‘I was having such a lovely dream. I didn’t want to wake up.’ Willow roused and pushed herself upwards, her pale face a picture of eagerness, unusual for early morning. Unusual for Willow full stop.
Robin leant across and took one of the drinks from the side, her movements steady, her body now on remote control.
‘That’s nice, darling, but here, drink this. It’s special. From the health food shop. A mixture of vitamins and the nice lady said I could put it in your favourite drink. Look, I have one too.’
The time for worrying about lies was gone as Robin pointed, then passed Willow the glass. Sometimes she refused to eat or drink, and sometimes didn’t have the energy or strength to hold a spoon but she took the fizzy mixture with ease. Holding the glass in two hands, Willow leant forward and rested it on her knees.
‘Let me tell you about my dream… it wassovivid.’ Willow stirred the drink with the straw, eyes wide and innocent as she waited for Robin to answer.
‘Go on then, but drink your drink, it’s good for you.’
Willow nodded and put the straw to her lips, but instead of sipping, lowered the glass and related the dream.
‘I was in the most beautiful garden. Oh, Mum, you should’ve seen it. The grass was so green it was like emeralds, velvety and soft and I could feel it under my feet.’
With that, still holding the glass with one hand, Willow pulled back the covers with the other and checked her soles, rubbing them with her fingers, a bemused look on her face. ‘It was so real. I swear I felt the grass and the dew.’
Robin pulled the covers back over Willow’s legs, wanting to keep her warm while she chattered on, becoming more animated by the second.
‘And the angels were there singing and dancing around me, holding my hands,’ again Willow checked, looking at her palm this time, turning it over as if remembering a touch. ‘And they were excited about something…’ she looked up and around the room, searching for a memory and when it came her face lit up.
‘I know. I know where we were.’
Robin had to ask, becoming swept along by one of Willow’s rare moments of complete lucidity. ‘Where?’
‘Lourdes! We were in a garden in Lourdes and the church bells were ringing and the angels were singing because they were happy… and they were telling me something, too. One of them whispered in my ear.’ Willow touched her lobe.
‘I can feel it, just there, where her lips touched me, soft and gentle. I know I can. But I can’t hear what she said.’ Willow closed her eyes as if in meditation and with her free hand stirred her drink, then went to take a sip.
Robin watched as her own heart almost stopped, as the straw touched Willow’s lips. But again something halted her. Willow looked like she was tuning in, listening to words on a radio that only she could hear.
‘Love, drink your drink. There’s a good girl.’
Willow had responded and took a sip then grimaced and spat into the sleeve of her pyjama top. ‘Urgh, that’s horrible…’
Lowering the glass her lips began moving again, her eyes misted over, then she spoke, softly, full of awe as she turned her gaze to Robin.
‘Mum,’ almost a whisper. ‘I remember what she said…’
Robin had the strangest feeling. Her arms were prickled by goosebumps, and she felt odd. As though her resolve was being drained away while a question rushed from her lips unbidden ‘Who? What did she say?’
Willow’s olive eyes had turned the deepest pools of green. ‘My angel. She said we have to go to Lourdes because… because that’s where I’ll find the answer.’
Robin held in a gasp, caught it in her chest as Willow continued.
‘I knew they would help me… I knew they’d hear my prayers and find the answer. Oh, Mum, can you believe it, can you believe it?’
Robin couldn’t. She also couldn’t move, not at first because a wave of something ice cold washed through her veins but the second it was banished, it was replaced with heat. The most overwhelming rush of warmth, like her whole body was basking in the light of an indescribably beautiful moment.
Her hands trembled, as did her voice when she finally made her lips move.
‘Yes, my love, I believe.’ But as she said the words Willow lifted the glass and placed the straw to her lips and Robin panicked. Grabbing the drink resulted in a startled look from Willow who recovered and asked a question.
‘Mum, can we go, to see Uncle Arty in Lourdes, can we, Mum? Please say yes. That’s where the angels told me to go… it’s where I’ll find Maya. I can feel it right here.’ Willow touched her chest. ‘They said I’ll be happy there so that must be what they mean…’
Without warning Willow pushed the covers back and leapt from the bed while with trembling hands Robin removed the other glass from the bedside table, watching as Willow grabbed the white box of ashes from her dresser and clutched it to her chest.
Willow didn’t say a word, instead she waited, her stance firm, eyes boring holes into Robin. The room was warm, the sun shone brightly through the windows casting silver streaks onto Willow. Radiant, surrounded by a halo of light.
