‘Oh,’ she replied glumly.
‘I’m surprised you didn’t know already,’ her mother went on curiously. ‘Have you not spoken to Fin?’
Guilt clawed at her throat. ‘No, not really. I assumed he’d let me know if anything really bad happened.’
A look of disbelief broke out on Angela’s face. ‘Eleanor!’ she gasped, all traces of the meek and mild woman that had been sitting in front of them disappearing instantly. ‘His mother isdying. Did you really expect him to reach out to you? He’s a man. They don’t talk.’
‘And you think I can make him? I don’t even really know him any more.’
You know him well enough to kiss him.
‘Yes, you do, my dear! He’s the same boy you grew up with underneath it all. Anyway …’ – she bristled, planting her mug down hard on the table – ‘do you think I got a word out of your father voluntarily? I don’t think so.’
‘Sorry. I’ve been preoccupied.’
‘Psht,’ her mother scorned. ‘A poor excuse if ever I heard one.’
‘It’s true!’ Eleanor insisted. ‘Besides, this isn’t about me right now. It’s about you. Are you OK?’
All at once, her mother looked down, as though only really seeing herself for the first time. ‘Good Lord, this won’t do,’ she announced with disgust. ‘I’m going to shower.’
‘Are you sure you don’t want to sit for a bit longer?’ Freya asked cautiously, eyeing Eleanor warily.
‘Darling, I think I’ve been sitting around moping for quite long enough,’ she replied. ‘Sitting doesn’t do anything for anybody.’ She stood up decisively. ‘Eleanor, make sure youcall Fin, and Freya, make us some sandwiches. There’s plenty in the fridge. I won’t be long.’
And with that, she left.
‘Wow.’ Freya stared at Eleanor, still looking bewildered. ‘We need a serious debrief in the car home.’
‘Big time.’ Eleanor stood and began clearing away the half-drunk cups of tea. ‘Now come on, if we don’t have a full spread laid out ready for when she’s done, we’ll be in a world of trouble.’
‘What about Fin? Aren’t you going to call him?’
‘I’ll do it later; it will be much easier to talk away from the prying ears of mum,’ she replied.
‘Good plan.’ Freya smiled, opening the fridge door and peering inside. ‘Ooh, there’s a quiche in here, do you reckon we can eat that?’
Eleanor tried to smile through the guilt. ‘Freya, this is still our mother we’re talking about. I reckon she’s expecting us to eat everything!’
*
It seemed that a shower, four rounds of sandwiches and three slices of quiche was enough to bring Angela Levy back to life. Both Freya and Eleanor had insisted on staying on into the evening, fearful that once left alone, the dressing gown and blank staring may be at risk of a swift return. But they had been sent packing with reassurances and Tupperwares of food.
‘That was really weird, wasn’t it?’ Freya said as they set off in the car.
‘So strange,’ Eleanor agreed, still quite unable to believe the state they’d found their mother in.
‘I don’t even remember her being like that after Dad died,’Freya commented. ‘Except at the funeral of course,’ she added sadly. ‘After that day, I swear she turned back to normal.’
A sharp pang of realization struck Eleanor. ‘I don’t think she did.’ She stole a quick glance at her sister. ‘She just pretended to, for our sakes.’
Freya rested her forehead against the window. ‘Shit.’
Neither spoke for a long time, Eleanor fiercely trying to bat away thoughts of her sad broken mother wrapped in a dressing gown, crying silently over their dad in secret.
‘I wonder how Fin is taking it.’ Freya broke the silence, her words so pointed that Eleanor couldn’t even pretend to feign ignorance.
‘I’m sure he’ll be fine,’ she replied positively. ‘It’s different now. He’s different.’
