Chapter 63
Poppy
A whole day passes before we feel able to move on to the next letter, even though it is cheerily marked as V is for Victory.
That letter – her last night in the cottage – destroyed us both. I know how guilty I feel, and know that Rose must feel the same. Mum had made her views on guilt very clear earlier on, but neither of us was at all capable of saying no to it after that. And I don’t think we deserved to.
The fact that we weren’t there with her wasn’t completely our fault. But the fact that she had been put in this position – unable to reach out to her own daughters – was.
I still don’t know how we would have reacted, if she had made that phone call. If we’d both been told that she was dying, and that she wanted us at home with her.
I like to think that we’d have both risen above our petty differences, called a truce for her last days – but I’m not 100 per cent sure we would.
More likely, we’d have faked it, badly, and she would have seen that, and it would all have been so much worse.
We’re a pair of absolute arseholes, and we are both right to be ashamed of our behaviour.
The one positive to come out of that letter, to come out of our mother’s anguish, was the way we reacted – the proof that her A–Z was working. That it hadn’t all been wasted, or meaningless, or insignificant.
In the middle of all that pain, all that guilt and regret, we had turned to each other, and we weren’t alone. I had Rose, and Rose had me. That much, Mum had achieved.
Drained and battered, we are now both ready for round 22, which comes with a mysterious package and a note. It’s another British mammal card – a darling deer, this time – and I can tell from the slightly clearer handwriting that she is feeling a lot better than she did when she wrote T and U.
I find myself stroking the cardboard, and sniffing the ink, as though I can somehow find a trace of her there. A trace that I can hug, and comfort, and care for. Because, right now, I am sick of thinking about myself, and even about Rose – I just want my mum.
I want my mum, so I can tell her how much I miss her, and how much I love her, and how very, very sorry I am that we all ran out of time.