The Green Hills of Home (19 page)

She allowed herself five minutes
sitting in the car to compose herself before forcing herself out and into the
hospital. She made her way along to the ward and to her mother’s cubicle, but
when she got there she found the bed was neatly made and empty. Gwen
immediately began to panic, what had happened to her Mam? Spotting a nurse she
recognised, she ran to her; "Where is she?" she asked anxiously.

"Edith was moved this
morning love, did no one call you let you know?"

"No, they didn’t."

"She’s on floor 5, Ward G."

"Did something happen? Did
she have another stroke?"

"No love, Ward G is a
specialist recuperation ward. A space came up for her and she was moved
straight away."

Relief flooded through Gwen but
she wouldn’t be able to relax completely until she’d seen her Mam for herself.
She took the stairs two at a time rather than waiting for the lift and followed
the signs to Ward G.

When she arrived she introduced
herself to the staff at the nurses’ station who directed her to the room on the
left at the end of the ward.

"She’s in a room?"
checked Gwen.

"Yes, your mother has one of
our private rooms," answered the nurse, seeming surprised by the question.

Gwen could see her mother
searching for her as she walked through the ward. The door to her room was wide
open and she was sitting in a wheelchair close to it obviously looking out for
her daughter. Her eyes lit up and she sat up straighter as she spotted Gwen
coming towards her.

"Hi Mam," said Gwen, as
she bent down to kiss her mother’s cheek.

"Hello darling. I’ve missed
seeing you the last few days," said Edith kindly. Gwen knew that she
wasn’t reproaching her, her mother often told her to take a break from coming
to the hospital every day, and they’d spoken very briefly on the phone each
evening.

"I’ve had a lot on with the
book," said Gwen with a smile, and then swiftly changed the subject, "How
are you feeling?"

"Not too bad thank you love.
Better with this new bed and chair and a little peace and quiet. It’s all
rather peculiar, but the doctors and nurses seem to think I’m supposed to have
all this fuss. I don’t like to ask too many questions, they’re so busy you know."

Gwen looked around her mother’s
room. She couldn’t believe she hadn’t noticed the furniture straight away.
Instead of the ordinary hospital bed and plastic chair that had been provided
on the other ward, her mother now had what looked like a very expensive brand
new bed, with an enormous number of controls by its side. Next to it was a
comfortable looking armchair. The electric wheelchair her mother sat in was
obviously state of the art, and just a few minutes later, Edith delighted in
showing her she could operate it herself. Gwen could barely keep up with her
Mam as she whizzed out of the ward and began picking up real speed along the
corridor.

They went to the coffee shop
together and had a coffee each and an éclair, which Edith insisted upon paying
for. Gwen was filled in on the physiotherapy her mother had received that
morning and the occupational therapy she’d endured afterwards, "They tried
to teach me how to make a cup of tea!" she said laughing, "Honestly,
as if I don’t know how to do that. Then the therapists wouldn’t believe me when
I said you should add the milk to the cup before the water. Well, I certainly
proved her wrong!"

Gwen listened happily to Edith’s
chatter, thrilled that her Mam was feeling so much more positive.

"How’s John?" asked her
mother after Gwen had told her how much Oscar had improved since she’d last
visited.

Gwen braced herself before she
replied simply "He’s gone back to London."

"And when will he be
returning here?" asked Gwen’s Mam with a little smile creeping up at the
corners of her mouth.

 "He won’t be, Mam"

"That’s a shame," said
her mother looking at Gwen questioningly, trying to work out what her daughter
was thinking. "You two seemed to be getting close."

"It was just an editing job
for him Mam."

 "Maybe so, but he certainly
liked you. And he said you were very talented."

"Sorry?"

"When he came here and I
asked him what he thought about your writing. He said you were very talented."

"He was probably just being
polite. He’d hardly tell you of all people what he really thought."

Gwen saw that her mother looked
surprised and was about to begin questioning her and so she quickly changed the
subject, "Have you filled in your meal chart for tomorrow?"

Gwen suspected that her mother
knew that something wasn’t quite right, but although she gave Gwen a wry little
smile, she’d clearly decided not to push her daughter and cheerfully chatted
away about the advantages of hospital chips over hospital mash until it was
time for them to return to the ward.

When visiting time drew to a
close Gwen said goodbye to her mother who was happily settling down with a
couple of magazines she’d bought herself from the hospital shop.

The time hadn’t seemed right to
bring up the house, not with her Mam so excited about her new room and
equipment. There was no reason to upset her just yet, Gwen reasoned.

Gwen went back over to the
nurses’ station – she was determined to discover what had caused the sudden
vast improvement in her mother’s care. She was in luck; a consultant who
confirmed he was now in charge of her mother’s case was just discussing
something with one of the nurses, and was happy to fill her in on what had been
going on.

"We were instructed by Mr
Thatcher to move your mother to a private room. He faxed a list of equipment
that should be provided for her and details of the therapy he believed she
needed. He’d obviously done his homework. Everything is to be paid for by him"

"What do you mean he’s
paying?"

"There’s a per night fee for
the room and…."

"And the equipment and
therapy?" Gwen interjected.

"The equipment isn’t what we
usually provide in this hospital. We ordered it at Mr Thatcher’s request. The
therapists are private. It was suggested that your mother be moved to a private
facility but Mr Thatcher wouldn’t hear of that, he felt the nearest one was too
far for your mother’s visitors to travel to regularly."

Gwen was completely dumbstruck.

"He also requested that I
take over as your mother’s consultant," he added.

Gwen thanked the doctor for his
help and made her way to her car still stunned by what she’d learnt. She drove
in a daze back to the farmhouse, the house which would only be her home for a
very short time now, yet hadn’t really felt like one since John had left.

Although John had broken Gwen’s
heart, she knew she would always be grateful to him for what he’d done for her
mother. Without his interference Gwen suspected she might never again have been
able to enjoy something as simple as the cup of coffee she’d shared with Edith
away from a hospital bed.

His actions towards her mother
didn’t fit with the way in which he had treated her. There was a part of Gwen
that felt a little resentful that it was John who’d managed to make such an
impact on her mother’s quality of life. And just why had he done it? Gwen knew
she was unlikely to ever uncover the answer to that mystery. She tried not to
think about it: if she allowed herself to, then she was just one step away from
going back to why he’d left her.

Bronwyn and Brian seemed to know
not to question Gwen about her unusual mood when she arrived for work, though
they did throw each other a quick glance when they saw the scowl on Gwen’s face
and her red eyes. It was the day of the auction. Gwen had considered calling in
sick but knew that wouldn’t be fair – her bosses had always been so
accommodating to her, and they’d struggle if she wasn’t there for the lunchtime
rush.

Gwen appeared to be close to
tears and in a world of her own for most of her shift. Bronwyn followed Gwen
around quietly swapping round plates she gave to the wrong customers and picked
up things she inadvertently knocked off tables.

As Gwen was hanging up her apron
at the end of her shift Bronwyn called out casually, "Thanks for today
love" and came over to her. "I double booked for tomorrow’s shift.
You and Mary are both on for lunchtime. Completely my fault. Mary’s happy to
cover it, so don’t you worry about coming in love."

"Thanks Bron," replied
Gwen, with a small, sad smile, knowing full well that Bronwyn would never
double book a shift, and very grateful that she would now have a few days to
pull herself together before she was due back at the tea rooms. Perhaps she
could make a start looking for somewhere to live and get her life back on track
again. But not as it had been though. How could she never have realised there
was such a huge, gaping hole in her life? A life which she’d been pretty
content with before meeting John, but which she knew would not fulfil her now.

One thing was for sure: she
wouldn’t be stupid enough to fall for someone like John again. The phrase ‘once
bitten, twice shy’ came to mind as Gwen resolved to be far more careful with
her heart in future.

Once she was home Gwen didn’t
really know what to do with herself. There was no need for her to pack yet; the
agents had written to tell her that only after the auction would she be told
how long it would be until she had to move out. It was hours until she could go
to visit her mother. Oh, her Mam! How was she going to continue hiding just how
much John had hurt her? And how was she going to tell her that any hope they’d
had of saving their home was gone: Gwen was ashamed that she still hadn’t found
the strength to tell her mother the truth about the dire situation she was now
in.  There’d been no point in approaching any other mortgage companies. Without
her book deal to show them she was sure they’d just laugh in her face again.

Gwen looked at the clock. It was
well past lunchtime but she wasn’t hungry, and anyway cooking would only make
her remember the happy times she and John had spent together in the kitchen.
The whole house was full of him, every inch of it seemed to scream out
something that he’d done or said to her. Hating herself for it, she knew that
this made her love her home even more.

She thought she’d make herself a
coffee to fill in the time, but after jabbing randomly at a few promising
looking buttons on the machine, she gave up, cross and frustrated with herself,
and furious with the stupid contraption - a daily reminder of John whenever she
saw it staring at her, looking completely out of place on the side of her
kitchen. She settled for a cup of tea instead. She drank it whilst glaring at
the chrome monstrosity, which beeped indignantly as if daring her to have
another go at using it. She would have thrown it out of the window if she
weren’t worried she’d break her back doing so.

At least the auction would be
over by now. She could move on with her life. She should probably call the
landlord later to find out how long she had left in her home.

Gwen decided to go for a walk,
she suddenly felt desperate to get out of the house. Oscar looked after her
longingly as she went, but she promised him she’d be home soon. She hated to
leave him alone when he could obviously tell there was something wrong, but she
really needed some fresh air and to distance herself from all the memories the
house contained for a little while.

The sky was grey, thick with
heavy rain clouds. The light made the countryside appear even more rugged than
normal. Gwen knew better than to stray too far from the house on a day like
this, the locals often said that after you’d been caught in a mist on their
hills once you didn’t do it again.

Just why had she fallen for
John’s lies? This one question was all that kept going round and round in
Gwen’s mind. How could she have been so stupid? Her Mam and Dad had always
taught her to stand on her own two feet and there she was, with the opportunity
of a lifetime, and she messed it up by getting involved with her editor – why
had she let her heart rule her head and not been more practical? Why had she
not thought things through?

Even though Gwen had only known
John for a short time she’d believed that she’d been right about his character.
Yes, he could be a little gruff, but underneath that she was sure she’d
discovered a softer side: someone who was kind and thoughtful, with a great
sense of humour. And who was also incredibly handsome.

Above all she’d thought she could
trust him. How could she have been so mistaken?

What had she ever done to him to
make him hate her so much that he would treat her this way? She’d been planning
the rest of her life with him. Losing her book deal and the house hurt, but it
paled into insignificance compared to losing John. She hated that this was the
case.

Gwen was pulled out of her
thoughts by a deep voice asking, "May I join you?"

Despite her anger and heartache,
Gwen’s heart still leapt when she turned and saw John standing beside her.

She managed to compose herself
quickly and only a glimmer of the emotion she actually felt was spotted by John
as it flashed across her face.

"What are you doing here?"
she asked frostily.

"I came to talk to you,"
he replied simply.

"Well I don’t want to hear
anything you have to say," said Gwen as she turned to leave.

"Wait," said John as he
took hold of her arm firmly. "I need you to listen. If you still want
nothing to do with me after I’ve finished then I’ll leave."

Gwen sat down and looked at John
challengingly.

"Go on then," she said,
her eyes blazing with rage.

John took a deep breath as if to
ready himself and then began.

"First of all, I want you to
know that I had absolutely nothing to do with your deal being dropped."