My father hada mini-stroke the year before and had to change his lifestyle somewhat, including a diet and lessening what he drank. It had been a strange experience, to see him immediately after, stumped by what had happened and realising that he was mortal like the rest of us.
Seph:When are you back, Cal?
Callum:Three and a half weeks. We’re heading to Ghana next for a week, then Madagascar, before ending up in Marrakesh.
Seph:Nice.
Vanessa:Can you pick up a silver teapot from Marrakesh?
My sister-in-law was a treasure.She was lovely and survived living with Jackson. I’d happily buy her anything. I was responding to that effect when my phone started to ring. Maxwell’s name flashed up, along with a picture of me and him stood next to each other, taken at Claire’s wedding.
“What’s up?” Max never rang for a chat.
“Marie’s not well.”
He’d never been one for small talk. I bent over, looking down to my knees, needing to keep the conversation private.
“What’s the matter? If she’s not well, why’s she looking after Eliza?”
“Because Dad’s round too and believe it or not, he’s pretty good with her. She’s not gotten rid of that cough she’s had for ages and it’s getting worse.”
“So what’s being done about it? Is she booked into see someone? Do I need to come home?”
I heard Max laugh, the soft calm laugh I recognised as being mine too. This was reassuring and reminded me of being a child, when I’d head to him as he had been my security blanket for so long.
“She’s been to the doctor. If it persists, I’ll take her to the hospital to get an x-ray. Vic thinks it might be pneumonia but you know what Marie’s like.”
“She won’t even admit she’s ill and our fucking father’s too self-absorbed to question her.” He’d have his head buried in accounts from the winery they’d bought or something.
“He’s actually really worried, Cal, but he’s trying not to show it because he knows it’ll make Marie hide how sick she’s feeling. Me and Vic are going to go and stay for a few days and take Eliza with us. If we think she needs treatment we’ll made sure she gets seen. She won’t listen to him.” His tone was level, calm, one I recognised.
“Should I come home?”
“No. That’ll make it worse. I’ll be honest with you, I think there’s more going on and she needs to be seen for an x-ray at least. This has lasted too long to be a virus or infection, but the bloody woman’s so stubborn…”
My default response to someone being poorly was reliance on the medical care system. Doctors knew what they were doing; there was no point in worrying about something that might not happen; worrying only made things worse.
But this was Marie, the woman who had cleaned my knee when I had fallen off my bike the first time I rode it without stabilisers, the woman who had pulled my hands away from my face when I was trying to hide tears and told me that it was okay for boys to cry. The woman who had attended every one of my parent-teacher evenings and scolded me when I had missed deadlines for coursework like I was a small child instead of seventeen.
“Max, I need to come home.”
There was silence but I knew he was still there.
“I can get a flight in the next couple of days.”
“No. Stay put. I’ll keep you up to date with what happens. I’m not broadcasting it out to everyone, Cal. Seph will go into a meltdown and Ava has enough on her plate at the moment. I didn’t want you getting wind of something when you were over there.” He was calm, the usual Max.
I felt like I was four years old again.
“She’ll be okay though?”
“She’ll be fine. Again, this is Marie. You know how tough she is. Too tough to admit this is more than a chest infection and being run down. Don’t freak out on me, Callum, else I’ll end up coming over there and I really need to be here.”
“I won’t. I’ll be fine. Just make sure you text me every day with how she is or a picture.”
There was a life. “Proof of life. Yeah, I will do. And Vic will. I’m so fucking glad she’s around.”
“I know. I think we all are. You’re a grumpy fucker when she’s not about.”
