“How is he?”
My mother looks up. “Today’s a good day. We had a long chat about the mountains and the birds. He wants to set up a charity to protect the wildlife nearby. I’m going to start the arrangements for it today.”
“Good.” I look at my father. He looks peaceful. No pain. That’s what the focus of each day is now: no pain. We know that there are no more drugs that can be thrown at his cancer. Some worked, some didn’t. The ones that worked didn’t work for long, hadn’t worked for long because this was something else my parents had shielded me from. He’s been ill for years.
Time I could’ve spent with him. Time I’d rather spent with him than at parties and functions and balls, because I have nothing from that. Nothing that I want besides the promise of a tarnished crown that I know will be too heavy for my head to bear.
“How are you? You still look tired? Not sleeping?” She puts down her book.
“No.”
“And there’s no more information. No sign of where he is?”
She misses a word off. There’s no sign he’s alive. His bank accounts haven’t been touched. His sister’s dead. His father has withdrawn into the garden and the greenhouses, refusing to talk. No one knows anything, or if they do they’re not telling me.
I think there’s a lot I’m not being told.
“I miss him, mother.”
She nods. “I know. I understand. You’ve had a lot of loss.”
She doesn’t say it but there’s more to come. I will lose my father. I have lost Ben. I lost my brother; Elise too. I have lost my freedom to a job I never wanted but am obliged to have.
Or am I?
“I don’t know what to do.”
She nods again. “What you’ve done so far has been brave and it’s worked. You’re on the verge of getting a better deal for the country in a way that your father would want.”
He isn’t really aware of what’s been decided, of the deals that are on the verge of being agreed. We’re staying independent, in my eyes. Owned by no one.
“For now.”
“Everything’s only for now. You have to think about your future because we’ll always be battled over, Blair. We have something others want.” Her look now is one I’m not familiar with. Rarely seen.
“What do you think I should do?”
She smiles and looks at my father. “My answer will be different than his. He would say that you’ve been born to serve your country. I think it’s something you should choose and a country is a lot for just one person to make decisions over.”
“You think a parliament would be more effective?”
“I think it would be safer. For you. For your children. For the people who live here. I think you should think about it afterwards.” She stands up and walks to the window, looking at the mountains that are no longer shrouded in mist.
It’s the clearest day I’ve seen since New Year.
“What about Ben?”
She turns, the window framing her, hair tied up in a neat twist, a grey dress that flatters, make up still applied because I know it will make her feel better even if my father doesn’t notice.
“What about Isaac?” My mother’s voice is soft.
“I know. It’s a grieving process.”
“You haven’t even started to grieve yet. It takes time. One day at once. You don’t need to manage any more than that and you never know what will happen.” She walks towards me, her arms open.
I stand and step into them, feeling her warmth and the tightness of her hold.
“Thank you.”
