Martha shifted her gaze from the photo to Jake. She said, ‘Ralph.’
‘Yes, that’s right, I’m talking about Ralph. Your brother, Ralph. You both grew up here, right? Until your brother was sent away to school. You must have been just a toddler. I bet you missed your big brother terribly. Has he been here to see you?’ Jake looked towards the door as though he’d walk in right this second.
When he looked back at Martha she had dropped the photo in her hand. Jake shook his head and picked up the photo, holding it up. ‘Martha, can you tell me about Ralph?’ He noticed her eyes were glazing over.
The nurse looked up from her paperwork. ‘I’m afraid she tires easily.’
Jake sighed. He wasn’t going to get any information from her that day about her brother. He changed tack and showed her the photo of a small boy taken at The Lake House. The name on the back of the photo was also Ralph, but this wasn’t Aubrey. This photo was more recent, of a boy around his own age. Jake suspected someone had written that name on the back of the photo by mistake. ‘Look at the photo, Martha.’
Frustratingly, she continued to gaze at Jake. She said, ‘He should have married me, not that other girl. Then we would havebeen a family.’
‘Who should have married you, Martha?’ Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed the nurse leaning forward in her chair, clearly also interested to hear what she might say.
‘You came, Ralph. I knew you would.’
‘Martha – I am not Aub, I mean Ralph. Now look at the photograph, please. I’m trying to help you.’
Her eyelids were now half-closed.
At that moment, the nurse’s mobile phone rang.
Jake swivelled round to look at the nurse.
‘Sorry,’ she apologised. ‘I have to answer this.’ She stood up, and headed for the door. ‘I’m just going to step outside.’
Jake saw her stood in the doorway, with her back to them quietly talking.
Jake held up the photo. ‘Martha, can you tell me who this is – the small boy in the photo?’ Jake put it directly in front of her face so she could see. He held the photo like that for several seconds, hoping beyond hope that when he put it down, she wouldn’t be asleep.
She wasn’t asleep, but she couldn’t answer Jake’s questions because he had made her cry.
Oh god!thought Jake. What was Lawrence going to say when he came back and found her in this state? What would the nurse say when she got off the phone? Jake frantically patted her hand, plucked a tissue from the box on the small table beside the bed and wiped away the tears – but they just kept on coming.
‘There, there.’ Jake said stroking her hand, casting furtive glances at the door. ‘Everything’s going to be alright.’
The nurse did glance over her shoulder, but didn’t seem to clock that anything was amiss.
He had no idea what to say or how to make her stop. But just sitting there holding her hand seemed to do the trick. After a time, she calmed down. Jake threw the last used tissue in thewastepaper bin.
Jake repeated his question. ‘Who should have married you, Martha?’
‘Ralph’s father, of course.’
Jake looked at her. ‘You mean the boy in the photo, Ralph, is your son?’ So the name on the back of the photo wasn’t a mistake, he realised. ‘Is that who you are trying to find?’
Martha focused on Jake. ‘I want to see my son.’
For a moment, Jake thought she was going to start with the crying again. But she must have cried herself out.
She looked at Jake, her eyes searching. ‘Will you find my son, bring him to me?’
‘Yes.’ Jake closed his eyes. He had just made a promise to a dying woman that he had no way of knowing he could keep. Her son could be anywhere in the world. For that matter, her son could be dead. He knew his approximate age – he’d be in his thirties now. But Jake knew he needed more information. He opened his eyes. ‘Martha,’ he said, ‘I need to know …’ He stopped. She was asleep. ‘No, Martha, don’t do this to me.’
At that moment, Lawrence walked into the room. ‘Hey, she’s smiling,’ Lawrence observed. ‘She must have enjoyed your company.’
He didn’t notice the half-empty box of Kleenex or the half-full wastepaper basket.
Jake followed Lawrence out of the apartment and down the stairs, feeling pretty lousy. Martha probably wouldn’t remember a word of the conversation when she woke up. But Jake would.
