Page 53 of The Bookshop By the Loch

“I’m sorry,” she blurted. “I’m not expressing myself very well.”

I noticed one of her hands abandon her handbag and fly to her throat. Her voice cracked and she paled. “It’s been rather a traumatic time.”

“Are you alright?” I asked her, concerned. “Would you like a glass of water or a cup of tea? I think you should sit down for a few moments.”

She shook her fringe. “No thank you, but that’s very kind of you.” She steadied herself. “I know this is going to sound rather odd, but please bear with me.”

Her next words tumbled out of her mouth in an excited, garbled rush. “I’m hoping that both of you might be able to help.”

“With what?” I asked.

She marshalled herself and shot Tobias and me an almost apologetic smile. “My elderly mother is growing very frail. She has advanced osteoporosis.”

Thoughts of my father entered my imagination. I glanced over at Tobias. “I’m so sorry to hear that.”

“Yes, that must be awful,” he added, his attention flitting backwards and forwards from me to the woman.

“Thank you,” she sniffed. “She’s eighty years old and a real character.” She toyed with the strap of her bag, blowing out a puff of air. “It started in her hip and spread from there. The doctors were talking about kyphoplasty – special surgery for vertebral compression fractures – but at her age, the risk of something going wrong increases. There’s always the threat that surgery like that could put pressure on surrounding bones and increase the chance of even more fractures.”

The woman straightened her shoulders. “She’s so no nonsense about it all, but she’s been through enough.”

My curiosity burned. Why did she want to speak to Tobias and me?

As if reading my mind, the woman composed herself again and explained. “There are things I know my mother always wanted to do but never had the opportunity. You’re both young, so you have plenty of time to make your dreams come true, but as you get older…” She regrouped. “Time runs away with you and you never stop to appreciate the things that really matter.”

Again, echoes of what my father had said earlier rang around my head. I forced back a pang of emotion as I recalled his begging to be heard and forgiven. How long did my father have left? I had no idea. How fast might he deteriorate?

He hadn’t presented me with a bucket list. Did he even have one? If he did, I wondered what was on it. It hit me that I’d no idea what his favourite band was or did he prefer Italian food to Chinese? The stark reality that he knew next to nothing about me either, my own father, slapped me in the face.

I forced more questions about my dad away and made myself concentrate on the lady in the pretty floral dress again. “That’s very true,” I managed with a smile. “We take so much of our lives for granted.”

Tobias gave me a long look, before turning his attention back to the woman. “So, madam, how can we help?”

She appreciated the books on the shelves and the alluring portraits again. “I know you must be so busy. I was just chatting to the lady who owns that lovely tea room up the street and she was talking in very complimentary tones about you both.”

She drew herself up. Her dark eyes were imploring, verging on desperate. “I’m sorry. I’m wittering on like an idiot.”

“Not at all,” I assured her. “It’s fine. Take your time.”

She took a breath. “You’re both being so kind and it’s much appreciated.”

I noticed her fingers knitting together on her lap. She swallowed and carried on. “The residential home where my mother is in Bracken Way is marvellous, but well, she’s becoming frailer and time isn’t on her side.”

The woman seemed to realise she hadn’t mentioned her name nor that of her mother in her urgency to explain. “I’m so sorry. I haven’t introduced myself. I’m Maeve Marshall. My mother is Celeste Matthews.”

Tobias and I introduced ourselves to her and encouraged her to carry on. She pushed out an embarrassed smile and continued. “Yes, of course. So, while I was sorting out a few of my mother’s things, I came across a sort of a bucket list.”

She gave her head a shake. “My mother is an amazing woman and has squeezed what I thought was a lot into her years but seemingly not as much as she would’ve hoped.”

Tobias smiled at Maeve. “She sounds a wonderful lady.”

“Oh, she is, but she can be a bit of a handful when she gets started.”

I let out a laugh. “Good for her! I hope I’m a bit of handful when I’m that age.”

Tobias gave me a look as if to say, “I suspect you could be a handful now,” but I focused on Maeve and didn’t acknowledge his charged glance.

“So, Ms Marshall, this bucket list of your mothers?” I asked, my curiosity rising.