Chapter 25
The sun beams down overhead as Phoebe pulls up outside Number 1 Magnolia Street, the tyres of her motorbike crunching on the gravel. She knocks confidently on the door, turning for a second to enjoy the feeling of the sun on her face. The wisteria that covers the fa?ade of the house is in full bloom and from here she can see the gate that leads through to the garden. Hopefully, Camilla has been spending time out there again, the way she used to with her husband. Perhaps she’s out there right now, Phoebe thinks to herself as she steps back from the door, looking around her. When there’s still no answer, she knocks again, louder this time.
She’s about to reach for her phone to try calling when Arabella answers the door. She is dressed just as neatly as before, today in cropped indigo jeans, ballet pumps and a cream blouse.
‘Hello! I was starting to think no one was in,’ Phoebe says brightly, but then she sees Arabella’s expression. ‘Is everything OK?’
Arabella rubs her eyes and Phoebe notices that she looks even more tired than yesterday, regardless of her pristine outfit and make-up.
‘Today isn’t a good day.’
Phoebe’s heart sinks.
‘I’m sorry to hear that.’ She tries to hide the disappointment from her voice. She takes a steadying breath, finding that inner strength that she knows her patients and their families need from her. ‘I’ll have a chat with her and see what we can do to improve things for her. Where is she?’
She looks around, hoping to catch a glimpse of Camilla maybe having breakfast downstairs in the kitchen or even through the French doors pottering about outside.
‘Upstairs. She hasn’t left the room since your last visit.’
The words hit her hard. She thinks back to the message she received from Camilla and how pleased she’d been that she’d made such quick progress, going for a run so soon after their appointment. But maybe she should have seen through it, or at least questioned it. But it had been so nice to receive some positive news for a change.
‘I know my way, I can head on up,’ Phoebe says, pulling off her boots and leaving her things on the telephone seat like before.
Arabella nods, sighing. But as Phoebe is about to head up the stairs, she speaks again.
‘Would you like a cup of tea?’
‘I’m OK, but thanks for asking. I’ll let you know if we need anything. You go have a rest.’
Arabella nods. ‘OK, I think I will. Thank you. I’m glad you’re here.’
It’s not much, but Phoebe holds on tightly to those words as she heads through the old house towards Camilla’s bedroom.
The door is ajar and she taps lightly. When no response comes, she says in a clear voice, ‘It’s Phoebe here – Nurse Harrison. I’m coming in, OK?’
The room is mostly in darkness, a single beam of sunlight forcing its way in through a gap between the curtains. There’s a stale atmosphere, the air musty and heavy. If sadness had a smell, this would be it. Camilla Ramsgate is curled up in the bed, this time on her side facing away from the doorway.
‘Hello, Camilla.’
She doesn’t reply.
‘I’m going to open the curtains, OK?’
Light streams into the room, illuminating flecks of dust. Arabella’s sleeping bag is still curled up on the chaise longue and there’s a plate of untouched toast on the bedside table, alongside a cup of what Phoebe guesses must be cold tea.
‘I’m going to get you a glass of water.’
She takes an empty glass from the bedside table and heads into the en suite. While she’s there, she scans the room for telltale signs, spotting bottles of pills lined up by the sink.
‘I think it would be good to try to drink something,’ she says once she’s back at Camilla’s bedside. She crouches down beside the older woman, whose eyes have a glassy, empty look to them. It’s as though she’s somewhere else completely. ‘Can you drink some of this for me, please, Camilla?’
Silently, Camilla pulls herself to sitting, so slowly that it’s as though even that movement is too much to manage. While she drinks, Phoebe takes her pulse and blood pressure, noting them down.
‘I’m sorry I lied to you.’
Camilla’s voice comes out as a croak, making Phoebe think it’s maybe a while since she last spoke.
‘You don’t have to apologise to me.’
‘I was going to go. I found my old trainers.’ Camilla nods in the direction of the dressing table and Phoebe spots a pair of trainers arranged neatly beneath, a folded pair of leggings on the chair. There’s something about the sight of them there, so hopeful in a room that feels so tired and sad, that breaks her heart a little bit. But she works hard to keep her expression neutral.
‘What stopped you?’
Camilla puts down the glass of water, her eyes flicking to the photographs on the bedside table. She looks even more shrunken than the first time they met and Phoebe makes a note to tell Arabella about some high-calorie shakes she could get if Camilla isn’t feeling like eating.
‘Our conversation last time reminded me how much I used to enjoy running. The thought of going again … I was actually looking forward to it.’
‘Well, that’s a great start,’ Phoebe says enthusiastically. When someone is struggling with depression, showing an interest in anything is a big step. But Camilla’s eyes shine as she blinks back tears.
‘The thought of running again … It made me happy. I realised I hadn’t felt happy once since Teddy died.’
Phoebe listens carefully, trying hard to hear what is really being said between Camilla’s words.
‘And how did it make you feel, to feel happy again?’
The tears fall faster now, Camilla letting them drip onto the quilt.
‘Terrible. How can I possibly feel happy when he’s gone? To be happy without him … That means I’m moving on.’
Phoebe reaches out for Camilla’s hand. The older woman lets her take it.
‘And you don’t feel ready to move on?’
Camilla shakes her head.
‘I know what I told you before … That I want to get better for my daughter. And I do. She deserves that. But …’ She trails off, wiping her face with the sleeve of her silk pyjamas.
‘Have you been taking your medication?’ Phoebe asks softly, thinking of the pill bottles she saw in the bathroom. They were all full.
Camilla bites her lip.
‘You’ve caught me out.’
A glimmer of life returns to Camilla’s eyes and Phoebe holds onto it, letting it give her hope. Something has to.
‘You deserve to feel happy, Camilla. Do you really think this is what Teddy would want for you? It sounds as though he loved you very much. I think he would want you to find happiness again. Isn’t that what you would want for him if the situation were reversed?’
‘Of course!’
‘Moving on doesn’t mean that you didn’t love him. Or that you have to stop loving him.’
Camilla doesn’t say anything, but Phoebe can tell that she’s thinking.
‘Would you let me give you your medication? I really think it could help you.’
Camilla nods, allowing Phoebe to do what she needs to do without complaint. It’s a first step at least. Phoebe holds her hand the whole time.
By the time Phoebe leaves, Camilla is up and dressed, having a cup of tea in the kitchen with Arabella. She told Phoebe she didn’t feel up to going out into the garden, but together they decided that ditching the pyjamas and getting out of that room could be a first step. Arabella seems relieved, flapping about her mother, fetching her a cushion and pouring the tea.
‘Thank you,’ she says to her as she shows Phoebe to the door.
‘You’re welcome. I’m just doing my job. I’ll see you both again soon, OK?’
She tries her best to feel heartened as she shuts the door to Number 1 Magnolia Street. Maybe the appointment hadn’t gone how she had hoped, but at least Camilla had taken a small step. But it’s hard not to feel thrown, especially after the brightness of her morning and her hopes for Camilla. It’s disappointing and part of her wonders if it’s her fault. Did she push Camilla too far by encouraging her to go running? Should she have started with smaller steps first? And will she ever be able to help show Camilla that life is worth living even now that her husband is gone? The weight of responsibility presses down on her. She doesn’t want to let Camilla down, or Arabella either.
As she’s about to set off, her phone rings in her pocket.
‘Hello, is this Nurse Harrison? This is Sergeant Halifax. Do you think you could come down to the station? We have a woman here who is asking after you. I believe she is one of your patients. Oh, and you might want to bring some clothes.’