59 Memory Lane

by Celia Anderson

  May is lying on her side on the hearth rug, one of her slippers dangerously close to the electric fire. What he can see of her face is an alarming shade of putty and there’s a livid red mark across her temple.

  ‘Oh shit. Oh bugger,’ Andy mutters, beads of sweat appearing on his forehead. He drops to his knees by her side and reaches for her wrist to try to take her pulse but his first aid knowledge is ridiculously inadequate and he’s not really sure where he should be pressing. His heart is pounding now and he fumbles in his pocket for his phone and then realises he’s left it with Tamsin.

  ‘Hang on, May, I’ll get an ambulance,’ he says to the prone figure, grabbing May’s phone from the sideboard.

  ‘Is she breathing?’ asks the operator, when he’s connected.

  ‘I don’t know!’ Andy’s voice comes out way too loud and he takes a deep breath. ‘Can’t you just send an ambulance without all these questions? We’re wasting time. If she’s not already dead she looks like she’s dying.’

  ‘An ambulance crew is already on its way.’ The telephone lady’s voice is soothing and Andy tries hard to get a grip. ‘They’ll be with you very soon. I just need you to sit by the patient and let me know what you see. Then I can talk you through anything that we can do before the team reaches you.’

  ‘Oh. Right. Well, she’s a horrible colour and I can’t hear her breathing.’

  ‘Is she bleeding at all?’

  Andy checks. ‘No, not that I can see.’

  ‘Does the lady wear false teeth? If so, could you remove them for me in case they obstruct her airway?’

  Andy looks down at the poor, crumpled figure of his friend. Can he put his hand in her mouth and pull her teeth out? What would she think of that? But there’s no choice, so he steels himself and eases her jaw open, gently wiggling the dentures until they slide out into his other palm. Yuk. Slimy. But as her mouth closes again, May makes a little noise in her throat.

  ‘She’s alive! I heard her groan a bit.’

  ‘Well done. And her teeth are out of the way? Good. Well, I think the team should be with you any second now.’

  Right on cue, Andy hears the wail of the siren as the ambulance trundles down the steep street. He dashes into the kitchen, deposits the dentures in the sink and flings the back door open, wiping his hand on his jeans.

  ‘Thank goodness. She’s in here,’ he shouts, as the man and woman head for May’s garden gate, each carrying a huge holdall.

  Andy can see Tamsin’s face at the open window. She leans forward. ‘Daddy? Is May deaded?’

  ‘No, love. She’s just fallen over. These people are going to go and look at her now to try and pick her up, OK?’

  To his intense relief Andy sees Emily fling open Julia’s front door. ‘What’s happened?’ she calls, jogging across the road.

  ‘I think May’s had some sort of fall. She’s slumped on the rug in front of the fire and she’s banged her head. I thought I was too late but she made a little noise. Tam’s on her own in there.’ Andy’s babbling now. He points to where Tamsin’s leaning as far out of the kitchen window as possible to see what’s going on.

  Julia’s at her front door now, pale and staring.

  ‘Go back inside, Gran. May’s had a fall of some sort but the ambulance people are with her,’ Emily shouts. ‘I’ll stay with Andy and see if I can help.’

  ‘Bring Tamsin over here, dear,’ says Julia, her voice easily carrying across the narrow street. There’s authority in it, and calm assurance. Julia’s in charge again, any weakness forgotten for the moment. Andy breathes a huge sigh of relief that someone has seen his dilemma and is stepping in.

  ‘Tam, we’re going over the road to Julia’s,’ he shouts to the little girl. ‘Go and get your school bag and put a couple of books in it for Julia to read to you.’

  ‘OK, but I can read them to her,’ she says. ‘Shall I bring Stripey?’

  ‘No, she needs to stay put in case she has her kittens. Hurry up, sweetheart.’

  Emily’s inside May’s house now, and Andy thinks it must be getting pretty crowded in there so he takes Tamsin’s hand and holds it tightly as they cross the road.

  ‘You don’t need to squeeze my fingers like that, Dad,’ she says. ‘I know how to do roads. Not the big one up the hill, but I’ve looked both ways already. Is May going to be better soon?’

  ‘I hope so. The ambulance people are seeing to her. I’ll go back to them now you’re here and you can read Julia a story.’

  Julia holds out a hand and Tamsin slips her own into it comfortably. ‘We’ll be fine, won’t we, Tamsin?’ she says. ‘I’ve got some of those teacakes you like for supper.’

  ‘Can we toast them on the fire?’

  Andy can hear Julia chatting away to his daughter as they move into the house. ‘Yes, I’ve got the long toasting fork out ready. I like a nice fire even in the summer. My house is always chilly in the evenings. Emily was planning to do the teacakes with me, just like she did when she was a little girl like you. We can save her one, though, and one for Daddy.’

  He turns to go, feeling the weight of responsibility shift for a little while. Now all he needs to do is make sure May’s being properly looked after.

  Inside the living room, Emily’s keeping well out of the way as the two paramedics work on the small figure on the floor.

  ‘What’s happening?’ Andy whispers.

  ‘They’re giving her some oxygen, ready for putting her in the ambulance.’

  ‘Have they said what they think’s wrong?’

  Emily shakes her head and they watch the team work in silence. May looks worse, if anything, and Andy’s finding it hard to believe she can come out of this unscathed. ‘She’s a hundred and ten, you know,’ he says to the man, when he stands up for a moment to get his bag.

  ‘So I’m told,’ he replies, ‘but her blood pressure’s fine and she’s breathing on her own. We’re just topping her up with oxygen to be on the safe side. We’ll be taking her to hospital very shortly. Does either of you want to come with us or is there a family member to contact?’

  Andy and Emily look at each other. ‘There’s nobody but us. I should go with May,’ he says, ‘but what about Tam?’

  ‘Don’t worry, I’ll go,’ Emily says patting his arm. ‘You’re needed here. I’ll pop over and get my bag and tell Gran what’s happening, OK? Back in five minutes. But I’d better take the new hire car rather than go in the ambulance so I can get home again. It’s still parked up at the pub.’

  ‘I don’t mind coming to fetch you.’

  ‘But there’s Tamsin. You’d have to ask Vi again and it might be hours before I can come back.’

  Andy nods, deeply grateful that she’s doing all this without a fuss. Feeling a stab of disloyalty, he finds himself imagining how Allie would have reacted to this crisis. Not as calmly as Emily, he has to admit. She was always caring and loving, but in an emergency she tended to hyperventilate. He drags his mind away from Allie. This is about May.

  The old lady is wrapped snugly in a blanket and on a stretcher by now. Andy thinks her face is a little less grey and clammy but it’s hard to tell with the oxygen mask obscuring most of it. Her beautiful white hair is in disarray. She won’t like that, he thinks. But Emily will deal with it. He’s sure she’ll have a brush or comb with her. He imagines her checking her bag’s contents now. What will she think is essential kit? Phone, charger, water bottle, notebook, pen, Kindle, make-up, emergency packet of Polos, chewing gum.

  Andy’s seen Emily’s handbag – it’s made of tapestry and is the size of a small backpack with lots of pockets. It reminds him of the one Mary Poppins used in the old film. She’d let it fall open the night they were out for a meal and he’d been amazed at the number of belongings she considers it necessary to carry around.

  The team is ready to move now, and Emily comes back in, with the bulging bag over her shoulder.

  ‘Tamsin’s fine,’ she says to Andy, ‘she’s on her second currant bun alread
y.’ Emily steps to one side as the stretcher is manoeuvred through the narrow doorways and out towards the waiting ambulance. May’s eyes are tightly closed. At least she’s breathing. ‘But will you be fine, too?’ Emily asks, giving Andy an impulsive hug.

  Andy holds onto her for as long as he can get away with, breathing in the lemony scent of her hair and suddenly wishing he could stay here with his arms around Emily for ever.

  She pulls away from him and heads for the lane. ‘I’ll ring you as soon as I know something. Or even if I don’t. Try not to worry. May’s a tough cookie. I’m sure she’ll come through this and be as good as new by tomorrow.’

  Five minutes later Andy watches the ambulance pull away from the kerb and imagines Emily waiting in her little car at the top of the hill, ready to follow it, and prepared to be there at the hospital for as long as it takes. He wishes he could go with her. Waiting around in a hospital is a lonely business; he knows that from experience.

  The ambulance crew doesn’t put the flashing light or siren on this time. Is that a good or bad thing, he wonders. A few of the neighbours are out on the street, concern on their faces. They’re a bit of a nosy lot down here, but they mean well and they really do care. He goes towards the nearest group and gives them a brief update, leaving them to spread the word up the lane. It’s time to go and rescue Julia.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  The next few hours seem like the longest Emily’s ever known. Still comatose and looking very frail and ill, May is thoroughly examined and there are frequent checks on all her vital signs, but she doesn’t wake, not even for a moment.

  Emily sits by May’s bed when she isn’t in the way of the action and talks quietly to her, in between reading chapters of the thriller she brought with her. It’s a chilling story of love, death and regret. Emily wishes she’d chosen more carefully. One of Julia’s old romances from the bookshelf in her bedroom would have been much more comforting. A gentle D. E. Stevenson, taking her away to the Scottish border country, or maybe an Elizabeth Goudge with all the ins and outs of family life.

  ‘I don’t think you’d like this story, May,’ she says. ‘It’s scary, and most of the characters hate each other and themselves. I could do better than this. Maybe I will, one day. I’m hoping for a happy ending but there’s not much chance of that at the moment.’

  There’s no response from May. A nurse points Emily towards the drinks station at the end of the ward and she fortifies herself with some very sweet hot chocolate. All around her, in cubicles that line each side of the long ward, are patients in various states of distress and sickness. Anxious relatives pace the floor, look for doctors to interrogate, drinking weak tea and sending furtive text messages, hiding their phones as best they can so as not to disturb anyone or get told off by the doctors.

  ‘May, I’m just going to go outside for a minute and ring Andy,’ Emily says, when she’s got down to the nasty powdery bit at the bottom of her plastic cup.

  She slips out of a side door, shivering in the cool evening air. Andy answers on the first ring. ‘Hello? Emily? What’s happening?’

  ‘Nothing much to report, but I thought I’d just keep you up to date. They aren’t sure why May collapsed but they’re doing all sorts of tests. She hasn’t woken up yet but she’s peaceful. I’m sure she isn’t in any pain.’

  ‘Well, that’s something. I wish I was with you. It’s not fair for you to be doing this on your own.’

  ‘I’m fine. I’m going to have a Mars bar out of the machine next. I haven’t had one of those for years. Maybe if I wave it under May’s nose she’ll wake up. Does she like chocolate?’

  He laughs, and Emily’s heart warms at the sound. Andy’s got a lovely deep chuckle. He should try that laugh out more often, she thinks. ‘Is the Pope a Catholic?’ he says. ‘She loves anything with chocolate on it or in it. That might just do the trick.’

  ‘Right, I’m going back, if I can find someone to let me in. I’ll ring again in a little while.’

  ‘Thanks for this, Emily. You’ve come all this way to look after one old lady and you’ve ended up with another. I’m … I’m really glad you came home, though.’

  ‘Me, too. I just wish I’d brought a more cheerful book with me. Hey-ho, I’ll see if I can find an old copy of Hello! magazine. Hospitals always seem to have those. More soon.’

  Emily rings off and catches the eye of a nurse inside the emergency unit, who presses the buzzer to let her in. The machine in the waiting area’s out of Mars bars so Emily treats herself to a KitKat and gets a packet of chocolate buttons for May, just in case she wakes. May’s in the same state as she was when Emily left her but a different nurse is taking her blood pressure and smiles encouragingly.

  ‘Is this your grandma?’ she asks. ‘I’ve only just come on duty and I’m not up to speed yet.’

  ‘No, she’s … just a friend, really.’

  ‘Oh. Well, it’s good of you to take the time to come in with her. We get a lot of old people stuck in here on their own for hours with nobody to speak up for them and if they’re like this, we can’t get any answers at all.’

  ‘Is she any better, do you think?’ Emily realises this is probably a silly question when May’s spark out in bed with a face the colour of porridge, but she has to ask.

  ‘She’s holding her own at the moment. Her blood pressure’s steady and she’s breathing normally. The doctor’ll be along soon with the results of the first tests. Are you going to be here for a while?’

  ‘I’m staying.’ Emily can’t bear the thought of May waking up to find herself abandoned, and anyway, Andy needs her here to give him any news. It’s good to feel useful and appreciated. Her life in New York is busy and her job’s usually fascinating, but nobody depends on her or minds that much if she’s not around, it seems, least of all Max.

  The nurse bustles off and Emily sits down next to May again. ‘I’ve brought us some chocolate to keep us going,’ she tells her, unwrapping the KitKat and biting off half of the first finger. She wafts the rest of it under May’s nose. Did her nostrils twitch? A flake of chocolate drops onto the pristine white sheet and Emily brushes it off, glancing over her shoulder as the doctor comes in, a slim, dark-haired beauty with a serious expression.

  ‘Hey, I just came at the right time,’ the doctor says, her face breaking into a smile. ‘If I was fast asleep, that’s the thing that’d get me going. Are you a relative of Mrs Rosevere?’

  ‘No, I don’t think she’s got any of those left, nor many friends either,’ says Emily. ‘May’s a hundred and ten. She’s outlived most people. She’s my grandmother’s neighbour. I just happened to be around.’

  ‘OK. Well, the news is as good as you can expect for someone who’s unconscious. I …’

  The doctor breaks off talking as May raises a shaking hand a couple of inches off the bedcover. ‘Do I smell chocolate?’ she croaks.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  The next morning, May is propped up in her hospital bed sipping a weak cup of tea and feeling every one of her hundred and ten years. She’s been moved to a ward that seems to be where people come to die. Although the five other patients in the beds surrounding her are probably what the staff term ‘elderly’, they all look young enough to be her children, May estimates. Two of them have moaned and cried out all night and another keeps trying to break out of the ward.

  As May watches, the escapee, Albert, is led back to his bed.

  ‘But I need to meet Bill at the pub,’ he says to his nurse, tugging on her sleeve. ‘He’ll be mad as anything if I’m late. It’s my round.’

  ‘I’ll give Bill a ring,’ she says soothingly, ‘and maybe you can see him tomorrow.’

  In your dreams, mate, May thinks. She knows for a fact Albert has been here for a week already and the only place he’s heading for is back to the care home, if he’s lucky. Dorothy in the next bed, the most compos mentis of the other five, has given May a potted history of the ward’s inmates in the night when they were kept awake
by Albert singing ‘I Get a Kick Out of You’ at top volume. By four a.m. May was ready to do the kicking for him.

  ‘How are you feeling today, May?’ asks the rather fetching male nurse who’s been taking care of her since the early hours of this morning.

  ‘I’ll be better when I’m home,’ she says, then regrets her words when she remembers how kind he’s been, helping her to the toilet, bringing water and squash and generally making her feel less alone. ‘Not that I don’t like it here, you understand. Well, I don’t actually enjoy it, but you’re all doing a wonderful job,’ she adds hastily.

  He laughs. ‘I know what you’re saying. Let’s hope you get back where you belong as soon as possible.’

  ‘Today?’

  ‘I’m not sure. The doctors’ll be doing their rounds at about ten o’clock.’

  ‘I’d best have a wash then and get someone to do my hair. Don’t want them to decide I’m ill and feeble.’

  ‘No chance of them thinking that, May. Give me half an hour and I’ll come back and get you sorted. See you soon. Oh, I nearly forgot. Your bestie rang.’

  ‘What did you say? My beastie?’ May wonders if the world has gone mad. Fossil’s a bright cat, but to be able to use the phone …

  ‘No, bestie! Best buddy? Said her name was Julia, and she’s missing you. Wanted me to give you her love and to see how you were doing.’

  May ponders on this while she waits to be released. Fancy Julia bothering to check up on her and even more strange, to send her love. They haven’t been on those sort of terms, have they? May finds herself almost moved to tears. Their friendship must have slid forward into some new stage while she wasn’t looking. It’s rather wonderful to think she’s been missed.

  When the doctors appear on the dot of ten o’clock, May’s looking as good as she possibly can on three hours’ sleep and with a livid bruise down one side of her face.

  ‘Mrs Rosevere, isn’t it?’ the senior one says, picking up the clipboard that holds May’s notes. He’s got a long, solemn face and sideburns that wouldn’t look out of place at a seventies revival night.