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my expression grave as he garbles down the phone.

‘You need to get home, Sarah. It’s your Mum. She’s…’ Derek is breathing rapidly as though he’s just climbed a steep hill. ‘Just get home. It’s an emergency.’ He hangs up.

An ambulance is in the street outside Mum’s house and I brace myself for the difficulty of feigning grief for a woman I despise. Despite being close to the hospital the emergency services must have taken a while to get here because I’ve driven around for twenty odd minutes to make it look like I’ve come from Northampton. Not that Derek is likely to notice but best to take precautions.

‘Sarah. You made it.’ Derek’s face is pale and drawn in the streetlight.

‘What’s happened? Is she ill?’ I ask innocently.

He opens his mouth to reply but stays silent as a paramedic walks carefully out of the front door carrying a stretcher.

‘Mum?’ I cry, with a break in my voice. God, I’m good at this. I should be in Hollywood. I rush forward and stop in fake shock as I see the sheet is pulled up over her face. ‘Oh, God. She isn’t…’ I swallow as though I can’t face even the idea that she might be dead.

Derek pulls gently on my arm to move me out of the way. ‘She was sick, Sarah.’

‘No, she wasn’t. She probably has a dodgy liver but she wasn’t sick when I left. What happened?’ I direct my question to the ambulance crew.

The paramedics slow down to look at me.

‘I’m afraid it appears she choked on her own vomit,’ the man in green says. ‘Sadly, this isn’t the first time I’ve seen this when people are… Well.’

He doesn’t want to say the word drunk. ‘I’m sorry,’ he adds. They move forward again and wheel her onto the tail-lift of the vehicle. ‘Would you like to ride in the ambulance? As a close relative we need you to come to the hospital to provide essential information.’

‘I’ll follow in my car,’ I say, unable to bear being in close proximity with her. I turn to Derek. ‘I’m sorry you had to find her like this. I’ll call you tomorrow.’

He lets out a long breath, clearly relieved that I haven’t asked him to accompany me. I get in my car and as soon as I turn the corner I put the radio on and sing.

Chapter 49

The Following September | Jenna

For once I might beat Mum at Scrabble but I’m not sure if I’ll like the sense of victory. I’ve started the game with a seven-letter word that’s earned me a fifty point bonus. I’ve done this before and Mum has still thrashed me, but is she up to it today?

She shuffles her letters around listlessly then leans back against the sofa. ‘Can we finish this game later, love? I can’t concentrate. I might have more chance of winning if I can have a little nap first.’

‘Of course,’ I say. ‘I’ll change your bed covers while you lie on the sofa.’ I arrange the velvet cushions for her and she looks so thin and fragile that I drape a cashmere blanket over her legs. I resist the urge to sprinkle her face in butterfly kisses by turning to the window to close the curtains.

I’ve got my head in the airing cupboard looking for clean bedding when Grace emerges from the bathroom, clutching a cleaning spray.

‘How’s Fiona?’ she asks. ‘Has she had her nutrition drink this morning?’

‘Yes, but she’s still got no energy. She’s sleeping on the sofa.’

Grace nods and, because she doesn’t move, I sense she wants to say more. ‘What is it?’ I ask.

‘Nothing.’

‘We need all the help we can get, Grace, so if you’ve any ideas…’

‘I don’t want to interfere in your family matters but… Well, I’ve been looking at that Doulah course online that you mentioned. It really appeals to me and I think it’s the sort of thing I might like to do as a career so I’ve dipped into my savings to pay for it. I’ve already signed up actually. It involves 120 hours of study in total but I’ll cover it in modules so I can go at my own pace. I’ll be learning about end-of-life planning, loss, grief and more. Obviously, it’s not going to make me an instant expert but I’ll be glad to do what I can to help Fiona, and if there’s anything I can do to take some of the pressure off you, please ask.’

‘Thanks, Grace. You’ll make a wonderful Doulah.’

‘I want to do something worthwhile with my life but I’ve never known what that is before. What about you, Jenna? Have you thought about the future?’

‘I can’t,’ I whisper. I pull a duvet set and sheets from the cupboard and walk away along the landing. It’s much too painful to think about a future without Mum.

But I’m grateful that Grace is willing to help further, and the more she does the less I’ll need Lucy to pitch in. I really don’t know where I stand with Lucy right now.

I’m bundling washing into the machine when I hear the back door open and close. Lucy walks into the kitchen and stops abruptly when she sees me.

‘Not at work?’ she asks airily, dumping her heavy designer handbag onto the table and pulling items from a hessian bag, including a bunch of bright cellophane-wrapped sunflowers.

‘Clearly not.’

Either she’s pretending not to know I’ve been given the sack or she wasn’t the person making the call. Would Lucy really want to hurt me or are the situation and my exhaustion messing with my head? I don’t know. Right now, I’d like to curl up in bed and have a short sleep rather than consider whether my sister wanted me to lose my job.

‘Is Mum awake I’ve bought her a few goodies to tempt her appetite,’ Lucy says.

I look at the mushroom pâté, pains au chocolat and fruit trifle. Three of Mum’s favourites – or at least they used to be. ‘It’s kind

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