Dubrovnik
Walking off the ferry without Obi, Natali felt as though she was missing an arm, and it unnerved her almost as much as the fact that Baka’s son had said he’d meet her to drive her to the hospital.
In one way she was grateful: it was a forty-minute walk up the hill to Lapad, and not only was it incredibly hot, it would also give her so little time with Baka before she had to start back to catch the return ferry to ?ipan.
On the other hand, she had absolutely no idea how to fill the minutes in the car with this stranger.
She could only hope he’d do all the talking, but he would, at the very least, require answers.
And how would she find him in the first place?
How was she supposed to remember what he looked like from the photos in Baka’s living room? This was beyond awful.
At the bottom of the gangplank, she stepped to one side to scan the quay, the hum of the ferry’s engines subsiding behind her.
There, near a scrappy hedge a few metres away, was a man in a crisp navy polo shirt holding a piece of paper with her name on.
Hidden by the crowd, she stood for just long enough to take him in.
He was a bit younger than Lloyd, she reckoned, but his head was almost bald, although he boasted a neatly trimmed beard.
And he wasn’t smiling. But who would be, with their mother so ill in hospital?
Natali edged sideways out of the throng. For Baka, she could do this.
“Hello Mr Valenti?. I’m N-Natali.” Damn. She’d almost got through that without stuttering too.
He held out his hand, which was cool to the touch. “Call me Mateo, please. I am sure my mother would wish it.”
“How is she?”
“I will tell you in the car. I am afraid I parked rather precariously so I’m anxious to get back before there are too many blowing horns.”
Natali followed him from the quay and down the tree-lined street. Cars and buses crawled along as usual, belching fumes into the stifling afternoon. Mateo led her to a navy-blue SUV and held the passenger door open for her to climb in.
As soon as he had negotiated the vehicle away from the kerb and into the crawling traffic, he thanked her again for how quickly she’d acted on Monday.
“The medics say she’d be in a much worse position if no one had found her for hours.”
“I knew something wasn’t right as soon as she d-didn’t meet the ferry, but it wasn’t only me. I was j-just the one who was free to go to look for her.”
“It has always been a comfort to me that she has the community around her. Especially with her mind beginning to go.”
“I think…” No, perhaps it wasn’t for her to say.
“Go on,” he prompted, glancing at her with dark eyes which suddenly looked so like Baka’s.
Natali shook her head. “You’re her son. You know her b-better than I do.”
“You have seen her more often these last weeks, though.” He sighed. “It is just too busy in the restaurant this time of year for me to get away, although of course now this has happened I regret it.”
“Her memory … it is only V-Valentin. Otherwise she seems fine to me. We were cooking together last week and she knew perfectly well what to do. No need for recipes.”
“I’m afraid that might be different going forwards. Following the stroke, she’s very … confused, shall we say. She thinks I’m still courting my wife, and we’ve been married for twenty years and have two daughters. She might not know you at all, Natali. You need to be ready for that.”
“Thank you for warning me.” Natali wound her hands together in her lap.
“But that is not a big problem. I am fond of your mother, but I have not known her for long, so I s-suppose it is to be expected.” Being instantly forgettable was part and parcel of her life, and generally it was a very good thing.
But right at this moment, it didn’t feel that way.
“She thinks a lot of you too. She talks about you and your dog when we speak on the phone. I have to admit that I was a little concerned about your intentions, but your actions on Monday … and now that we’ve met I can see you have an honest face.
In the restaurant trade you learn to spot crooked people very quickly. ”
“If you are worried, I have good references.”
For the first time he laughed, and it was a warmer sound than Natali had expected. “I am not trying to employ you.” There was silence while he negotiated the junction at the end of the harbour. “And I have no wish to offend you, either.”
“You haven’t. This must be a very stressful time.”
“It will mean changes. Big ones. Even if Mama recovers well, I can’t see her being able to return to that house, so she will need to come and live with me in Split. The girls will have to share a bedroom, and they won’t like it, but it is what it is. They need to learn about family duty.”
“B-but will your mother want to l-leave Kolo?ep? Meeting the ferries…” Natali trailed to a halt. Valentin had been this man’s brother. The loss of him must have left a gap in his life too.
“We will all need to make adjustments.”
They had reached the hospital car park, so Natali jumped out and looked around her.
She had never come here before – had never needed to, thank goodness – and she had no idea what to expect.
The layers of white concrete glowed in the sun between lines of black windows, but the landscape around the building was softened by trees.
Once he had locked the car, Natali followed Mateo up a shaded path to an entrance with a café to one side, its bright umbrellas lending a dash of cheer to this frightening place.
It was blessedly cool inside and they walked down corridor after corridor then up two flights of stairs before arriving at a ward.
Mateo stopped. “Ready?”
Natali nodded.
“Then here we go.”
She followed him across the room, then through the curtains which surrounded Baka’s bed.
She stopped, unable to bring herself to move any closer.
Seeing Baka attached to so many bleeping and buzzing machines, with wires and plastic tubes everywhere, was horrible and her mouth went dry.
Perhaps Mateo was right; Baka wouldn’t recognise her, and even though she’d tried to sound brave in the car, how that would feel if it happened she didn’t quite know.
But this wasn’t about her, it was about Baka. Natali stood up straighter.
Hold that thought, stay positive, and everything would be fine.
At least Baka’s eyes were closed and her face, although still a little twisted on one side, looked peaceful.
“Mama.” Mateo spoke gently. “Mama, Natali’s here to see you.”
After a few moments, Baka opened her eyes, the right one drooping a little. She focused on Natali then shook her head from side to side, trying to form a word, which sounded a little like “Obitelj”.
“No, Mama, Natali’s not family, she’s a friend.”
“My d-dog’s called Obi,” Natali told him. “She must have remembered what it’s short for.” A huge lump filled her throat, but she swallowed it back down. This was so not the moment.
Mateo nodded. “That’s promising. Come, sit next to her.” He moved the plastic chair at the side of the bed so it was facing his mother, and Natali slid onto it.
“So, Baka,” she said, “Obi’s not here because she had to stay on the boat. She isn’t allowed in the hospital.”
Baka moved her lips, and Natali thought the word trying to escape was “hospital”. Actually, if you listened and watched closely, her speech wasn’t all that difficult to make out, and clearly Mateo had realised this too.
“Yes, you’re in hospital, Mama. After your stroke.”
Baka swallowed, gathering the next word carefully. “Valentin?”
When Mateo said nothing, Natali spoke. “You don’t need to worry about him. When he arrives, the men on the harbour will tell him where you are, I’m sure of it.”
“You … make soparnik?”
Unsure exactly what Baka meant, Natali patted her hand. “You need to rest and get well, not worry about other people. Everything will be fine.”
Glancing across at Mateo she knew it was probably the most awful lie, but what else could she say?