The Girl Who Lied(78)

‘What were you doing out in the rain? I thought Fiona and Sean were bringing you home.’

‘Sean had to work late. Some emergency or something, so Fiona and I got a taxi back from the hospital.’ Mum takes her wet clothes through to the kitchen and puts them into the washing machine.

‘So how come you’re so wet?’ I ask

‘I went for a walk. I needed some time to think about what the doctor said.’

I look at my watch. ‘It’s half-past nine. It’s a bit late to go wandering around, especially in this weather.’

‘Ah, sure, it wasn’t raining then. Like I said, I just got caught in it.’

‘Where was Fiona? Didn’t she offer to go with you?’ I don’t like the thought of Mum wandering around in the dark.

‘I didn’t tell her. It was a spur-of-the-moment thing,’ says Mum. I follow her back through to the bathroom, where she plucks a towel from the airing cupboard and passes it to me. ‘You’re a fine one to talk, you’re soaking yourself.’

I take the towel and rub vigorously at my hair. ‘So where’s Fiona now?’ I ask.

‘She had to get back for the babysitter. She had a couple of things that needed sorting out.’

‘Well, don’t be going off again like that without telling someone,’ I say.

Mum laughs. ‘Yes, Mummy.’

‘It’s not funny,’ I reply, although I can feel the corners of my mouth turning up. I give in and a broad grin spreads across my face.

‘Now you know how I felt all those years ago when the two of you were out.’ Mum comes over and kisses me. ‘Am I grounded now?’

‘No, but you can have an early night for your cheek.’

‘I’ll have a cup of tea first, though.’

‘I’ll ring Fiona. Check she got home okay,’ I say, as I head to my room to get changed into some dry clothes.

Mum has taken to coming home the last few nights. Fiona and I have managed to persuade her she will have a better night’s sleep in her own bed and reassure her that the hospital will ring if there is any change at all.

I call Fiona’s mobile number, but can’t get through, so I call the house phone instead. An unfamiliar voice, who I assume is the babysitter, picks up the call.

‘I was trying to get hold of Fiona,’ I say. ‘It’s her sister. Is she there?’

‘Hi. It’s Karen. I’m the babysitter,’ comes the reply. ‘Fiona’s not back from the hospital yet.’

‘Oh, right. I expected her to be back by now.’ I wedge the phone between my shoulder and chin as I wriggle out of my jeans and into my pyjamas.

‘She called me to say she had been held up, but she’d be back as soon as possible,’ says Karen. ‘Shall I get her to call you?’

‘If you could. I’ll try her mobile again. I might get hold of her that way.’

I end the call, puzzled as to where Fiona might be. She and Mum had come home by taxi, dropping Mum off first. I consider questioning Mum, but decide against it – she has enough to worry about without me inventing things. I’m not my sister’s keeper. Maybe she’s called in to see a friend. I give Fiona’s mobile one more try. This time it rings.

My sister’s out-of-breath voice comes on the line.

‘Hi, Erin. Everything okay?’

‘Yes. All good. Are you okay? I rang the house, but your babysitter was still there.’

‘I’ve literally just walked in now. I had to pick up a bit of shopping on the way home and bumped into one of the mums from school. We got chatting – you know what it’s like. Where are you?’

‘I’m at the flat. Mum’s here. I was just checking you got back.’

‘Yep, all safe and sound,’ says Fiona. ‘I’ll call by the café tomorrow after I’ve done the school and nursery run. One of us can take Mum to the hospital and the other can stay in the café. How does that sound?’

‘That sounds fine. I’ll take Mum up to the hospital, if you like.’

‘Really? I mean, that’s great,’ says Fiona. ‘I’ll see you in the morning.’

I don’t miss the note of surprise in Fiona’s voice and I appreciate the quick recovery she makes. Both Fiona and Mum will be pleased with my change of heart about visiting Dad, but I’m not ready for a big discussion about it. Knowing my family as I do, I’m confident they will let it go, silently accepting and approving of my new attitude.

Mum looks comfortable in the armchair, her big blue dressing gown pulled tight around her, a cup of tea resting in her hands on her lap. She nods towards the other cup, which she has made for me, on the coffee table. Finishing my call with Fiona, I replace the receiver in its cradle.