The image of you, p.7
The Image of You, page 7
‘No, not at all. I’m glad to be here to support you. That’s what it’s all about, after all.’
He looked at her questioningly.
‘In the end, isn’t it?’
He didn’t dare ask her exactly what she meant by that. He supposed she must mean dating, sex, friendship. In the end, it was about looking for someone to share it all with. Share life. And death. She squeezed his hand, he wasn’t alone. He squeezed hers back.
When they first approached the bed his mother had her eyes closed. Even so, he could tell she wasn’t sleeping; her body was not relaxed enough to suggest sleep. The wizened old lady who lay flat in the hospital bed, a pillow between her legs to keep her hips in place, looked nothing like his sprightly, energetic mother. He was assaulted by an old memory of the time when he and Rachel found a baby bird that had fallen out of its nest in their back garden. It lay bald and struggling on the soil. They’d scooped it up and taken it inside, determined to feed it and make it better. The bird didn’t live. He was annoyed with himself for thinking about that. The image of the baby bird tumbling from its nest crashed into his mind, even though he’d never actually seen the fall. Then he saw his mother, legs and arms flapping, falling through the sky in slow motion. He heard a crack as she landed. And broke. Felt it. He shook his head. How was it that a race that had put man on the moon, created theories of relativity and quantum mechanics, couldn’t control subconscious thoughts?
He wanted to hug his mother but didn’t dare, in case he hurt her; he didn’t even dare take hold of her hand as one was bandaged and another had a needle stuck in it, with a tube trailing out. He plonked himself in a chair by her bed.
Her eyes fluttered open, she saw him staring at the tube and shrugged, ‘Just a painkiller, Nicholas. Very effective. I’m beginning to understand why people do drugs.’ She smiled at her own joke, desperate to cheer him up; ever the mother. Her skin was normally soft and pink; today it was grey and waxy, except where it was purple with bruises. ‘Darling, you didn’t need to come all this way. I told you not to,’ she scolded, although it was obvious her heart wasn’t in it.
He could tell she was secretly relieved to see him. His sister lived in Edinburgh and worked as a schoolteacher. She couldn’t get to Bath until the weekend.
‘Where’s Dad?’
‘You’ve just missed him. I sent him home. He’s very tired. Been here at my side all day. Will you be staying at home tonight? Have you let him know he should expect you?’
‘No, probably not, we’re likely to take a hotel.’ The word we’re alerted his mother to Anna’s presence. Carefully, she tilted her head. ‘Who’s this?’ she asked with a warm smile.
Anna immediately scooted around the other side of the bed and sat down. Then, with infinite tenderness, she took hold of his mother’s bandaged hand. ‘I’m Anna Turner, Mrs Hudson. A friend of your son’s.’
‘A special friend, I hope,’ said his mother with a totally inappropriate twinkly laugh. Obviously, she was assuming her dramatic fall and dreadful injuries were a valid excuse for appalling unsubtlety.
Anna blushed and grinned. ‘Can I get you anything to drink? How about some water or a nice cup of tea from the cafeteria? I bet they offered tea at about six p.m. but you’ll have still been out of it.’
His mother laughed. ‘Spot on, and I’m parched now. How did you know that?’
‘I’m intimately acquainted with hospital procedures,’ Anna replied light-heartedly. ‘We’ll ask the nurse if you can have one. Are your feet cold? Would you like me to put on a pair of socks for you?’
‘Oh dear, I couldn’t ask that of you.’
Anna was already out of her seat, rummaging through the bedside table. ‘Has someone brought socks? Ah, here we are.’ She deftly moved to the end of the bed, untucked the sheets and blanket and began to gently, oh so carefully, ease a sock on to Pamela’s right foot.
His mum looked relieved, ‘Could you go and ask about the tea, Nicholas? Leave me to get to know your lovely friend.’
‘Bring it in a proper cup, Nick. No one enjoys drinking tea from polystyrene,’ added Anna.
Nick was impressed with Anna. Blown away, actually. Obviously, it was her training at work that made her so practical and simply sensible. Or maybe that was her personality and the reason why she’d been drawn into such a caring industry in the first place. He didn’t know which came first, the chicken or the egg. He did know that he was exceedingly grateful for her empathy and cheer.
They stayed all week, right through to the weekend. In the end they did decide to sleep at his family home rather than go to a hotel; Anna suggested his father might need the company and support, as his mother was likely to be in hospital for a while, and he wasn’t used to being on his own.
Nick knew they’d be put in separate rooms; it was just the way it was with his parents. He’d be locked away in his old room, a shrine to his boyhood, filled with rugby trophies and posters from gigs he’d attended. She’d be in the spare room. He felt sad about that; it surprised him to note that it wasn’t the sex he’d miss at night, it was holding her. His body wanted to spoon hers. He craved it enough to risk his father’s displeasure. Like a teenager he sneaked from his room into the one where Anna was sleeping. He lifted the duvet and she scooted over. No fuss.
Ten
Anna
Anna thought Nick’s parents were almost as adorable as he was. She’d had a perfect few days. Of course the circumstances of their meeting were unfortunate nonetheless every cloud had a silver lining, she’d always believed that. If poor Pamela hadn’t fallen off the ladder it might have been months before Nick felt comfortable with asking Anna to meet his parents—possibly years! Pamela was on the mend now, and Anna had been useful, there was no doubt about that. She was almost in her element; hospitals, caring for people, it was her thing. Zoe had brought hospitals into her life. At first, Anna had been afraid of them—it was the peculiar smell of sterilizer and fear—but then her parents explained that hospitals were where people went to get better. Usually. She’d had to trust them.
Anna felt very at home with the Hudsons. Nick’s mother was brave and grateful, easy to talk to and full of that commodity Anna so admired: an ability to be chipper when things were awkward or difficult. Anna’s own parents did not do cheerfulness; all their merriment had been knocked out of them. They did deep retrospection and regret; they had quite a line in recriminations too. Nick’s father was quieter than his wife, yet he still had an air of determined optimism. He had been very handsome once, you could see it in his bright twinkling eyes and his long noble nose. He walked tall, not stooping, refusing to bend to his age. Anna couldn’t help but think that Nick was likely to look similar at around that age. Dignified. Attractive, in an old man sort of way.
The only fly in the ointment was Nick’s sister, Rachel. Rachel didn’t seem overjoyed that Anna was here helping out. If Anna was a less positive person she might go so far as to say that Rachel resented her presence. Rachel was stiff and formal with her, although she seemed reasonably pleasant with others. Anna didn’t want any trouble so she ignored Rachel’s coolness; at least, she silently clocked it but decided not to draw attention to it. Mentioning it to Nick wouldn’t help matters. The problem of difficult sisters was one that had to be approached with caution; she knew that better than anyone. Besides, the Hudsons had enough on their plates; they didn’t need any sniping, it was far better to continue being bright and breezy. Anna knew that Zoe would not be so tolerant; she’d take instant umbrage with Rachel and then, no doubt, have a showdown of some form. Zoe wouldn’t see that Rachel’s manner was the result of shock or fear at her mother’s accident, she’d see it as a tussle for Nick’s affection and loyalty, a declaration of war. Offended on Anna’s behalf, Zoe would fast make an enemy of Rachel. She was a bit overprotective that way.
However, Anna felt bad for Nick’s sister. Things had careered off on the wrong path from their very first meeting, and that was all because Rachel had missed the Saturday morning visiting period and felt frustrated, thwarted. All she wanted was to see her mum; Anna understood that, on some level, Rachel resented her because she’d spent time with Pamela when Rachel couldn’t.
They first met in the busy hospital corridors. Nick immediately pulled his sister into a big hug and, as they broke apart, he beamed, ‘Rachel, this is Anna, my girlfriend.’
‘I assumed as much.’
Anna was used to hugging the senior Hudsons by then so she threw her arms out wide, ready to embrace. Stiffly, Rachel stuck out her hand, clearly showing she wasn’t on for anything more intimate. She looked frazzled. Rachel obviously only had her mind on her mother and had clearly grabbed the first thing she could lay her hands on to wear. Her T-shirt was yellowing under the arms and her jeans stretched across her bum and tummy. She was nothing like her brother. He was lean, hard-bodied; he worked out, it was important to him. Even this week he’d found time to go for a run whilst Anna was making breakfast.
‘How’s Mum?’ Rachel had directed her question at Nick. But since Anna had now linked her arm through his and was standing so close to him they looked like they were practically zipped together, it took a certain amount of determination to blank Anna’s existence, and yet blank it Rachel did. ‘They won’t let me in to see her, they said I had to come back at two p.m.’
‘They’re quite strict about visiting hours,’ pointed out Anna, with a sympathetic grimace. ‘We’ve been here since nine. So she’s had plenty of company, you don’t need to worry about that.’ Rachel appeared not to have heard Anna; maybe Anna was speaking on a different frequency, one that Rachel simply didn’t pick up. She carried on, regardless. ‘Visiting hours are nine until midday and then two until five thirty. Then you can come back anytime from six thirty until nine in the evenings.’
Rachel didn’t acknowledge this helpful information at all. Instead, she asked Nick, ‘How is she?’
‘Well, a fractured hip isn’t good news, as I said on the phone. Still, the operation went as well as we could possibly have hoped.’
‘Is she comfortable?’
Anna tried to lighten the atmosphere with a little joke. ‘She’s getting hooked on the drugs.’
It was as though she hadn’t spoken. Rachel kept her eyes trained on Nick. ‘How long will she have to stay in hospital?’
‘She can come home on Tuesday afternoon. Then she’ll have almost daily appointments with physios for quite some time.’
‘How will Dad manage driving her backwards and forwards to these appointments?’
‘Will you be able to take any time off?’ Anna asked.
It seemed she had finally got through, Rachel glared at her. ‘No. I’m a teacher. I break up for half term in a few weeks’ time. I can spend nine days down here then but I can’t get any leave during the term.’
Having been on the receiving end of one of Rachel’s hard frowns, Anna now felt she’d be happier being ignored altogether.
Turning to Nick, Rachel said, ‘You’ll have to take time off work, Nick.’
Nick shrugged apologetically. ‘I’m not sure that can happen. I’ve already had three and a half days off. I have to go in on Monday. I’m close to completing on a big equity capital deal. I suppose we could hire some help.’
‘Pamela won’t like that,’ pointed out Anna. ‘Nor George.’
Nick nodded, sadly.
‘I could stay the week. I could look after them,’ Anna offered.
Both the Hudson siblings turned to her in surprise. Nick’s expression was full of admiration, Rachel looked more irritated.
‘That’s very kind but don’t you have to get back to your work too? You do work, don’t you?’ Rachel’s tone somehow suggested she believed Anna was the type of woman who had a daddy that paid for everything, until a husband would.
‘Anna works at a drop-in centre for the vulnerable and homeless,’ said Nick, somewhat triumphantly. He clearly wasn’t oblivious to the implication behind his sister’s comment.
Rachel’s expression shifted slightly, she looked grudgingly impressed. ‘Oh. Well, since you’ve been here most of the week already, it strikes me that your employers have been extremely understanding as it is.’
‘True, they have. I told them it was a family crisis,’ said Anna, smiling brightly.
‘But you are not family,’ Rachel snapped, almost choking on her indignation.
‘No, but I am the one who can get time off.’
Rachel stared at her shoes.
Nick pulled Anna into an enormous hug. ‘God, you are a marvel! If you’re sure.’ Nick turned to his sister. ‘The parents love her. You have to see it.’
‘I can imagine,’ Rachel muttered.
‘That’s settled then.’ Nick nodded, relieved. ‘Thank you, Anna. Thank you so much. I don’t know what we’d do without you.’ He leaned in and kissed her long enough to make Rachel feel the need to turn away for the sake of decency.
* * *
That night, Anna waited for Nick to sneak into her bedroom as had become his habit. She totally respected his parents’ wish for them to have separate rooms but she loved the fact that he broke the rules for her. On cue, at 11.45 p.m. he gently nudged the door open. She scooted to one side of the bed and lifted up the duvet, invitingly.
‘I feel like a teenager,’ he whispered as he slipped in beside her.
‘You did this sort of thing when you were a teenager?’ Anna couldn’t quite keep the shock out of her voice.
‘I was a really bad boy.’
‘I don’t think I want to know the details.’
‘Really? You won’t find them sexy?’ He started to gently kiss her ear, her neck.
‘More likely, disturbing.’
‘Cute pyjamas by the way. Are those actual kittens on them?’
Anna couldn’t tell if he was teasing her. The pyjamas weren’t what anyone would call sexy. Pale-pink kittens on lemon clouds. They were the sort of things that a girl should only wear at home, on duvet days, whilst eating a tub of ice cream, in an ironic-recapturing-of-childhood way.
‘Yes,’ she confessed.
‘Sweet yet surplus to requirements.’ Nick started to undo the buttons.
Anna gripped the neck of the pyjamas.
‘Dad is fast asleep if that’s what’s worrying you,’ he murmured as he landed kisses on her collar bone.
‘Your sister is the other side of this wall,’ replied Anna in a hiss-whisper.
Nick grinned. He didn’t seem too concerned about the proximity of Rachel. He edged his hand up under her pyjama top and cupped her right breast; gently, with his thumb, he circled her nipple.
‘Look, Anna, I’m sorry Rachel seemed a bit off with you today.’
‘Was she? I hadn’t noticed,’ Anna lied.
The cool start in the corridor had turned distinctly icy later on. Anna wasn’t sure if Nick had been aware—he had a lot on his mind—but she was relieved to receive his reassurances. Rachel had practically stipulated that Anna did not return to the hospital, either for the afternoon or evening visiting sessions. She insisted that Anna and Nick ought to take some time off and dawdle around the shops in Bath, perhaps have afternoon tea at the Spa tea rooms. On the surface it was a thoughtful, generous offer however Anna had dealt with Zoe for many years and whilst she wanted to believe in the apparent kindness, she couldn’t help but think Rachel had an agenda; she wanted her mother to herself. Understandable, of course, Anna reminded herself. Not wrong at all. Besides, she and Nick had had a lovely afternoon. Hand in hand, they’d wandered along the cobbled streets, poked around the pretty little independent shops. Nick was extremely generous; it became impossible for Anna to pass comment on anything nice because he’d offer to buy it for her. A beautiful, chunky silver necklace, a trendy suede jacket, a pretty floral teapot. Needless to say, she hadn’t let him; she didn’t need a thank-you gift for helping out with Pamela. It was her pleasure.
Whilst Rachel and George were visiting Pamela this evening, and Nick had been catching up on some work emails, Anna had made dinner for everyone. She’d pushed the boat out, as it was the last night before Nick had to head back to London, so she wanted to make it special. She prepared beef in a red wine sauce, which she’d planned to serve with creamy mash. She thought that when George and Rachel returned home at nine thirty, they’d be starving. As it happened, when Rachel arrived home she’d declared that she was going to make a sandwich and eat it in her room; as a consequence the others had eaten in a silence that couldn’t be described as anything other than uncomfortable.
‘She was unforgivably rude this evening.’
‘Maybe she really was exhausted and simply couldn’t face making conversation,’ offered Anna.
Nick stared at her with open admiration. ‘How come you’re so understanding? She behaved like the basic bitch. I don’t know why she’s being so difficult.’
‘Is she? Well, there’s a lot going on.’ Anna didn’t want to believe there was any issue between her and Rachel. She liked Nick. A lot. She didn’t want the first trustworthy, sexy, kind and thoughtful man she’d met since, well ever, to come with any ifs or buts attached. She pushed the thought to the back of her head. These things were often mind over matter. ‘Anyway, you don’t have the monopoly on difficult sisters.’
‘Hmmm?’
‘No.’ Anna sighed. ‘The behaviour your sister demonstrated, for the record, that wasn’t even on the scale of “difficult”. Not on the scale as I see it.’
He propped himself up on his arm, interested. ‘You have a sister?’ Nick was obviously sideswiped.
She could see his eyes flicker left to right, trying to recall. Wondering whether they’d had that conversation. The one where you each asked about the other’s family. She smiled at him and decided not to acknowledge the fact that he was clearly, desperately trying to recall. Maybe. Maybe not. If they had, the details were hazy. Perhaps they’d had it on that first date when they drank too much wine, which was why he couldn’t quite remember.
