Chapter 22
JUDITH
I’ve had a bad night, tossing and turning restlessly.
It felt like I had some kind of fever. Images flash in my mind.
Alison holding a glass of water for me, George wiping my forehead with a cool flannel.
And something else, it’s at the back of my mind, lurking, but I can’t grab it.
I’m sure it’s important but it’s no use, it’s eluding me. Maybe it was just a dream.
I lie still to get a sense of how I’m feeling before I try to get out of bed. My stomach seems to have settled, but I feel weak, and my mouth is dry.
I can hear movement and then the door opens and, to my surprise, Sheila walks in, holding a mug in her hand.
‘Morning, dear, how are you feeling today?’
What on earth is she doing here?
My surprise must be evident because she smiles. ‘Alison had to go out for a bit, so she asked me to stay with you. She was worried about leaving you alone. She said that you picked up some sort of tummy bug and went dizzy again last night.’
‘Has Lizzie been? She said she was popping in when she dropped the kids off to school.’ I’d been looking forward to seeing her. George’s family are being kind but I miss the familiar company of my daughter and grandchildren.
‘She phoned and as you were still asleep I took the liberty of answering, I hope that’s all right. She said that she had to work this morning so would drop by later.’
‘Yes, thank you. And for the tea. I’m feeling a lot better but my head aches,’ I tell her.
Sheila crosses the room and puts the mug down on the bedside table.
‘I’m not surprised. Alison said that you’ve had a bad night.
Tossing, turning and calling out.’ She props a pillow behind my back.
‘She came down to check on you because she was worried you might get out of bed to go to the loo and go dizzy again.’
‘I had a couple of bad dreams. I feel so guilty at how much I’m putting on Alison, when I barely know her. She must be wishing George had never met me!’
‘Nonsense! We are all delighted that you and George have got together. Mind, George is very worried about you, the poor lamb. He didn’t want to go into work today but I said I’d take the train over and sit with you.
Kenny’s going to pick me up later.’ Sheila points to the mug she’s just brought in.
‘I could see that you were stirring so I’ve made you a cup of tea.
Alison said you like one when you wake.’
‘Thank you.’ I try to sit myself up but I can’t. It’s like my bones have turned to jelly and I have no control over my movements.
‘Here, let me help you.’ Sheila helps me sit up and props the pillows behind me for support. ‘You really have been in the wars lately, haven’t you?’
I wonder where Alison has gone but I don’t like to ask, she’s entitled to her privacy.
Sheila hands me the cup of tea. ‘Drink this up. You’re probably a bit dehydrated now. I’ve put some sugar in it to give you energy.’
‘Thank you. You’re all so kind.’ Tears fill my eyes at the care George, Alison and now Sheila have shown to me.
I’ve barely been in the family five minutes but they’ve all taken me under their wings.
It really is kind of them. Lizzie and Nick are doing their best to help too.
And it’s all my fault, being so clumsy as to fall down the stairs.
I could have broken my neck. And I’ve ruined everything.
We should have been in Prague, but instead everyone is running around looking after me.
You went dizzy and fell. There was nothing you could do, I remind myself. Now stop feeling sorry for yourself!
I’m not used to feeling like this. I’ve always been a strong woman. I’ve had to be, what with Lizzie being how she is, and then Arthur dying suddenly, and in such a dreadful way too.
‘Do you think you can manage a bit of food?’ Sheila asks. ‘A lightly boiled egg and toast maybe?’
Actually, I do feel hungry, I could manage an egg today. ‘Thank you. I’d appreciate that,’ I reply.
She goes out to the kitchen, leaving me to sip my tea.
It’s cooled enough to drink now and soothes my dry throat.
I wrap my hands around the mug and drink it slowly.
As soon as I’ve finished it I’m going to have a shower, get dressed and put on some makeup.
I’m determined not to be an invalid. I’m stronger than this. I’m a fighter. I always have been.
I put my empty cup back on the bedside table then my eyes rest on a black pen lying there.
I stare at it, my mind swimming as a memory springs into it.
Someone holding the pen out to me, wanting me to write something but I can hardly hold the pen.
What was it? Who was it? I remember the feeling that I had when I woke up, that something important was lurking at the back of my mind. If only I could remember it.
Sheila returns a few minutes later with a tray holding two plates of toast and two partly shelled eggs in egg cups. ‘Tuck in,’ she says, placing one on my lap, and I realise how hungry I am. I need to build myself up then I’ll get stronger.
‘This is so kind of you, thank you,’ I say.
‘No problem, you’re family now and we all look after each other.’ She sits down on the chair and tucks into her egg.
‘You’re all very close, aren’t you?’ I remark.
‘We are. When poor Carol died George moved to Gloucester so I could help him with the children. We’re a unit, us four.’ She takes a bite out of her toast.
George never talks about Carol’s death, all I know is that it was because of some kind of allergic reaction. ‘Past is past, no point going over it,’ he said, so I never pushed him for information. Now though, I’m curious.
‘Yes, it was a real tragedy, wasn’t it? So devastating for you all.’
Sheila pauses, spoon in hand about to scoop into her egg again. ‘The thing is, Carol wasn’t supposed to be going on the school trip that day. Another mum had to drop out so she stepped in at the last minute. If she hadn’t, she’d still be with us.’
A school trip? Surely it couldn’t be… ‘Goodness, that is awful. George said she had a bad allergic reaction to something?’
‘Peanuts. She always avoided them but one of the kids on that trip must have had them in their lunchbox. I guess Carol thought she’d be safe as they were eating outside. She collapsed in front of Kenny and Alison. Poor Alison ran for her EpiPen but didn’t get it in time.’
I force my voice to stay calm as I ask, ‘Where were they?’
When Sheila tells me the name of the park and the year, my fears are confirmed.
George’s wife is the woman who died on Lizzie’s school trip when she was seven.
If Lizzie learns about this, it could bring her trauma back. I can’t let her find out and be plunged back into that darkness again.