Page 43 of Meet Me in Berlin

She bumps her shoulder against mine. ‘One of the nurses gave me a tip. She said my daughter’s name is just like “hello” and if I can say hello when I see you then I might remember “Holly”. I can’t promise it will always work.’

‘I’ll take it for today.’ I slip my arm around her shoulders and show her the image on my phone. ‘I just took a nice photo of you.’

Her eyebrows rise when she sees it. ‘That’s what I look like when I’m sleeping, is it?’

‘You look beautiful.’

‘Mmm. If you say so.’

I slip my phone into the pocket of my jeans. ‘How are you?’

‘I’m enjoying this sunshine and those birds,’ she says, pointing to a shrub a few metres away. ‘They have a lovely sound. I recognise them but can’t think what they’re called.’

‘I think they’re a type of honeyeater.’

She nods. ‘Honeyeater. Yes, that’s it.’

‘Can I get you anything? A cup of tea?’

She shakes her head and points to a mug on her left. ‘I just had one.’

I’m stalling telling her my news, but the emotion associated with leaving her is building in my throat and it’s hard to get the words out. I take a deep breath. ‘I’ve got something to tell you.’

She twists to face me. ‘You’re having a baby?’

‘What?’ I laugh, and it’s exactly what I needed to loosen me up. ‘No.’

She chuckles.

‘I booked a flight overseas.’

Her brow crinkles. ‘Overseas?’

I nod. ‘Uh-huh. We spoke about it yesterday – when we were at Adam’s for lunch.’

She frowns as she thinks. ‘No, I don’t recall that conversation. I do remember we were all there though, and we played cards, so that’s something, isn’t it?’

‘It is.’

She links her arm in mine. ‘A holiday will be lovely. Where are you going?’

I’m about to say it might be longer than a holiday, but then decide against it. She probably won’t remember, and maybe it’s better this way. ‘To Berlin first.’

‘Berlin. You’ve been there before. When you were at university.’

‘That’s right,’ I say, but don’t let on that we talked about this last week. ‘I’ll go to London too and visit Aunty Carol.’

Her pale eyes spark with recognition at the mention of her younger sister. ‘Oh, lovely. She’ll be so happy to see you.’

‘And I’m going to make good use of this.’ I reach into my bag and pull out my new camera.

‘Ooh, that’s a beauty.’ She takes it from me, inspecting it closely. ‘You were always so good at photography, just like your dad. He gave you your first camera, you know. I can’t think when exactly, but you were young.’

‘It was my tenth birthday,’ I say. ‘It was a little digital one.’ It was the most extravagant present I’d ever received – more than Mum and Dad could afford. ‘You and Dad took us to the botanic gardens that day. We had a picnic, and you named all the birds and trees, and Dad taught me how to use the camera. It was the best birthday I ever had.’

She smiles wistfully. ‘You kids were everything to your father.’

‘You were everything to him, too.’

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