I don’t kiss him one last time because I wouldn’t be able to stop. I squeeze his hand and jump out, shut the door. He gives me a final look, swings the car around and drives away.
*
I’m a horrible person to be around for the rest of the day.
The clock ticks over from three o’clock, past four, towards five. I thought I would’ve at least had a text by now. I can’t sit still. Nani finally stops me while I’m reading aloud to her from one of her poetry books. ‘For goodness sake, Amita, whatisit? You’re like a dog with fleas.’
I throw down the book. ‘I wish itwasfleas. You can get rid of fleas.’
‘What is bothering you, bebe?’
‘What do you do when you’re worried or afraid, Nani?’ I try to clarify. ‘Not for yourself. For someone else.’
She regards me. ‘Don’t you do enough of that?’
‘This is different.’
‘Well, then,’ she says calmly, ‘usually I pray. And when I’ve done all the praying I can do, I talk, or walk, or try to stay busy.’
I’ve done a little praying in my head already so I decide to take her other suggestion. I send off a text to Harris –Pls contact hospital when available– then go for a walk, tramping down the street in the dusk.
While I’m out of the house I call Dad. ‘Harris says the dates should come through today.’
‘Hallelujah,’ Dad says. ‘When does he find out?’
‘He should’ve found out by now,’ I say, fretting. ‘I’ve been waiting for him to get in touch.’
‘Maybe he’s been held up,’ Dad offers. ‘He’s been reliable up until this point, hasn’t he? Just give him some more time. What else has been happening? Are you right up there?’
I haven’t told him about the conversation with my aunt. Hansa keeps giving me sideways looks, waiting for me to give some sign I’ve come to a decision. Putting her off is getting more difficult.
‘Auntie Hansa wants me to become Nani’s carer,’ I say bluntly. ‘Nani is getting too frail to be left on her own, and after that wandering episode we’re concerned about her. Hansa’s asked me to quit my job and come live with them.’
‘Really?’ Dad sounds odd. ‘Right.’
‘I mean, I’m kind of well-qualified to look after Nani. She definitely needs someone.’
‘And that someone has to be you?’
‘I don’t know,’ I admit. ‘But it would be better than dumping her in a nursing home. Hansa’s offered to pay me a wage, and I could do nursing training up here…’
‘Is that something you really wanna do?’
I hesitate. ‘I feel sort of like I’ve been preparing for it. And, well, it’s Nani.’
‘I know you care about her, love, but…’ There’s a pause on the line. ‘Look, I know about the residency.’
‘What?’ My stomach drops.
‘I found some papers in your room…’ Dad sounds pained. ‘Sweetheart, why didn’t you tell me?’
I can’t reply, because of course I didn’t tell him. I never wanted him to know I was weighing his health, our life together, against something as frivolous as photography.
‘You should do it.’ His voice has a gruff urgency. ‘They want a reply by Friday, right? You should say yes, and you should –’
‘Dad, I can’t accept a residency.’ I sound flat, weird. ‘You know I can’t accept it. With you and Nani sick –’
‘Amita.’ I can hear him glowering. ‘Please don’t say you’re knocking this back. And don’t use me and your grandmother as an excuse.’
