Blink(60)

She must have been referencing her past. I stayed quiet, wondering if she’d elaborate, but she didn’t say anything else.

‘I just – I don’t know. I hate this feeling of not being in control of myself, of what happens.’

‘Yeah, I know what you mean,’ she replied, but I doubted she did.

She didn’t know about the tablets and the gaps in my memory. And I certainly wouldn’t be mentioning that. I didn’t say anything else, letting the whole subject go.

But underneath, something was still niggling at me. Something didn’t feel right.





51





Three Years Earlier





Toni





‘Mrs Cotter? I’m Di Wilson, a nurse at the accident and emergency department at the QMC. Your mother has had a fall at home and has been brought in. She’s asked me to ring you, to let you know.’

‘Oh no.’ I stood up quickly, my free hand flying to my throat. ‘Is she OK? When did this happen?’

Jo looked up from typing up Bryony’s valuation report.

‘It happened at lunchtime,’ Di continued. ‘We think she’s badly bruised her shinbone. It’s painful and nasty and she’s quite shaken, but apart from that, she’s fine. She’ll mend.’

‘Is she at home now?’

‘She’s still here, at A&E.’

When I came off the call, Jo had called Dale and Bryony through from their offices.

‘Are you OK, Toni?’ Dale asked.

I began to garble out the details. ‘Mum’s stuck in A&E right now and there’s nobody to pick Evie up later, I—’

He held up his hand and I stopped talking.

‘Go now,’ he said kindly. ‘I hope your mum’s OK. If you need me to do anything, just shout.’

Bryony walked over to me and placed her hand on my arm.

‘Me too.’ I looked down at her hand, not quite believing she was offering me comfort. ‘I could pick Evie up from school, she knows who I am now.’

‘Thanks so much.’ I grabbed my jacket and coat. ‘I’ll text you, Bryony, once I know what’s happening. Whatever happens, I’ll be in the office tomorrow though, no problems. Thank you.’

‘Don’t worry about it, Toni, we completely understand.’ Bryony smiled and I felt a little shiver run down both my arms.



* * *



By the time I got to the hospital and found a parking space, it was nearly three o’clock. I had to be back at school for four thirty at the latest, to pick Evie up from her after-school session.

I dashed into the grubby unisex loo near the entrance. My throat felt like sandpaper and the beginnings of the mother of all headaches began to gather momentum at the base of my skull.

Before I could think better of it, as I sat on the loo, I unzipped the compartment in my handbag and shook out a single tablet, swallowing it dry. Just the one.

Out in the main area, I gave Mum’s name and the receptionist pointed me to a second patient waiting room, beyond the initial one. I spotted Mum, huddled over in the far corner of the packed, noisy space. She sat close to the wall, her eyes downcast. The domineering, outspoken woman I knew and regularly fought against was absent. She looked smaller, more vulnerable, somehow.

I negotiated my way around the various injured bodies and wheelchairs. Toddlers ran around aimlessly, brandishing the sticky, chipped toys they’d gathered from the chaotic play corner.

‘Toni.’ Mum’s face lit up when she spotted me. ‘You came.’

‘What are you talking about?’ I looked at her pale face. ‘Of course I came.’

‘I just thought . . .’ Mum lowered her eyes. ‘You know, we’d fallen out and—’

‘Don’t be silly.’ I shook my head. ‘I’m always here for you, Mum, you know that.’

Her eyes glistened and she reached for my hand. I felt her fingers quivering slightly in mine. ‘It really shook me up, love, I just don’t know how I could’ve been so stupid.’

‘What happened?’

‘I slipped, on the stairs,’ she said, shaking her head as if she still couldn’t quite believe it. ‘And you know how strict I am about keeping the stairs clear.’

I nodded. The memories were still fresh in my mind of coming in from school. Within seconds, Mum would demand I take my shoes, coat and bag up to my bedroom. She’d always had this obsessive thing about clutter being dangerous if it was left around the bottom of the stairs.

‘I tripped over my shoes, coming down. I couldn’t see a thing because I’ve somehow mislaid my glasses. I still haven’t found them.’

I looked at her. ‘You left your shoes on the stairs?’

In particular, footwear left on the stairs was a lifelong pet hate of Mum’s.

‘That’s just it. I didn’t leave them there. Of course I didn’t,’ she said vehemently. She looked down at her hands and her voice grew quieter. ‘There were two pairs of shoes there, Toni. On different steps.’

‘What?’

‘I can’t remember even wearing them, never mind putting them there.’ She shook her head at the troubling thoughts obviously swirling inside. ‘If I actually did that, I’m scared. I mean, you read about dementia and all that stuff, don’t you? And I am getting on a bit, now.’