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“Before what?”
I struggle to voice the stark words out loud so settle for a slightly different phrasing. “While she’s still here. She’s ill, she hasn’t long, and I just…I want to see her. To say goodbye.”
“That may not be possible,” he begins.
He does appear genuinely sorry, to be fair, but that’s no use to me.
“You have to. Youhaveto,” I yell. “This is cruel. Heartless. Don’t you have a mother yourself?”
“Not anymore,” he replies. A flicker of what could be true regret crosses his handsome features. “Would it help if I let you phone yours?”
I stare at him. “You’d do that?”
He glances at his watch. “It’s not seven o’clock yet. Might be a bit early to phone her, but I can—”
“No. The hospice has staff there twenty-four-seven. They’d answer, and I could ask them how she is. If she’s still…still…”
He relents. “Okay. What’s this place called?”
“Willowfield,” I reply. “It’s in Cambridge.”
“Do you know the number?”
I shake my head. “I did write it down, and it’s in my phone, but…”
“No problem.” He Googles the hospice, finds the number, and presses ‘call’.
I can hear the ringing tone from where I am, and I know when it’s picked up. Jack passes the phone to me.
“Behave,” he mouths. “No screaming for help.”
I nod. It never occurred to me. I just want news of my mum.
“This is Ruth Lowison. I was wondering how my mum is. Esther Lowison.”
“Let me just check for you.” The voice is cool, efficient. “Can I take some more details?”
I’m quizzed about my mother’s date of birth, her home address, my relationship to her, and who is her next of kin. Those hurdles successfully leaped, she goes on to inform me that my mother is ‘comfortable’ and stable.
“I see from the nursing notes that she’s looking forward to seeing you, Miss Lowison. Do you have plans to visit anytime soon?”
“I…yes. That is, I want to and I’ll be there as soon as I can.” I hesitate over my next question, but I have to ask. “How long do you think…?”
The nurse on the other end is cautious. “There’s no way to tell, but I don’t think you should leave it much longer. A few days, perhaps.”
Oh God.I sink onto the bed. “So soon?” I whisper.
“These things are difficult to predict,” she replies, infusing a practiced gentleness into her tone, “but yes. It will be quite soon.”
“But she’s comfortable? Not in any pain?” I grasp for any shred of comfort.
“We’ll make sure of that, Miss Lowison. She’s in good hands, I can promise you that.”
“Thank you,” I whisper. “I know she is.” I chose the absolute best and that’s what I’m paying for. “It’s just… I’ll be there. Soon. Please tell her that.”
“Of course.”
Jack is waiting. He doesn’t hassle me, but I’m conscious of his presence. “I have to go. I…I’ll phone again, when I can.”
