‘Yes. Things are progressing fast and I wanted to call sooner rather than later.’ She paused; her silence felt heavy and loaded. ‘I’m sorry to have to deliver such bad news.’
Fin felt his grip tighten around his phone. This couldn’t be real. Surely this couldn’t be real? Suddenly a thought struck him. ‘Does she know you’re calling me?’ he asked.
‘At St Catherine’s, we are empowered to make decisions about when is the right time to inform family members,’ she stated firmly. ‘You’re down as the only next of kin.’
‘But she doesn’t know, does she?’ A cascade of emotions assaulted him. ‘She hasn’t told you to call me?’
‘No,’ the nurse confirmed. ‘No, she hasn’t.’
‘Shouldn’t you tell her?’ He ran his hands anxiously through his hair. How could this be happening?
‘As I said … we are empowered to make the decision when a patient is not fully able to do so themselves.’
‘What do you mean, not fully able to do so themselves?’
‘Unfortunately, your mother has dementia.’
‘Right …’ Fin had to use every morsel of strength to keep focused on this stranger and her words. The room was spinning from the number of thoughts whirring around in his head. ‘Is that what’s killing her?’
‘No. She was diagnosed with terminal cancer a few months ago.’
‘Shit,’ he breathed, completely thrown by this entire conversation.
‘Quite.’ The nurse paused. ‘I’m very sorry that you had to find out this way, Mr Taylor, and I don’t know what happened between you two – quite frankly it’s none of my business – but what I will say is, whether it’s a good or bad day, you’re all she talks about.’
Fin felt his breath catch in his chest. ‘Really?’
‘Really.’
Neither spoke for a moment and Fin desperately tried to sort his chaotic thoughts into some form of order.
‘How long has she got?’ he asked, clutching the phone tightly to his ear.
‘It’s hard to say. But in these situations, we’d always advise you to get here as quickly as you can.’
*
He’d managed to stay up until just past 8 p.m. before the waves of exhaustion took hold and swept him away. Despite Rob’s musty sheets, which he hadn’t bothered to change in the end, Fin had slept surprisingly well. In fact, he probably would have slept right through until the afternoon if he hadn’t been rudely awoken by the incessant buzzing of his phone.
Bleary-eyed, he reached over and answered.
‘Erm hello,’ he mumbled groggily.
‘Fin?’ a voice whispered down the phone. ‘Is that you?’
‘Uh-huh.’ He tried to stifle a yawn whilst silently unfurling his limbs from their curled-up sleeping position.
‘Oh my God, it’s me … Kate!’ his overexcited friend announced loudly.
Fin sat up and rubbed his eyes. ‘Oh, hey Kate. You all right?’ He was suddenly conscious of the American twang that had crept into his voice over the years. No wonder she didn’t recognize the sound of him.
‘I’m great. I’m sorry, did I wake you?’
‘No, I’m just a bit jetlagged. I flew in yesterday.’
‘I amsoexcited you’re here! I couldn’t believe it when I saw your email. I mean, classic you to message me less than two weeks before the wedding!’
‘Yeah, about that …’ He tried to backtrack, feeling increasingly foolish for even thinking about asking to come, let alone sending the message. ‘It was stupid of me – ignore it.’
