She appears to think about this, as if she herself isn’t entirely sure. After contemplating for a few moments, she says, ‘I suppose I’m asking if anything of interest has happened to you lately?’
‘But how am I supposed to know what is of interest to you?’
Gayle thinks again. ‘You know, that’s a good question. Perhaps you can tell me if anything of interest to you has happened lately.’
I think about this. ‘Well, let’s see. I read Kelly Rimmer’s new novel, The Things We Cannot Say, over the weekend. I thoroughly enjoyed it.’
Gayle beams. ‘I read her last one and loved it. It must have been out last summer because I remember sitting outside on my garden swing with a gin and tonic while I read it.’
Before I know it, Gayle and I have discussed gin, garden swings and her new herb garden, as well as Kelly Rimmer’s other books, and none of it has felt like a chore in the least. The fact that we are focused on our work as we talk assists with this, I believe. We are still chatting comfortably when the automatic doors slide open.
‘Isn’t that your sister, Fern?’
I glance up, instantly annoyed. Rose hasn’t been back since the last time I told her it wasn’t convenient, and I’d thought she’d got the message.
‘Rose,’ I say, before she can speak. ‘I’m sorry, but I’m working.’
Rose shoots a look at Gayle. ‘I know. But this is important. Is there somewhere we can speak in private?’
‘At home,’ I suggest. ‘Tonight?’
She shakes her head. ‘Now, Fern.’
Rose and I appear to have come to something of a stalemate. I let out a long sigh.
‘Go into the courtyard,’ Gayle whispers. ‘I’ll cover for you.’
Carmel has been so lenient with me lately that I’m not sure I would need anyone to ‘cover’ for me, but I appreciate the sentiment, so I don’t point this out. Instead, I thank Gayle and head outside to the courtyard with Rose. As we walk, Rose peppers me with inane questions about my day, the weather, if Gayle has recently changed her hair, and by the time we reach the courtyard, I’m feeling a little uneasy. Rose doesn’t typically make small talk with me. She knows I dislike chatter for chatter’s sake and the rapid fire of today makes me wonder if something is wrong.
‘What is it, Rose?’ I say.
Thankfully, Rose doesn’t draw it out. ‘It’s Mum.’
It is perhaps the very last thing I expect her to say. Rose doesn’t impart information about Mum to me, it’s the other way around. Rose hasn’t seen Mum for years.
‘What . . . about Mum?’ I ask.
I notice Rose’s face is unusually sombre. ‘I just had a call from Sun Meadows.’
This is odd. Why would Sun Meadows call Rose?
‘Why would they call you?’
Rose looks a little sheepish. ‘I’m Mum’s emergency contact.’
I stare at her. I have been visiting Mum every week for sixteen years and Rose is Mum’s emergency contact?
She takes a long deep breath. ‘It’s not good news, Fern. Mum . . . she died.’
I hear the words. I understand them. And yet, I feel . . . nothing. I become oddly aware of all the sounds around me. The birds in the nearby tree. My breath whooshing past my ears. My heart beating.
‘There aren’t many details yet,’ Rose says. ‘They will probably have to do an autopsy. They think it must have been a stroke.’
‘But . . . she couldn’t have had a stroke. She was in good health. Better than ever.’
Rose shrugs. ‘Unfortunately, even healthy people have strokes sometimes.’
‘No.’ A tear slips from my eye and I wipe it away quickly with my shirtsleeve. Another immediately takes its place.
‘I know this is hard for you, Fern. I know you loved her.’
‘Can I see her?’ I ask.
Rose shakes her head. ‘They’ve already taken her . . . for the autopsy.’
I stare at her. ‘Already?’
‘Yes.’
‘But . . . when did she die?’
‘The hospital called me yesterday. Apparently, she didn’t wake up in the morning.’
‘Yesterday? Mum’s been dead for a whole day and you didn’t tell me?’
Rose looks surprised. ‘Please don’t get upset, Fern.’
I try to fathom how I could not be upset. It is, after all, exquisitely upsetting.
‘I’ll take you home,’ Rose says, placing a hand on my arm. ‘Why don’t you wait here a minute and I’ll explain what has–’
‘No,’ I say, pulling my arm free and wrapping it around myself. ‘I’m staying here.’
But Rose is already walking back toward the door to the library. ‘I’m sure they’ll understand, Fern.’
‘NO!’ It comes out louder than I intend, but at least Rose stops walking. ‘I don’t want to go home. I have work to do . . .’
Rose stares at me. ‘Really? You want to stay here?’
‘Yes.’
‘You’re sure?’
‘I am.’
Rose looks confused. I’m not sure why. The library has been my home for as long as I can remember. After a lifetime together, you’d think she would have known that. But more and more lately, I get the feeling that Rose doesn’t know me at all.
I feel agitated as I walk back into the library. I don’t pause as I pass Gayle and Carmel, I just continue straight into the secret cupboard. Inside, I pull my phone from my pocket and dial Sun Meadows.
A receptionist named Jessica answers the phone. ‘Good morning, Sun Meadows, how many I assist you?’
‘My name is Fern Castle. My mother, Nina Castle, was a patient there and I have just been informed that she has passed away. Can I speak to someone about this please?’
The receptionist tells me she’s sorry for my loss and then asks if I can hold the line. I’ve always thought that was a stupid saying – after all, what line do they want me to hold? – but today I am too upset to worry about it. After a minute, she patches me through.
‘Hello?’ says the voice.
‘Hello,’ I say. ‘My mother, Nina, was a patient and–’
‘Fern?’ she says. ‘It’s Onnab. I was one of
