The cabin crew make their safety announcements. My hands grip the seat handles. Claustrophobia overcomes me like a heavy, dark cloud. I check my watch. We’ve got over an hour like this. I want to get off this plane. Leave right now.
The girl shrugs. ‘It’s OK. Mum died two years ago, so I’ve got pretty used to not having her around. Her passing was a blessing in the end. She was suffering too much.’
I make a quick calculation. ‘She must’ve been young.’
‘Early onset,’ she says. ‘She was only forty-two when she was diagnosed. She died eight years later.’
Forty-two. The same age as Justin and me.
‘Cabin crew, seats for take-off,’ the captain announces.
‘My mother was diagnosed five years ago,’ Justin says. ‘She had a fall earlier this year, and she’s gone downhill. So much so, we moved her in with us, didn’t we, darling?’ He spares me a glance and turns back to the girl.
I want to correct him. No!Wedidn’t move your mother in with us.Youdid. And you promised to help me with her.
But I should know by now. There are always so many broken promises with Justin.
It’s his work that now fuels his ego, bouncing from one place to another as he plays up to his ever-growing tribe of followers. Sometimes I wonder if it’s because he hates being at home with me. With my illness. Or perhaps it’s his mother and the burden of her being around all the time.
‘It’s so sad watching their decline, isn’t it?’ Justin says. The concern on his face is sickening. It’s all show. Well-chosen words, slick beyond belief. A martyr to the cause.
But I should be used to it all by now.
Justin shifts in his seat, every aspect of his body language gravitating towards the girl. ‘It was either my mother came to live with us or she went into a care home, and we couldn’t bearthe thought of that,’ he says with gushing sincerity. His hand moves to my knee. I know exactly what he’s up to. ‘Could we?’
I shake my head.
‘We visited a few but found nothing suitable,’ he adds.
Immy’s lips form a straight-line smile conveying apparent empathy, but I can’t work out if she’s putting it on. ‘Dad and I cared for Mum right up until the end. It was hard. Especially when she started wanting to leave the house in the middle of the night.’ She tightens her seat belt.
‘Yes, I found Mum wandering around the garden one night, too.’ He grimaces. ‘We had to start hiding the door keys.’
The aircraft halts. Those momentary seconds, I’m sure pilots take for effect. The engines roar. A waft of engine fumes drifts in as the plane accelerates along the runway. Items in the overhead lockers rattle, making it feel as if the whole aircraft is about to fall apart. Picking up my phone, I distract myself with a game of Candy Crush. I’ve never liked flying. I can’t get my head around how a few hundred people, plus their luggage, jammed in a metal cylinder are able to get into the air, let alone stay there. But this. Trapped in this situation my husband has somehow orchestrated is beyond unbearable.
‘Who’s looking after your mother this weekend?’ Immy asks.
‘Our son, Connor. He’s currently at university and living in London, but it was Beth’s birthday yesterday, so he came home to look after Mum for the weekend, so I could take Beth away.’
That’s not wholly true. But there’s always another angle with my husband. Connor came home because Justin was the guest speaker at the conference this week.
Echoing my thoughts, the girl says, ‘And you still found time to do a talk.’ She smiles at me. ‘Happy birthday for yesterday.’ She’s smart. Cute, this one.
I can’t believe what Justin asks her next. They must’ve become quite acquainted while I’ve been asleep. ‘So who do you live with in Norfolk?’
‘My dad. He’s still grieving the loss of my mum, so I haven’t got around to leaving home yet.’
‘Do you work?’ he asks.
She pauses. ‘Sorry?’
‘I asked what you do for a living.’
‘Oh, sorry, yes. I’m… I’m doing an Open University degree.’
‘What in?’ His voice is grating on me. I want to scream at him. How dare he do this?
‘Social work,’ she says.
