Chapter 29
TWENTY-NINE
I’m about to get ready for bed, when I hear my mobile phone ringing. It’s Mum.
‘Hi, Mum,’ I say breezily.
‘Is that you, Erin? It’s Douglas here.’
My heart begins to pound. Has something happened to Mum?
‘Hi, Douglas, is everything okay?’ I ask, worried.
‘Well, I don’t want you to panic, love, but your mum has had a fall.’
I immediately start to panic.
‘It looks like she might have broken her ankle. I’m at the hospital with her now and she is being checked out,’ he informs me.
‘Oh no! Is she okay? How did it happen?’ I ask, imagining her ice skating and losing her footing – or doing something equally unsuitable for a woman of her years. ‘Is she in pain?’ I fire a hundred questions at him.
‘Her pain is under control,’ he assures me. ‘She was standing on a chair, getting something from a top cupboard in the kitchen. She took a bit of a tumble.’
‘A chair. Doesn’t she have a small stepladder?’
‘In the garage apparently. Good job I arrived when I did,’ says Douglas. ‘When she never answered the door, I looked through the kitchen window, and there she was, on the floor. Luckily it had only just happened.’
I try not to think of her lying there in agony and trying to drag herself to a phone.
‘Anyway. I’ll put her on in a minute. I’ve just been for a coffee. I’m waiting for her to come out of X-ray.’
Reality hits me hard as I realise my mum, despite her adventurous outlook, is getting on in years.
Is this really the right time for me to think about starting a new life in Greece?
Especially as I am an only child? It isn’t like nipping half a mile across town to check on her if anything happens.
Maybe Douglas ought to have a key to the house.
‘Oh, she is here now, love, I’ll put you on the camera,’ he says.
‘Mum, hi, how are you?’ I ask, concerned. She is sitting in a wheelchair, although I am relieved to see that she looks quite well and has colour in her cheeks.
‘I’m alright now that the painkillers have kicked in.
’ She smiles. ‘I have just come out of X-ray and thankfully my ankle isn’t broken, just badly sprained and blown up like a balloon.
The doctor said I must have strong bones.
It must be all the milk I drank as a child.
’ She manages another smile. ‘Still do actually.’
‘Oh, Mum, thank goodness you’re okay.’ I breathe a sigh of relief. ‘Although you will have to take things easy for a while.’
I am surprised that she agrees. ‘I know, love, maybe it is a gentle reminder to slow down a little. I shan’t be climbing on chairs again. Don’t worry,’ she assures me. ‘To think I’ve done all kinds of adventurous things lately, and I go and injure myself falling off a chair.’
She asks me all about how things are going here in Greece and tells me she will come for that visit in early October, assuming her ankle is all better.
‘Maybe a gentle holiday would be in order, and I promise no jet skiing.’ She grins.
‘Oh, Mum, that would be lovely. Let me know the exact dates and I will look into booking the hotel. In the meantime, are you going to be okay?’
‘Of course I will. Douglas has said he will stay over for a while until I am fully on my feet.’
‘That’s good. Thanks, Douglas,’ I say and he raises his coffee cup.
‘Not a problem.’
I feel reassured by his presence.
‘Really, don’t you worry about me,’ Mum says firmly.
‘I am made of strong stuff; even the doctor said so. I am proud of you setting off on a new adventure and I’m enjoying the photo updates of the café,’ she says.
‘Live your life; it goes by far too quickly. That is something I can say with certainty.’
I feel comforted hearing Douglas will be staying over and looking after Mum. Her comments soothe me, yet I still can’t shake a feeling of guilt that I am all the way over here when she needs me most.