Time to Let Go (7 page)

“Thanks. I feel bad enough as it is. I am responsible for my mother wearing those high heels. She would never have fallen other
wise. My father is going to be mad when he hears about it. My mother suffers from Alzheimers, by the way,” Hanna added. She took her mother’s hand and only when she was quite certain that Biddy was fast asleep did she decide to carry on talking to Karim.

It was
odd, she worked with a different crew on every single trip, which meant she got to know a set of approximately forty people to work with every month. For the duration of each trip these people became her family but then she would not meet them again for months and months. Every week new people came into her life and others gradually fell off her radar. She had perfected making small talk over the years of flying, but for some reason she found it difficult to speak to this handsome, intense man; yet she found herself uncharacteristically shy.

“Would you say that most calls for an ambulance are justified?”
she finally managed.

“Yes, the vast and overwhelming majority is. There will always be prank calls but rarely do we get called out for someone who overestimates their need for help. I say it is always better to be safe than sorry,” Karim replied. “Your mother could not have walked from there. You needed us. I think it is really sweet of you that you take your mother out into town. I am sure your father sees the kindness behind this. Family is everything.”

“Thank you, yes, we should all look out for our families,” Hanna admitted. “But people have to earn a living and lead their own lives. I wouldn’t want to judge anyone who can’t invest the time.”

He kept quiet after that.

“Do you think my mother will have to stay in hospital?” she eventually tried to reopen the conversation.

“We will see, but I guess if you are at home to look after her the hospital would try to keep the bed free for s
omeone in more desperate need. It all depends on the X-rays.”

Hanna nodded and then started scratching the sore point on her leg again.

“We are nearly at the hospital,” Karim suddenly said. “I need you to stay out of the way while we get your mother out and then follow us through the A&E doors. Reception is going to give you a form to fill in and then you will just have to wait your turn. It was nice talking to you. All the best!” Karim said as they pulled in to the hospital entrance.

Biddy did not even wake up as the stretcher was lifted out of the vehicle and was asleep all the way through the hospital corridors until she was being lifted off the stretcher and onto a narro
w hospital bed in a cubicle ready for examination, whenever that would be.

“Are you in pain, Biddy?” Hanna asked.

“No,” Biddy replied, looking puzzled. “What are we doing here?”

“We are at the hospital to have your knee looked at. You fell, do you remember that?” Hanna asked.

“Oh yes. But I need only a little bandage. We don’t need a doctor,” Biddy insisted.

“Now that we are here we might as well stay.”

At this point a young student nurse came in with several magazines.

“The chap from the ambulance asked me to get these for you. He said you’d
have a hell of a wait ahead of you. He paid for it, so enjoy. His name was Karim if you want to thank him for it later.”

“Thank you!” said Hanna enthusiastically and took the magazines. She pulled an empty wheelchair next to her mother and started to look at the pictures. Biddy did not recognise any of the people but she seemed to enjoy Hanna’s commentary on the pictures.

It took over an hour before they were attended to. The doctor in question appeared to be an arrogant and unapproachable man who didn’t seem happy to be there. He gently touched the skin and bones around the area, tested her range of movements and then asked Biddy if she could put any weight on the leg at all. Much to everyone’s surprise, the patient could now easily stand on her two feet and walk, with just a small limp.

“I am so sorry,
” Hanna apologised. “Just an hour ago she could not even stand up. I can’t believe she can do it now. I am so sorry for wasting your time.”

“Don’t worry,
” reassured the doctor with sudden surprising kindness. “Bruises and bone injuries in the elderly are very dangerous. You could not have known.”

He turned to Biddy. “Do you need anything for the pain?”

“No.”

“Well then, you are free to go.”

“Thank you. We’ll need to order a taxi and then we are out of your way.”

“Fine
. Get one of the nurses to arrange that for you. Have a good day,” he said and was off to the next patient.

The taxi ride back into town was much shorter than Hanna would have imagined. In her mind the drive in the ambulance to the hospital had taken forever,
whereas the return journey seemed to take only a few minutes. Just before the taxi reached the car park Hanna remembered that she didn’t have enough cash on her to pay for the ride and she had to ask the driver to find her a cash point. Her debit card still dispensed money but this reminded her again that she really did need to check her finances urgently. Suddenly she remembered Billy and how he still had her car keys.

Billy was on his lunch break when she got to the supermarket but he had left the car keys with the manager for Hanna to collect. What a gem that boy was. She had to make sure to return and thank him properly.

At long last the taxi returned to the car park and the driver even got out and helped Biddy into the convertible. Hanna tipped him generously then paid the extortionate parking fee and got into her own car.

As she pulled onto the drive way at her parents’ house she saw Walter still in his sports gear, cleaning the bicycle outside the garage.

“Did you have a good ride?” she asked him.

“Yes, as a matter of fact I did. I was waiting for you to see if you are up for a late lunch?” he said with a wink.

“Dad, please don’t get mad at me but mother fell on the tarmac,” Hanna told her father sheepishly.

“What? Is she all right?” Walter asked, concerned.

“Yes, she is fine. We have been to the hospital for an X-ray. She didn’t break anything but it is my fault. I let her walk in high heels. Please don’t be angry with me.”

“I am not angry P
umpkin,” Walter said with barely concealed restraint. “But let that be a lesson to you. Your mother is fragile and needs careful supervision. So tell me, what happened?”

Hanna briefly explained to him the events of the morning. It was obvious he wanted to scold her but to his own surprise he managed to let it go.

It took a little effort to wake up his wife and to get her out of the car. Biddy’s leg was much better even than it had been at the hospital and much to Hanna’s relief it now seemed unlikely that she would have to use a walking stick at all.

Biddy was in a great mood as she was escorted up the path to the front door by both her husband and her daughter.

“Be careful with her elbow,” Hanna said to Walter. “She has a little bruise there, too.”

Walter rolled his eyes but refrained from a comment.

“This is nice,” she turned to Hanna and said: “Can you stay?”

“You are in luck,
” Hanna replied. “I can and I will.”

“Good. I like you.”

Once they were all in the house Biddy got hold of the newspaper and started to read some articles to the other two. Walter unpacked the shopping and put everything away.

“It’s late and I
am starving. I am only going to make some of the ready meals now. I’ll use the fresh food when I cook dinner tomorrow. Are you happy with that?” she asked her father.

“I guess that will be fine,” he said magnanimously.

At lunch Biddy greedily dug in and between bites kept smiling happily at her two companions. Walter ruled that it was not too late for an afternoon nap, especially after all the excitement, and he accompanied his wife to the living room. After she had nodded off quickly and peacefully, Walter tiptoed out of ear shot then marched with determination to the kitchen.

“Now, tell me what is going on with you and your job,” he demanded to know.

“Dad, there is nothing going on. Can’t I take a little time out to re-charge my batteries? Stop grilling me. I’ve had an exhausting day.”

“I see!” he said and paced up and down the kit
chen in agitated contemplation.

“On a different matter, Dad, do you have
Internet in the house?”

“Yes, the computer in the study has
Internet. Your brother wrote down all the passwords and codes on a piece of paper. If I can find it you can knock yourself out. It is even broad speed or whatever you call it. It all came free with the new telephone or something.”

“Fantastic. Could you please try and find that piece of paper now? I need to check my bank account.”

“You will let us know if you need money, won’t you?” Walter said instantly. “We can always help you out if needs be.”

“Thanks Dad
but I am fine. I got a huge lump sum as bonus payment last month and that should be completely untouched in a savings account.”

“Well, ‘should be untouched
’ is not a statement coming from someone in control of their finances,” Walter said indignantly.

“Never mind,” Hanna sighed.

“I do mind, Pumpkin. You can lead the life you want and make whatever choices you like but you always need to stand on solid ground financially. Everything else then falls into place. Has all my time trying to teach you amounted to nothing?”

“My finances are fine, Dad, even if I don’t always know the exact balance and things like that. I don’t think you appreciate just how difficult it is to live a normal life in the job that I do. I even make lists before I go on a trip so I will rememb
er what I need to do when I get back, but I often can’t find the lists or can’t make sense of them anymore. Let alone find the energy because of the jet lag and night flights to remember to pay the bills. It is so easy to forget things, regardless of the gravity of the consequences.”

“Most of your colleagues seem to manage to keep on top of it. I have never read that cabin crew are notoriously known for late payments and missing appointments.”

“Be that as it may, you can rest assured that I am financially sound,” Hanna insisted.

“I am only trying to help you my
Pumpkin,” Walter said sharply.

“I know but y
ou would help me more by getting that piece of paper.”

Walter sighed and went upstairs to his study to search through his papers.

He switched on the computer and while it booted up he went to his large steel drawer unit and found the piece of paper on the first attempt under ‘I’ for Internet. It certainly paid off to invest some time in organising oneself, he thought smugly. He looked at the many folders of his family chronicle. At some point he would have to put all of this information on a computer file. He needed to make sure his children understood his filing system; otherwise they would never be able to make sense of it.

He wondered if Biddy’s mind was l
ike this collection of papers: a huge pile of memories that were useless without the right index? Or was the index right but the memories had all shifted and changed location? What a shame to see all her memories and experiences lost, all the accumulated life that was now gone from her mind and her life. But he couldn’t allow himself to get all worked up about it yet again and dwell on something that he couldn’t change.

He heard Hanna come up the stairs and knock on the door.

“Can I come in?” she said, but she had already entered the room. “You look unhappy. Is something the matter?”

“No, I am fine. I was just th
inking about memories. You know how little importance I used to give to them; so much that I did not even take many photographs. Now I wish I had paid more attention. I can see how vital they are for a person to be complete. I saw so many movies about amnesia, they all left me cold. Now I appreciate the tragedy.”

“You are not going to get memories back whether you grieve for them or not. Let’s just be happy that mother is beyond the point where she cares. R
emember that awkward phase she went through when she got all upset about the same thing constantly and became aggressive. She seems pretty content now, with or without the memories.”

“O
h, her anger period! That was an awful time. I think the doctors are giving her anti-depressives now and that is why she feels better; they are just masking everything.”

“Does it make any difference? Whether it is the pills or the progress of the disease, the main point is that we are lucky she is her cheerful old self. Although she has become a little child
, at least she is happy,” Hanna pointed out.

“Is she really happy, or is it just because of the drugs?” Walter asked provocatively. He felt irritated.

“How could it be any different? The effect is the same.”

“Oh I don’t know
Pumpkin. We don’t know what it feels like underneath the drugged surface. Look at all the ‘happy’ junkies, they do nothing constructive. I mean, good on them for being high and happy, as they are, but their lives just fall apart. They forget to eat, to wash and brush their teeth and they contribute nothing to society. We don’t want that for Biddy do we?”

“Well, her life is already falling apart, Dad. You can make sure she gets washed but for the rest of it: I think it is great if her last years are good ones, by any means reasonable.”

“I know Pumpkin, I know. And you are doing a great job with this. Now here is the piece of paper, I am sure you understand it much better than I do. The computer won’t be ready for you to work with for another half hour or so. It takes forever to get started. You might as well make yourself a cup of tea before you come back up here.”

“Thanks, Dad. What are you going to do until mother wakes up?”

“I will continue with my family chronicle. I have started to write everything down that I can remember, before I lose my marbles as well. I was just imagining you kids throwing it all away because it is on paper. You must promise me to look carefully through my stuff after I have gone. Don’t dump it all without having a look, please,” he begged.

“I promise we will have a good snoop around.”

When Hanna finally got to check her finances she was relieved to confirm that her money matters were all in good order but she was getting tired of the continued drama of it all.

She had once carried a cheque for a parking ticket in her handbag for weeks without ever sending it off and had a rather indignant phone conversation with the council when she received her second reminder with a late payment fee. Hanna complained outspokenly about the audacity of the council to claim her cheque had never arrived. When she found the cheque weeks later she was mortified and called the council to apologise to the civil servants for her behaviour.

Another time she failed to pay the road tax in time because she only remembered the day before it was due and she could not find the insurance or the M.O.T. Certificate. The day she was meant to do all of this her plane had got stuck in Delhi because of ground fog. When she got back to London days later than scheduled it was a close friend’s birthday party in Manchester. She had to drive there straight from the airport and only when she drove back south did the tax matter cross her mind again, by which time she had no more chance to meet the deadline and incurred the penalty.

Today she found emails from almost everyone in her addre
ss book: news had travelled quickly. She was tempted to send a short impersonal reply to all of them to reassure everyone that she was fine but that would be a lie. She was expecting a big emotional breakdown at some point and probably owed many of her friends a more detailed and honest explanation about what was going on in her life but she just couldn’t do it now: she had come here to forget.

There were sev
eral letters from the airline: her manager urged her to get in touch immediately; a woman from human resources, whom she had never heard of, sent her a document with company policies that should be ‘informative and relevant’; the trade union had also sent several mails, offering her any support that she needed and giving her phone numbers of union reps, a 24 hour help line and of a solicitor who was on their pay roll.

T
he only one she replied to was that from her brother, Henrik, which was a generic update he sent out once in a while to tell her and lots of other people about his life. She informed him briefly that she had taken temporary residence back home to spend time with their mother. He was unlikely to find anything unusual with her decision. He lived in his own little world and was not very perceptive when it came to other people.

She compli
mented him about the way he had installed the Internet at their parents’ house which - as he could see - she found very easy to use and invited him to come and meet her at the family home, if he had an opening in his busy schedule.

She knew it was unlikely he
would turn up. Since he had had a new girlfriend, he was hard to get hold of and unwilling to do anything that did not revolve around her schedule and interests.

As she
closed down the computer she heard the telephone ring downstairs. Her father must have been standing right next to it because he seemed to be answering it immediately. She walked down the stairs and heard him speaking quietly, explaining to the caller that he had to do this because of an ill person in the house being asleep. He was listening for some time to the reply from the other end. At first he looked confused and bewildered, then knowingly amused and eventually he turned to Hanna and said:

“It is for you. It is a
...follow up...call from the paramedic. He wants to speak to you.”

With a broad grin he handed her the receiver and gestured for her to take the cordless phone upstairs away from her sleeping mother.

Hanna took the call upstairs.

“To what do I owe the honour of your call?” Hanna asked him when she was out of earshot.

“I just wanted to see if you were free at all while you are staying with your parents. Maybe I could take you out for dinner tonight or tomorrow?”

“Today is a bit short notice,” Hanna said, “but tomorrow would be fine. Thank you for the magazines, by the way. They were well received.”

“I thought you would not leave your mother alone in the hospital.”

“Yes, I wouldn’t have,” Hanna admitted. “So thank you very much.”

“I better let you get on, then. Shall we say 7pm at the Indian on Queen’s Square?”

“Perfect.”

When Hanna came back down the stairs shortly after, Walter looked up from his notes with raised eyebrows.