1
Bess’s spirits dropped in much the same way as the post that came through the letterbox did when it fell to the mat. Given it was already late afternoon, she’d assumed that she was in the clear of any more unwelcome correspondence. Unfortunately not.
She picked up the two brown envelopes – nothing good ever came in a brown envelope. Each of them full-named her in brutal typeface. One of them even had the logo of the energy company at the bottom left-hand corner, as if that might entice her to open it sooner. But denial had become her modus operandi. In her job as a critical care paramedic with the Whistlestop River Air Ambulance, she was together, calm and practical in the most tricky of situations. Bess was known at work and around town as a chatterbox, bubbly, the life and soul of the party. But the truth was, she’d got herself into a mess and she wasn’t sure how to find a way out.
Right now, she had no time for anything other than getting herself together and heading for her 4p.m. shift with The Skylarks.
She threw both envelopes on top of the pile of similar correspondence on the table in the hallway. The top one was the credit card statement she’d received yesterday; underneath that was the notice to pay her television licence, and the rest… well, she didn’t want to even think about what they were because she felt like she was drowning.
Could that happen? Could you drown under a sea of paper? Or could you suffocate?
Her thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the door.
Her insides churned again. Was she about to be handed a bill with so many pages, the envelope had been too thick to push through her letterbox?
‘Parcels, love!’ the post lady trilled when she came face to face with Bess. She pointed down to the side of the front door. ‘They’re not from me… I wasn’t going to knock but I got to the end of the path and thought, well, I’d rather know if all my early Christmas packages were sitting outside my front door for anyone to nick.’
‘Thank you!’ Bess called after the post lady’s already retreating back. It was no wonder the woman still wore shorts in the latter part of October given the pace she moved most days and the loads she carried.
Bess bent down to get the first parcel. She’d been in all day so had no idea how she’d missed these arriving. It would’ve been nice if whoever made the deliveries had thumped on the door to give her a heads up – she’d rather be woken or disturbed than have packages go walkabout.
She picked up a heavy parcel and a lighter one, guilt already rearing its ugly head. She set them down in the hallway – no time to rip any of them open now. Inside the first, given its identifying design on the package, would be the Christmas present for her mum: a luxury hamper. She could picture the wicker basketwith leather straps holding the calming, nourishing treats she’d carefully selected. She wanted to spoil her mum in the way she deserved. Bess didn’t feel quite so terrible about that package, the last of her Christmas shopping she’d made sure to do super early. It was the rest of her deliveries that prickled her conscience. Inside the lightest package would be a new dress that had been a quarter of its full price – the company logo was on the front of the postage bag – in the other would be the new toaster, a proper Dualit one this time that would look so much better in the kitchen than the cheap one she’d had since she moved in. Her reasoning had been that it would last for years; it was an investment.
She picked up the last parcel from outside just as her mum started walking up the front path. ‘Mum! Wasn’t expecting you.’ She shunted the remaining deliveries into her hallway, reached for her keys, bag and coat and closed the door all in one swift move.
She almost collided with her mother on the front step.
Taken aback, Fiona Gardner gave her daughter a peculiar look. ‘Aren’t you going to invite me in?’
‘Sorry, Mum. I’ve got to get to work.’
‘You’ve plenty of time yet.’ Fiona checked her watch. ‘Don’t you clock on at 4p.m.? I thought I’d be early enough to say hello, have a bit of a chat.’
While Bess and her mum saw one another regularly, for her to show up unannounced was out of the ordinary. Mostly, she called first, especially if she wanted something – last time, it had been to ask to borrow Bess’s lawnmower; the time before that was when she needed Bess to take her black cat, Liquorice, to the vet because she had a last-minute commitment with the WI at the town hall. Bess didn’t mind dropping what she was doing to help out but occasionally, she showed up like this, without warning,and that usually meant she was worried about Bess or wanted to do a deep dive into Bess’s emotions – those were the drop-ins that Bess couldn’t handle. She’d rather do a thousand humdrum chores for her mother, cook a hundred cakes for a town hall bake sale, mow her lawn every week over summer than have one ofthoseconversations.
‘I need to get in a bit before start of shift today.’ Bag between her knees, Bess had managed to shrug on her coat. She did up the buttons. The silver fob of her keyring shone as a beam of sunshine caught it when she turned the key in the lock to secure her house. The wordsLive every day as if it were your lastwere engraved on the fob along with the outline of a daisy – she’d found it at a craft fair on holiday last year and she’d grabbed it because those words encapsulated the way she lived her life. It was the way she wanted to keep living it too. Life was too short to do anything but, wasn’t it? She saw so much devastation at work and she’d had enough of it in her personal life as well.
She hugged her mum tightly. ‘I’m sorry, Mum.’
‘I understand, you’re busy. Another time, soon.’
‘Definitely. I promise. Are you out on a walk?’ On the cusp of turning seventy, her mum was pedantic about keeping active and that meant getting her ten thousand steps in each day and thrice-weekly yoga classes. For her job, Bess had to have a good level of physical fitness; she needed to be strong enough to walk rough terrains with heavy equipment and to lift patients on the stretcher. She only hoped she kept her fitness and had half the same energy at her mum’s age.
‘I am. Just heading home now.’ Fiona indicated the wrapped gift poking out the top of Bess’s bag. ‘What have you got there?’
‘It’s a birthday gift for Nadia and the reason I’m going in early.’
‘What did you get her?’
‘It’s a gift set with her favourite perfume, body lotion and shower gel,’ Bess smiled. In its box, it wasn’t easy to fit in her bag, but Nadia would love it and she deserved a treat. She worked hard and kept them all organised and in check. She wasn’t part of either crew at the Whistlestop River Air Ambulance but she was integral to the team as their support officer. ‘We’re planning to surprise her with a celebration at start of shift when the red team coincides with the blue at changeover. That way, everyone gets to be a part of it.’
‘Do wish her a happy birthday from me.’
‘Of course.’ Bess unlocked her car on the driveway, leaned in and popped her bag on the passenger seat. ‘I really wish we could do coffee.’ She felt bad that she had to race off. ‘How about tomorrow? I could pop over to yours around lunchtime so we’ll have a few hours before I’ll be on shift. Let Liquorice know I’m coming.’
Fiona chuckled. ‘I’ll be sure to do that. And tomorrow sounds perfect. I’ll make a cinnamon tea cake: your favourite.’
‘Love you, Mum.’
