The Switch(93)

Dearest Mum, and my darling Leena,

Sorry it’s taken me a little time to compose this message. I’m at Heathrow airport, now, with three hours until my flight and plenty of time to think.

Something Leena told me last night stayed with me when I woke up this morning. Leena, you said, ‘I couldn’t have figured myself out if I’d not been someone else.’

These last few weeks have been some of the happiest in recent memory. I have loved having you back, Leena, more than I can express – it’s been wonderful for me to be able to look after my daughter again. And Mum, I’ve missed you, but I think perhaps I needed you to leave me for a little while, so I could realise I can stand on my own, without you holding my hand. Your absence has made me appreciate you all the more. I’m so grateful for everything you’ve done for me.

But I’m ready for something new, now. I don’t know who I am when I’m not grieving for Carla. I can’t be the woman I was before my daughter died. I couldn’t, and I wouldn’t want to be. So I need to find the new me.

My yoga mat and I are going to Bali. I want quiet, and sand between my toes. I want an adventure, like you’ve each had, but one that’s mine.

Please look after one another while I’m away, and remember that I love you both very much xxx



‘Bali,’ I say, after a long, shocked silence.

Leena looks blankly at the picture on the hall wall and doesn’t answer me.

‘I don’t understand,’ I say, fretfully scrolling to the top of the message again. ‘She’s far too fragile to be going off on her own in some foreign country, and …’

‘She’s not, Grandma,’ Leena says, turning to look at me at last. She breathes out slowly. ‘I should have kept you in the loop more, then you’d realise. She really isn’t fragile. She’s been doing great, this last month or so.’

I can’t quite believe that, but I want to.

‘Honestly, Grandma. I know you think I didn’t see how bad things were for Mum, and …’ She swallows. ‘You’re right, for a long while I didn’t, because I wasn’t here, and that’s on me. I should have listened to you when you said she was struggling instead of just thinking I knew best. But I can tell you that while I have been here I’ve seen her make so much progress. She’s been doing so well.’

‘I don’t … But … Bali?’ I say weakly. ‘On her own?’

Leena smiles and tilts her head towards that picture on the wall. ‘She’s going to her happy place,’ she says.

I stare at the image. It’s a photo of a lady doing yoga in front of some sort of temple. I’ve never really noticed it before, though I vaguely remember it hanging in their old house in Leeds, too.

‘Do you really think it’s a good idea for her to go away all on her own?’

‘I think we should have told her to do it a long time ago.’ Leena steps forward and rubs my arms. ‘This is a good thing, Grandma, just like your time in London and my time in Hamleigh. She needs a change.’

I read the message again. ‘I couldn’t have figured myself out if I’d not been someone else.’

Leena looks embarrassed. ‘I have no recollection of saying that. I was a bit drunk, if I’m honest.’

‘You said something like that, though, when you thought I’d lied about Ethan.’ I hold up her hand to stop her protesting. ‘No, it’s all right, love. It was a shock – you just needed time. But you said you weren’t being his Leena.’

‘Did I?’ She’s looking down at her feet.

‘I want you to be your Leena, love.’ I reach for her hands. ‘You deserve to be with somebody who makes you feel more yourself, not less.’

She starts to cry, then, and my heart twists for her. I wish I could have protected her from this, that there’d been another way.

‘I thought that person was Ethan,’ she says, leaning her forehead on my shoulder. ‘But – this last two months – I’ve felt – everything’s been different.’ Her shoulders shake as she sobs.

‘I know, love.’ I stroke her hair. ‘I think we all got a bit lost this last year, didn’t we, without Carla, and we needed a change to see it.’

Bali, I think, still reeling, as Leena cries in my arms. I’m not quite sure where that is, precisely, but I know it’s a long way away. Marian has never been further afield than the north of France. It’s so …

It’s so brave of her.

There’s a knock at the door. Leena and I both pause. We’re sitting here in Marian’s house with every single light switched on, both blubbering, make up down our faces. Goodness knows what whoever’s at the door will think.

‘I’ll get it,’ I say, wiping my cheeks.

It’s Betsy.

‘Oh, thank goodness,’ she says, reaching to take my hands. ‘I came as soon as I heard Marian was in trouble.’

‘Betsy?’ comes Leena’s voice from behind me. ‘Wait, how … how did you hear?’

I just hold my dearest friend’s hands between my own. She looks wonderful. Her usual neckerchief is nowhere to be seen, and she’s wearing a loose, polka-dotted blouse that makes her look like the Betsy Harris I knew twenty years ago. There’s too much to say, and I falter for a moment, unsure, until she squeezes my hands and says, ‘Oh, I’ve missed you, Eileen Cotton.’