‘Weird, right?’ Lottie takes the letter from his hand. ‘Why didn’t she try to find this Francis guy herself?’
Roddy heaves a sigh and feels the weight of something hovering, as he often does in this shop. The thoughtful, moody air of it; the whisper of spirits. He wonders if David’s ghost inhabits this place. As boys they had spent hours in here, playing games and filing books for Phyllida. Roddy was jealous that David had a mother who liked reading and listened with rapt attention to everything two little boys, then two teenage boys, had to say. His own mother was either watching television or working long hours. Phyllida’s bookshop had felt magical. It still did; although it sometimes makes him sad, being here without David. The grief of losing him when they were both just twenty years old had consumed him for years. But he knew he was lucky too, because the best part of David was standing here in front of him. It was as if all the goodness of Roddy’s best friend had been transferred to his daughter. He adored Lottie’s honesty and vulnerability and her sharp wit. She was like a cherished niece.
‘What do you think I should do?’ asks Lottie. ‘Where do I start to look for Francis if she hasn’t even told me who he is?’
‘Good question.’ Roddy thinks for a moment. ‘Maybe Mary will know something about him. Or maybe Phyllida has some records or paperwork in her house.’
‘It feels a bit wrong to look through her things if she only intended me to do it after she’d died,’ says Lottie.
Roddy pushes the letter back across the counter. ‘Maybe it’s critical to finding out what was going through her mind. I mean … we don’t want her to be depressed when she wakes up to find nothing’s changed.’
‘She wasn’t depressed.’
Roddy looks away. He hates seeing Lottie so flat. Hated seeing it when she came back from Sydney broken-hearted over Hugo a month ago. Hates that life is piling hardships on her when she should be out enjoying it. ‘Maybe Phyllida was just ready to be with David again.’ He shrugs.
‘Maybe. I went into the hospital at lunchtime but she isn’t, like, conscious. I’m not sure if that’s partly induced, or what it means, but I’ll try to catch the doctor when I’ve closed the shop. The nurse said she’d be back around five.’
‘I’ve got Sienna in the car. But how about I go in now and see if Phyllida’s woken up or if there’s more news?’
Lottie nods and her lips twitch to a smile. ‘Why do you have Sienna? Isn’t it a school day?’
‘Pupil-free day apparently. I left her with a Big Mac and fries.’ Roddy waves as he heads out the door. ‘I’ll let you know what the nurses say.’
‘Okay. Next time bring Sienna in. I’m keen to meet her after all the stories you’ve told me.’
‘You can just wait in the corridor when we get to Phyllida’s room,’ Roddy tells Sienna. They walk up the exterior stairs of the hospital that services Bowral and the surrounding villages and towns. The brick building is a hotchpotch of extensions in different materials and styles, and is a bit of an eyesore among the otherwise pretty gardens and heritage homes.
‘I shouldn’t be long.’ Roddy isn’t sure if this visit will achieve anything, but Lottie’s letter is niggling at him. He feels the need to help her work out her next move.
He peers around the dingy foyer, which hosts a deserted reception desk with a sign marked ‘volunteer’, and a flower shop in one corner. Buckets of colourful bouquets sit next to stands of cards and toys.
‘Your friend will need cheering up,’ says Sienna. ‘You should buy her a flower.’ She picks up a red rose in a sleeve.
The woman behind the counter glances across at Roddy and says, ‘Little bit of romance never goes astray.’
He feels himself flush. He’s never given a rose to anyone in his life. ‘We don’t need it,’ he mumbles. The rose looks fake and the white spots on the clear plastic sleeve remind him of measles, which seems like a poor business decision considering the target market. ‘Phyllida’s not into shop-bought flowers. Let’s keep going.’ He stabs at the lift button, listening to Sienna’s footsteps behind him.
On the third floor, Sienna steps out onto the ward and unwraps her arms from her chest. She is holding a small pink teddy bear that had been in the display cabinet next to the roses. ‘She’ll definitely like this.’
‘How … what?’ He squints. ‘You stole it?’
‘No. It’s my old one from home.’
The product tag drops from beneath her finger and dangles accusingly. Sienna shrugs. ‘We can’t turn up with nothing.’
‘Yes, we can! And you’re going to have to return that.’ Roddy has a wild urge to press the lift button and get back in, in case police appear. He closes his eyes, takes a deep breath and continues walking along the hall.
At the reception desk further along, he asks where he can visit Phyllida Banks, and the woman consults her computer and gives them directions to the ICU. They follow the signs until they come to another reception area, where another nurse smiles at them.
‘Could I go in and see Phyllida Banks? She was brought in on Saturday night.’
‘Are you family?’
‘Er, yes, I’m her nephew.’ Roddy catches a glimpse of Sienna’s scowl. It is only a small lie. He scowls back. Who’s she to take the moral high ground?
‘You can go in if you wish, but she’s still very sedated. She isn’t able to communicate yet.’ He must look worried because the woman adds hesitantly, ‘She’ll probably be confused and drowsy for quite a while.’
‘Will she recover fully?’
