Fault Lines: Episode 33

She wondered what Louise had thought of them. Did she think she’d been a success as a mother?

Surtsey touched Iona’s face. She could still smell the vodka on her breath, her hair greasy at the roots. Last night’s make-up was smudged in the corners of her eyes. Surtsey pushed the door open. The air was colder in here, two lamps casting delicate light on to the ceiling. Louise was neatly tucked into a bed in the middle of the room, three cheaply upholstered chairs alongside.

It was obvious straight away she was gone. The skin of her face was waxy and pale, a grey tinge to the lips. Surtsey struggled to swallow.

With just her head and arms showing, Louise looked like she was being consumed by the bed, sucked down into a soft underworld of sheets and pillows.

There was nothing after this, no heaven or hell, no afterlife, just silence. Louise had believed that with all her heart and Surtsey did too.

Religion was false comfort in the face of oblivion, a respite against our own insignificance. But being free from that was comforting in its own way. If you weren’t waiting for the afterlife you could concentrate on living.

Did her mum do that? Do any of us? It’s handy for eulogies, a beautiful lie, but really we all just stumble along from one day to the next without dying or harming others, without too much embarrassment or awkwardness, without confronting anything too shocking. Something from a play at school came to her. “I can’t go on, I’ll go on.”

Silence

Her mum didn’t look happy or sad or relieved or anything. Just dead. Gone. Iona touched her mum’s hand and jerked away.

“Christ, she’s cold.”

“What did you expect?”

“It’s just freaky, that’s all.”

Surtsey reached out and placed the back of her fingers against her mum’s hand. She moved her hand to Louise’s cheek.

They stood in silence.

Goosebumps rose on Surtsey’s arms from the air con. Of course, keeping the body cool to reduce decomposition. So matter of fact, the logistics of death.

“Do you want to say anything?” Surtsey said eventually.

“Like what?”

Surtsey shrugged. She had no clue how to do this. “I don’t know.”

She turned to the body, took the cold hand in hers, gripped it. She felt her sister staring at her as she took a deep breath and spoke.

“What do we do now, Mum?” She slackened her grip, touched the bedsheets then spoke again, this time under her breath. “What do we do now?”

They scuffed over the floor tiles, Iona trailing a finger along the wall. Surtsey wanted this to mean something, to connect with her sister.

But we can’t ever know someone else’s mind, we can’t even guess what others are thinking. We certainly can’t make them feel what we want them to.

She wondered what Louise had thought of them. Did she think she’d been a success as a mother?

Effie was out of her seat before they reached reception, her head tilted in sympathy.

“You girls OK?” Iona shook her head, making it clear the question was meaningless.

“Fine, thanks,” Surtsey said.

“Nurse Steel says she’s sorry she couldn’t be here,” Effie said. Surtsey had to think hard who that was. The woman on the phone.

“She’ll be in touch about all the paperwork,” Effie said. “Paperwork?” Iona said, as if Effie had mentioned aliens.

“Just a few forms, nothing to worry about.” “Thanks for everything, Effie,” Surtsey said.

Awkward

Effie smiled and went back behind the reception desk, then held up a rucksack. It was Louise’s, a sturdy hill-walking thing she used for fieldwork for years.

They’d used it to bring Louise’s belongings when she first came here. So here it was again, now they were leaving.

“All her stuff’s in there,” Effie said. She lowered her voice. “I made sure they washed the clothes she was in.”

Iona stared at her. “Why?”

Effie looked awkward. “It’s just better.”

The body soiled itself, Surtsey realised, once the heart gave up.

“Thanks.”

She lifted the rucksack on to her shoulder, enjoyed the weight of it on her back, and headed for the door with Iona.

“You girls take care,” Effie said as the door closed behind them.

“Fancy a drink?” Iona said.

Surtsey sat on the wall outside the Espy staring at the sea. The rowing club were out again, half a dozen of them dipping their oars in unison, heading east towards Fisherrow in Musselburgh.

She pictured the water spraying on their hunched over backs, the tang of the air in their nostrils. She wanted to be out there, not anchored to the earth. Further along the beach a couple of swimmers in wetsuits were splashing out to the marker buoys. Surtsey tried to imagine the shock of the cold water on her skin, the ache in her limbs.

Iona appeared beside her waving a bottle of tequila. “Come on.”

She jumped down on to the sand and strode towards the water.

“Did you just lift that from the pub?” Surtsey said, wiping the sand from her bum and following. “They won’t miss it.”

“They will.”

Iona broke the seal on the bottle. “So what?” They walked alongside the old groyne, barnacles on the wrinkled wood, pools of water where the support struts disappeared into the sand. Surtsey saw a crab scuttling into the shadows, and wondered what other life lurked down there.

The tide was halfway in, the end of the groyne underwater. They stopped at the edge of the dry sand and plonked themselves down.

Struggling

Iona had already taken a couple of swigs from the bottle. She wiped the top on her sleeve and passed it to Surtsey who drank, screwed her eyes shut as the burn spread from her chest like she’d been struck by lightning.

“Christ,” she said. “That’s the good stuff. They’re definitely going to miss that.”

She passed it back.

Out at sea the rowers were struggling into a headwind while the swimmers had rounded the buoy and were heading west to the next marker. “Why did you get the call?” Iona said. “What?”

“Why did the hospice phone you?”

“I’m the emergency contact.”

“Who decided that?”

“Mum.”

“That sounds about right.”

“What does that mean?”

“You know.” Iona gulped tequila like water. “Come on, don’t do this now.”

Iona passed the bottle. “Don’t do what?” Surtsey took it and drank. “Please.”

More tomorrow.