Chapter Twenty-Five
One rainy Saturday morning in October, Libby’s phone began to ring. She rummaged around before finally locating it under a pile of laundry on the bed. She was surprised to see that it was John calling.
‘Hello?’ she said as she answered the call. It was probably Miriam having forgotten her phone.
‘Libby, it’s John.’
‘John! What a surprise! Is everything OK?’
‘I’m afraid not…’ His voice sounded tight and strained. ‘It’s your mother. I don’t want you to worry, but we’re in hospital. She has had a heart attack. She’s in surgery at the moment and the doctors are doing the best they can, but I think it’s a good idea if you get here as soon as you can.’
Libby felt the blood drain from her head. She sat down on the bed. She couldn’t believe what she had just heard. ‘A heart attack? My god, poor mum. Of course, I’ll come straight away. Where are you?’
John gave her the details of the hospital and she hung up the phone. Helen and Henry were away in Florence on a long weekend. John had tried calling her first but hadn’t been able to get through. Trying to fight the rising panic that was coursing through her veins, Libby grabbed the phone once again. She knew that Angus was working on his paintings, but she didn’t know who else to call.
‘Libby?’ Angus picked up the phone on the third ring.
‘Hi Angus. I need your help.’ She started to cry at the sound of his voice.
‘What is it? What’s happened?’ he asked, his voice immediately full of concern.
‘It’s Mum. John just called. She’s had a heart attack.’
‘Oh my god. Is she OK?’
‘I don’t know. She is in surgery. I need to get to the hospital straight away. I hate to ask, but can you come and look after Izzy?’
‘Of course. I’ll jump in the car now. I’ll be with you in five. Libs, don’t worry, she’ll be OK.’
‘Thank you so much,’ Libby said. She grabbed a few things and stuffed them into an overnight bag, her head spinning. Her mother had always been so healthy. She had never had a scare like this before. Memories of her dad dying came flooding back and her eyes smarted with tears once again.
A short while later there was a loud knock on the door. Libby opened it to see Angus standing there in a grey T-shirt with spatters of paint in his hair and on his cheek. At the sight of his concerned expression, she collapsed into his arms and let him hold her as she sobbed. He stroked her hair and rubbed her back. ‘It’s going to be OK,’ he said.
When she had gathered her composure she pulled herself away, running through a list of instructions for the day in terms of looking after Izzy.
‘Just call me if you have any questions,’ she said.
‘I will. We’ll be just fine, don’t worry about us,’ he said. ‘You just go and look after your mum.’
‘I don’t know how to thank you, dropping everything to come and have Izzy. You really are the best…’ She kissed him on the cheek and hugged him tight. She had to pull herself away. She kissed Izzy goodbye and grabbed her bag and her keys, dashing off down the stairs.
A couple of hours later she was running through the hospital corridors looking for her mother. As she turned the corner she saw John, pacing up and down. Her heart went out to him as she saw the worry on his face. They sat side by side and waited for news from the surgeons. Eventually a doctor came to find them.
They stood up as soon as they saw her approach. Time seemed to slow down as she walked towards them down the brightly lit corridor.
Libby’s heart was pounding. Her palms were sweaty and she tried to steady her breathing, to stop panicking.
John reached for her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. Libby was moved to see how hard he was trying to fight back his emotions. She could tell it was taking him all his strength to retain his outward appearance of calm.
‘Doctor,’ said John. ‘Is there any news?’
‘How is she?’ Libby asked, desperately scanning her face for any clues.
The doctor smiled at them both. ‘I’m pleased to say that Miriam is in a stable condition,’ she said.
Relief coursed through Libby as she grabbed hold of John and squeezed him tightly.
‘Thank god!’ she said.
