Page 71 of Birds of a Feather

I had spent the morning with Alannah doing a site visit of the area where the possum bridge was being installed. Usually, I wouldn’t dream of using my phone while on a site visit, but Nick and I had been exchanging messages all morning and I was powerless to resist the urge to read and respond to them immediately.

Part of me was infuriated at myself; I was carrying on like a lovesick puppy with someone I had only just met. The other part of me had never felt more hopeful at a chance of a relationship with someone, even if he did live on the opposite side of the world.

‘Mum mobile’ flashed across the illuminated display.

I rejected the call and pushed the ‘send message’ option.

I’m on site for work. I’ll give you a buzz from the car in an hour or so.

I had received a photo from Gran and Gerry at Woodside Ridge earlier, which I would reply to at the same time.

I returned my phone to my back pocket where it sat for less than a second before it rang again. ‘Mum mobile’ it announced again.

It wasn’t unusual for my family to lack respect for my boundaries. When I was a kid, them knocking on my bedroom door was part of the process of opening it, rather than a request for permission to enter. And they frequently turned up unannounced to my house with little regard for whether I was busy or didn’t fancy company.

But something in the pit of my stomach implored me to answer it.

‘Hi Mum,’ I said warily. ‘Is everything okay?’

Mum sniffed audibly down the phone. ‘It’s Gran, Bethie.’ She inhaled sharply. ‘She died.’

I replayed the words in my head, desperately hoping that I could derive an alternative meaning from what I knew they meant.

I felt my breath quicken. Every cell in my body felt like it was vibrating and the only thing keeping me from disintegrating right there on the spot was the skin that was holding it all together.

‘What happened?’ I managed to ask finally.

‘She was out on a field trip with Gerry,’ Mum replied, now through guttural sobs. ‘And she collapsed. By the time the ambulance got to her, she’d gone. They think it was a stroke.’

I realised I was now sitting on the ground, but didn’t remember lowering myself down. Alannah had arrived by my side and was mouthing ‘Are you okay?’, their brow furrowed with concern.

I wanted to ask Mum a million questions: what was she doing beforehand? Did anyone give her CPR? Had she been carrying heavy equipment? Who was with her when she died? Where was she now? Where was Gerry? Upon reflection, some, which I was no less compelled to ask, seemed absurd: what night does her bin go out? Had anyone thought about cancelling her library card? Who would clean out her fridge?

But all that came out of me was a noise that sounded like a wounded animal.

‘I’m coming now,’ I said finally, suddenly feeling a compulsion to move. Somewhere. Anywhere. ‘I’ll be there soon. Where are you? Where is she? Where should I go?’

‘Come to the house, Bethie. Gerry’s here, and they’ve already taken Mum aw—’ She didn’t even finish the word before she started sobbing again. ‘Oh Bethie, what are we going to do without her?’ Mum wailed between large wet sniffs.

‘I have absolutely no idea,’ I replied, feeling like my heart was actually breaking in my chest.

I lowered my head into my hands and allowed the tears I had been stoically trying to hold to cascade down my face.

‘We’ll see you soon, Bethie. Drive carefully. Is there someone that can bring you?’

I turned to Alannah, who was holding out a crumpled tissue that looked like it may have been used. I took it anyway and dabbed at my face, although it felt a little like trying to mop up a large-scale flood event with a face washer.

‘Yes, Alannah’s with me; we’ll work something out.’

Alannah nodded fervently. ‘Anything you need,’ they whispered, extending their hand to my arm and giving it a gentle squeeze.

‘I’ll be there soon,’ I said and then hung up on what I knew was probably the most significant phone call of my life.

~

As we rounded the corner into my parents’ street, I thanked Alannah for driving me and for their assurances that they would tell Geoff what had happened and see to the handful of urgent work items that needed to be completed over the next couple of days.

I exited the car and walked up the path towards the front door as I had done a million times before. It struck me that so much was the same, but everything was different. I was different now. Before today I was a person who, despite feeling like I didn’t fit in anywhere, had Gran. She knew me. She understood me. She was the one person on the planet who loved me because of the person I was, not in spite of it.

---