‘Where are we going?’ Jake asked as he followed Lawrence down the hallway in the apartment.
‘Back to her bedroom.’
‘Oh, I thought you said we should return another time, and not visit when she’s barely woken up?’
‘I’ve changed my mind.’ Lawrence looked at his watch. ‘The nurses normally do their rounds now. I’m sure I heard someone else walk into the apartment.’
Jake hadn’t. He’d been too busy getting over the shock thatArnold had passed away.
They returned to her bedroom, pausing by the open door. ‘Ah, good. There’s a nurse in the room giving Martha her daily meds. Let me check that you can stay and see her. I’ll come and get you when I’ve found the record. It’s just she doesn’t get a whole lot of visitors now, not since Arnold …’ he trailed off.
Jake nodded and watched from the doorway as he had a word with the nurse. She beckoned him inside room as Lawrence stepped out. Jake glanced at Lawrence as he walked along the hall and disappeared down the stairs. Jake turned into the room and shut the door. Visions of Arnold leaping out of the chair the previous day and scaring him half to death, with an unrepentant expression on his face that said he knew exactly what he was doing, nearly sent Jake flying out of the room in the belief that with Lawrence gone, Arnold would reappear. Jake decided against closing the door to the apartment. Instead he left it wide open in case he needed to make a quick exit in fright. He was relieved to leave the sitting room and walk down the hallway to Martha’s bedroom.
Chapter 45
Jake hovered by the door.
From the bed, propped up on pillows, Martha caught sight of him. ‘Ralph.’
Jake walked over to the bed. There was a single chair positioned on the other side of the bed. Jake decided to remain on the side nearest the door, in case he needed to bolt. Besides, the nurse was sitting in that chair filling in some paperwork on a clipboard.
He crouched down beside her. ‘Martha, I’m not Ralph.’
He doubted she would understand what he was saying to her. According to the man he had spoken to in the apartment the previous day, who Jake believed was very much alive but had for some reason chosen not to reveal his true identity, Martha only had small windows of clarity opening briefly through the fog of her condition. The way she kept calling him Ralph suggested this was most definitely not one of her better days.
She opened her mouth to speak. Jake leaned closer. ‘Good heavens,’ she said, ‘you’re Scottish.’
Jake drew back, a wide grin on his face. Somebody just opened a window. Although her speech was slow, and at times slurred, he could understand her perfectly. ‘Do you know,’ hesaid to her, ‘you’re the first person to say that since I arrived in Scotland?’
‘Am I?’ she said. ‘Well people are stupid, I must say.’
Jake laughed at that. ‘How right you are,’ he said.
She studied his face. ‘You’re not Ralph, are you?’
‘No. I’m Jake.’ He took one of her frail hands. ‘Jake Campbell-Ross.’ He thought he saw a flicker of recognition cross her features. He didn’t know how much of this she was taking in or how much she understood.
Jake swiftly got out the envelopes. He didn’t want her to tire and fall asleep again before he showed her the photos; he really wanted to help her find whoever she was looking for, see her loved ones before she went. Jake really did understand the importance of this. ‘Martha,’ he said holding up a photo. ‘Martha, look at the photos, your photographs.’ He picked up her limp hand and put a photo between her fingers.
Her fingers tensed. She looked down at the photo.
‘Who is that, Martha?’ said Jake, pointing at the photograph in her hand, the one of Aubrey.
‘Ralph.’ She was smiling now.
‘That’s really good, Martha.’ Jake quickly put another photo in her hand.
‘Are you Ralph?’ she said, looking at Jake.
‘No, Martha – I’m Jake, remember? Now look at the photo.’ Jake stroked her hand.
She touched the next photograph with a frail bony finger. ‘That’s Ralph and Rosemary, and …’
She’d lost her train of thought.
Jake realised it wasn’t the one he wanted to show her. He was about to put the group photo of the four of them doing the line-dance jig back in the envelope and show her a different photo when he realised this was his opportunity to find out more about Aubrey.
‘Martha, tell me about Aubrey—’ Jake hastily rephrased. ‘I mean your brother, Ralph.’ Jake glanced at the nurse. He didn’t want to bring up her brother in front of one of the staff, but this was his chance to speak to Martha and find out about Aubrey. ‘Where did he go to school? Why did he disappear and not return to claim his inheritance?’ Although Lawrence had speculated about what had happened to him, as had his father, who had been interested in the family history of the house, that was all it was – speculation. Martha could give him all the answers first hand. ‘Where did he go when he disappeared?’
