Page 158 of Every Silent Lie
Spend it with us.
Think about it. That’s all I ask.
Could I do that?
I don’t know. I honestly don’t know.
Mum’s sleeping when I arrive, her room dark and quiet. I dump my box in the corner and do my usual tasks before lowering to the chair and sitting in silence with her. She eventually opens her eyes, and before they even find me, I know they’re empty. She turns her head and looks at me. “Hi, Mum,” I say quietly, sensing today isn’t going to be as good as my last visit. “What did you have for breakfast?”
She squints, as if she’s thinking hard about that. “Porridge.”
I shift my chair closer. “Sounds yummy.”
“With honey. And a banana.” She smiles. “That was your favourite when you were a little girl.”
My entire being solidifies. She knows. She knows it’s me. “Yes, it was.”
She lifts her head off the pillow a tiny bit. “That nurse was here again last night.”
“Which nurse?”
“The one who’s been taking my money. She went under my mattress. Ha!” She drops her head back down, and it lands with a soft thud, the effort to keep it up too much. “But I fooled her.”
“How?” I ask, animated, as if truly intrigued.
“I hid it all in my pillow.” She lifts her head again. “Go on,” she whispers. “Get it out and put in in the bank before she finds it.”
I bend over her bed and go along with her, slipping my hand into her pillowcase, faltering when I feel a rustle of something. I frown as I grab a handful and pull it out.
“Quick,” she whispers, while I stare down at the ripped pages out of a book. “Put it in your handbag. There’s more.”
“Okay,” I whisper back, stuffing the worthless, tatty paper into the side pocket of my bag before reaching in and pulling out more. “I think I’ve got it all.”
“Okay. That’s good.” Her head plummets to the pillow again and she whips out two pages from my grasp, setting them aside. “This is for Noah. For that football kit he keeps talking about.”
I hesitate for a second. Just a second. “Okay, Mum.”
Deirdre enters, and she smiles widely at me. “You came for the carols,” she sings, thrilled.
Mum flips me a wink as the nurse washes her hands at the basin, and it brings an instant smile to my face. “Oh, that’s today?” I ask, zipping up the side pocket on my bag and patting it.
“We’re just getting started.” Hands on her hips, she takes Mum in. “Now then, Celeste, are we going to get you in a chair?”
“I’ll help,” I say, getting up as Deirdre pops into the corridor and returns moments later with a huge wheelchair. Or more like an armchair on wheels.
“Where am I going?” Mum asks, looking alarmed.
“It’s Christmas carols, Celeste. We got a choir here just for you.”
“She’s sucking up because she knows I’m onto her,” Mum says out the corner of her mouth as I help her to sit up. She lifts with relative ease, surprising me.
“Let’s play along,” I whisper back. “Can you swing your legs off?”
“I’m not an invalid,” she snaps. “It’s just the flu, I’ll be right as rain soon.”
“I wish you would be,” I say under my breath as Deirdre moves in to help.
“No, thank you.” Mum holds a palm up to stop her coming closer. “This lovely young lady is all the help I need.”
