‘Have you trashed the place yet or what?’ Rob’s familiar drawl greeted him.
‘Not yet, but if I don’t find the damn heating switch soon I will. It’sfreezinghere.’
‘It’s in the cupboard in the hallway, behind the washing machine.’ Rob stifled a yawn. ‘Glad to know you got there safely though. How was the flight?’
‘Yeah, fine,’ Fin replied distractedly, peering into the tiny cupboard and feeling around for the switch. ‘Aha, gotcha!’ he cried jubilantly. ‘Wait, isn’t it like 2 a.m. over there? What are you doing up?’
‘Working,’ Rob grumbled. ‘Essentially trying to make up for being completely trashed last night and doing nothing all day. It was a great party though. We missed you.’
Fin laid himself out on the sofa and sighed. He knew where this conversation was heading and he didn’t know if he had the energy to steer it off course.
‘You wouldn’t have even known I was there. I bet you were completely wasted and can’t remember anything before midnight.’
‘Not true!’ Rob exclaimed. ‘I remember everything, right up until justaftermidnight. To be honest, the rest is a bit of a blank. Although I do distinctly recall seeing Camilla there … by herself.’
‘Did you.’ It wasn’t a question.
‘You know I did.’ Rob paused. ‘Do you want to talk about it?’
Fin laughed. ‘When do I ever want to talk about it?’
‘This is true, and normally I would be more than happy to avoid any form of emotional conversation, but what with your mum and all …’ There was an awkward hesitation. ‘Is everything OK? AreyouOK?’
‘Apart from the fact I’m holed up in this dirty as hell, freezing flat of yours by myself, jetlagged up to my eyeballs and missing out on a shedload of freelance work, I’m fine.’ Fin stood up and forced himself to walk around; he knew the longer he stayed on that sofa, the more likely it was he would never be able to get back up.
‘How ungrateful!’ Rob protested. ‘I told you it hadn’t been lived in for a while and that you were welcome to reject my kind offer of staying indefinitely in my house for free, and go and pay for a nice little hotel room, but nope. You made your bed, you lie in it!’
Fin felt a weight lift from his chest; they were off the emotional talk and back on safer ground now. ‘Speaking of beds … when was the last time you changed the sheets, do you reckon?’
‘Ten years ago. If you’re lucky.’
‘You bastard!’ Fin snorted. ‘I’d better go and do some domestication of this little hole then, hadn’t I? Try and get some sleep, OK, buddy?’
‘I’ll try my hardest. Let me know how it goes with everything, yeah? I hope your mum is … well … you know … I hope it goes all right.’
‘Thanks, Rob.’
Fin felt the lump in his throat grow tighter. Since he hadreceived the fateful phone call it had become a permanent feature of his anatomy, growing and shrinking in size, loosening and tightening its grip but always present. He tried to shake the memory of the conversation from his tired mind but it was never far from the forefront of his thoughts. He had been working from home that morning when his phone had rung. He didn’t recognize the number, but the calling code was one he would never forget.
‘Hello, is this Mr Finley Taylor?’
The English accent had made his stomach flip immediately.
‘Yes, speaking.’
‘My name is Nurse Clara and I’m calling from St Catherine’s Care Home here in Watford. Your mother is Eileen Taylor – is that correct?’
Fin’s heart began to beat furiously in his chest. Even after twenty years of being divorced, she still refused to drop his father’s name. A spark of anger flared up inside him.
‘Uh-huh, that’s right.’
A small pause. A sharp intake of breath. The preparation for bad news.
‘I’m afraid your mother is sick. Really quite sick, in fact.’ The nurse’s voice was clear and to the point, but there was a warmth lingering at the edges that instantly made Fin trust her. ‘She’s been a patient of ours for some time now but things are, unfortunately, deteriorating, and I wanted to let you know with enough time.’
Fin’s mind stalled. A thousand questions flooded his consciousness, making everything blur into a chaotic racket.
‘Enough time?’ he repeated dumbly.
