All of Us Are Broken by Fiona Cummins

Author:Fiona Cummins [Cummins, Fiona]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Pan Macmillan
Published: 2023-05-29T17:00:00+00:00

22

Pitlochry: 7.41 p.m.

At night, whenever she closed her eyes, Galen saw her dead father’s face.

In the daytime, it was easier. The light chased away the hollows beneath his eyes and that odd twist of his mouth and the mottling that created jigsaw patterns on his skin. She could distract herself with homework or television, forgetting for an hour or two.

But in the dark, those haunted hours that stretched from here to there, she could not hide from the memories of that day. She could not hide from the monster that death had made of her daddy.

Evening had crept up on them while they’d stopped for a quick bite to eat at a pub in Pitlochry – although Tom had refused dinner – and now a dense blackness surrounded their car. Galen tried to blink away the past but her mind wouldn’t let her. She gazed out of the car window, unseeing, and let it claim her.

The house had been too warm. Her mother had turned up the heating because she was worried about Charlie getting cold during those never-ending December days. In her distress, she’d forgotten to turn down the thermostat. When Galen had let herself in, she’d felt as though she was stepping into another country.

She’d shrugged off her coat, blazer and jumper, but even then, she was still too hot. The air was uncomfortable, suffocating. She would make a cold drink, she decided. Fill it with ice. And wash her hands. But first she would check on her father, as she did every afternoon when she got home from school.

Galen had known for thirteen weeks, five days and twenty-one hours that her father was dying. Her mother had broken this news to her while Tom was at a birthday sleepover.

‘When’s Dad going to tighten my skates?’ Galen was helping her mother lay the table for dinner, a Friday night treat of a takeaway. ‘Isla wants to go to Roller Kingdom tomorrow and I said I’d go with her.’

Christine had put down a plate, an odd expression on her face. ‘Sweetheart, I can help you with that. Dad isn’t going to be able to do that sort of thing again.’

Galen, who had been reaching into the cupboard for glasses, turned to her mother, one in each hand. She’d known her father was seriously ill, but she’d always expected him to recover.

‘What do you mean?’

Christine’s voice was gentle. ‘Dad isn’t going to get better.’

‘But he won’t get worse, right?’ Galen could feel her panic rising.

‘I’m afraid that’s the only thing the doctor is sure of. I’m sorry, honey. I know it’s difficult to hear.’

‘Is he going to die?’

‘Yes.’

‘Soon?’

‘We don’t know how long he’s got. A few months, probably.’ Christine held out her arms to her daughter but Galen did not – could not – move.

The panic building inside her reached its apex and tipped into the kind of free-falling descent that snatched her breath from her. Galen dropped the two glasses she was holding and they hit the kitchen floor, splintering into dozens of pieces.

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