Before he had another moment to think, the door flew open to reveal none other than Angela Levy.
‘Good God!’ she cried, her eyes so wide they were filling half of her face. ‘Fin?’ She breathed his name, stepping forward to inspect him.
‘Angela, hi.’ He waved pathetically.
‘Look at you.’ She gesticulated wildly up and down the length of his body. ‘I can’t believe you’re here! Your mother is going to besohappy to see you.’ All at once he was pulled into a fierce embrace.
‘Now’ – Angela held him out at arm’s length – ‘be prepared. She’s going to look a little different. But …’ She squeezed him firmly, interrupting his thoughts. ‘She’s still Eileen. She’s still your mum. Don’t forget that, OK?’
Fin nodded dutifully and stepped to the side to let her pass.
‘How long are you planning on staying for?’ she asked.
‘Not sure yet. I guess it depends on …’ He dropped his gaze slightly. ‘On how my mum does.’
‘Of course.’ Angela patted his arm sympathetically. ‘Well, while you’re here, youmustcome over for Sunday lunch. We’re still in the same place as we’ve always been.’
Fin was about to open his mouth and fire off any excuse he could think of, when Angela planted a firm kiss on his cheek and began to stroll off down the corridor. ‘And you know I won’t take no for an answer,’ she called back, her layers of purple chiffon flapping wildly out behind her. ‘I’ll be in touch, darling.’
Both Nurse Clara and Fin stood silently for a moment.
‘She’s a force to be reckoned with, that one is.’ Nurse Clara chuckled. ‘And that’s coming from me!’ She adjusted her glasses and placed her small hand firmly on his back. ‘Are you ready, Fin?’ she asked softly.
‘Uh-huh.’ He nodded meekly, still a little dazed from the whirlwind of Angela.
‘I’ll be down the corridor if you need me, all right?’ She gently pushed him into the room, closing the door quietly behind him.
It took a moment for Fin’s eyes to adjust without the stark strip lighting of the corridor. The room itself was fairly small and strangely dark.
‘Hello?’ a faint voice murmured feebly.
Fin forced his eyes to focus. There in front of him was a large hospital-type bed, and tucked up under the covers seemed to be a mass of skin and bone. If he hadn’t known it was his mother lying there, he could have been persuaded it was nothing more than crepe paper and matchsticks. An artistic interpretation of a human being. A sketch of life.
Slowly her head turned in his direction and recognition flickered in her large glassy eyes.
‘Oh my,’ she gasped.
Fin stood there frozen. The only thing his body seemed able to do was blink and breathe.
‘Fin?’ The wispy figure reached out a tentative hand, as though his mother were grasping for a mere memory of him. ‘Is that really you?’ Her eyes narrowed.
He shuffled forward so that she could see him a little better. All at once her withered face lit up. ‘My word. You look … you look so grown-up.’
Fin could feel his entire body prickle with emotion. The regret. The anger. The shame. They all piled in, one on top of the other, scrabbling for top spot, whilst he stood there silently.
‘Sit, please.’ His mother pointed at the empty chair by the side of her bed. Fin approached cautiously and sat down.
‘How did you even know where I was?’ A bewildered look fell across her sunken face.
‘One of the nurses called me,’ he mumbled, still unable to believe that this was what his mother had become.
‘I see.’ Her lips pursed and her face darkened. ‘I didn’t know. If I did, I would have told them not to bother you. They like to make a fuss here.’
‘Well, dementia and cancer kind of feels like something to make a fuss over.’ With every word spoken, Fin could feel the weight of tension growing heavier on his shoulders. ‘But maybe that’s just me.’ He shrugged, noting how petulant his sarcasm sounded.
‘I didn’t want to inconvenience you, that’s all. I’m sorry you’ve had to come all this way.’
‘It’s fine.’ He tried to sound like he meant it, but it was proving trickier than he thought. ‘How are you feeling?’
