Chapter 30
30
Georgia released a mournful wail and dropped to her knees beside Dad. I pressed my hand to my mouth, my heart pounding, goose bumps breaking out over my body.
‘Call an ambulance,’ Mark said, pressing his phone into my hand. ‘Put it on speaker.’
Gulping, I dialled 999 while he calmly took control of the situation, encouraging Georgia and Dad to release Mum. As I ran through the details with the emergency call handler, the three of them lifted Mum off the bed and laid her on the floor so Mark could commence CPR. As a first aider on the Mountain Rescue Team, he knew what he was doing.
I felt so helpless as I hovered in the doorway holding the phone out in front of me. My eyes were fixed on Mum but my head was back in Noah’s room as two paramedics checked his body for vital signs and looked up at me with sad expressions. One of them spoke to me but I’d been that shocked I hadn’t heard any of the words as I’d sagged against Flynn.
This time, it was Georgia sagging against me. Feeling her shaking, I slipped my arm round her waist. It would be fine. Mark knew what he was doing and the call handler had told us there was a first responder in the area who’d be with us in minutes.
‘I’ll go down to the bottom of the drive to watch for them,’ I said, pressing Mark’s phone into Georgia’s hand. Every second was precious and I didn’t want to risk the first responder driving past because they couldn’t see the house names in the dark.
Minutes later, I spotted the marked car and guided the first responder onto the drive then into Mum and Dad’s bedroom with his defibrillator, but it was already too late and no amount of shocking was going to restart Mum’s heart.
‘I’m very sorry,’ he said as he closed Mum’s eyes.
Georgia ran from the bedroom. Mark placed a reassuring hand on Dad’s back before going after her. My heart broke for my dad, standing there staring down at his beloved wife, eyes wide, head shaking, no doubt wondering how he was ever going to cope without her. My heart broke for my lovely mum, taken from us far too soon. For my sister whose cries I could hear from the lounge. For her grandchildren who adored her, her great-grandchildren who wouldn’t get a chance to know her. And for me and the lost years.
‘I know it’s a difficult time, but I need to ask some questions about June’s medical history,’ the paramedic said. He’d introduced himself when he arrived but I hadn’t taken it in. As he packed his equipment away, I spotted the name Ben on his uniform.
‘Is there somewhere you’d rather go to answer them?’ Ben asked.
‘I don’t want to leave her,’ Dad said, his voice shaky.
‘I understand. Would you like me to help you lift June back onto the bed?’
Dad nodded and the pair of them lifted Mum. There was a woollen blanket draped over the back of her dressing table chair so I placed that gently over her body. Dad sat down next to Mum and held her hand. I turned away, blinking back tears. I wanted to be strong for Dad just now. The tears could come later.
An ambulance arrived while Ben was asking questions so he broke off to have a conversation with the crew outside before bringing them through to the bedroom. Dad asked us if we could wait in the lounge while he answered some questions about Mum’s medical history.
Mum’s death, like Noah’s, was classed as unexpected but, because of her age and whatever Dad had shared about her medical history, we were advised that there was no need for the police to attend and we were free to contact a funeral director. Trenham & Sons Funeral Directors had handled everything with dignity and respect when Noah passed so there was no question mark over using them again. Mark made the call and reported that they’d be with us within three-quarters of an hour. The ambulance crew and Ben waited until they arrived.
It was past midnight when Frankie Trenham and two of his sons left to take Mum to their chapel of rest. With Dad’s permission, Georgia and Mark went back inside to put fresh linen on the bed and I stood on the doorstep with him watching one of Frankie’s sons pull off the drive and out of sight.
‘I can’t believe that’s June in there.’ Dad’s voice cracked mid-sentence, the later words coming out as a whisper.
I couldn’t believe it either and I couldn’t get any words out over the lump in my throat so I slipped my hand into his and we stood together staring into the darkness. How had the evening ended like this? Mum hadn’t been feeling her best at the party but she’d still been laughing and joking. How could she have gone from that to being on her way to the chapel of rest?
‘That must have been hard for you,’ Dad said after a while.
‘It was hard for all of us.’
‘I mean after Noah.’
‘Lots of difficult memories,’ I admitted. ‘Not something I ever wanted to go through again, but I’m glad I was there and you didn’t have to face it alone. I’m so sorry, Dad.’
He sighed heavily. ‘It feels like a bad dream. One minute, I have this sense that I’m hovering overhead watching it happening to someone else and the next minute it hits me that it’s happening to me.’
It was cold on the doorstep but I sensed Dad needed to stay a little longer.
‘She loved this view,’ he said, eventually. ‘Not that we can see far right now. I remember us coming to view the house. It was a beautiful spring day and June was heavily pregnant with you. We stood right here, facing out to the lake before we knocked and she said, I don’t care how dated it is inside or how much work needs doing, this is the place and we’re going to be so happy here. ’
‘And you were,’ I said, squeezing his hand.
‘We certainly were. I’m not sure how I feel about staying here long-term without her. She wanted me to, but I don’t know if I can.’
‘There’s no rush to make any decisions like that, Dad. When the time’s right for you, Georgia and I will be here to support you, whatever you decide.’
We went back inside and closed the door as Georgia and Mark appeared from the bedroom. Georgia’s eyes and nose were red – something which always happened to her when she cried – so she’d clearly had another moment while she was away from Dad. I knew she’d jump into practical mode around him as the changing of the bedding had already shown.
‘Mark needs to get home as he’s got an early start at work tomorrow but I’d like to stay if that’s okay with you, Dad.’
‘Me too,’ I said.
I thought he’d object, saying there was nothing we could do and we should go home and get some sleep, but he nodded slowly. ‘The company would be appreciated.’
Before Mark left, we debated whether to tell Keira and Regan but it felt too late to ring them. The news could wait until the morning, especially as Keira and Johnnie were already facing disrupted sleep from Arlo’s arrival and we didn’t want to exacerbate that.
‘I keep going over it all in my mind and I still think I should have checked on her earlier,’ Dad said after Mark had gone.
‘You can’t think like that, Dad,’ Georgia said. ‘You heard what the paramedics said.’
Dad had berated himself earlier and the medical team had been full of reassurances that he mustn’t beat himself up because it could just as easily have happened in the middle of the night when he was right beside her but asleep. They also said that, if it had been a cardiac arrest as suspected, she’d have been unconscious and not felt a thing. It was a small sliver of comfort in a dire situation.
‘If it helps, I had the same thoughts when Noah died,’ I said. ‘I heard him coming home from the party. I’d been awake for a while and I thought about wishing him a happy new year and asking if he’d had a good time, but it was all warm and cosy under the duvet so I stayed where I was. The next day, I toyed with going in and waking him up but he hated it when I did that, especially when he’d been out till the early hours, so I left it. The thing is, if I had checked on him, what would have happened? The odds of me going into his room at the exact moment when he was in trouble were miniscule and, even if I had, could I have saved him? Could Flynn? If you had checked on Mum, you’d have likely found her asleep and left her in peace, or it would have already been too late. Please don’t take on the blame for this because it can take you to some seriously dark places. Believe me, I know.’
‘When did you stop blaming yourself?’ Dad asked.
‘Honestly? Just now when I said that.’
Dad’s eyes widened. ‘Oh, Mel. You’ve really blamed yourself for all these years?’
I nodded. ‘For that and for so much more. I don’t want to make this about me, but take it from someone who’s been there that if you have medical professionals telling you there’s nothing you could have done, then there really is nothing you could have done. Don’t torment yourself thinking otherwise.’
The three of us stayed up talking for the next hour or so before Dad announced that he was flagging. He wasn’t convinced he’d manage to sleep but he felt like he should try as the week ahead was going to be difficult with people to notify and arrangements to be made. Georgia and I said we’d help with as much as we could so he needn’t worry about having everything to tackle on his own.
Georgia released a long sigh after we heard Dad’s bedroom door close. ‘That was horrific. I can’t believe she’s gone. Poor Dad. I don’t…’
But her emotions prevented her from finishing the sentence. I rushed over to her and held her and stroked her hair as she cried. I wished I could cry too. I wanted to but the tears wouldn’t come. Maybe it was the shock and it would catch up with me later when I was on my own.
It took a while for Georgia’s tears to subside but, when they did, I fetched her a glass of water and a cold, damp flannel to place over her sore eyes.
‘I’ve been thinking about what Mum said when they left the party,’ she said, removing the flannel from her eyes after a few minutes. ‘She’s never told me she loves me before. Do you think it’s possible she somehow knew?’
‘I was thinking the same thing myself. They never told me the outcome of any of her tests either – kept saying there was nothing conclusive – but I’m wondering if they were stalling for time. Did they tell you anything?’
‘No – just kept saying Mum needed more tests. Makes me wonder if they’d discovered it was her heart that was the problem.’
‘It’s possible,’ I said, nodding. ‘When we were outside, Dad said he wasn’t sure if he could stay here without Mum but that she wanted him to. They could have been having end-of-life conversations on the back of whatever they’d found out.’
‘But why not tell us? They told us about the breast cancer scare.’
‘Not at the time. I only found out because I turned up on appointment day. It’s possible they’d never have said anything but I put them under pressure so it came out.’
Georgia sighed. ‘You could be right, although why tell you about the funny turn at the hospital if they wanted to keep us in the dark?’
‘Maybe they weren’t expecting it to be anything serious. It’s probably not helpful speculating. I’m sure it’ll come out across the week.’ I ran my hands down my face, feeling drained. ‘I’m going to try for some sleep. There’ll be a lot to do tomorrow.’
‘Yeah, I should probably try too.’
We stood up and hugged each other once more before heading off to our former bedrooms. I sat on the edge of my bed, my head dipped. The last time I’d stayed in this room had been the night before I left for Newcastle. I never imagined that the next time I stayed would be the night my mum died. As a wave of deep sadness swept through me, I closed my eyes tightly, expecting the tears to fall, but they didn’t. My eyes burned but they remained dry. I had to still be in shock. Maybe tomorrow.