Only in Whispers by Jacqueline Grima

Author:Jacqueline Grima [Grima, Jacqueline]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Manatee Books Ltd
Published: 2018-06-27T22:00:00+00:00

Eight

When a crisis hits, some families might stay at home, telling themselves that they will be of no use if they head directly to the scene; that they would only be in the way. Best to wait for news, to construct a central point, a safety zone, where information can be gathered and swapped. Where phonecalls and texts can be intercepted and passed on to the appropriate parties. My family isn’t like that. When one of us is encountering difficulty, the others will immediately be at his or her side until normal life is reinstated. That’s how we have always been; how Aunt Helen taught us to be when she was there to keep our family together.

Once, not long after David and I became a couple, my stepfather had a minor heart attack, one of his colleagues in the local council office where he worked calling an ambulance after he found John collapsed at his desk. All of us – my mother, Aunt Helen, Matthew and myself – flocking to the A&E department like geese, we sat and waited for four or five hours before we finally heard news that he was safe. That, with some care and the right treatment, he would soon be on the mend. Even the boys from the band made an appearance that afternoon, Adam’s mum sending plastic lunch boxes full of sandwiches and cake, a flask of hot coffee. David didn’t understand it. His family distant, even from each other, he couldn’t work out what sitting in an uncomfortable plastic chair for hours on end might achieve. Who it might benefit.

Emily’s labour is almost a month early, my mother adamant, when I finally managed to get hold of her, that there was no need to worry; that lots of babies come into the world at thirty-six or thirty-seven weeks and suffer no ill effects. This isn’t lots of babies, however; this is my brother’s child, my niece, and, pulling the car into the narrow lane that leads to the hospital car park, I pray that the most competent staff are on duty tonight.

The hospital building looms large in the night sky, a sheath of fog hanging, like drapes, around its rooftops. Somewhere inside, my sister-in-law is no doubt trying her best to keep her baby inside for a little while longer, Emily now a patient in the very place where she usually heals the sick. Climbing from the car, I try to imagine how she must be feeling: frightened, perhaps slightly sick at the thought of what the future might hold. I bury my face in the folds of my scarf and follow the signs to the maternity unit.

Mum and John are sitting in the café nearest to the labour ward, my mother’s face pale, free of her usual light layer of make-up. Dark shadows circle her eyes as she stares at the plastic cup full of machine coffee in front of her. On the opposite side of the table, my stepfather rests his head on one hand, his usual brown cardigan ruffled around his shoulders.

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