rose. She didn’t want to distress Hugh in his state, but
she knew that her mother would never forgive her for leaving her out of this crisis.

Rose had spent the morning in the Albertine Residential Home, helping make beds. In fact there was a lot more to it than that, but making beds was what she was officially supposed to be doing.

‘That’s how we describe what our volunteers do to the health board,’ explained Matron Jessica Arthur, who ran the home. ‘If they thought we had people doing any more than that, they might cut some of our staffing allowance and we’d never cope.’

Rose didn’t know how the home coped as it was. In the Marigold unit, which was where she was working, there were fourteen people in need of twenty-four-hour care and staffing problems meant there were often less than four nursing staff on hand. Freddie had her name down for helping out when her ankle was better, but the doctor had said she needed a few more days off it and she’d be fine, so Rose stepped in to help until Freddie was ready.

Which was how Rose came to be helping feed Violet, a tiny, frail old lady who was nearly blind and lived in a world of her own due to several strokes. Violet was ninety and when she was well, had taught piano and been an ardent grower of orchids. Now, she sat day by day in a cosy chair specially made for frail people, with a soft sheepskin rug underneath to keep her bones from hurting. A soft-as-rabbitfur mohair blanket in pale lilac covered her because, as the ward sister, Ellen, had explained to Rose, ‘Violet adores lilacs and pinks.’ That was what Rose loved about The Albertine. In some homes, she felt that Violet’s love of lilac and pink would be forgotten because keeping the blankets clean wasn’t easy and it wasn’t as if Violet could even see the pretty colours properly. But in The Albertine, dignity and love were of the utmost importance. Violet liked her blankets and she would have them.

While Rose gently spooned yoghurt into Violet’s mouth,
the rest of the staff were free to rush around doing their jobs, averting danger when eighty-three-year-old Gwen nearly walked into the door because her eyesight, even with thick glasses, was bad, dancing a bit with Mike, to the Glenn Miller music that was today’s easy listening, and patiently escorting people to one of the unit’s three bathrooms.

‘Ooh, In The Mood,’ said Ellen cheerily. She linked her arm through Mike’s and he shone a toothless grin at her. ‘Will we dance?’ asked Ellen.

Mike didn’t remember who he was or even who his only son was when he visited, but Mike loved Glenn Miller and was always ready to waltz.

‘Well done,’ Ellen added as the pair of them shuffled past Rose and she saw that Violet had taken nearly all the yoghurt. ‘I think that you and Violet have definitely made friends for life, isn’t that right, Violet, pet?’

The patients in the Marigold unit were all suffering from various forms of neural disability, from stroke damage and dementia to brain injuries. They weren’t the easiest patients in the home to care for and, as Matron explained, it took a very special person to do so. But Rose loved working there. On her three mornings a week, she felt taken out of herself. This was what she should have been doing all her life: caring for others. Not sitting through endless committee meetings and discussing how many raffle tickets she could sell. No, this was what she was good at. Really helping people.

After her morning in The Albertine, Rose drove through Castletown and stopped outside Murphy’s Grocery to pick up something for dinner that night. Murphy’s sold everything from food to beach balls and during the summer months, was jammed with children queuing for ice creams, while sun-kissed holidaymakers who’d been sunbathing on the beach ambled slowly round the shop, their bare legs dusty with sand from the beach. At this time of year, there was always a fine layer of sand on the floor in Murphy’s, Freddie said. Carrying her basket, Rose passed two little girls standing in front of the children’s sunglasses and trying
to make the vital decision as to whether sparkly silver or more girlie pink glasses looked better. They couldn’t have been much more than eight or nine and they kept trying the glasses on, giggling at each other and then giggling even more when they saw their reflections.

They reminded Rose of Amelia and for a moment, she felt a pang of loss. During the summer, Amelia often spent weeks in Kinvarra with Hugh and Rose, and they had such wonderful times, going on adventures: taking trips to McDonald’s; making Hugh go up in the roller coaster by himself when the funfair came to town, with Rose and Amelia on the ground waving up at him. Biting back the sudden rush of tears, Rose wriggled past a gaggle of customers deliberating over the sun creams. She threw a French stick into the basket, added some local Castletown cheddar, a jar of pickled onions from the organic farm down the road, and then picked tomatoes, lettuce, cucumber and peppers for a salad. It was nearly two by the time Rose parked outside Nettle Cottage and hoisted her shopping from the boot.

Mildred, Prinny and Pig ran out, panting, with Freddie following, still limping.

‘Where’s your crutch?’ demanded Rose as she walked up the path with the dogs excitedly investigating the thrilling smells coming from her shopping bags. ‘I’m shattered,’ Rose went on. ‘I had a marvellous morning but, wow, it’s hard work…’ She broke off because Freddie was looking at her strangely. A sort of working-out-how-to-break-bad-news strangely, Rose realised instantly. Her body began to shake and she had to put the bags down on the path.

‘Come inside,’ said Freddie, picking them up.

‘No.’ Rose stood still. ‘I won’t, not until you tell me. Is it the girls or Amelia? Tell me for God’s sake, Freddie!’

‘It’s Hugh. He’s had a heart attack. Stella phoned me this morning just after you’d left. She didn’t want you to hear it over the phone and I felt the same, which was why I didn’t phone the nursing home.’

‘A heart attack.’ Rose knew her face was as blank as her
mind. ‘But how…And how is he? He’s not dead, is he? You’re not trying to break it to me gently, are you?’

‘No, I’m not. He’s alive but he’s in Kinvarra Regional Hospital and Stella and Holly are there with him. Tara’s on her way. Come on,’ Freddie urged. ‘Come inside and sit down. You’ve had a shock.’

Rose let Freddie lead her inside and she sat in front of the fireplace. She felt limp, drained, as if her life force had been sucked out and all that was left was a shell. The click of the kettle told her that Freddie was coming to the rescue with hot, sweet tea.

‘When did it happen?’

‘Last night.’

That was an even bigger shock. ‘Yesterday? But why didn’t they tell me sooner?’

Rose simply could not understand this. She and Freddie had been in all the previous evening because the poker classic, Freddie’s absolute favourite form of evening entertainment, had been cancelled.

The dogs, sensing that Rose was upset, ranged themselves around her as comforters. She reached out and petted Prinny’s soft head while Freddie silently continued with her tea preparations.

‘Freddie, why didn’t they tell me sooner?’ asked Rose again before the answer popped into her head. ‘Hugh didn’t want me to know, did he?’

Freddie put the tea tray on the low table with a bang.

‘I know you don’t like sugar usually but when you’ve had a shock…’

‘Freddie, tell me,’ warned Rose.

‘He didn’t want you to know. He didn’t want Stella, Tara or Holly to know for that matter,’ Freddie announced. ‘But Angela Devon wouldn’t listen to him and phoned Stella.’

‘And not me,’ said Rose quietly.

‘Perhaps she thought that the girls should talk their father round on that one,’ Freddie replied sensibly.

Rose took a sip of the tea and shuddered. It was too sweet
to drink. Rushing into her room, she found her mobile phone and turned it on. Quickly she dialled Stella’s and then Holly’s phones, but neither was switched on. Then she rang Tara.

‘Oh, Mum,’ said Tara tearfully. ‘I’m driving down to Kinvarra now. Stella couldn’t get hold of me until a little while ago. Poor Dad, I don’t know how he is or anything…’

‘Hush,’ comforted Rose, ‘Don’t worry, darling, it’s going to be fine. They’re wonderful in Kinvarra hospital, they’ll look after your Dad. You know he’s as strong as an ox.’

‘But he’s not,’ sobbed Tara. ‘He’s got so thin and he won’t eat or anything. Stella said he’d lost loads of weight and he’s just given up. I can’t take any more, Mum. I can’t take it. Not after Finn.’

‘What about Finn?’ asked Rose in horror.

‘He left me,’ sobbed Tara.

Rose closed her eyes and said a quick prayer for the safety of her family. This was her fault. She should have been looking after them and then none of this would have happened.

‘Tara, love, it will be all right. Your Dad’s going to be fine, he’s a fighter, you know. I’ll be there as soon as I can and I’ll cheer him up. And as for Finn, he loves you, darling. He’ll come back.’

‘He won’t, he’s been gone for ages, I haven’t heard from him,’ Tara continued.

Rose felt as if she’d missed about ten episodes of a television series and was having trouble catching up. ‘Don’t worry,’ she repeated. ‘It will be all right.’

Tara snuffled goodbye and then Rose began to pack at high speed.

‘Give Hugh my love,’ said Freddie, hobbling into Rose’s bedroom to help.

Rose nodded. She didn’t want to think about love or she might cry.

‘Give him your love too, Rose,’ Freddie added. ‘That’s what you both need.’

Rose didn’t know how she made the journey from Castletown to Kinvarra. She drove on automatic pilot, some unconscious part of her mind telling her which route to take and which bits of the road to be careful on. She wanted to drive like the wind, breaking the speed limit to reach Hugh before it was too late, but the sensible Rose knew she couldn’t do that. It was bad enough that one of the Miller parents was in hospital.

As she drove, she tried to get her mind round the idea of healthy, robust Hugh in hospital. He’d never been sick in his life. Flu, bronchitis, tiredness: they were things that affected other people, but not Hugh. He was vital, with this life force thrusting through his veins.

‘Good blood,’ he used to joke and Rose had felt irritated because she felt he was implying that his wealthy, privileged background made him hardier than her dirt-poor peasant family. How stupid she’d been. He hadn’t meant that at all. He was just proud, in that typically masculine way, that he was never ill. There had been no slur intended on Rose and her family.

Dammit it, she didn’t care about the speed limit. She had to get there. If she got stopped by the police, she’d tell them she was racing to see her husband because he’d had a heart attack and she loved him and had to be with him. She loved him, she really did. Rose put her foot down on the accelerator. Please, please let her not be too late. She’d never forgive herself if she was.

‘Stel, it’s Glenn for you.’ Holly called up the stairs and Stella rushed into her parents’ room to pick up the extension.

‘Glenn, hello.’

‘I’m so sorry to hear about your Dad,’ said Glenn.

‘Thanks,’ said Stella, bursting into tears.

‘I didn’t mean to upset you,’ said Glenn awkwardly. ‘I only wanted to phone and say I’d got your message and ask did you want me to fly Amelia home early.’

‘Yes,’ sobbed Stella.

When she’d finished talking to Glenn, she went into Holly’s old bedroom and found her sister lying fully dressed on the bed.

‘I don’t feel like sleeping,’ Holly sighed. ‘I wish I could, I’m wrecked.’

‘I keep crying and I don’t know why,’ sobbed Stella.

‘Stella, Dad’s in hospital, Mum’s ripped apart with guilt for having left us all in our hour of need, why wouldn’t you cry?’

Holly pulled Stella close and petted her the way she petted Amelia, stroking her sister’s head and murmuring soothing noises. ‘It’ll be all right, darling, you know it will.’

‘It’s ridiculous.
I’m
supposed to be the oldest and the one who doesn’t cry.’ Stella sobbed into Holly’s shoulder and was surprised to find the shoulder suddenly vibrate with laughter.

‘You’re hilarious, you know,’ laughed Holly. ‘Being the oldest doesn’t mean anything, well, apart from the fact that you were the only one of us to get new school coats!’

Despite her tears, Stella giggled. ‘Sorry about that.’ As the oldest Miller girl, she’d had two new maroon coats over the years in Cardinal School, while Holly and Tara got them handed down.

‘Have you been speaking to Nick yet?’

Stella began to cry even more loudly. ‘It’s not working out,’ she said. ‘I haven’t seen him for over a week and I think it’s over. I’m a mess.’

The sisters sat on the bed for a while, with Holly saying nothing, just stroking her sister’s hair.

‘You can work it out, you know,’ Holly said finally, when the worst of Stella’s sobs seemed to be over. ‘Look at what happened with me and Tom. If we’d both said what we’d thought from the start, we’d have saved ourselves a lot of pain.’

Stella squeezed Holly’s hand tightly. She’d been so happy to hear that Holly and Tom had worked things out. Her sister deserved the best.

‘You love him, you can work around the problems,’ Holly insisted.

Stella wiped her eyes. ‘The positive part of me believes that, but I don’t feel very positive right now.’

‘Stella Miller,’ said Holly sternly. ‘You’ve never been a quitter. Get back with Nick and I know you can make it work. Jenna will come round, she just needs to get to know you first. You’re the kindest, warmest, most wonderful person I know and I’m proud as hell of you. So have faith in that.’

Stella managed a teary smile. ‘Thank you. Why don’t you try and get some sleep. I’ll phone Nick and see what happens.’

She felt ridiculously tearful on the phone to Nick and had to stop herself from blurting out that she wished he was with her.

‘Your dad’s going to be fine,’ Nick comforted her when he’d heard about Hugh’s heart attack. ‘He’s strong and healthy, you’ve got to believe that.’

‘I know.’ Stella reached for a tissue. ‘That’s what Holly says but it’s just so frightening to see him lying there, hooked up to machines and everything. He looked frail and old in the hospital bed, I never thought of my father like that.’