I raise my hand to knock, but Jackson opens it before I connect.
‘Bang on time.’ He smiles at me and I fill with sunshine. ‘Thank you for doing this. I’m not looking forward to today, but I have to try to get it sorted.’
‘It’s not a problem. I’ve always got on with your mum.’
‘Come on, I’ll show you what’s what.’
The inside of the cottage is as cared for as the outside, which surprises me a bit. With two lads living here, I thought it might be messier.
‘We converted the dining room into a bedroom for Mum until she’s able to go back upstairs to her own room. I’m in her bedroom for now. The toilet and shower are in there.’ He points to a door off the hallway. ‘Straight ahead is the kitchen and to your left is the lounge.’
He pops his head in through the lounge door. ‘Hey, Mum. I’m showing Ellie around. Do you need anything?’
I stick my head in alongside his and wave. ‘Hi.’
Sophie is sitting in a high-backed pale green chair with the soft grey blanket lying across her lap. The chair is tilted back a little and directly in front of the TV. Tippi is curled up in a brown suede dog basket at the foot of her chair. The little dog’s bandage and large conical collar are happily missing.
‘Hello, lovely,’ Sophie says, her eyes lighting up. She picks up the remote from the chair armrest and presses mute. ‘It’ll be good to have some different company.’
‘We’re not that bad,’ says Jackson, tension creeping into his voice.
‘You’re not. In fact, I’d be lost without you and your brother, and you know it.’ She tilts her head towards him. ‘But there’s nothing wrong with a bit of different company once in a while.’
‘What are you talking about? Your friends are always dropping in. Mary came to see you yesterday evening and Dillon’s forever in and out.’
‘It’s a joke, Jackson.’ She shakes her head. ‘Stop taking things so seriously.’ She waves her hands at us. ‘Go do whatever you were doing. I’m fine here.’ She settles her head back against the headrest of her chair and unmutes the TV.
Jackson leads me into the kitchen. He leans on the counter and stares straight out into the garden. I stay silent and give him a minute until I begin to feel uncomfortable.
‘Are you OK?’ I lay my hand on his arm.
He turns to face me with a tight-lipped, sad smile. ‘I worry about her.’
‘Of course you do.’
It must be hard seeing his mum a shadow of her former self, because that’s the best way to describe her. The Sophie I knew was a self-sufficient, bright live wire. She often made my mum look boring and grey in comparison when we were kids. She gave you the confidence to be yourself and to think outside of the box, whereas my mum liked to play it safe and not rock the boat. When I opened the café, she began to pop in once a week after her hikes along the beach and brought her Lycra-clad walking buddies with her. Their table was always the rowdiest of the day, with laughter and banter. And however awkward I felt about our history, she never treated me as if we had a past that shattered everybody.
‘She has to keep fighting. I keep telling her, the sooner she gets her strength back, the sooner she’ll feel better.’ His eyes have a sheen of tears over them.
I want to wrap him in my arms and make everything alright and fix his mum. Standing here giving him platitudes feels inadequate.
‘Anyway.’ He waves towards the fridge. ‘There’s chickendinner for when she’s hungry and one for you. I keep telling her she has to eat. It’s important. But she doesn’t have much of an appetite. I’m going to get her some steak for later when I’m out.’ He opens the fridge and points to a couple of plates with tinfoil over them. ‘She has meds after food and often takes a nap after.’ He pauses, tension etched in the contours of his face.
‘It’s OK. You can tell me anything.’ I move my gaze to catch his.
‘She doesn’t always make the bathroom in time.’ He looks distraught.
I take his hand and squeeze it gently.
‘She has incontinence pads we got from the hospital, but if they need changing, there are more in the chest of drawers in her room.’ He turns to look away from me. ‘I’m sorry about this.’
‘Don’t be. I’m not a kid. We’ll be fine.’
‘I wish I didn’t have to sort this mess out with the council. Then I could stay and look after her. But if I don’t go …’ His voice trails away.
‘Could they really shut you down?’
‘I keep telling Milo no, because I don’t want him to worry. But if I can’t sort this, they will. At least until the correct paperwork is on file.’
