The Lost Valley (The Tasmanian Tales Book 2) by Jennifer Scoullar

Author:Jennifer Scoullar [Scoullar, Jennifer]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Pilyara Press
Published: 2018-08-19T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter 22

Emma arranged the big bunch of flowers in the vase on the table beside her mother’s wheelchair: tulips, daffodils, hyacinths and Dutch iris – blooms that could leave no doubt that spring had arrived. Emma would have preferred a native bouquet of waratahs and leatherwood, but Mum was a traditionalist.

Eileen managed a lop-sided smile. Six years since the stroke, and her mother had made tremendous progress. Therapists at Dr Dennisdeen’s New Town Rehabilitation Hospital had worked with her as an inpatient at first, and later as an outpatient. Mum had painstakingly remastered the alphabet and could read simple texts. Using playing cards and numbered blocks, she’d learned how to count again. Emma was proud of how hard she tried with her daily memory exercises, along with her muscle and balance training.

Mum could walk now, with the help of a stick; feed herself, although handling cutlery was still a struggle. With young Jack away fighting in New Guinea, she listened non-stop to the wireless, eager for news of the war. She also loved listening to serials, plays and talent quests, and knew the times and days of the week of her favourite programs.

A speech therapist came by twice a week, although progress on that front had been depressingly slow. Dr Dennisdeen said that at six years out, not much more recovery could be expected.

But last week, a miracle had happened. Her mother had started to talk. Emma liked to think the change had been triggered by moving into this beautiful house. Mum was managing two-word sentences, speaking out of the side of her mouth, which made it hard for strangers, but Emma could understand her. Every word Mum uttered was like music to her ears, and proved beyond doubt that her mother’s mind was still sharp.

Mum pointed to the wall calendar. ‘Your birthday.’

Emma beamed. That’s right, next week was her birthday. She looked around with satisfaction at the sunny room filled with light. At the adjoining bathroom, the elegant furniture and the French doors opening onto a private garden. The rest of the house was equally as impressive. A big, modern kitchen that Elsie loved. A study that could double as a guest room, and a garage for her new car. Even a small conservatory, where Mum could grow flowers. And since last week, this house was Emma’s, the title in her name, and her name alone. Not bad for a single woman who hadn’t yet turned twenty-four.

Maybe she’d get a kitten for Mum, to sit on her lap and keep her company. Emma had desperately missed that animal connection over the last few years. The Beaumaris Zoo had closed shortly after Karma died, and she’d scarcely patted so much as a puppy since. It had been too painful.

‘Tomorrow I’ll help you bake me a cake.’ Emma kissed her mother. ‘Right now, I have to go to work.’

Mum frowned. ‘Work?’

‘You know. I’m a nurse, at the hospital.’

Mum opened her mouth to speak, but only managed a grunt, tongue exploring her lips, like it hadn’t felt them before.

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