Page 184 of Every Silent Lie
“I know, what a champ, eh?” I reach up on my tippy-toes and land a kiss on Dec’s cheek before ruffling Albi’s mop of hair as I pass him. “I’ll be back soon to help prep dinner.” I hurry up the stairs, as April comes down them.
“We have to talk or it’s bad luck,” she blurts, stopping halfway down as I climb the steps.
“Are you superstitious?” I ask, amused.
“Terribly. Blaine walked over three drains on Monday, and my car broke down the next day.”
I laugh. “I’m just going to see my mum.”
“Is Dec taking you?”
“No, I’m going to walk.”
“Walk? But Dec said the care home she’s in is near Paddington. Are you mad?”
“It’s not that far, honestly.”
“Let Blaine take you.”
I place my hand on her arm. “I’d like to walk.”
Understanding gets her, and she nods, lips straight, and says no more about it. “See you soon.”
I take the stairs and flick on the shower, letting it warm up as I brush my teeth seeing as well as feeling how tight my skin is. All that crying. I shower, washing my hair too, and when I’m drying off, I walk back into Dec’s bedroom and find a hairdryer on the bed. April. I appreciate her so much. Not just for the hairdryer.
I moisturise and blast my hair dry, dress quickly, and grab my phone, hurrying downstairs and pulling my coat off the stand.
“Wait,” Dec says, coming down the hallway.
“What?”
He takes my coat from my hands and holds it up for me to get it on, then turns me, ties the belt, and pulls the lapels upright so they’re shielding my face. He bunches them with his fists and uses them as leverage to pull me close. “I love you,” he says quietly, looking me dead in the eyes. “I’d come with you happily, if you need me there.”
And I know he would because he’s a good man. I nod and push my mouth onto his. “Thank you. Back soon.”
* * *
The streets are empty. It’s as good as a phenomenon, as if I’m walking in a world where only I exist. The overnight snow has settled and remains undisturbed by tires or feet, making me feel a little guilty for spoiling the even perfection as I leave boot prints in my wake. It’s truly beautiful, the rising sun casting a rainbow of colours across the white canvas. I need this. A walk, some quiet, not to dwell, but to be grateful. I’m so bloody grateful. And yet, that doesn’t mean I can’t be sad too. I accept that now.
When I’m just half a mile away, my phone rings in my pocket, and it takes me a stupid amount of time to get my glove off and my hand inside to pull it out. My pace slows when I see the care home number on my screen.
And my heart drops.
“Hello?”
“Camryn,” Deirdre says, and just by the tone of her voice I know. I just know. “I hate to make this call, especially today.”
“Has she gone?” I ask.
“Five minutes ago. I went in to wake her. She looked very peaceful.”
A choked sob escapes, my hand covering my mouth. “I’m nearly there.” My words are broken. Hardly audible. “I’m on my way to see her.” My feet go from a walk to a jog, to a run. “Please, don’t let them take her yet,” I beg. “I’m ten minutes away.” I hang up and run, my legs heavy as I wade through the snow to get there as fast as I can.
The tears falling as fast as I’m running.
* * *
Deirdre’s waiting in the reception area when I get there. I’m out of breath, and yet I could run for another hundred miles if I needed to. She looks at me with unbearable sympathy and pulls the door open to let me past reception. “They’ve not taken her yet, have they?” I ask, my panic obvious as I run down the corridor to her room at the end.
