Page 23 of The Truth About You and Me
‘Sorry… I need to take this.’
She unfolds herself from her seat, apologises to the women behind and makes a hasty exit.
13
MAGGIE
I frown at the screen as I head into the foyer; Riz’s name under the two missed call notifications. Why is she calling me at this time of night? I wave my phone at Colin in the booth and make my way outside. The wind hits me, and I pull my arm around myself against the salty air, returning her call.
‘Riz?’ I raise my voice over the wind, my hair tangling across my face.
‘Mags? I’m so sorry to be calling at this hour, but, well… the thing is, I seem to have gotten myself into a spot of bother and the truth of the matter is, I had no one else that I could call.’
‘Are you OK?’ I think of the thoughts I’d heard flash through her mind the last time I was there when I’d had to help her into her chair.
Almost there. Getting old is such a shit.
The pain in her hip, the retirement home, the feeling of closure that had ricocheted through her words as she thought about boxing up her things, locking the door of her house for the final time.
I know how she depends on this job.
She’s such a bright spark.
I see myself in her.
If only life had thrown her a few more favourable rolls of the dice.
This will probably be my last true act of independence.
And it’s going to break my heart.
‘Well, there’s the rub. I seem to have gotten myself in a bit of a fix, and I wondered, if it’s not too big an inconvenience, if you could possibly pop over? You still have your key?’ There is a gasp on the other end of the phone, as though she’s shifted her position and is in pain.
Riz’s key is on my keychain in my jacket pocket, which is still folded under my seat next to Jack. ‘Yep. Do you need an ambulance? I can…’
‘No. No. I don’t need all that fuss, but I would be grateful for a little help.’
‘Just hold tight. I’m on my way.’
The wind almost pulls the doors straight from my hands but I close it behind me, and make my way back to Jack.
‘Problem?’ Jack scans my face as I look over to him. There is concern and kindness in his eyes.
‘It’s Riz,’ I begin in a rush, gathering my jacket. ‘I’m her cleaner. I think she’s had a fall. I’m sorry, I need to go.’
‘I’ll come with you.’
‘No, no… you stay. Watch the end of the film.’
But he’s already standing.
* * *
I slip my key into the door, Jack behind me. The lights are off in the hallway. I flick them on.
‘Riz?’
‘Upstairs, Maggie dear.’ Music is playing from somewhere upstairs: ‘Moon River’. I recognise it fromBreakfast at Tiffany’s.
