Page 108 of The Bookshop By the Loch

Joy shook her head sadly. “Her heart is weakening.” She hesitated. “I’m afraid it isn’t months. Doctor Jenkins told us that it’s weeks at best. I’m so sorry.”

The silence was deafening, as the three of us tried to absorb this.

I was determined to hold it together in front of Maeve. The last thing she needed, was me dissolving into tears. I sunk my teeth into my bottom lip.

All at once, Tobias slid one hand down to mine and held it. The sensation and surprise of his warm, paint-gnarled fingers searching out mine made me want to sob.

My dad. Now Celeste. And I couldn’t do a thing to stop it. I gazed across at Maeve, who was struggling to keep herself composed.

I hoped I could keep my voice on an even keel. “I suppose we just have to make sure she’s as comfortable and content as she can be.”

Tobias nodded his head. “I’ve put the finishing touches to her portrait and am having it framed for her now, so it should be ready any time to present to her.”

A sudden burst of gratitude shone out of Maeve’s lost expression. “Thank you.” She looked bewildered again, stumbling around in her own private thoughts. “Do you think that letter from Corinne did have something to do with her taking ill like that?”

“The contents must’ve upset her, but there’s no way to know whether it triggered Celeste’s collapse or whether it was just a case of bad timing,” commented Joy beside her.

Maeve’s mouth set into a hard line. “I can’t leave things like this. Dr Jenkins’s prognosis has made that clear. I can’t just sit here, do nothing and watch her wither away.”

“So, what are you thinking?” I asked.

Maeve straightened her back. She flicked away a tear. “I suggest we go and talk to Corinne face-to-face. We have to try and make her change her mind about seeing Mum. You heard the doctor. She doesn’t have much time left.”

My brows rose in surprise. “Do you think it might work? That reply she sent to Celeste; you said it was very abrupt.”

“It was, but Corinne didn’t know about Mum’s condition.”

A niggle of worry took hold. “But Celeste made us swear we wouldn’t tell her.”

A long, low breath shot out of Maeve. “I still think that was a bad mistake. I know you did too.”

“But you want to try to speak to her?” asked Tobias.

Maeve nodded, as a couple of other residents ambled past. “Ok, Corinne is saying she doesn’t want anything to do with Mum, but if we don’t give it one more try, Mum is going to pass away and I’ll be sitting there wondering if I tried to do enough to reunite them.”

She snapped her pleading gaze back to me. “This might be the last chance for Mum and Corinne to say hello and goodbye to one another.” She gulped. “I know I’d regret it if I don’t at least try.” Maeve pinned me to the spot with her pleasing expression. “What do you think, Lexie? Are you in?”

I mulled over in my mind what Maeve had said. Celeste had weeks, not months. Time was running out. If this had been my mother in this dreadful position, I knew I would be thinking the same as Maeve. “If we do this, we shouldn’t tell Celeste. If Corinne refuses to speak to us, that really will be it.”

“I agree. So?”

I looked over at Joy in her pale blue carer’s uniform. She shrugged. “It sounds to me like you’ve nothing to lose by trying to speak to her.”

Maeve glanced at Tobias, who nodded in agreement. “Celeste always took chances in life, I’m guessing?”

Maeve’s grief-tinged face lit up for a few seconds. “And then some.”

“Right,” I exclaimed. “I think we’ve just made our decision.”

Chapter Thirty-Five

Maeve and I agreed to travel to Corinne’s house on Sunday afternoon.

She pulled up outside my flat, looking summery yet assertive in a poppy-printed ankle-length dress and fitted red jacket.

I’d opted for something in a similar vein, but my dress was a floaty, hemmed lilac number that buttoned up the front. I had teamed it with my purple ballet pumps.

“Have you been to see Celeste this morning?” I asked Maeve, as she negotiated us away from Bracken Way and towards the north side of Glasgow, where Corinne lived.