Chrissy turned to face her, jug in hand. ‘Is there what? Is there anything you can do to help? Is that what you were about to say?’
Issy nodded.
‘Actually.’ Chrissy put down the jug. ‘There is. You could visit him. Twenty years he worked for your family, and not one visit after his accident.’
‘Oh!’ Issy swallowed. ‘Okay, sure, let’s arrange that.’
‘Now, I mean.’ Chrissy took her handbag from a cupboard behind the counter. ‘I want you to visit him now.’
Issy wound through unfamiliar streets on the west side of town, following Chrissy’s battered Honda, until they reached Barton Drive. She’d never been over this side of Hartwell before, with its characterless, blond-brick homes on tiny blocks.
Chrissy pulled into a driveway that looked just like all the others. Issy parked her Mercedes on the street in front, wishing she drove something less conspicuous.
At the front door, Chrissy fumbled with a set of keys as Issy scanned her mind for small-talk topics and came up blank. It was a relief when Chrissy eventually opened the door and stepped inside. Halfway down the hall, she stopped and raised a hand, telling Issy to wait there, then slipped into a dark room.
‘Robbie?’ Chrissy whispered. ‘There’s someone here to see you.’
Issy pictured the man she’d seen in the photos, awaiting his reply, but instead there was a moan, a mumbled voice.
She felt an intense urge to leave. She’d been expecting something else. She’d pictured Georgie’s father propped up comfortably in one of those hospital beds with a remote control to move up and down, watching Netflix in a room with sunlight streaming through a window, not moaning in the dungeon-like space that lay beyond this door. This was something else entirely. She didn’t want to be here. She didn’thaveto be here. She shouldn’t have come.
She glanced down the hall towards the front door. If she was quick, she could be gone before Chrissy came out.
She was almost at the front door when Chrissy emerged.
‘Isobel?’ Her voice was like a knife.
Issy swung around, reaching into her bag for her phone. She held it up. ‘Sorry, something just … I need to…’
Chrissy’s eyes bored into her, pinning her down. ‘I told him that you’re here to visit him on behalf of your family.’
‘I just, I don’t know if it’s a good idea—’
‘Isobel,’ Chrissy said. ‘Don’t do this to him.’
Issy took a deep breath and blew it out loudly. The tension in her chest eased just a little.
She stepped into the room, blinking as her eyes adjusted to the darkness. The only light was a soft glow around the edge of the heavy blackout curtains. Robbie lay on a single bed under a dark sheet. A fan whirred quietly overhead. He propped himself up on his elbow as Chrissy rearranged the pillows so that he was sitting more upright.
He reached out a hand, wincing at the movement. ‘Robbie Baxter,’ he said, his voice weak. ‘Pleased to meet you.’ His cold, smooth hand squeezed hers weakly. The playful sparkle in his eyes she’d noticed in the photo was gone. Now they were flat, lifeless. His lined face had a sunken look. He’d aged twenty years since that picture was taken. It was hard to believe it was the same man.
‘Hi Robbie, I’m Isobel,’ she said.
‘Thank you for coming. It means a lot to me.’ He took a deep breath, as though the effort of talking was too much. ‘I worked for your family for twenty-two years.’
‘Yes, such a long time,’ she said, scrambling for something else to say.
Chrissy picked up a chair and put it by the bed. ‘Have a seat.’
Isobel took a backwards step. ‘Oh, no, I’m fine, I can’t stay.’ She turned back to Robbie. ‘I’m sorry about your accident.’
‘Can’t win ’em all, can I?’ Robbie gave her an ironic wink, as though he knew there was no chance of that.
‘I guess not.’ Issy felt a pang in her heart. This hardworking man was a husband, a father. He didn’t deserve this. Emotion rose in her throat and she felt like she might cry. Flustered, she looked at her watch. ‘I’m sorry, I do have to go.’
She turned to Chrissy. ‘Thanks for bringing me and—’ she paused, knowing she shouldn’t say the words that were about to come out of her mouth, but unable to stop herself ‘—let me know if there’s anything I can do.’
Chrissy glared at her, then followed her out the bedroom door into the hall. ‘Don’t pretend to care about us,’ she muttered through clenched teeth when they reached the front door. ‘Now get out of my house.’
