Abbie's Gift (13 page)

Rose was swathed in thick clothes to keep the cold out, with a woollen hat pulled down over her ears and a scarf half-covering her face. This alarmed Abbie, as this was unusual; her mum never just turned up, especially not at this time of the day. She glanced at her watch under her glove; it was 11.30am, and her pace quickened towards the house.

“Mum” she called, “how long have you been there? Is everything alright?”

As Abbie approached her mother, she could see anxiety and worry in her eyes.

“Mum, what is it?”

Rose looked at her daughter.

“I’m concerned for you; you haven’t returned my calls for days, that’s just not like you”.

Abbie stood opposite her mother realising this was true: her mum’s calls had gone unanswered, along with all the others, and she immediately felt very guilty and remorseful.

“Mum I’m sorry, I just forgot, you know how it is”.

“No Abbie, I’m not sure I do know how it is, and I’m worried about you, you’re not yourself, and it’s not just me who thinks that either”.

Getting her front door key into the lock, Abbie told her mum to come in, worrying how she was going to get out of this difficult corner she’d created for herself.

Once inside, Rose immediately saw that whilst not untidy, the house was not in the ordered state in which her daughter normally kept it: the pile of several days’ unopened post on the table; dishes on the drainer not put away; some clothes on a chair. Rose knew this was not like Abbie to neglect even these small things, and she worried that it was something more than grief.

“Tea, mum?” Abbie asked as she took of her gloves and put on the kettle. Rose nodded. 

Abbie then took off her hat and fleece top and put them in the washer, and Rose noticed how thin she was. She hadn’t really seen Abbie in tight fitting clothes, but her running trousers hugged her hips and Rose thought she looked too gaunt and too thin.

“I’m sorry, I should have called you”, Abbie began, “I just needed some space”.

“You don’t look well Abbie, you really don’t, and I’m not convinced that the space you want is doing you any good”.

Abbie didn’t know how to answer this, so she turned away and busied herself with the tea, aware of her hot skin perspiring under her clothes.

“Look, you have some tea while I shower, then we can talk. I’ll just be a few minutes”. Rose did not respond.

This, Abbie knew, would give her some thinking time; time to produce some plausible answers.

Abbie caught a brief look at herself in the mirror as she stepped into the shower; the figure she saw was lean and taut, firm and athletic. She could not deny that her body had changed significantly.

She also knew that she could not tell anyone, not even her mum, what she had recently experienced.  Who else could believe that those things were real and sane? She had doubted it herself for a while, and she certainly wasn’t about to try and explain it to her mum, of all people, who’d already told her how worried she was.

When she returned to the kitchen, Rose’s expression was unaltered.

“So, tell me then, how are you really?”

Abbie shrugged.

“I’m not sure what you expect me to say, I’m getting by.  Some days are better than others: some days I can hardly handle doing anything, others I feel I can take on the world again, it changes quickly”.

“You have lost weight, are you eating properly?”

‘Yes, I’m aware of that, I think it’s partly grief, the reduced appetite. I’m eating little and often enough, and when I’m hungry, but I’m exercising a lot too which helps me, and yes I’m burning more calories. But mum, I really feel fine physically”.

“You have seemed withdrawn lately, which worries me.  What’s going on in your head and heart?  And it’s not only me who’s concerned, by the way.”

“What do you mean?”

“Kate.  She feels you’re pushing her away.  She says that the last time she saw you, it was as though you didn’t want her around.  She thinks you’re withdrawn as well.”

“I’m not trying to push anyone away, not you, not her, but yes I do I feel that I need to be alone, and right now that’s a lot of the time. I’m sorry to have not returned your calls, I meant too, and then I guess I forgot, I didn’t mean to worry you”.

Rose’s eyes met her daughter’s, and Abbie suddenly felt overwhelmed by an emotional torrent: for the first time in weeks she found she was unable to contain her emotions, and tears began to streak down her face as she sobbed tears of despair and utter confusion.

“I’m so sorry mum!”  Abbie stood and went over to hug her mother and soon they were both in tears together.

“My love, tell me what’s wrong, whatever it is you can tell me, you know that”.

Through sobs Abbie shook her head.

“I’m just confused. I want to be with Peter, I miss him so much, it’s as though nothing else matters at all anymore”.

Rose was alarmed by this; she believed Abbie’s grief was now possibly slipping into depression. She recognised the signs that began to point to this: the withdrawal and isolation; the loss of interest in everything; her standards of her pride in her house slipping away; the almost obsessive attitude to exercising and weight loss.  All in all, Rose felt that she had genuine reason to be concerned.

“When was the last time you had a good cry?” said Rose.

“I don’t anymore, not until now” replied Abbie

“Well I’m giving you permission to” Rose said as she hugged her daughter tighter.  “You need to let all your emotions out, to grieve properly”.

Rose knew that the depth of emotional pain in Abbie’s tears was beyond just grief, as tragic as Peter’s loss was. She knew the depth of her pain was far deeper then she was admitting.

After the emotional outpouring had dried up Abbie felt embarrassed, and at the same time in the back of her mind, she had thoughts of now emotionally betraying Peter. She rejected this idea and tried not to let it get to her, but it was there, nagging away at the edge of her conscious thoughts.

Betrayal.  And after all they had recently gone through together to be reunited. Could she hold her life together to make everything all right?

“When are you meant to be going back to work?” Rose asked.

“Soon, in a few days, but to be honest these last few days I haven’t thought about it, haven’t been able to”.

“I’m not sure you’re well enough, really I don’t think you are”.

“Maybe you’re right, I don’t know, I feel as though I don’t know anything anymore”.

“It’s OK, you’ve been through such a lot, and you went from being distraught to very strong in a short space of time. You now seem to have run out of that mental and emotional energy, and you need time to recuperate and recharge your batteries. Don’t bite my head off, but I think you need to go to the doctor, and I’ll come with you if you want.”

I don’t know Mum, it’s just fuss about nothing, I’ve just got to get on with my life”.

“Maybe, but by your own admission, you just told me that you can’t, can you?”

“No”, said Abbie weakly.

“Then it’s settled, we’re going”.

Rose felt that she had climbed a mountain: at last her daughter seemed to be beginning to realise that she needed some help.

Abbie on the other hand felt unsure and anxious: what did all this mean? Everything about her journeys to find Peter and being with him had all seemed, no she
knew
, it had been real, and not her imagination. She had seen him, touched him, loved him.

Or was she now so emotionally unstable that she couldn’t tell fact from fantasy? She didn’t think so, and there was another part of her mind telling her to get a grip, that she needed to be able to manage her physical life and her astral travel, control it all, for Peter’s sake.

But Abbie felt mentally and emotionally exhausted and at a loss; she could not pretend anymore - all this was beyond her understanding and ability to cope.

Rose offered to either stay with Abbie or have her stay at her house, but Abbie couldn’t agree to this; she needed space to work things through, and having someone close she felt would agitate her so decided against it.

Kate visited later that evening, and Abbie apologised for being difficult and distant. She was reassured by Kate when she said that it didn’t matter at all.

                            …………………………………………………………….

Abbie was aware that her preoccupation with Peter had now taken over and controlled her life. Abbie also knew that, although it had only gone on for a matter of days, it somehow seemed to have harmed her, worn her out completely and, in some way, she felt easier now that her slightly peculiar behaviour had not gone unnoticed.

The next day, Abbie and her mum sat in the medical centre, waiting for the appointment with Dr Black. Abbie noticed that Gill, the receptionist, still insisted on wearing that hideous scarf and she was equally off- hand with everyone who approached her. However, Abbie’s mum had spoken to another, seemingly kinder receptionist, who had worked some minor booking miracle and managed to get Abbie an appointment at short notice.  Abbie didn’t know whether to be thankful or irritated.

Abbie felt very uneasy, unsure what to say or do.  She was restless and wanted fresh air; the heat in the waiting room hung heavy in the air, and she was beginning to get uncomfortable so took her coat off.  Her throat felt dry, and she was aware of her heartbeat pounding in her chest.

It was a busy place, and the waiting area was full of people.  Somewhere nearby, the cry of a young child filled the room. Rose sat quietly and read an out-of -date magazine.

Abbie was aware becoming more and more on edge as the clock drew nearer the time of the appointment.  What should she say? What can or should she admit to?

“God” she thought, “get me out of here!”

Suddenly Abbie felt that all too familiar sense of dizziness creep up on her again; the world as she saw it lurched left and right, and then everything just disappeared.

Abbie gradually became aware of lots of voices around her, and when she opened her eyes there was a small sea of faces looking down at her, including her mum’s, and she realised she was lying on the waiting room floor.

“It’s all right,” said Rose, “you fainted, that’s all, and slipped off the chair”

“Oh, sorry, can I get up please?” Abbie was helped up by one of the practice nurses who gave her a cup of water; when she tasted it, the coldness seemed intense and so cold it almost took her breath away. She sipped it slowly, but now her head hurt, and she just wanted to sleep.

“Did you have any breakfast?” asked the nurse.

“No not today” said Abbie.

“That most likely caused this then, along with the heat, it’s too intense in here isn’t it?”

Abbie was not in the mood for any conversation, she just smiled and nodded.

Rose took hold of her hand.  “We’re going in next, it’ll be alright, they let the next person after us go in to see Dr Black first”.

Abbie didn’t speak. She felt odd.

Over the surgery intercom, the announcement came for ‘the next patient for Dr Black to room 7’. Abbie didn’t respond until Rose said, “come on love that’s us” and stood up, grasping Abbie’s hand as she did so.

As Abbie walked across the waiting room between the rows of chairs, just outside the window she noticed the trees and shrubs slowly being blown bare by the winter wind. Something caught her eye and she turned to look, stopping dead in her tracks: yet again, just for a moment, she had glimpsed some strange, flesh-coloured shape, but then it was gone again.

In that moment it dawned on her
,
that recently she could recall several episodes of thinking that she had seen or felt something; when she’d been running on the track, she’d had an awareness of something moving, and the other night in the house she had felt as though she was being pressed into the chair, being pushed down. She had sensed something moving away from her then, but had seen nothing.  And then shortly afterwards by the window in the darkness, she had been sure something was watching her, something she then realised had felt very similar to the ‘thing’ - another presence? Astral being? -  that had passed by when she’d been with Peter recently.

Abbie somehow knew suddenly that these things, whatever they were, had some malevolent intentions towards her, and it sent a shiver through her body, her flesh at once cold with goose bumps.

“Come on love, let’s get in to see the doctor” said Rose.

As Abbie sat in the doctor’s surgery, she had a feeling of total detachment from the reality of the present. What’s going on? She wondered.

“Hello Abbie” began Dr Black, “are you feeling OK after fainting just now?”