I’d only rung her last Thursday. “Mum, is everything all right?” I asked, standing up.
“Well, how can it be? Your poor brother! And it’s not like we can get all the way over there every day for weeks on end, not with your father’s health—”
“Mum! What’s happened to Jay?” I was pacing round the living room by now. Mum often had this effect on me. Thank God we’d gone for the 80% wool carpet.
“What’s happened to James?” she repeated scathingly. “Really, Timothy, I do think you might make a bit more effort to keep in touch with what happens to your family. Blood is thicker than water, although I sometimes wonder if you’ve even heard the phrase—”
“Mum! Just tell me!” I half shouted down the line, cutting her off mid-flow.
There was a brief silence, punctuated by an alarming creak from the plastic case of my phone. I relaxed my grip a bit, although it took some effort. “There’s no need to be rude,” Mum complained. “Your brother had an accident with his skateboard.”
Jay’s thirty-one, in case you were wondering. Going on thirteen. “And?”
“He’s broken his femur. An unstable fracture, the doctors say. He’s almost certainly going to need surgery.”
The way she said it, you’d think it was my fault. “But he’s going to be okay?” I asked.
Mum sniffed. “Oh, you know doctors. Always telling you not to worry. That woman in the village surgery has never taken your father’s heart troubles seriously. Last time he went to see her, she sent him away with nothing but a couple of indigestion tablets! I don’t think they train them properly these days. That surgery’s never been the same since old Dr. Mallett left, not that anyone ever listens to me…”
She may, admittedly, have had a point there. I tuned her out with the ease of long practice and started making plans to drive down to Southampton next day.
It was only after I’d hung up I realised it hadn’t even occurred to me to mention my marriage had just ended.