Page 154 of Love ad Lib
At Bath Spa,Henry and Libby took a taxi straight to the Dower House. Connor met them at the door and pulled them in for a hug.
‘What’s going on?’ Henry asked.
His brother frowned. ‘She won’t let me check her vitals, and Marie won’t share them with me. She looks terrible to be honest, but unless she talks to me or lets the doctor tell us what’s going on, I can’t make any kind of accurate assessment.’
‘How’s everyone else?’
‘A mess. Dad’s the worst, of course. He’s up there now with Mammy and Mom. I’d better take you straight up.’
Libby held back as Connor and Henry started towards the stairs.
Connor turned. ‘And you, Libby. She wants you there too.’
‘Why?’ she whispered.
He shrugged. ‘You’re family.’
Henry reached out his hand and she took it. He squeezed to reassure her, then followed Connor up the stairs.
Gram-Gram’s room was large,but the light was dim. The chintz curtains had been pulled across the windows, allowing only a sliver of sunshine to enter. Arthur, Vivienne and Dervla rushed to embrace them.
‘My dear girl,’ cried Arthur, kissing Libby’s forehead. His face was puffy and his eyes red-rimmed.
‘Is that Henry?’ a tremulous voice sounded from the bed.
‘Yes, Gram-Gram,’ said Connor.
‘And Libby?’
‘I’m here too,’ she replied.
‘Come here, child,’ Gram-Gram said, her voice wavering.
Libby swallowed her anxiety and followed Henry to the bed. He sat on the edge and took his grandmother’s hand.
‘I’m here, Gram-Gram,’ he said softly. ‘How are you feeling?’
Her face was papery white, her features sunken. Her hair, which Libby had only ever seen immaculately coiffed, was now a grey squall around her head. She was unrecognisable from the imperious dragon Libby had met a few weeks before. Gram-Gram’s free hand crept across the quilt towards hers as she stood by the bedside, then clasped it with surprising force.
‘You’re here,’ Gram-Gram whispered.
‘Yes,’ Henry replied. ‘We’re both here.’
‘Good,’ she exhaled, her eyes closing.
Everyone else in the room took a sharp intake of breath.
‘Gram-Gram?’
Her eyes flickered open. ‘I’m dying.’
‘No, you’re not,’ Henry replied. ‘You’ll be up and about again soon enough.’
She slowly shook her head. ‘I don’t have much time left.’
‘What do you mean?’ Arthur cried. ‘What’s wrong with you?’
She ignored him, her rheumy eyes fixed on Libby and Henry.
