Chapter Two

Two buses and twenty minutes behind her younger brother, Jen stood up as they slowed in the school rush-hour traffic. She could see the florists, right before the registry office. The bus ground to a halt again.
Her shoulders slumped. It had been another disheartening day of filling in forms and waiting by the telephone. London life and the career she was desperate for both still seemed a million miles away; she felt like she was going nowhere fast.
“Oh, come on” she muttered as the Stopping sign illuminated with its customary green glow. She pushed up towards the closed door, waiting impatiently for it to open.

She stepped down and walked swiftly into the shop; immediately she was vexed further by the pungent aromas which clogged her nose and always clung to his clothes; this place always needed more air. Levi stood leaning forward onto the counter. His face was crinkled in thought as he scratched the pad with his nib. The door closed with its synthesised tinkle, and as it did he glanced up, and automatically slid the doodle he was scribbling under a sheaf of papers. He smiled a tired, slightly pained grin and looked back down.
“I’m going to grab some flowers for mum?”
He didn’t look up, “take what you want.”
Now wasn’t the time.
Jen looked around and picked up up one from a bucket marked Queen of Denmark. It was an intricate, scarlet and pink rose, ‘this'll be nice.’ She began to gather a few and tied them together.
When she was done he looked over.
"Do you want them wrapped?"
Jen nodded and handed them to him.
“Are you going to come, to the hospital?” She knew he wasn’t going to.
She stood waiting for the flowers not knowing how to break the silence.
"There you go."
“Thanks, I’ll see you later?”
He didn’t seem to think that was a question.

She stepped back outside to that anodyne chime, thinking of how much had changed in those last two years. It was that long ago she had stepped into the shop for the first time and met Levi. Mum had been alright then. It was almost their anniversary but nothing was the same, except that chime, and that sweet but sickly smell. She felt it with quiet embarrassment; how she had come back home full with the exhilaration of university, its possibilities, and met him.
It was even with a disdain that she remembered herself just that short time ago; how naïve, how immature she had been! How much she had been in his thrall.

The door had rung with the same cheery chime, as she was stunned for the first time by the funk of perfumed plant and mildew that permeated throughout the place.
It was then she first saw him. He was a crop of dark hair amidst the shadows and the dark walls towards the rear. A nervous pang had started playing inside her chest, from one side to the other. She didn’t get that anymore.

He stood leaning forward onto the counter like he still did. Seeing her he smiled his simple grin that then had seemed so guileless, his face open and his eyes beautiful and uncomplicated.
Instinctively she grinned back at him and as she did, her eyes instantly dropped to the ground. The pang became a small wave of contraction in her belly. He finished whatever he was working out, tapped the base of his pen on the surface and dropped it.
“Hi” he purred, “is there something I can help you with?”
“Oh, no thanks,” she kicked herself, ‘why did you say that?’

Undeterred, almost predatory, he had loped towards her whistling something inaudible on his breath and in an instant he was there, before her. She looked up, trying to ignore his broad shoulders, his eyes, his gorgeous face and overcome that part of her trying to sabotage everything by anaesthetising her jaw.

She caught his eyes as he gazed down at her, his enormous face and brilliant blue pupils filled her vision to bursting. She was completely overcome, and though she couldn’t have articulated any of that feeling just then; she had felt like a tigress bathing in those first warm rays of the savannah’s long, fierce day. Yes, then she had been his.
But not now; not anymore.

Twenty minutes late Jen entered the bright, bleached reception area of St. Edith’s General Infirmary. Ethan was waiting for her. She smiled with her flexing, slightly superior lips at him and he stretched his great awkward mouth from ear to ear in an enormous grin. He was still thinking about Dogg and the key.
“Hey, you” it felt like and age since he had seen her. They never had the chance since she had moved away to university and in with Levi.
“Hello,” she murmured as she was enveloped in his bear hug.
He put her down gently, holding her shoulder in her hand. He looked round at all the people sitting glassy-eyed in the room and dulled his smile.
“How has she been?” In everything she had forgotten how much she missed her mum. She began and then quickly stopped counting when she realised that it had been at least a two weeks since she last visited.
“Yup, OK.” It was the sort of ‘OK’ that means nothing more “they’ve moved her.”
“Oh,” she stood there waiting for him to show her where, feeling ashamed she didn’t know where to find her now.
He didn’t notice “So how are you?” He said breezily as he led her down the corridor.
“Fine” she lied as obviously as she could.
“Any luck with the job?”
‘What exactly was the fucking point of a degree?’ she thought as she turned to look at him, “no, not yet” she said quietly.
“Ok, well the nurse said we can go in her when we’re ready. We have ‘til five. ”
She nodded, and they began to walk softly down the white corridor. It was so quiet in there that it felt like the whole hospital was listening to his trainers squeak underfoot.
“Sorry, how are you anyway?” Her voice faltered and Jen found herself suppressing tears; she didn’t know why.
Ethan guessed it was about mum.
“It’s ok you know. She’s still ok,” he was trying to protect her.
They turned left at the top of the stairs, through the heavy fire doors and then immediately right into the ward. When the nurses smiled at Ethan, Jen felt even more like she was guilty of neglect.

Just round the corner lay their mother; one of seven ladies in the room. She was asleep, but she was so pale as to be imitating death. The thought occurred to both of them and they looked at each other, knowing with heavy hearts exactly what each had just thought. For a moment they simply stared.
“Looks like there’s nothing wrong” Jen said shaking her head.
“Mum” Ethan said trying to wake her gently. She didn't stir.
“Still" he paused, whispering playfully in her ear "she looks good for a woman in her fifties.”
The sleeping figure suddenly shook awake with a snort. She opened her eyes drowsily and as she recognised her only two children peering down, she sunk back into the pillow smiling weakly as though still wrapped in some delightful dream.

“Hello mum” said Jen, it was almost a maternal affection that was piqued at the sight of her mother lying there so slight and so helpless. She completely forgot about herself “it’s so nice to see you.”
“Hello darling” she slurred as she yawned, and pushed ineffectually at the sheets to move herself upright. Ethan helped and gave her a hug as Jen propped up the pillows.
“You smell, oh, like an ashtray” she chided gently, her nose wrinkled, “you were going to give that up?”
He mumbled an indifferent apology and slunk back, looking at the floor
“So how are you today?” Jen intervened, kissing her mother on the forehead and showing her roses she had brought.
“Oh, thank you, they’re lovely”
“I’ll just fill this up for you.”
Jen took the vase and walked off. Ethan looked down at his mother and filled her already filled glass to the brim from the plastic jug.
“Do you know when you’re coming back home?”
“No, but I wish I did” she whispered to him “it smells funny here.”
He smiled and looked round; no one was paying them any attention.
“It was nicer when you were on your own.”
She smiled, but said nothing.
“We miss you at home. Dad says he’ll be round later, when he can get away from work.”
He pulled up two chairs from the old lady asleep in the bed next to them, and sat on one at her side. He took her hand but his eyes avoided hers.
“How is Jenny?”
“She’s well, but I don’t see her that much.” He stopped, “she’s looking for work still. I don’t think she’s really that happy here. If it wasn’t for Levi she would be back in London, I think.”
“Oh, and you?”
“You know me, I’m always grand.”
She grinned, his smile was contagious, he made everyone feel a little better.
“Are you still going?”
“Can’t wait.”
“But you know how I feel?” she moved her hand along the sheet to him.
“Yes mum” he took it.
Jen returned with the pink roses arranged immaculately in their vase. She set them down next to the bed and sat down next to her brother. Annette talked for a while about the awful food and the nice nurse who comes and chats to her. Apparently she’s the youngest by far in the ward, and the second lady on the left has just become a great-grandmother to twins and the woman beside her used to work with your father’s mother in a typing pool. By the time they left an hour later she seemed ten years younger, a colour in cheeks and eyes.
It was only when they were leaving and Jen bent down to kiss her mother on the cheek that Annette hissed into her ear.
“Tell your brother I’m only 49! Oh he’s still winding me up.”
She beamed after them and as they turned the corner she sunk back into the bed with a short sigh. The effort made her fade visibly.