Page 113 of The Last Kiss

“Jules!” Liv chides so I pull a face at her too.

“Good luck,” he tells her before leaving the room, a nurse bustling in shortly to disturb the dark silence Liv and I are embroiled in. Her phone pings as I’m being hooked up to various beeping machines and she glances down at me, sighing out a deep breath before her eyes find mine.

“Don’t kill me.”

I give her a weak smile. “Well now I probably will.”

“Mum’s here,” she blurts.

“What the actual fuck, Liv? You can’t be for real.” It clicks a switch inside my head. “That’s how we got home isn’t it? Mum and Dad paid for that private ambulance.”

She doesn’t get a chance to say anything more because the door reopens and a woman, who’s vaguely familiar looking, walks through.

“Julia,” the stranger in a floral skirt and home knitted jumper steps up for the bed and grasps my hand. “Oh, my goodness. Look at you. My baby.”

I want to huff a breath but that would mean me having a breath to spare.

She leans in, Lily of the Valley sparking locked memories. “Is that sunburn on your nose?”

And that’s my mother.

“Snow burn.”

“Oh, Julia. When Liv called I didn’t quite believe it. I never thought this would happen.”

I shift on the plastic mattress. If I could gain an inch away from her this situation would feel a whole lot better.

I open my mouth, but I haven’t got a word to say. Not one single word.

“I’m so very sorry, so sorry. I’ve been so foolish.” It’s okay. Apparently Mum is going to talk for both of us. “I tried so hard to protect you.”

“Listen,” Liv cuts in. “I’m going to go and get a coffee.”

Mum nods while I send Liv a stink eye.

After she’s left, Mum spends some time faffing, tucking in my blankets, fluffing the edges of the pillows, smoothing the ends of my tangled hair. I wonder if I’ve still got bed hair from my last night with… Stop it, Julia.

Sleep edges its way back in, crawling in with a stealth like steal.

Mum’s waffling on, talking as she titivates around me, always busy. The woman never ever stopped. Always wringing her hands, always looking like the world might end at any moment now.

“Do you need a drink, baby?”

I try to laugh, lips dry though, cracking with the effort. I’m her baby now?

It’s a long time since I’ve been this woman’s baby.

“Mum, stop.” I summon the words. “I don’t need you here. I don’t know why you’re here.”

“This is all my fault.” More hand wringing. The woman is a master at saintly supplication.

“It’s not.” For fuck’s sake why is talking so hard? “You didn’t give me meningitis, and contrary to what you and dad once thought about me, I didn’t catch it from anyone else either.”

“We just wanted to keep you safe. That’s all we ever wanted, for you and Liv to be nice sensible girls, safe, protected.”

“You did that job real good, Mum. Two years ago, you didn’t even come to see me. I didn’t do things the way you wanted, and you cut me off. Disappointed in the failure I was.”

“No. I didn’t.”