‘Fragile? I’ll give you fragile in a minute, son, if you stand in the way of me and this cake!’
Alfie was glad to hear a bit of bite in the old man’s voice. He walked over to his mum, kissed her on the cheek and then held out his arm in readiness.
‘Can I accompany you to my cubicle, Madame?’
She squeezed his arm gently, looping hers through as she handed the cake tin to Robert, who was already balancing five in his hands. ‘Certainly. Lead the way.’
He knew that showing her the progress he’d made in his walking would cheer her up, and so he was vehemently pushing down the pain of using his prosthesis. He wanted to keep her mind distracted and the topic of conversation light. It was important not to leave too many silences or she’d find a way to fill them with memories. Memories were always the start of a slippery slope into despair.
Once they were across the ward and Alfie was settled back in bed, he realized just how many tins his dad was carrying.
‘Mum, how many people are you feeding? How long did it take to bake all of this?’
‘Don’t even ask, Alf. She had to go and use next-door’s oven because we ran out of room. I swear I’ve never seen Tesco sell out of butter as a result of one single person.’
Alfie loved the way his dad moaned about his mother’s foibles while simultaneously looking at her with such unabashed adoration and love.
‘Well, if you don’t want them, I will happily take them back and give them to the ladies at the salon.’
‘Oh, come on now, Mum, let’s not make any rash decisions here.’ Alfie reached across for one of the tins. ‘I’m very grateful for the cake, especially the brownies. Thank you.’
‘Don’t be silly, I know how much you love them. Plus, you know I always like to bake a little something to try and honour today.’ Her face dropped, and his dad immediately reached for her hand and gave it a squeeze.
‘Come on, love, why don’t we see if anyone else wants some of these?’
Before she could reply, Robert was already pulling her to her feet, cake tins in hand, and leading her out on to the ward floor. Just as they were finishing their rounds, Sarah walked in.
‘Oh my God! What the hell is going on, Alfie? Have you hired people to bring better food than me?’
There she was. A small, blonde, bright ball of energy hurtling towards him.
‘Hello, love. I don’t think we’ve met yet. We’re Alfie’s parents, Jane and Robert.’
Sarah ignored the outstretched hand of his mother and went straight in for a hug.
‘I’m Sarah, Alice’s friend. I’m guessing you haven’tdelivered the mystery woman any cake yet? Hard to do when she’s stuck behind this bloody curtain.’
‘Oh, well, we were just about to act—’
‘Don’t worry, I’ll take some in for her if that’s OK?’
‘Of course! Take as much as you want.’
Sarah fished out a large slice of the lemon drizzle and disappeared behind the curtain.
‘Thank you!’ Alice called.
‘THAT’S OK, LOVE. THERE’S MORE HERE IF YOU WANT.’
Why his mother was shouting at her, Alfie had no idea.
‘Mum, it’s just a curtain, not a stone wall. You don’t have to shout.’
‘Oh, right. Yes.’ Redness flooded her cheeks. ‘Well, just be quiet and eat your brownies.’
The afternoon passed surprisingly well. Probably a result of the extremely high blood sugar levels and numerous cups of tea being delivered because ‘a slice of cake isn’t right without a cup of tea’, according to the nurses.
‘So come on, tell us. Is there any news on when you’ll be out yet?’
