Emily let out a sigh as she let the kitten scamper off. It was only a little past noon and yet she felt as if the day had gone forever. She needed to get to work, to ground herself in the soothing routine of administration and order.
A knock at the door, a persistent rat-a-tat-tat, had her straightening again and going to open it.
“Emily.”
Emily stiffened as Alice enveloped her in a quick, tight hug before stepping back to scan her face anxiously. “I’ve been so worried. Is your mum okay? I fed the kitten. What an absolute darling. I didn’t even know you had one. Anyway, he’s fine. But what about you?” She let out an abashed laugh. “Sorry, I know I’m running on. I do that when I’m nervous.”
“I’m all right. I was just planning to come up to work.”
“Oh, but you shouldn’t! I mean, you don’t have to. Take the day off…”
Emily shook her head. “My mother is sick, not me. I want to work. Keep busy.”
“Oh, of course.” Emily tried not to chafe at the blatant look of sympathy on Alice’s face. “I can understand that. I’m sure I’d feel the same.”
“Thank you.” She smiled stiffly.
“Are you going now? Shall we walk up together?”
“All right.” Emily wouldn’t have minded a little space, but she knew Alice meant well. She filled the kitten’s water bowl and glanced at the bag she’d left by the door; everything in her wanted to unpack it, sort laundry, and restore order, but Alice was waiting and so reluctantly she left it.
Outside the sky seemed to hang limply over the earth, flat and grey.
“It hasn’t been the best weather, has it?” Alice remarked with a sigh. “And they say more rain is forecast. I hope the Lea doesn’t flood.”
“Has it before?”
“Not since I’ve lived here, but people talk about it having happened in the past. I don’t think it would affect Willoughby Manor or the close, as we’re up high enough, but there are lots of houses alongside the river, and some shops too.”
“Hopefully it won’t come to that,” Emily murmured. She didn’t have the energy or emotional space to worry about anything else than what was going on in her life right now.
Back in the office, she was finally able to push all her worries and concerns to the back of her mind as she focused on filing—one of her favourite activities—and then sorting some logistics for the fundraiser. It was, she hoped, shaping up to be a fun and wholesome event, with plenty of children’s activities on offer, as well as local businesses showcasing their wares. It made her happy to think of it, to think of anything but the fact of her mother lying in a hospital bed, hating her.
Late afternoon, it started to rain, a steady hammering on the terrace outside as raindrops streaked down the long windowpanes. Alice came in with a cup of tea and an uncertain smile.
“I know you want to work, but I thought you could use a hot drink.”
“That’s kind. Thank you, Alice.” Emily looked up from her laptop, blinking a gloomy world back into focus. The tea was welcome.
Emily cradled the mug in her hands, savouring the warmth. For a few hours she’d been able to keep from thinking about everything, but now, with just a moment’s respite, memories started to rush in. The hospital. Her mother’s look of fury and hatred. Twenty-eight days. Owen…
“Do you want to talk about it?” Alice asked cautiously. “It’s okay if you don’t.”
Emily sighed. “There isn’t much to talk about, really.” She paused, and then, perhaps because she’d done it once already so it felt that little bit easier, she added somewhat recklessly, “My mother’s been sectioned. She’ll be in a closed psychiatric unit for the next twenty-eight days.”
“Oh, Emily.”
Yes, there it was, the cringing sense of shame and fear that she’d said it aloud. Again. There was nothing but pity on Alice’s face, but still. Emily wished she’d kept her mouth shut.
“I’m sorry.” Emily nodded her thanks, and Alice continued hesitantly, “I know a little of what you’re going through. My mum…she was a drug addict. I lived with her a couple of times in between being in care and…it wasn’t easy.” Alice swallowed hard. “Not easy at all.”
“I’m sure it wasn’t.” Once again, Emily realised, she’d assumed, without even realising she was doing it, that someone wouldn’t understand. That they wouldn’t relate, when they could. All too well. “I’m sorry, Alice. I didn’t realise.”
“It was a lot of ups and downs,” Alice continued quietly. “I wanted to be with her, but then I really didn’t. And then I felt guilty for not wanting it…round and round, until it finally wasn’t an issue, because I aged out and she lost touch.” She sighed. “I don’t even know where she is now.”
“That sounds really tough.” Emily knew the words were inadequate, yet she didn’t have any others. Alice’s observation had already skated a bit too close to the bone, to the heart. Yes, she understood that merry-go-round of emotions, wishing her mum would get better and wishing she wouldn’t, wishing she would be in her life or completely out of it. And the guilt. Always the guilt. She wished she could explain to Alice how she understood, she got it, but the words were jumbled inside her. “Thank you,” she said instead, hefting her cup of tea but meaning so much more. It helped, to know someone else understood what you were going through, if not the particulars, then the generalities.
Alice smiled shyly. “Anytime.”
*
It was still raining, a steady, depressing downpour, as Emily headed back to Willoughby Close, huddled under an umbrella as the wind
