She struggled to find a parking space, sent up her thanks to the universe when she did, then made her way to the A&E department. ‘I’m here to see Julie Butler,’ Rosie said to the woman behind the plexiglass screen at reception. ‘My dad and brother are here somewhere. She’s my mum.’
Rosie felt her eyes grow glossy at these last three words. She swiped beneath her eyes to catch her tears. What if she never got the chance to make things right with Julie? She’d spent weeks ignoring her for good reason, for the sake of self-preservation – but running away from the issues in their relationship wouldn’t solve them. It just meant they couldn’t repair anything.
The receptionist nodded briskly, seemingly used to sudden displays of emotion from visitors. ‘Take a seat just in there,’ she said, indicating a door that led to an open-plan waiting room. ‘She’s undergoing tests, I believe. You should hear more soon.’
A minute later, Michael and Colin appeared in the waiting room. Her father was holding a paper cup of some hot liquid that doubtless claimed to be tea, while Michael was clutching two packets of Walkers Max Flame Grilled Steak crisps and a Yorkie bar.
Colin appeared sad and overwhelmed, while Michael looked haunted.
It seemed clear that neither was coping, and Rosie didn’t know why she was surprised. It was inevitable that she’d have to be the adult in this situation – though, for once, she didn’t resent it. She wanted to be the one who listened to the doctors, who made sure she and the rest of her family understood what was happening.
‘What do we know so far?’ she asked, addressing her father.
‘Not much,’ Colin replied. ‘It looks like a heart attack. They’re running tests.’
A heart attack?Rosie couldn’t help feeling a little awestruck by the terrible irony of this, which flew in the face of Julie’s certainty that staying thin was the only way to achieve health.
Michael motored through a packet of crisps as Colin sipped his tea, which Rosie now saw was the same unappetising colour as used washing-up water.
‘D’you want a square of chocolate, Rosie?’ Michael asked, to his sister’s amazement.
‘I thought Yorkie bars weren’t for girls?’ she said, referencing an old TV ad he’d quoted at her countless times when they were children.
Michael shrugged. ‘Have some if you want.’
‘I’m OK. Thanks, though.’
A tall, grey-haired doctor in green scrubs appeared before them, and asked, ‘Are you the family of Julie Butler?’
‘We are,’ Rosie told him.
Colin’s hands were shaking, and Michael had chocolate on his chin. Sensibly, the doctor focused his gaze on Rosie for a moment before turning to Colin and saying, ‘Lovely. I’m Dr Copeland. Would you like to follow me?’ Rosie understood that she needed to pay attention on behalf of her distraught father, who – quite understandably – might not remember everything that was said during the next few minutes.
At the doctor’s words, Michael began weeping. He turned to Rosie and moaned: ‘Are we being taken into a private room so he can give us bad news?’
Rosie couldn’t imagine the word ‘lovely’ would precede such a step, so she shook her head soothingly.
‘I’m sorry,’ the doctor said a second later, ‘I didn’t mean to alarm you. Mrs Butler’s in a room just up here – she’s sleeping peacefully.’
Michael howled all the louder at this, and Rosie was reminded of the time Lucas Hale, an older lad from their street, had accidentally run over Michael’s carelessly abandoned mountain bike in his Ford Ka.
They entered the room where her mother slept. Julie’s body was connected to various monitors that appeared to show she was comfortable. She looked tiny in the hospital bed, but even in these dire straits her glamorous shine hadn’t worn off. Her hands rested on top of her pale blue blanket, her long, almond-shaped nails gleamed bright red, and her diamond engagement and wedding rings were sparkling in the room’s harsh fluorescent light.
Rosie turned to Dr Copeland. ‘What do you know so far?’ she asked. ‘Was it a heart attack?’
‘It doesn’t seem so,’ he said. ‘We believe she has angina, which is a condition associated with severe chest pain. We’re awaiting a couple more test results which should confirm the diagnosis. Angina can forewarn that a heart attack or stroke is likely, however – so we tend to encourage patients to treat it as a wake-up call. An opportunity to reset and reconsider their health – explore whether there are ways they could improve it.’
‘I see,’ Rosie said. ‘And … will she be all right? Will she recover fully from this?’
‘I see no reason why she shouldn’t,’ Dr Copeland said. ‘Though I’d like to keep her here for a couple of days, and she’ll need a period of rest and recuperation at home after that.’
‘Understood,’ Rosie said.
‘I’ll leave you to spend some time with her, now,’ the doctor said, backing out of the room. ‘Someone will be by to check how she is shortly.’
Rosie looked at her father and brother, each of whom had taken one of Julie’s carefully manicured hands in theirs. She couldn’t help thinking that her mum’s ‘period of rest and recuperation’ would be a rude awakening for both of them – but she was determined to make sure Julie got it.
‘Did either of you bring anything for her when you came in earlier? Toiletries? Nightwear? No worries if you didn’t think of it, I probably wouldn’t have either.’
