Page 19 of Teacakes & Tangos
‘I’ve been so anxious about your dad, wondering if he was all right,’ she said, following me into the kitchen. ‘I haven’t been able to sleep properly for thinking about him. Such a brave man. And of course when I phoned the hospital, they wouldn’t give me any information because I’m not family. So all I know is that he... well, he survived what happened.’
I nodded. ‘He did, thank goodness. Although he’s been in a coma ever since.’
Minnie gasped in horror and grabbed the back of a chair to steady herself.
‘Sit down, sit down,’ I urged, pulling out another chair for her and guiding her over to it.
She sank down with a little sigh. ‘Thank you, dear. I just feel so guilty about it all. Seeing him being driven away in the ambulance and then not knowing anything after that – not even his name – has been just terrible. As I said, I haven’t been able to sleep for thinking about him.’
‘You must have given your family a terrible shock,’ I murmured, sitting down beside her.
She nodded. Then she gave me a watery smile. ‘Although my grandson, who’s a bit of a joker, said a bump on the head was probably just what I needed to knock some sense into me.’ Drawing a hanky from the sleeve of her cardigan, she dabbed at her eyes. ‘He’s been really worried about me, though.’
‘I bet he has.’ I pressed her hand gently and stood up to put the kettle on. ‘Apologies for not being dressed but I’ve only just woken up.’
‘Oh, no. Did I wake you?’ Minnie looked alarmed.
‘No, it’s fine,’ I said quickly. ‘I think I slept for twelve hours straight, which is quite enough sleep for anyone. In fact, I’m gladyou came because I’ll need to get back to the hospital and if you hadn’t rung the bell, I might still have been asleep at lunchtime.’
‘Maybe I should leave you to get ready?’ She made to get up. ‘I really just wanted to tell you how sorry I am for what happened and ask if there’s anything I can do to help.’
‘No, stay, Minnie. Please.’ I touched her shoulder and she sank back down. ‘I need some caffeine before I can even think about getting ready to go back to the hospital.’ I grinned at her. ‘It’s coffee for me. What can I get you?’
‘A cup of tea would be lovely, thank you.’
As I made the drinks, she asked, ‘Are you close to your father?’
I smiled. ‘Very. It’s been just him and me since Mum died five years ago. I... don’t know what I’d do without him.’
Minnie nodded. ‘Same for me. I lost my mother when I was eight, so it was just my father and me when I was growing up.’
‘It must have been hard, losing her when you were so young.’
‘It was. But my father did a great job of bringing me up on his own.’ She gazed into the distance, a wistful expression on her face. Then she smiled at me. ‘Are you close to your father?’
‘Er . . . yes. Yes, I am.’
She gave a sentimental sigh. ‘Fathers and daughters.’
It turned out, as we sat talking, that Minnie was a member of the local Women’s Institute, and she’d finally found out from one of her friends the identity of her rescuer. The woman, who was called Sylvia, had been running the Little Duck Pond Café years ago when Mum used to pop in for coffee now and again. Sylvia had known where we lived and had been able to point Minnie in the right direction.
‘I just found out yesterday so I decided to come straight over this morning.’ She took a sip of her tea and I noticed her hand trembled as she placed the cup back in the saucer. ‘I can’t believe he’s in a coma, poor man. And what about you? How are you feeling?’
‘Oh, you know.’ I shrugged miserably. ‘Terrified I’m going to lose him. Disbelief that it even happened – especially when things were starting to look up for him. He had a bad back injury that’s meant he hasn’t been able to work for the past six months, but he looked to be on the mend.’ I shrugged uselessly. ‘I was made redundant recently so I’ve been trying to get another job. I had a promising interview last week so I was feeling quite positive about the future.’ I smiled sadly. ‘But now, I’ve no idea what’s going to happen.’
‘Oh, dear. And it’s all my fault.’
‘Minnie, no. Of course it isn’t your fault. That horrible man knocked you into the road, so he’s to blame for what happened, not you.’ I pressed her hand. ‘I’m just really glad you’re okay and I know Dad would be, too.’ I attempted a smile. ‘I just need him to wake up and then it will all seem like a bad dream.’
She nodded firmly. ‘He will wake up. I’m sure of it.’
‘Me, too. Apart from his back, he’s always been strong and healthy. If anyone can survive this, Dad can.’ I smiled. ‘He’ll be awake and pestering me to start dating again before I know it! His current concern is me finding a boyfriend.’
‘Are you close to your father?’ she asked again.
‘I am.’ I returned her warm smile, my heart going out to this lovely woman who’d been so concerned about dad, she’d been determined to track me down so she could find out how he was doing.
We both cocked our ears as the post came through the letterbox. And as I went through to collect it – there were two letters lying on the doormat – I wondered if Minnie was perhaps in the early stages of dementia. I’d had first-hand experience of that cruel condition, having watched my lovely gran going through it, forgetting she’d already asked the same question several times.
