Before I Saw You(57)
The conversation hung around him like thick smog. His head was cloudy with lack of sleep and his body ached with frustration. Alfie concluded that it could be nothing else but an emotional hangover. And what’s the last thing you want to do when you’re hungover? Deal with your parents.
He hadn’t lied last night when he said today would be a tough day, although he knew that his mother would try as hard as she could not to let her pain show through. In fact, he presumed she would go in the opposite direction and be overly energetic and full of joy. She would have also definitely been baking. The small silver lining to his mother’s grief was the copious amounts of baked goods that would always appear. Selfishly and very inappropriately, he found himself praying for brownies.
*
‘Oh wow, Mrs Mack, you’ve got enough there to feed the entire hospital. Are you sure you don’t want any help bringing it in?’
Alfie rolled his eyes at the sound of the nurses greeting his mother that afternoon.
‘No, no, not at all! You’ve got enough on your plate without carrying all this stuff in. I can manage, and if I can’t that’s why I bring Robert along.’ She laughed at her own joke.
Yes, she’s definitely sad today.
‘I’ll make sure to save you some though. I’ve got lemon drizzle, flapjacks and brownies. Knowing my Alfie, there won’t be a crumb of brownie left, but I’ll try and wrestle one off him.’
‘Thank you, Jane. You’re a good woman, and a brave one to go up against that cheeky so-and-so!’
‘Oi! Ladies, stop talking about me, and come and share some of that baked goodness you’re hiding over there,’ Alfie shouted across the ward, with the hope of piquing the interest of Mr Peterson, who remained very quiet and rather lethargic these days.
‘Don’t forget to serve the elderly first, please,’ the old man piped up. His voice sounded strained and was almost cracking. ‘We have to make the most of these pleasures before we snuff it.’
‘No, thank you, Mr P. None of that talk. If anyone is going to live for ever, it will be you; if for nothing else but to continue being my favourite person to annoy!’ Alfie hauled himself up out of bed and saw his mum sneaking a plateful into Mr Peterson’s cubicle. ‘Mother! I’ll have you know he’s on a strict diet. You can’t be feeding a fragile old man that sort of thing.’ Alfie waggled his finger at them both.
‘Fragile? I’ll give you fragile in a minute, son, if you stand in the way of me and this cake!’
Alfie was glad to hear a bit of bite in the old man’s voice. He walked over to his mum, kissed her on the cheek and then held out his arm in readiness.
‘Can I accompany you to my cubicle, Madame?’
She squeezed his arm gently, looping hers through as she handed the cake tin to Robert, who was already balancing five in his hands. ‘Certainly. Lead the way.’
He knew that showing her the progress he’d made in his walking would cheer her up, and so he was vehemently pushing down the pain of using his prosthesis. He wanted to keep her mind distracted and the topic of conversation light. It was important not to leave too many silences or she’d find a way to fill them with memories. Memories were always the start of a slippery slope into despair.
Once they were across the ward and Alfie was settled back in bed, he realized just how many tins his dad was carrying.
‘Mum, how many people are you feeding? How long did it take to bake all of this?’
‘Don’t even ask, Alf. She had to go and use next-door’s oven because we ran out of room. I swear I’ve never seen Tesco sell out of butter as a result of one single person.’
Alfie loved the way his dad moaned about his mother’s foibles while simultaneously looking at her with such unabashed adoration and love.
‘Well, if you don’t want them, I will happily take them back and give them to the ladies at the salon.’
‘Oh, come on now, Mum, let’s not make any rash decisions here.’ Alfie reached across for one of the tins. ‘I’m very grateful for the cake, especially the brownies. Thank you.’
‘Don’t be silly, I know how much you love them. Plus, you know I always like to bake a little something to try and honour today.’ Her face dropped, and his dad immediately reached for her hand and gave it a squeeze.
‘Come on, love, why don’t we see if anyone else wants some of these?’
Before she could reply, Robert was already pulling her to her feet, cake tins in hand, and leading her out on to the ward floor. Just as they were finishing their rounds, Sarah walked in.
‘Oh my God! What the hell is going on, Alfie? Have you hired people to bring better food than me?’
There she was. A small, blonde, bright ball of energy hurtling towards him.
‘Hello, love. I don’t think we’ve met yet. We’re Alfie’s parents, Jane and Robert.’
Sarah ignored the outstretched hand of his mother and went straight in for a hug.
‘I’m Sarah, Alice’s friend. I’m guessing you haven’t delivered the mystery woman any cake yet? Hard to do when she’s stuck behind this bloody curtain.’
‘Oh, well, we were just about to act—’
‘Don’t worry, I’ll take some in for her if that’s OK?’
‘Of course! Take as much as you want.’