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“Thanks, Mai, but I think Isaac and I need to spend a bit of time together. I was thinking movie and popcorn.”
Isaac’s been strange since the weekend. I was expecting him to be excited to go to school and see his new best buddy Bailey, but he’s been unenthusiastic about everything, especially me. He’s spent more time watching telly with his semi-coherent nan than he has with me.
That’s going to change this weekend.
“Okay, you know where we are if your popcorn night turns into a disaster. You know, the last time I tried to have a night like that with Bailey, he played on his iPad the whole way through, and then had the cheek to ask if he’d earned his pocket money by spending time with me.”
Hmm. I have a sneaky suspicion this will be the culmination of my Friday night too.
“Anyway.” Dani puts her cup down in its saucer with a clatter. “Hadn’t you better go and get ready for the school run?”
I look at her in confusion. “Nope, school run’s hours away.”
“Okay.” She smirks and makes a show of tidying the cups onto the tray. “Just so long as you’re sure. Did you actually brush your hair this morning?”
I pull on the tangled end of my ponytail. I didn’t have time to do anything this morning, and then we came straight out for coffee. “Nope. I had a bad night with Mum and then overslept.”
They both look at me sympathetically, all teasing evaporated. “What are you going to do?” Mai leans over and gives me a little pat on my hand.
A burst of air escapes out of my lips. “I don’t know. It’s night terrors or something. She’s okay during the day, but then at night-time she goes nuts. Last night she scared Isaac pretty bad.”
Mum’s screaming at night is so bad. Before it was just whimpering, but now it’s full-on screaming and shouting, and if you try to help her or settle her she lashes out. It’s frightening for me, let alone Isaac.
"You’re going to have to get some help if she keeps on deteriorating this quickly,” Dani points out.
I scowl at Dani. “I am the help, remember? That’s why I came home.”
“Yeah, but come on, Amber, it’s far worse than you thought it would be.”
“She’s my mother!”
“Yeah, I know. I remember how she used to be with you. And your dad.” Dani is defiant and we glare at each other across the table, neither one of us backing down.
“Okay,” Mai interrupts our stare-down. “I suggest taking her to the doctor; find out what they are expecting the next steps to be.”
Nodding, I agree with her. “I will, next week.” But I know in my head it’s going to be difficult to even get her there. She doesn’t leave the house willingly; only accidentally when she’s confused and doesn’t know where she’s going, or what she’s doing. Two mornings ago, I found her raking leaves in the garden wearing only her bra and knickers.
I’m sure she’s too young for her dementia to be this bad, but her symptoms are erratic and hard to predict. The doctor who tracked me down and ‘suggested’ I come home to help, did not paint a clear picture of what was happening at all.
“Okay, I must go and get some food in before I get Isaac,” I say, pushing out of the leather sofa I’ve become wedged in.
They both wave me off, neither of them looking like they are in a rush to be anywhere. I feel a little stab of jealousy when I see how well they get on as sisters-in-law who happen to be friends too.
The door is swinging open in my hand, drafting me with fresh air when Dani calls, “Don’t forget to brush your hair,” loudly and starts to laugh.
I pull a face and head out into the autumnal sunshine.
Brushingmy hair is the last thing on my mind as I screech the car near the school gates. I’ve gone around the block twice looking for a space and can’t find one for love nor money. I’m late. The supermarket was full of old people dawdling, and then the damn car refused to start. Finally, I had to get a guy to jump it in the car park which gave me the right hump.
I wait, blocking the road while a woman gets her two kids into her giant 4x4. Tapping my fingers against the steering wheel, I mutter some choice phrases until she’s vacated the space for me to zoom into.
Once I’ve slammed out of the car, I give the side panel a hearty kick. “You piece of shit,” I mutter, cursing as I turn to lock the pile of rust. Other mums leaving the school steer their children away from me as I continue to swear under my breath and try to get the damn key into the lock. The remote button stopped working years ago after Isaac dropped it down the toilet.
Looking up, the first thing I notice is a pair of long legs crossed at the ankles. They lead to a tidy jean clad butt leant against an old truck. Freddy watches me with his arms folded across his chest, his lips twitching and his eyes dancing.
My hair!
I waltz past him into the school. “Don’t say anything,” I growl.
He holds his hands up in surrender and falls into step at my side. “Not saying anything. Nothing at all.”
