Read Online Where Memories Lie by Deborah Crombie - Free Book Online Page B

her.
    The children, the girl just older than Toby and the boy just younger, began to tussle over the lorry, their voices rising towards full-blown conflict. “Cyn’s in with Mum?” Gemma asked, resisting the impulse to correct them.
    “And your dad.”
    “Oh, lord,” she breathed. “Look, I’ll see you.”
    “Good luck,” Gerry called after her, and she couldn’t be sure whether his tone was mocking or sympathetic.
    She followed the rabbit warren of tunnels that led to the King George V ward with a sinking heart and an incipient sense of panic. The hospital was undergoing renovation, the tunnels makeshift, grim affairs connecting disparate wings, and as one turn led to another, her mouth went dry.
    God, she hated hospitals in the best of circumstances, and she’d never thought to find herself visiting a loved one in this old pile. It was, Duncan had informed her, the oldest hospital in London, and when she reached the wing itself she could well believe it. It had been modernized many times over the centuries, of course, but there was an air of age and illness that no amount of refurbishment could quite erase.
    Checking the directions to her mother’s ward, she took the stairs, not trusting her sudden attack of claustrophobia to the lift. A sisterbuzzed her into the ward, where she found her father and sister sitting sentinel on either side of her mother’s bed. Her mother lay propped up against the pillows, her hair arranged in tight curls and her lips and cheeks rouged an unnaturally bright red—Cyn’s doing, no doubt. Her mum was making an obvious effort to seem brisk and cheerful and, when Gemma came in, to play her usual role as mediator.
    When she kissed Gemma on the cheek, her lips felt dry as paper. “I’m so glad you’ve come, love. The boys—did you bring them?”
    “No, since they couldn’t come in to see you.” Gemma resisted the urge to elaborate, realizing that the fact that Cyn’s kids were there, even in the courtyard, made her look as if she’d let her mum down. Instead, she asked, “How are you feeling, Mummy?”
    “Your dad brought me a filled roll from the bakery,” her mother answered, deflecting. “Wasn’t that nice? The food here’s dreadful, but what can you expect?”
    Gemma took in the remains of the roll on the bedside tray, barely nibbled, and felt her own stomach clench with anxiety. Her mother was eating like a bird, and she’d lost more weight than Gemma had realized. “Have the doctors been in? What have they said?”
    “Oh, more tests. You know doc—”
    “We don’t really need to be talking about that, do we now?” her dad cut in, speaking for the first time. “We’re here to cheer your mother up.”
    “Surely Mummy is the one to decide whether she wants to—”
    “It’s all right, love.” Her mother forced a smile. “I’m sure they know what they’re doing.”
    Gemma bit her lip. The last thing her mum needed to hear were the statistics Gemma had read on the shockingly bad quality of hospital care or the chance of secondary infection.
    Her sister, who had been remarkably quiet, looked up from examining her long pink nails and gave her a very slight shake of the head. In spite of the fact that she didn’t often see Cyn these days, and that they had fought like demons growing up, they shared aningrained understanding of the family dynamic. That one gesture spoke volumes—things were bad, and their mother meant to keep it from their father, with his full cooperation. Vi Walters had spent her life protecting her husband from upsets, and she wasn’t about to let a little thing like illness change matters.
    “Right, then.” Gemma stood and kissed her mother again, more gently this time. “I’ll come in the morning, Mum, see how you’re getting on.” With her father manning the bakery, she might have a chance of learning the truth.
     
    Melody Talbot’s mobile rang on Monday morning one minute before her alarm was due to ring. Muzzily, she