She went on out of the door, leaving just Amber, who had reached over and placed her hand on Marge’s forearm.
‘Marge, I’m sorry about everything that happened with Estelle too.I was so stubborn.I should have listened to her, but listening has never been my strong point.’
Always so self-deprecating.And so strong.Marge remembered now that Amber came to Kenneth’s funeral with her, even though she was exhausted with work and a baby and breastfeeding.
‘Your boys?’
‘Growing like weeds and they’re gorgeous and funny and they give me new wrinkles every day from lack of sleep and worry.But they’re great, Marge.I hear you’re being moved to another ward tomorrow, so I was thinking if you would like me to, I could bring the boys along to visit.’
Marge remembered that Bernadette had said something similar – she was going to bring Jack up too.People were kind, weren’t they?Caring.That sparked a thought that saddened her.Why had she waited so long to tell people where she was?Why had she not let anyone in?Shared what she was going through?She had no answers, but maybe it wasn’t too late.
Marge nodded.‘I’d like that.’
Amber’s eyes were glistening just like Bernadette’s now, and Marge got the same feeling she’d had a moment ago.She had something to say.She couldn’t quite think… Amber.Estelle.It came to her.
‘You’re friends again?’
She wished it was easier to talk, but she lost her strength as the day went on.She’d be better again in the morning.But in the meantime, she had more to say.
‘Amber, take care of her.When I can’t.Take care of her.’
Amber was crying now, and Marge felt terrible that she’d upset her.She watched as Amber used the sleeve of her jumper to quickly wipe her face.
‘I will, Marge, I promise.And I’ll take care of you too.I’ll bring cakes tomorrow and I’ve got so many stories to tell you.And gossip.So much of the kind of gossip I used to tell you about, and you’d pretend you weren’t interested, but I know you secretly were.’
Marge had such an urge to laugh, but it didn’t escape her throat.She hoped Amber knew she was laughing on the inside, because she was so right in her recollection.The times Amber had sat at their kitchen table and told them all the ins and outs of who was dating who at college and then, later, all the playgroup mum dramas, and the gossip from her work.She had an endless stream of chat, and Marge had been amused by it all.
‘And Ewan?’It was getting harder to force the words out now.She was getting tired.
‘Ouch.’A big sigh.‘I think he’s a work in progress.He still wants me to forgive him, but I don’t know if I can.’
Before Marge could offer any thoughts on that, the door opened and Estelle and Bernadette came back in.
‘Keli said we’re fine for five more minutes, Mum, and then we’ll get off and let you sleep.Unless you want me to stay?Craig’s over visiting his brother in Edinburgh this weekend, so it would be no problem to sleep here.Keli says there’s a rollout bed she can bring in for me…’
‘No,’ Marge managed to say.‘I’ll.Be.Fine.’If she took a breath between each word, it was easier.
‘Okay, Mum, if you’re sure.’She’d come up to the side of the bed now and was stroking Marge’s hair back like she used to do when she was playing hairdresser as a little girl.‘I love you, Mum.’
‘Love.You.’
She felt a kiss on the top of her head, and she smiled.Estelle.
No, it was Ian.
‘Hello, love,’ he said, as he pushed a stray lock of hair back behind her ear.He had on her favourite jumper, the one that she’d bought him for Estelle’s twenty-first birthday party.It was a pale blue colour and he’d made several jokes already about it matching his winter West of Scotland complexion.Marge didn’t care.He was as handsome as she’d ever seen him.
He nudged the door open with his hip, because his hands were full, carrying the tray with two mugs of tea and a plate of his favourite biscuits.
‘Come on, Marge.Just leave all that,’ he said, pointing to the pile of paperwork that was in front of her on the kitchen table, waiting to be filed away.She liked things to be organised.Couldn’t bear to leave a job half done.But… Well, what did it matter?If it were a choice of sitting in the garden on a mild, sunny day with Ian, or doing just about anything else, she was pulling her summer cardigan on and going with him.
She followed him out and took a seat at table they’d loved for years, the one that sat in the middle of the garden facing south.It was the perfect spot, even if she had to put her hand up to her face, and squint against the sun when she was looking at him.
‘You told me you were pregnant right here, do you remember?’
She did.Every word of that conversation was etched on her brain.The day she’d thought she would lose him.Instead, she’d gained her future.
Marge nudged his shoulder with hers.‘And you walked down to that tree to think about it.The only swift decision you ever made in your life.’
