Chapter 2
Lucy looked at the clock ticking on the wall, watching the hands as they slowly inched forward.
She turned to her younger sister, who looked pale and exhausted on the other side of their grandmother’s bed.
They had been sitting here since the early hours of the morning after Elizabeth’s breathing had become so laboured that they had been forced to call Dr Kerridge out.
When he had finished checking her over, he had beckoned them out of the room and told them in a grave tone, perfected after years of doing this job, that he didn’t think she would last much longer.
He then called the local primary care team, who sent a nurse in to help with pain relief to keep her comfortable.
Elizabeth had since lost consciousness and her pulse was weak.
‘Where the hell is she?’ Lucy asked.
‘I’m sure she’ll be here soon,’ Faith reassured her. ‘She said she was in Limerick when I last spoke to her.’
‘That was ages ago. She should be here by now.’
‘She said the traffic was bad. Maybe I should call her again, just in case…’
Faith stood up and stepped outside the room. She dialled her mother’s number and was greeted with her voicemail: ‘Hello, this is Madeleine Brennan, please leave a message, or else my assistant Linda is available on 01-2899932.’
She hung up and returned to the room.
‘Her phone is off.’ Faith sighed. ‘I hope nothing has happened to her.’
‘She probably hasn’t even left Dublin yet, knowing her,’ Lucy sniped.
Faith’s face fell. ‘You don’t think she’d lie to us, do you?’
‘Of course not,’ Lucy hastened to reassure her, even though she knew anything was possible with their mother.
She thought back to her graduation day: their mother had promised she would be there, only to come tearing into the auditorium just as the provost was delivering her closing words.
She had missed the whole ceremony. Their mother always had something to blame; if it wasn’t the traffic, it was the weather or her car had broken down.
She had so many excuses that the girls didn’t believe them any more.
The only thing their mother had ever made time for was her job.
They both looked lovingly at their grandmother.
She had always been there for them, the one constant in their lives.
Elizabeth had provided the stability they had needed growing up.
Her home had been the solace and sanctuary they had craved when their mother had been too busy for them.
Their grandmother had shown them love through her hearty stews, her nourishing leek and potato soup with homemade Guinness bread, and her apple tart, which was like a warm hug after a tough day.
Faith gently took her grandmother’s frail hand in hers.
It was blue-veined and mottled with age spots.
The old woman’s breathing was faint, but every so often she would gasp and her chest would rattle.
It reminded Faith of when they had run around the cottage when they were younger and had banged off the kitchen dresser, shaking the bone china tea set that Elizabeth displayed behind the glass.
Just then the bedroom door was pushed open and Noleen, the nurse, returned to the room carrying two steaming mugs.
‘Is your mother nearly here?’ she asked gently.
Lucy glanced at her sister. ‘We thought she’d be here by now,’ she admitted. ‘But she says she’s on her way.’
‘Well, I’m keeping an ear out for a car so hopefully she’s close now. I thought you could use a cup of tea,’ she said kindly, handing them a mug each.
‘You’re an angel, thank you,’ Lucy said, shivering in the cool evening air.
As Noleen carried out her checks on Elizabeth, Lucy looked around the room with its floral wallpaper and dark mahogany furniture.
Elizabeth’s little trinkets stood on her bedside table, including her jewellery box and the notebook where she kept track of her appointments and lists.
It was unbearable to think that this woman who was so full of life, was soon going to leave them.
How would they survive in a world without their grandmother?
The bond that most people had with their mother, the girls had shared with their grandmother.
They had spent all their school holidays here in her seaside cottage: on the first day of the school holidays their mother would strap them into the back seat of her car and they would leave Dublin behind.
As soon as they saw the gorse-topped hills and the twinkling Atlantic in the distance, giddiness and excitement would take over.
They knew they would have two months of glorious bliss in Inishbeg Cove, safe in the bosom of their grandmother’s love.
The arrangement had suited everyone: Madeleine got to continue with her work, knowing her children were taken care of for the summer holidays, while Elizabeth had loved mothering her granddaughters, taking the opportunity to fatten them up with her homemade food.
The girls had loved the freedom of the village and swimming in the sun-soaked cove every day, while making friends with the local children.
They had grown to hate the chill in the air when August came round, with its darker evenings and they knew their magical summer was drawing to a close for another year.
They would cry the whole way back to Dublin.
Once settled back in school, they would write letters to their Inishbeg Cove friends, making plans for the next time they saw each other.
The sisters had taken every opportunity they could to come to the village, whether it was during midterm break or at Halloween or for two weeks during the Easter holidays.
The only time their mother accompanied them was at Christmas, and the girls knew that was only because her office was closed and she had nowhere else to go.
When Elizabeth’s health had taken a turn for the worse in recent months, Faith had quit her job in Dublin and moved into the cottage to care for her grandmother and take her to her hospital appointments.
Then Lucy had left her husband, Kyle, in Dublin two weeks ago, taking advantage of being able to work remotely to join her sister in caring for their sickly grandmother.
As they came to accept that Elizabeth’s days were numbered, the sisters hadn’t thought twice about dropping everything to take care of their Nanna; Elizabeth had provided a sanctuary for them growing up, a place where they had always felt loved, and they wanted to do the same for her in her final days.