Page 30 of When You're Gone

‘I don’t think Sketch is like Pa,’ I say.

‘Clever men are dangerous, Annie. You and I know that better than most. And Sketch lied so effortlessly to your father just now…’

‘He lied to protect me, Ma.’

‘A lie is a lie, Annie.’

‘Oh, Ma. I know you worry. But I’ll be careful, I promise. I’ll be careful.’

My mother’s grip tightens around my wrist and tears gather in the corner of her eyes. ‘I won’t always be here to protect you, Annie love. There may be a day when your father goes too far, and well, you’ll be alone then.’

ELEVEN

HOLLY

Ben sits on the edge of Nana’s bed, and I’m slouched in the bedside chair. My eyes are heavy, and I can barely keep them open. Ben has been reading for almost an hour, and he finally puts the manuscript down to catch his breath.

‘Christ, Nana,’ he says, choking back emotion. ‘I had no idea your father was such a… a—’ He cuts himself off midsentence and drops his face into his hands.

‘A bastard,’ Nana croaks, opening a single eye and half smiling as if calling her father names fills her with satisfaction.

‘I was going to say monster, but your description is better.’ Ben chances a sheepish laugh.

Silence falls over us quickly, and between long, heavy blinks, I watch Ben sit beside my grandmother and stroke the back of her hand softly. Nana’s rosy lips are twisted subtly up in the corners, and she hums as she breathes deeply. I know she’s replaying the words we just read. I know she’s savouring the memory of Sketch. It’s wonderful to see her so full of nostalgia and peace.

I feel a hand squeeze my shoulder gently, and I look up to see my mother leaning over me, smiling. She’s carrying a cup of steaming coffee in each hand. She passes one to me and offers the other to Ben.

‘I thought you could use a pick-me-up,’ she says.

‘Thanks, Mam.’ Ben nods, putting the cup straight to his lips.

‘Thanks,’ I sigh, staring into the cup.

I can’t drink any more coffee. Even the smell is making me sick. I had two cups earlier, and they sat on my stomach like lead until I threw up in the downstairs toilet an hour ago. Thankfully, no one noticed.

‘How is she?’ Mam asks, daring to get closer.

‘She drifts in and out,’ Ben says.

My mother shakes her head and takes a step back, almost tripping over my ankles. She can’t seem to bring herself to get too close. She’s too scared.

‘The nurse should be here in twenty minutes or so,’ Mam explains. ‘Nana needs more meds then.’

‘Do you want to sit with us for a while?’ I ask. ‘We’re going to take a little break from reading while Nana naps.’

I stand and offer my mother my seat. She sits and hunches forward with her elbows on her knees and her face in her hands.

‘We’ll give you a moment,’ Ben says, his voice crackling like static. ‘Come on, Hols.’

My mother doesn’t answer or look up, but I can hear a deep bass-like noise vibrate inside her, and I know that’s the sound of her heart breaking. Nate made that same sound a couple of weeks ago. I didn’t recognise it then, but I do now.

Ben and I take it in turns to potter in and out of Nana’s room. We’re keeping an eye on Mam as much as Nana. My mother stays statue-like for ages, but every now and then, I hear her talking to Nana. And every so often, she ducks out onto the landing to wipe her eyes, catch her breath, before heading back in.

I’m locked in the downstairs loo when Marcy arrives early. She heads straight into the kitchen and chats with my father for a couple of minutes. I bump into her in the hall as I come out of the bathroom, just as she hangs her coat and scarf on the newel post at the bottom of the stairs.

‘Rough day?’ Marcy says, looking at me knowingly.

‘Nana had some breathing trouble earlier,’ I confess, running my hand over the top of my hair. ‘She’s doing much better now. We read some more this afternoon. She enjoyed that.’

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