Page 36 of The Shape of Your Heart
‘Is he going to be OK?’ She sounds shocked.
‘I haven’t spoken to a doctor yet. I’ll try to find one when I go back in. They’ve done an ECG but they’re going to do more tests.’
‘Keep me posted, won’t you?’ She sounds anxious. ‘I’d come over but I have a client due any minute.’
‘Don’t worry. I’ll call you later on.’
Ending the call, I stand there for a moment. The sky is pale, the sound of passing traffic relentless. The morning in Nathan’s garden feels a world away. My father has always seemed invincible, but as I know too well, none of us are.
It seems unfathomable how quickly so much has changed. But as I know from experience, it can happen to anyone. When I go back into the hospital, there’s a doctor with my parents. After introducing herself, she explains that they’ll be keeping him in; that the next forty-eight hours are critical.
‘I’d really rather go home,’ my father says stubbornly.
‘Dad, I think you’d better do what they say. Hopefully you won’t be in here for long,’ I say gently, trying to hide how frightened I feel. Glancing at my mother, taking in the paleness of her face, I realise how scared she is, too. ‘Mum? Maybe later on, I could drive you home to pick up some things for Dad?’
Her eyes widen. ‘I hadn’t even thought about getting home. I came in the ambulance with your father.’
I’d guessed as much. ‘That’s OK. We can go together.’
* * *
A couple of hours later, I persuade her to leave Dad for a while and as we walk out to my car, she’s silent. Only as we’re driving away does she let on how worried she is.
‘I mean, I know we’re not getting any younger. And none of us go on for ever. I suppose you never expect something like this to happen.’
‘No. But at least he’s getting the care he needs,’ I try to reassure her. ‘They said they were keeping him in for a few days… With any luck, he’ll be home after that.’
‘But life’s going to have to change a bit. They were talking about cutting down on alcohol and eating healthily – he isn’t going to like that too much.’ She pauses. ‘Thank God he doesn’t smoke.’
‘One thing at a time, Mum. The hospital will give him all the info he needs.’
She turns to me suddenly. ‘I’m so sorry, Callie. I know how difficult this must be for you.’
I shake my head. ‘No more than for any of us.’
‘Confronting your mortality is pretty brutal, isn’t it?’ Her voice wavers.
‘I know.’ I’m just coming through an entire savage year of it. Just then, my mobile buzzes. I pass it to my mother. ‘It’s Alice. Can you talk to her?’
* * *
Back at my childhood home, I let the dogs out into the garden while my mother goes upstairs and gathers some things together. The air is cool, the birdsong vibrant, as for a moment I contemplate a world without my father in it before pushing the thought away. He’s going to be OK. He has to be.
For the next couple of days, I drive my mother to the hospital, staying with them, scrutinising him for signs of change, relieved when slowly the colour comes back to his skin.
The second evening, Sasha comes to visit. When she walks in, I can see from her face how worried she is.
‘I wish I could stay,’ she says anxiously.
‘You mustn’t worry,’ my dad says. ‘I’m going to be out of here before too long – everything will go back to how it used to be.’
Sasha glances at me, then at Mum. ‘I don’t think it’s quite that simple – I mean, you’re going to have to make some changes, aren’t you?’
‘We’ll see.’ My parents exchange glances, before my mother says, ‘Don’t you two worry yourselves. And you can tell your sisters I have everything in hand.’ Her voice is reassuringly firm, the way it always is when she makes up her mind about something.
* * *
After booking some leave, Rita promises to come down at the weekend for a few days. But Alice is unable to get away from work, though she has been in contact with his doctor here. She’s also given my mother pages of information on what to expect when Dad comes home, as I count my lucky stars that we are all able to support each other; that my parents aren’t going through this alone.
