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‘Stubborn, independent—same difference...’ I attempt a nonchalant shrug, a sad smile, and I surrender to the need to touch him, to comfort him, to share this moment...especially when I can only guess at how rare it might be. I cover his hand with my own, feel him flinch. But he doesn’t break away and I tell him with all the feeling I can muster, ‘She loved you, though.’
His eyes reach inside mine, and a thousand shadows chase across his face. ‘It appears she loved us both.’
Did she?‘I guess...’
‘You guess?’
I look away from his surprise. Of course he won’t understand. How can he when I haven’t explained myself? I think back to that God-awful phone call a few weeks ago, when Mr McAllister rang me and informed me of her death. Out of the blue. No warning. Nothing.
‘I was so angry, Edward. Not when I learned of her death—not then. I was shocked, grief-stricken... But when I learned that she’d been sick, that she’d known she was going to—to—’ I swallow down the tears. ‘That she didn’t have much time left. How could she take away my chance to say goodbye? Why didn’t she want me to come back? Why didn’t she want me here? I would have come—I would have. She should’ve known that.’
He covers my hand on his. ‘Maybe she didn’t want your last words to be filled with pain.’
I drag my eyes back to his. ‘Like yours were?’
He nods, and in that moment the bond, the connection, is undeniable. The years fall away without the hurt, the distance, and the defensive walls we’ve erected since.
‘How—how was she?’
‘Towards the end?’
I nod, and he surprises me with the smallest of smiles. ‘Fierce.’
‘Fierce?’ I mirror his smile and he nods again.
‘Like you wouldn’t believe. Mind over matter, they say, and she was that through and through, refusing to bend to the illness. But that last fortnight she shrank. She grew tired. She wanted—she wanted it over.’
‘And you were with her?’
‘As much as possible. It’s the reason for the helipad.’
I frown, and he gestures around us. ‘I invested in all this when I found out she was sick. I could get to her quicker...more often.’
And I’d been thinking it was just a way of splashing his cash. I feel a stab of guilt and squeeze his fingers. ‘I’m so glad she had you.’
Not just your mother, I want to say, but I don’t. I can’t imagine she will have changed much in all the years I’ve been away.
‘Me too.’
We fall silent, our eyes connected, the mood in the cabin heavy with our grief, our newfound understanding...
There’s so much I want to say. So much I want to do. I want to wrap my arms around him, hold him close, absorb his pain like my own.
‘Sir?’
I start as the pilot’s voice breaks through the headset.
‘We’re coming in to land.’
Edward looks at me—a look I can’t decipher.
‘Thank you, Angus.’
He withdraws from my touch.
‘You should check out the view. You’ve never seen Glenrobin from this angle.’
Slowly, I do as he suggests, my head and heart slow to shift focus. I should be grateful for the timely interruption. Should be, but I’m not.
