‘Mum?’ Eleanor called, as Freya knocked a little harder.
Silence.
‘Where the hell could she be? You don’t think she’s got a man in there, do you?’ Freya’s eyes widened in horror.
‘Ew, absolutely not! Angela Levy mates for life. There’s no way she’s with another man,’ Eleanor replied, trying desperately to convince herself at the same time.
‘Mum,’ Freya shouted, banging loudly on the door.
‘All right, give me onesecond, will you?’ the raised voice of their mother called from within. There was a distinct wobble to it that they hadn’t heard before.
Eleanor and Freya looked at each other in confusion.
‘Does she sound OK to you?’ Freya whispered.
But before Eleanor could respond, the door opened.
‘Mum?’ Freya gasped, staring at the figure in front of them. The brazen woman draped in swathes of beaded chiffon and layers of embroidered silk had been replaced with an old woman in a dressing gown. The usual made-upface and blow-dried hair instead looked pale and bare and limp.
‘Mum, are you OK?’ Eleanor asked, perplexed.
‘Come. Come in,’ she whimpered, pulling the soft cotton robe around her more tightly and ushering the pair inside.
Nobody spoke; the situation was too surreal for either sister to comprehend. Eleanor tried to make sense of what was happening, looking around the house in search of any clues. Their mother led them into the kitchen and sat down in the chair.
‘Frey, make some tea, will you?’ Eleanor found her voice at last. ‘Mum, what’s going on? Are you sick?’
Angela gave a little hiccup of a laugh. ‘No, no, I’m not sick. Although I can see why you’d think that.’ She smoothed her fluffy hair self-consciously. ‘I didn’t want you to see me like this.’
‘You look fine.’ Freya placed her hand tentatively on her shoulder.
‘Please.’ Their mother snorted with derision. ‘I didn’t even look this bad when I gave birth to you, darling, and that was an ordeal to say the least.’
Freya gave Eleanor her ‘over to you’ look, and turned back to busy herself with the tea.
‘OK … you look awful,’ Eleanor stated bluntly, trying to emulate her best version of Angela Levy’s tough love. ‘Why do you think we’re so worried? Forgive us for thinking the worst.’
The edges of her mother’s lips gave a little pull upwards; the briefest hint of a smile appeared on her face.
‘So …’ Eleanor continued. ‘What’s happened?’
‘Well,’ Angela sighed. ‘Everything was fine. I got up, did my yoga stretches, had a little chat with your father.’ Freya gave Eleanor a very concerned look but she ignored it. There would be plenty of time to discuss their mother talking to their dead father later. ‘And I was about to make my breakfast when the phone rang. It was one of the nurses from Eileen’s care home.’ Her voice began to tremble. ‘Eileen,’ she whispered, shaking her head in despair. ‘Oh, poor Eileen.’
Eleanor’s mind was racing. She wanted her mum to hurry up and tell her what had happened, but she knew she had to be patient.
Angela managed to steady herself and continue. ‘The doctor says it’s only a matter of days now. I knew it was coming. We all knew it was coming. I mean, she barely keeps her eyes open when I visit, and I have been assured by the nurses on multiple occasions it’s not just when I come to see her!’ A glimmer of the Angela Levy humour sparkled through the clouds of sadness. ‘But hearing it like that, it … I suppose it took me back to when your father passed. Those final days. The heaviness of it all. Then before I knew it, the doorbell was ringing and here you both were. I must have been sitting here for hours.’
Eleanor’s thoughts were immediately filled with Fin.
‘I’m sorry, Mum.’ Freya came and sat down at the table, passing her a big cup of tea. ‘That really sucks.’
‘Yeah.’ Eleanor reached her hand out to her mum. ‘It does.’
‘Hmmmm.’ Her mother sighed, taking tiny tentative sips of her drink.
‘Did they find out today?’ Eleanor asked, trying to subtly establish how bad a friend she’d been to Fin.
‘No. The doctor came to see her a couple of days ago, I believe.’
