Page 83 of The Shape of Your Heart
A couple of minutes later the nurse comes back. ‘They’re going to check you out in the morning. If everything’s OK, you’ll be free to go.’
Glancing at Robin, I turn to the nurse. ‘Couldn’t I stay with my sister?’
Robin squeezes my hand. ‘It’s only one night. Just do what they say, OK? And get some rest. I want my big brother back healthy and strong. I’ll come and pick you up tomorrow.’
As I lie in bed that night, I have a sense of déjà vu as I recall the weeks leading up to my surgery, then the recovery that followed. It was a surreal time, during which I never imagined getting any quality of life back. But as I recovered and grew stronger, not only did I start to feel well again, slowly I became aware of a sense of hope coming back. As more months passed, it was a time that slipped into the background, life returning almost to normal again.
So much has happened since: buying my house, then the land; working on my garden and meeting Callie. And maybe after major surgery, it’s been too much. But it’s ironic, too, that this setback has happened now, just when I’ve decided to streamline my life. Maybe more streamlining is required – and less pressure on myself. I’m not in a hurry with anything. I’m just not used to slowing down.
My thoughts are confirmed when a doctor checks me over the following morning.
‘Take it easy for a while. Moderate exercise is good, but nothing too strenuous. You should see your GP in a couple of weeks, just to check your blood pressure. It’s fine this morning. There really shouldn’t be anything for you to worry about.’
‘You’re sure?’ Beside me, Robin’s face is anxious.
‘He’s fit to go.’ The doctor’s eyes linger on Robin.
‘Thanks doc.’ Getting up and picking up my overnight bag, I look at Robin. ‘Let’s get out of here.’
31
CALLIE
The week before Sasha and I leave for Spain, I pack my rucksack and get the house ready for Tanith and her boys. True to her word, she comes over one afternoon so that I can show her everything.
Her dark eyes are shining as she takes in the house. ‘This is heaven,’ she declares.
‘It’s quite cosy,’ I tell her. ‘Though when it’s cold, you’ll probably need to light the wood burner.’
‘The boys are going to love it here.’
‘The beach is only about fifteen minutes away. Now,’ I open the doors to the garden, ‘pay attention, please. This is the important part.’ I lead her to the cold frame. ‘These pots are sweet peas – or at least, they will be. And these others…’ I point to the neat rows of pots sown with various flower and vegetable seeds. ‘Please, please can you remember to water them? Everything else…’ I glance across the flower beds. ‘They’ll be fine as long as there’s some rain – which let’s face it, there’s going to be plenty. After all, this is Cornwall… It’s all going to start coming to life while I’m away. It’ll be very pretty – so just enjoy.’
* * *
When I go to see my parents, I get a strange feeling as I turn into the familiar driveway and park near the house. I stand for a moment, casting my eyes over the large windows, the stone walls and solid timbers, the wooden door through which so many people have passed, knowing this might be the last time I come here.
It would be easy to feel sad. But it’s one of those times in life when things are changing – and will go on changing, because nothing stands still. Taking a deep breath, I go around to the back door and let myself in.
‘Ah, Callie.’ My mother’s eyes are bright. ‘I’m so glad you’re here. I’ve just got off the phone to the estate agent. He’s talking about exchanging contracts as soon as next week.’
‘That’s good, Mum.’ Suddenly I’m regretting going away. ‘I wish I was going to be here to help.’
‘I knew you were going to say that. But you don’t have to worry. Everything is organised – and as long as your father’s well, we can cope with anything.’ She frowns. ‘Is something wrong?’
‘I’m realising this is probably the last time I’m going to be here.’ My eyes fill with tears.
Coming over, my mother takes my hands. ‘I know it seems sad… And in some ways it is. But it’s the right time for us to do this.’
‘I know it is.’ Blinking away my tears, I smile. ‘I’m proud of you Mum – for making it happen. And for being so brave – and looking after Dad.’
‘I can assure you we’ve both had our moments, you know.’ There’s the slightest waver in her voice. ‘But there’s no point dwelling on things you can’t change. In any case, it’s the beginning of something new. And really, we have much to be grateful for.’
Before I leave, I take a last walk through the house. Pausing in each room, I recall the happiest of family times we’ve had here, the life events that have taken place, the conversations that have echoed within these walls; feeling grateful that this house will soon be loved by someone else.
‘Good luck with the move, Mum.’ I kiss her on the cheek. ‘Hopefully when I see you next, you’ll be in your lovely new home.’
‘Yes.’ She nods just as my father comes in.
