Realising Aunt Dorothy was responsible for the commotion, Hannah breathed the aroma of herbs and spices. She shot up in bed. Those weren’t breakfast smells and grabbing her phone off the bedside table, she frantically questioned just how long she’d slept. Relieved it was only 9.30am, she threw herself back against her pillow. Although a lie-in for her, it could have been far worse.
Laying there, she supposed she should get up and flipping the duvet over to one side, swung her legs off the bed. As her feet hit the ground she cocked her head, pleased to note her foot was almost pain free. Again, thanks to Dorothy, Hannah acknowledged.
Hannah couldn’t deny her gratitude as she recalled the care Dorothy had provided since the road bike incident. As soon as Janice had left them to it, Dorothy had swung into action and insisted on an ice pack for Hannah’s swollen ankle. Unable to find one, or indeed any frozen peas, she’d utilised what was in the freezer and produced a bag of frozen chips. Dorothy had been playing nurse extraordinaire ever since.
Putting on her dressing gown, Hannah stuffed her phone into one of the pockets and headed downstairs. At the same time appreciating how wonderful it had been to be taken care of, instead of doing the caring, for a change. Not that it had been an easy transition. It had always been Hannah’s job to make sure everyone else had everything they needed and handing over that responsibility felt akin to making herself redundant.
As she neared the kitchen, her ears pricked at the sound of Dorothy talking and wondering who to, Hannah stopped to listen.
“I’d forgotten how much I love cooking,” Dorothy said. “I know, I know, I could easily do this at home. But nothing tastes the same without you there to enjoy it with me.”
Hannah’s heart went out to her aunt. The woman was obviously talking to Uncle Denis.
“And microwave meals aren’t so bad once you get used to them.”
Hannah pictured her aunt sat in a cold soulless kitchen. Spoon in hand, Dorothy looked down at a plate of watery ready-made beef stew. Hannah sighed. That was no life for anyone.
“Don’t worry. I’m not going to get all morbid on you. Not today.” Dorothy exhaled a happy sigh. “I’m enjoying myself too much. I can’t tell you how good it is to feel useful again.” She paused. “You should’ve seen that poor girl’s foot. I did what I could, but you never know with ankle injuries. I have a feeling I might be here for a while.”
Hearing the hope in Dorothy’s voice brought a lump to Hannah’s throat.
“And to have someone to properly chat to is wonderful. No offence, Denis. You’re a great listener, but you have to agree conversations are better when they’re two-way.”
Hannah looked down at her foot. The swelling had gone, and the pain was nowhere near what it was, but having heard what she’d just heard, she couldn’t let Dorothy know that. Hannah took a few steps back and practised a limp. Hoping it looked genuine, she coughed to signal her arrival as she entered the kitchen.
Hannah couldn’t believe the sight that met her, and her eyes widened. “Someone’s been busy.” Mountains of chopped vegetables sat on the kitchen worktop and pans of ingredients boiled on the stove. A meat joint roasted in the oven and rolled out pastry lay in a baking tray awaiting its filling. Hannah’s mouth watered at the delectable smells floating on the air. “I’m impressed.”
Stood at the stove stirring, Dorothy looked Hannah’s way. “I thought a spot of batch cooking was in order.”
Hannah let out a laugh. “A spot? It’s like a factory production line in here.”
Dorothy grinned. “I hope you don’t mind, but you had so much food, it would’ve been a shame to let it go to waste.”
Hannah thought back to her unnecessary shopping trip. Tossing things willy-nilly into her trolley, she hadn’t thought to check sell-by dates. “I did go a bit overboard at the supermarket.”
“Shopping for one does take a little getting used to. The money I wasted when Denis first…” Dorothy’s voice trailed off and a sadness crossed her face. However, as quickly as it had appeared it was gone, and she fixed another smile on her lips. “Tea? Coffee?” she asked, turning her attention to the kettle.
“Here, let me.” Hannah limped forward to intervene. “Your hands are already full with all this.” She indicated Dorothy’s food prep.
“You’ll do no such thing. You sit down. Rest your foot.”
As Hannah sat down at the table, her eyes were drawn to Uncle Denis’s urn. He and Aunt Dorothy hadn’t only been married for over fifty years, they’d been inseparable. For Dorothy, losing him must have been like losing a part of herself and Hannah could only imagine how lonely the woman must feel.
“I bet you think I’m mad for bringing him with me,” Dorothy said, following Hannah’s gaze.
“Not at all,” Hannah replied. Although if her aunt had asked her that prior to her eavesdropping she’d have had to say yes.
“And, no doubt, you heard me talking to him just then, whichmustmake you think I’m barmy.”
Hannah felt herself blush. It was wrong of her to listen in.
“Don’t worry. I sometimes wonder if I’m losing it myself.” Handing Hannah her drink, Dorothy took the seat opposite. “You were limping on the wrong foot just now, by the way.”
Embarrassed, Hannah opened her mouth to explain, but Dorothy started talking again before she got the chance.
“When a partner dies, it’s not just your best friend you lose, it’s life as you’ve always known it. Be it your day-to-day routine, social settings, or even what you’d normally watch on television, that one death impacts on everything.” Dorothy sighed. “A bit like you at the supermarket, I suppose, doing a monthly shop for three. You knew Beth and Archie weren’t going to be here to eat any of it, but it’s automatic. You buy what you always buy because that’s the way it’s always been. You don’t have to think about it, it’s in your psyche.”
Hannah fully understood where Dorothy was coming from.
