He checked the water level in the kettle and clicked it on ready to make a cuppa. If she wasn’t back by the time he’d drank it, he’d start to ring around. He felt glad of the noise as the water began to boil. Silence gave him the opportunity to think, something he tried not to do of late – about his mum, about what was happeningtoher.
He realised that they were as bad as each other on that score. She wasn’t ready to discuss her actual cancer and he wasn’t really ready to listen. Yes, he’d tried to push her on the matter, but he could have easily contacted the doctor, the nurse, or even a cancer charity for information, none of which he’d done. And, up until now, he fooled himself into thinking this was out of respect for his mother. In reality, he supposed they werebothjust burying their heads in the sand; a situation that Dan knew needed tochange.
He headed over to the table, and his mother’s laptop. Switching it on, he watched it fire up into life, determined to find out all he could about his mother’s illness. He clicked onto the Internet and typed oesophageal cancer into the search bar, an endless list of sites from all sorts of organisations suddenly appeared in front of him. With articles from theNHS,Cancer Research,Medicine.net, andMacmillanstaring back at him, he geared himself up ready to start reading, feeling almost irritated when his mobile began to ring, breaking hisconcentration.
Dan pulled his phone out of his pocket, he didn’t recognise the number.Oh God,hethought.Mum.
He cautiously answered the call, dreading what he might be about to hear. ‘Hello,’hesaid.
Dan listened to the voice on the other end, his eyes narrowed. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing and told himself that this had to be a joke. ‘What?’ he asked. ‘When?Why?’
Disbelief turned to horror as the caller continued to talk. ‘Okay,’ he said. ‘I’ll be rightthere.’
After he ended the call, Dan rushed out of the kitchen and down the hall. He grabbed his keys from his jacket and ran out the door, before quickly making his way to his car. Once inside, he couldn’t seem to make the key fit the ignition. ‘Come on! Come on!’ he said, before finally managing to slot it into the keyhole. He started up the engine; he quickly shoved the gearstick into first and, with a hasty look over his shoulder, raced off down the street. His mind swirled in confusion. ‘There must be some mistake,’ he insisted. ‘This can’t behappening.’
Dan overtook one vehicle after another, every set of traffic lights he neared seemed against him. He thought he’d never reach his destination. Not that he could say he was relieved when he finally did. He knew he should find a space, but at first glance he couldn’t see one and, rather than drive around in circles, he stopped his car on the spot. Dan didn’t care if he’d blocked someone in, he got out and hurried towards the building, he told himself that a disgruntled motorist was the least of his problems. Dan charged up the steps and, once inside, headed straight for thereception.
‘I’m here about my mother,’ he said, trying to catch hisbreath.
‘Name,’ said the woman behindthedesk.
Much to Dan’s annoyance, she didn’t even have the decency tolookup.
‘Gerry,’ he said. ‘Sorry, Geraldine. GeraldinePalmer.’
The woman slowly tapped the keys on her computer, while Dan impatiently willed her to get on with it. He absorbed his surroundings; the inside of a police station was the last place he expected to findhimself.
‘Oh yes, Geraldine Palmer,’ the receptionist eventually said. At last giving him her full attention, she fixed him with a mocking stare. ‘It says here she was arrested during adrugraid.’
‘Yes, well,’ said Dan. ‘There’s obviously been amisunderstanding.’
‘They all say that, Sir,’ shereplied.
‘No, you don’t understand. My mum,she’ssick.’
‘Yes, that’s something else they all say too.’ Her condescending attitude continued as she indicated to the waiting area. ‘Now if you could take a seat over there please. I’ll go and find out what’shappening.’
As she reluctantly rose to her feet and disappeared out back, Dan didn’t know what to think. He began to pace up and down, desperate for someone to come and tell him what the hell was going on. His mother, a drug bust, there had to have been a mix up somewhere along the line. His mum was the most anti-drug individual he’d ever known. He imagined her stuck in some dank, dark police cell, insisting she must be terrified by now. In her condition, he dreaded to think what that was doing to any health shehadleft.
He finally took a seat and dropped his head in his hands for a moment. He looked up again and glanced around at his surroundings. With wanted posters showing video stills of shoplifters, burglars, and pickpockets, he knew his mum didn’t belong here. Something these police officers had to have realisedbynow.
The sound of voices, at last, began to filter through from out back and Dan strained to hear. Convinced one of them belonged to his mother, he struggled to make out her words. Everything sounded cordial enough. Although in her shoes, he couldn’t understand why she wasn’t screaming and shouting. That’s what he’d be doing after a wrongfularrest.
The door at the side of the reception desk suddenly opened. ‘Mum,’ he said. Relieved to see her, he jumped up from his seat. ‘Areyouokay?’
She smiled. ‘I’m fine. Why wouldn’tIbe?’
As she turned to the big, burly officer accompanying her, Dan couldn’t believe his mother’s response. He couldn’t believe her relaxed demeanour. This had to be a dream, or more to the point, anightmare.
‘Thank- you,’ she said. ‘You’ve beenverykind.’
‘Just doing my job, Madam,’ the police officerreplied.
‘Kind,’ said Dan, doing his utmost to keep calm. ‘Mum, these peoplearrestedyou.’
‘And it won’t be happening again,’ said the officer. ‘Will it, Mrs.Palmer?’
‘It certainly will not,’ shereplied.
