Page 1 of Lost in Love
Chapter 1
Anna sprinted through the abbey gate and onto the main road through the village of Nunswick. She had planned out her lunch break meticulously between her two tours that morning.
A glance at her watch told her she had fifty-eight minutes left. Bang on time.
She passed the grand abbey house that lay beside the entrance to Nunswick Abbey and joined the high street, stepping into the road to avoid a meandering, elderly pedestrian.
Her dad’s doctor’s appointment was in thirteen minutes. She’d given him strict instructions that morning to be ready for her arrival. He wasn’t exactly known for his reliability, so she’d factored in a contingency to be safe.
An unwelcome pain kicked her in the abdomen. A stitch. Despite her best efforts to ignore it, she knew she’d have to take a breather, potentially throwing out her whole schedule. She made a mental note to knock twenty percent off her contingency time.
She slowed to a stop and bent over, panting; she blamed the years spent behind a desk in the city for her unfitness. She looked up; the garden gate down the road mocked her weakness. She stood up straight and forced herself towards it.
Another check of her watch told her that her dad would need to be ready to go. She pushed the gate open and almost crashed into the front door of the cottage.
As she scrambled with her key in the lock, the door opened. Her father greeted her, still in his slippers and cardigan.
“Dad, what did I tell you? I needed you to be ready,” Anna said between panting breaths.
“Sorry, love, I must have lost track of time,” he mumbled, looking around for his shoes.
“Two minutes, Dad,” she barked as she made her way into the small sitting room.
“I was watchingEscape to the Country. Lovely couple. Didn’t buy any of them, though.”
Anna placed her hands on his shoulder and made eye contact with him. “That’s great, Dad. I’m glad you enjoyed it, but…” She tapped at her watch.
“Oh, sorry, love. I know, you’re on your lunch break. Have you had anything to eat? I could make you a sandwich,” he said, turning towards the kitchen.
“I won’t have time and I told you not to touch anything sharp in the kitchen, remember?”
“Oh yes, of course.” He held up his shaking hands and moved them around in circles.
“Stop with the silliness, Dad. We need to go now.” She breathed heavily, trying to push away the knot she could feel twisting in her stomach. Planning the schedule had kept her mind off the fact that they’d be getting news on her dad’s health today. Now that was slipping, and she could feel the protective wall she’d built around her crumbling.
“Have you been to the toilet recently?” Anna continued, trying to refocus on the task at hand.
“Oh, yes, I think so,” he replied, with the look of someone who was clearly trying to recall the last time they went, remembering a time they did and then trying to work out if that was a memory from today or another day.
Anna guided him to his chair. As she put his shoes on, she reminded herself that she still needed to buy him some Velcro ones that he could put on himself.
During the seven weeks since she’d moved home, she’d realised that, with his increasingly shaky hands, laces were a difficulty for him. He’d initially put up a fight against her helping him but gave in when he tripped over a lace that had come undone.
As she knelt in front of her dad and finished tying his lace, she felt her eyes moisten. It always took her back to when she would sit on the bottom step of the stairs as a little girl and watch with fascination as her mum or dad tied her shoes.
She tied the laces far more efficiently than she had the first time; that had been a strange experience. Not just the physical tying of the laces effectively in reverse to what she was used to but the reversed roles; she was now the parent.
With shoes on, he was ready to take the slow walk over to the doctor’s surgery. That element of the job could not be rushed, and she had to walk at his speed. With every short step, though, she fought the urge to lift his small frame and carry him over the road.
They arrived at the surgery with one minute to spare. Anna almost gave herself a celebratory slap on the back but reminded herself that, unless she was back at work on the hour, there was no praise to be had. With timing in doctor’s surgeries a law unto itself, everything was still left to play for.
Anna left her father to find a seat whilst she queued at reception. It was a stark contrast to her previous surgery in the city where you acknowledged your arrival on a touch screen. She used the moment to try and calm her nerves, taking deep breaths in but muted breaths out for fear of upsetting the person in front of her.
It had been on a visit four months ago that she realised her dad’s health wasn’t what it had been. He had markedly slowed down, beyond that what ageing would do to a healthy person. His speech, thoughts, and movements had changed, and a shaking in his hand had confirmed her suspicions that, neurologically, all was not well. She had chastised herself for not visiting more often. Life had taken over as it always seemed to.
Her girlfriend at the time, Jessica, hated the countryside and spent most evenings clubbing. There wasn’t a club within fifty miles of Nunswick, and the village only had one pub, which was mainly frequented by the over-fifties. Jessica was a few years younger than herself, and Anna couldn’t blame her for holding on to her youth, but she had found herself struggling to keep up with her.
Following the realisation that she would need to be in Nunswick more regularly, if not full time, Anna decided that there was no future for them beyond the city. She packed in her much-loved job as a researcher at the National Archives, broke up with Jessica, and moved back home. She chalked the break-up up to experience and decided if she would date again, she would need someone older and wiser, ideally more on her level.
