Chapter Sixty-Six
‘He’s done what?’ screeched Freya.
‘Broken a hip,’ I repeated.
I was now belting along the M20. Outside lane. Speedometer nudging ninety. I mentally kept my fingers crossed that a cop wasn’t about. That was the last thing I needed on top of this evening’s events.
‘So what’s happening?’ asked Freya.
‘I’m on my way over to the parents’ house. The paramedic asked me to sort out a bag for Dad and to reassure Mum. One of their neighbours is currently with her.’
A pigeon swooped low across the carriageway. I squeezed the brakes just as the bird shot upwards. As it did so, a volley of crap pebble-dashed the windscreen.
‘Ah, well,’ said Freya. ‘It sounds like you have everything under control.’
I frowned. Toggled the windscreen wipers and water jets.
‘But that’s just it,’ I said breathlessly. ‘Things aren’t under control. Far from it. I need to get to the hospital, so if you could drive up and see to Mum–’
‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ scoffed Freya.
‘What do you mean?’ I asked.
‘You’ll have to take Mum with you.’
‘To Darent Valley?’ My brow furrowed. ‘You want me to take a confused old lady into hospital while I stay with Dad?’
‘That’s the gist of it,’ said Freya. ‘What’s the problem?’
‘The problem’ – I said through clenched teeth – ‘is that I don’t feel able to manage Dad and Mum together. You forget that Mum is physically disabled. What am I meant to do? Say, “Come on, Mum. Keep up!” as I race after a porter trolleying Dad along a corridor.’
‘Then put Mum in a wheelchair.’ There was a shrug to Freya’s voice.
For a moment I was so angry I couldn’t speak.
‘Freya,’ I said, forcing myself to speak calmly. ‘Realistically, by the time Dad is seen by a doctor, many hours will have passed. It’s already gone seven o’clock. It will likely be the early hours of the morning before Dad is admitted to a ward. If not later. How does that work for our mother?’
‘Take a pillow with you. She can kip in the wheelchair.’
Enough was enough. I took a deep breath.
‘I’m asking you to drive up and stay overnight with Mum while I stay with Dad. His memory issues aren’t as bad as Mum’s, but nonetheless he’s confused himself. He needs one of us there with him.’
‘No,’ said Freya stubbornly. I could picture her at the other end of the line. Vehemently shaking her head. ‘I have work tomorrow, Maggie.’
‘Me too,’ I pointed out. ‘I have a bride to oversee tomorrow afternoon.’
‘The afternoon,’ she pointed out. ‘That means, when you get home from the hospital, you can sleep in. I wouldn’t have that luxury,’ she sniffed. ‘I will be up with the sparrows and squashed into a train with all the other stressed-out commuters.’
‘Freya, please,’ I implored. ‘I need your help.’
When my sister next spoke, her voice was like a pistol shot.
‘Maggie. I don’t think you understand. I cannot – repeat cannot – babysit our mother. Comprendez? Not tonight. Not tomorrow. Not the day after. What I can do’ – her tone became conciliatory – ‘is get on the phone, and ring some care homes. See if I can find one that is prepared to take Mum as an emergency. How’s that?’
‘Thanks, Freya,’ I said. ‘But don’t put yourself out.’
My sarcasm went straight over her head.
‘Are you sure? It’s not a problem.’ She was now all gushing effusiveness. Delighted to be off the hook. ‘After all, I appreciate you’re in a bit of a pickle, but I’m more than happy to help.’
Happy to help? Freya’s assistance was as much use as a chocolate teapot.
‘It’s fine,’ I said. ‘I’ll sort things out.’
‘Okay, as long as you’re sure,’ she replied, all concern now. ‘And don’t forget to keep me updated.’
I gnashed my teeth.
‘Of course,’ I said sweetly.
I ended the call. Quietly seethed as the car left the motorway. Tried not to chomp my crowns down to my gums as I headed up the slip road. Let out a few expletives as the car stopped at a red light.
My fingers drummed upon the steering wheel as I reflected over Freya’s idea of help – ringing a few care homes on a Sunday night. It would be like Mary’s Joseph calling at all the inns and being turned away. And then I inhaled sharply. Because my sister’s words had given me an idea.