‘It isn’t. She’s in it and it looks recent.’
I handed the frame to Georgia who shook her head. ‘I’ve not seen it before. Mark?’
Mark shrugged. ‘Me neither, but you’re right about it being recent. The beard was new last year.’
Georgia handed back the frame as Dad returned to the lounge and distributed the photos.
‘Can I ask you about this?’ I said, after thanking him. I held up the frame for him to see.
‘Ah!’ he said, grimacing. ‘I forgot that was there.’
‘When was it taken?’
He sat back down in his chair. ‘Remember me saying he came round with a gift for your mum’s eightieth? It was taken then. Does it bother you because I can put it in a drawer if it does?’
‘No. Keep it out. It’s right that he’s still part of your lives.’
‘If you ever want to know anything about Flynn…’ Mark said.
I wished I could make them happy by saying yes but it would be too hard for me, too raw, to hear all about his wife and maybe even a new family. I meant it when I’d said it was right that Flynn was part of their lives, but he couldn’t be part of mine, so I shook my head.
‘Nothing’s changed there. I’m completely fine with you all seeing him – including you, Georgia, if you want to – but I don’t want to know any details. Sorry.’
The sad expressions were too much for me so I added, ‘But I’ll let you know if that changes.’
It wouldn’t, but I felt as though I needed to give them a sliver of hope. They agreed not to give me any Flynn updates and the subject was thankfully changed.
A little later, the clock above the fireplace released a delightful ping as it did every hour and Georgia stretched.
‘Ten o’clock,’ she said. ‘Our cue to head off to our beds.’
Dad said he’d poke his head round the bedroom door to see whether Mum was awake so we could say goodnight if she was. I’d carefully placed my photos in my handbag and pushed one arm into my coat sleeve when Dad’s mournful cry of, ‘No!’ chilled me to the bone.
Georgia, Mark and I raced down the hall to my parents’ bedroom and my heart shattered into a million pieces at the sight of my dad kneeling on the floor, cradling Mum’s limp body against his. Her eyes were open, his were tightly closed, and he was repeating ‘no’ over and over again.
30
Georgia released a mournful wail and dropped to her knees beside Dad. I pressed my hand to my mouth, my heart pounding, goose bumps breaking out over my body.
‘Call an ambulance,’ Mark said, pressing his phone into my hand. ‘Put it on speaker.’
Gulping, I dialled 999 while he calmly took control of the situation, encouraging Georgia and Dad to release Mum. As I ran through the details with the emergency call handler, the three of them lifted Mum off the bed and laid her on the floor so Mark could commence CPR. As a first aider on the Mountain Rescue Team, he knew what he was doing.
I felt so helpless as I hovered in the doorway holding the phone out in front of me. My eyes were fixed on Mum but my head was back in Noah’s room as two paramedics checked his body for vital signs and looked up at me with sad expressions. One of them spoke to me but I’d been that shocked I hadn’t heard any of the words as I’d sagged against Flynn.
This time, it was Georgia sagging against me. Feeling her shaking, I slipped my arm round her waist. It would be fine. Mark knew what he was doing and the call handler had told us there was a first responder in the area who’d be with us in minutes.
‘I’ll go down to the bottom of the drive to watch for them,’ I said, pressing Mark’s phone into Georgia’s hand. Every second was precious and I didn’t want to risk the first responder driving past because they couldn’t see the house names in the dark.
Minutes later, I spotted the marked car and guided the first responder onto the drive then into Mum and Dad’s bedroom with his defibrillator, but it was already too late and no amount of shocking was going to restart Mum’s heart.
‘I’m very sorry,’ he said as he closed Mum’s eyes.
Georgia ran from the bedroom. Mark placed a reassuring hand on Dad’s back before going after her. My heart broke for my dad, standing there staring down at his beloved wife, eyes wide, head shaking, no doubt wondering how he was ever going to cope without her. My heart broke for my lovely mum, taken from us far too soon. For my sister whose cries I could hear from the lounge. For her grandchildren who adored her, her great-grandchildren who wouldn’t get a chance to know her. And for me and the lost years.
‘I know it’s a difficult time, but I need to ask some questions about June’s medical history,’ the paramedic said. He’d introduced himself when he arrived but I hadn’t taken it in. As he packed his equipment away, I spotted the name Ben on his uniform.
‘Is there somewhere you’d rather go to answer them?’ Ben asked.
