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My eyes scurry to find the bedroom door, and I hope for someone to come. My mother or the nurse. Someone. Anyone. Seconds tick by in painfully slow motion. No one comes. I’m too afraid to move away from Nana to seek help. As if I don’t trust her to keep breathing if I pull my hand off her chest. I crane my neck and tilt my head towards the door. I can hear my family in the kitchen. Teacups clatter ever so gently and I suspect my mother is washing up, yet again. She’ll wash the pattern off the crockery if she keeps it up.
I slide my shaking hand into my pocket and pull out my phone again. Nate’s phone rings out and goes to his voicemail, but I hang up without leaving a message. I’m not sure what I would have said even if he had answered. I exhale sharply and call Ben’s mobile. I hear a single ring before I pull my phone away from my ear to concentrate on the pounding of Ben’s feet as he flies up the stairs.
He rushes through Nana’s bedroom door within seconds, and I smile with relief at just seeing him.
‘Jesus Christ, Holly. What’s Nana doing lying flat?’ he barks, rushing towards me. ‘She shouldn’t be flat like that.’ He pushes past between me and the edge of the bed, forcing my hand away from Nana’s chest.
‘She slipped down,’ I explain. ‘And then she didn’t seem comfortable.’
Ben slides his arm behind Nana’s shoulders and lifts her gently. She gasps at the sudden change of position, and with her eyes still closed, she drags air loudly in through her gaping mouth. Ben tosses his head over his shoulder and glares at the pillows on the chair beside us.
‘Put those back,’ he insists. ‘She needs to be upright. She can’t breathe properly otherwise.’
Guilt swirls in the pit of my stomach, and I gather all the pillows in one swoop. I slide them behind Nana’s head and shoulders as Ben cradles her upper body in his strong arms.
‘There,’ I whimper. ‘I put them back. They’re all back.’
Ben gently lowers Nana against the refreshed mound, and a subtle half-smile lights up her weary face.
‘What the hell, Holly?’ Ben says, turning around to stare at me. ‘The pillows aren’t piled like that for the craic. Why on earth did you move them? That was really dangerous. How long has she been lying flat like that?’
‘I… I…’ I stutter, hoping I won’t cry. ‘I dunno. Just a few minutes. I’m sorry. I didn’t know. I thought she’d be more comfortable lying down.’
Ben’s eyes wander to the mound of paper I’ve left resting on the end of the bed, and he shakes his head.
‘I know you’re happy you found Nana’s book, Holly,’ he says. ‘But you need to pay more attention to the important stuff. When the nurse isn’t here it’s up to us to make sure Nana is safe and not in any pain.’
‘I know. I know,’ I say, defending myself.
‘Well, don’t you think that’s what you should have discussed with Marcy last night? Nana’s care. Not some stupid book that none of us even knew existed.’
‘It’s not stupid,’ I snap. ‘Reading it is making Nana happy.’
Ben rolls his eyes and walks around the far side of the bed to fetch a black metal cylinder.
‘What’s that?’ I ask.
‘Nana’s oxygen,’ Ben sighs, clearly disappointed that I had to ask. ‘She needs this.’
Ben fiddles with the dials, and content everything is in order, he untangles the thin clear tubing that’s wrapped around the cylinder and feeds into the top. The other end of the tubing is a loop, and Ben slides it over Nana’s head, fixes it behind her ears, and settles it comfortably under her nose.
‘There,’ he says triumphantly. ‘She’ll be okay now.’
‘Okay, good.’ I exhale so sharply I make myself dizzy.
‘I’m sorry.’ Ben softens, his shoulders rounding and the twisted lines across his forehead relaxing. ‘I didn’t mean to bite your head off. I just got a fright.’
‘S’okay,’ I reply with a shrug. ‘I should learn this stuff; you’re right.’ I tilt my head towards the oxygen cylinder. ‘Maybe you could show me?’
‘Yeah, maybe later. But I think you should go downstairs and get a cup of tea or something now,’ Ben suggests. ‘You’ve been in here for ages, and you look exhausted.’
I shake my head.
‘I’ll stay with her,’ Ben promises. ‘Seriously, Holly. You don’t look well. Anyway, I think Mam could use your company. She’s struggling.’
Ben flops into the chair and leans his elbows on the edge of the bed. He slips his fingers around Nana’s, and her hand looks like a wilting flower against his strong young skin.
‘Holly, seriously,’ Ben reiterates. ‘I’m worried about you. Take a break.’
