“Oh, God, Christine, I’m so afraid.” The admission, out loud, startled me. Up until then, I had only admitted it to myself in the hospital when no one else was around—which often felt like all the time.
I sat back in my seat and stared out the windshield as she drove. “You’re right; every time I pick up the mail, there are more bills—electricity, insurance and now the car. And it’s just... I wish I could see a positive end in sight for Rosie, but, in truth, I have no idea if or when she’ll be home. Please understand I appreciate you and Lucy and everything that you guys do, and have done for me since I moved here, but I have never in my life felt more alone.”
Christine reached across and took my hand in hers, and I appreciated this small dose of human contact. When she spoke again, her voice had softened.
“It’s OK to be scared, Kate. It is. I can’t imagine the way you feel. I would be devastated if anything happened to my three.” She squeezed my hand. “But you also can’t allow yourself to be taken advantage of.”
Her tone was still soft, but there was resolve behind her words. And I felt something stir within myself. Was that what was happening to me? Had I been made into a victim? Was I completely subject to the whims of the universe throwing whatever shit it wanted to at me?
“Is that what you think?” I asked quietly. Christine’s question now made me wonder how other people were actually viewing me. Usually I didn’t care. But this was different. Was that all people thought I was? A hapless victim?
Christine considered my query and I could tell she was weighing up the right words to use. She took a careful breath and said, “I think that other people’s actions—or inactions rather—have impacted your and certainly your family’s life, for the negative. And I believe that those same people don’t understand the enormous damage their reckless decisions have caused...”
She let her words trail off, and I once again considered all that had happened. Two children, both unvaccinated. One for health reasons, the other by choice. Two sick little girls. One who’d recovered, seemingly effortlessly. Another still fighting pneumonia in the hospital.
And then there was me. I’d been forced to essentially give up work, had a mountain of bills the size of Everest to pay and was only weeks away from being penniless. Even my shitty car—my only form of transport to my sick daughter twenty miles away—wouldn’t play ball for me.
Noneof this would have happened if Rosie hadn’t gotten sick, would it?
My mind suddenly flashed to that photo of Clara I’d seen on Madeleine Cooper’s social media earlier. Thanks to the fact that her daughter had sailed through her illness, there was a woman who was back to normal and had thetimeto put up pictures and write chatty posts online.
Whereas I barely had the wherewithal to brush my teeth...
I suddenly felt like screaming and pulling my hair out. The stir of such emotion in me made my heart pump furiously and it felt as though it was the first time in weeks that particular organ had beat with determination.
And Christine seemed to sense the change.
“Please, let me introduce you to my cousin, Kate,” she said, her eyes steady on me. “I really think Declan might be—”
But the remainder of her words were cut off by the urgent ringing of my phone, and my heart sank to the depths of my stomach when I realized it was Lucy from the hospital.
It dropped to my feet when I heard her tone. “Kate, sweetheart,” my friend said, and though she tried her best to hide it, I sensed panic dripping from every word, “Rosie’s had an episode and the doctors are with her now. You really need to get back.”
14
Everyone still good for tomorrow night at Julie’s? Been a bit too busy to read the book, but I am definitely on for the vino! M xx
Madeleine smiled as she sent a quick group text to the members of her monthly book club. The group was due to meet at another member’s house the following evening, and while events of the last few weeks meant that she would have to forgo discussion of this month’s title, she was very much looking forward to kicking back with a (very large) glass and a gossip.
“Come on, guys, time to go!” she called upstairs to the kids, once again having to rush them out for a long-overdue trip to their grandmother’s house.
Tom wouldn’t be coming to Harriet’s with them this time, as he was putting in extra hours at work to try to make up for the time off he’d taken when Clara was ill. Madeleine was fine with that; she certainly didn’t want to have to miss out on their usual two weeks in Portugal this summer because of dried-up annual leave.
She was just checking if the kids had correctly secured themselves into the back seat of her little Audi Speedster (Jake in particular was a demon for not clicking the belt in properly) when her phone beeped with a reply from Julie Wells, host of tomorrow night’s book club.
Probably best to leave it this time, Madeleine. Talk soon.
Madeleine frowned. Weird—was Julie really holding it against her that she hadn’t read this month’s selection? Especially when the book was usually just an excuse to get together for a glass and a gossip? There were always one or two members who made an attempt at a discussion if the title in question was particularly good or controversial, but most of the time the aim of the club was forgotten within the first half hour and the remainder of the evening spent catching up and having a laugh.
And Madeleine badly needed a laugh; it felt like she’d been cooped up forever when Clara was ill, and since her daughter’s recovery she’d been mostly underwater trying to catch up on work. She wanted to glam up a bit in nice clothes and heels and spend the night having a good old gossip.
You sure? I really don’t mind coming along anyway. I can just stay quiet in the corner for the discussion part (difficult, I know!) and then join in for the fun bit afterward.
The reply came back almost immediately.
Honestly, it’s not a good idea. Maybe next time.
Sitting into the driver’s seat, Madeleine frowned. Was it just her or did Julie’s reply seem...curt?
