And suddenly everything is OK again.
CHAPTER 35
Phoebe grips her grandmother’s hand tightly, trying to transmit everything she can’t find the words to say out loud to her through the strength of the squeeze. Not that her nan would notice if she did manage to say everything she needs to say; her eyes are closed as she lies in the hospital bed looking incredibly small beneath the blanket. There are wires and tubes attached to her and every beep of the monitors makes Phoebe jump, terrified that it might be the sign that her grandmother is slipping away.
She hadn’t trusted herself to do the long drive down to Cornwall on her motorbike, especially with the sun beginning to set and with her hands shaking and head spinning. She’d caught the train, stopping quickly by her flat to chuck some things in a bag. She isn’t certain how long she’ll stay for. Nothing feels certain right now, not with the doctors and nurses coming by regularly but with no new news. Her mumand dad are sitting in plastic chairs by the bedside, holding hands, their expressions solemn. Phoebe crouches by the bed because she wants to be as close as she can to her grandmother. With her spare hand, she gnaws at the edge of her fingernails, anxiety coursing through her body.
Phoebe’s older brother, Seth, had been there when Phoebe arrived but had to get back to help his wife get their kids to bed so gave her a tight hug and asked them to keep him informed.
‘I’m so sorry I couldn’t get here earlier,’ she says, her voice hoarse as she turns to face her mum. ‘And I’m so sorry I never called back like I said I would. I feel awful.’
‘That’s OK, love,’ her mum says faintly, her expression distant. ‘I know how busy you are.’
‘But I should never be too busy for you,’ she says, her voice breaking. ‘I’m aterriblegranddaughter.’
‘You’re too hard on yourself, love. Your nan knows you love her, even if you haven’t spoken in a while.’
But the guilt doesn’t go away.
‘It’s getting late,’ says her father, looking at this watch. ‘I think we should all head home for the night.’
Phoebe can see her mum’s hesitation.
‘They’ll phone us if there are any changes,’ her dad says, softly but firmly. ‘We could all do with some sleep.’
So, eventually, they kiss her nan goodbye and leave the hospital.
Phoebe ends up tumbling into her childhood bed, thinking she won’t be able to sleep, but exhaustion quickly pulls her under.
It takes a moment to adjust to her surroundings when shewakes the next morning, tuning in to the distant sound of the sea and looking up at the Hello Kitty posters on her old bedroom walls. The room has been turned into a home office, but her single bed remains, along with the posters on the far wall behind her dad’s desk and bookshelves.
A light tapping on her door makes her sit up. The door opens and her father pokes his head inside. He looks surprisingly fresh-faced given the hour.
‘Morning, Phoebs. Meet me downstairs in five minutes? We’re going out.’
‘To the hospital?’ she asks, sitting up even straighter and scrabbling for her clothes. ‘Has there been news?’
But to her surprise, he shakes his head. ‘Not the hospital yet. You’ll see. Five minutes.’
By the time she’s downstairs in her jeans and an old T-shirt, her dad is waiting by the door, carrying two bags. He says nothing, simply leads her outside, chucks the bags in the boot of the car and opens the passenger door for her.
She’s too sad and sleepy to protest, so climbs in, wishing they’d at least had time to make a coffee. As they set off, Phoebe leans her face against the cool glass, watching the fields flash past and letting the wind tangle her hair as it blows in from her dad’s open window. He tunes in to Classic FM and hums quietly.
‘How’s Max?’ he asks suddenly.
After everything that’s happened, Phoebe doesn’t have the energy to lie.
‘Actually, we broke up. About a week or so ago. He moved out.’
Her father nods, eyes not veering from the road. ‘Thank you for telling me.’
She frowns slightly. ‘You don’t sound surprised.’
Her father checks his mirror as he signals and turns off the main road and down a lane bordered by high, bushy hedgerows. Songbirds dart out from the undergrowth as they pass.
‘When your mum couldn’t get hold of you after your nan’s fall, she tried Max.’
‘Ah.’
