Young Writers Society

Chapter 18

It was nearly Christmas, and I was sitting on my dream-sill, watching snowflakes glaze the window, dreaming about the sound of whistling windchimes. I had just returned from a visit to Mrs Brown's house, where I had read her the second chapter of my story about the Russian prince on the opposite block of flats.

I had thought that, after her husband's death, she would have wanted to be alone, but she had encouraged me to keep visiting. Our meetings were quieter now. We always had cinnamon tea, and over our rose patterned cups I would read my stories. I think it provided a refuge for her as well, to escape reality.

I often saw her the chestnut and emerald flecks in her eyes flickering dreamily as she stared into the cinnamon leaves swirling at the bottom of her cup. Whenever I saw such a look on her face, I knew this meant she had lost herself in the depths of my story and was far, far away from the ground floor flat at Drayton Road.

I was glad I'd managed to see her, as it had been ages since my last visit. I had constantly been spending time with Ruby, who dissaproved of my relationship with Mrs Brown and discouraged me from spending time with her. She thought it was bad for me to meet her but she would never understand our special bond so I did not explain it to her. Mrs Brown had noticed my sudden distance to her and I felt guilty but what could I do?

As I sat on my dream-sill, I saw the sound of crackly music coming from the CD player in Mum's room and smiled. Mum had always harboured a passion for classical music and it was good to see her like her old self again. Symphonies of Chopin and Debussy and Mozart danced through the flat, lightening the atmosphere and putting a smile on even Miss Alcock's face.

It was Thursday when I heard the siren blaring outside our block of flats. I rushed downstairs to find men in blue uniforms lifting a stretcher out from an ambulance parked outside.

The post lady was pointing at the 1st flat on the ground floor. Mrs Brown’s flat. I heard a string of words flow from her mouth, “I was coming to deliver a parcel, needed her to sign it, the door wasn’t shut so when I knocked it opened. I saw this lady…”

I didn’t stop to hear the rest, eavesdropping like that. Barefoot, I hurried down the stairs. I skidded on the vinyl step, slippery because it had just been washed, and hurt my knee badly, but I didn’t stop.

I grabbed the banister, hoisted myself up and ran the rest of the way, taking the steps two at a time.

I arrived in time to see Mrs Brown being lifted onto the stretcher and carried to the ambulance. I hurried towards her and gasped at the sight. Her eyes were shut and hidden behind the folds of wrinkles, her face was ashen white and still, she looked thinner than ever and almost ethereal.

“Oh God,” I said under my breath.

The third paramedic, who wasn’t carrying the stretcher, noticed me gawking and approached me.“Do you know this lady, love?” he asked.

I nodded, not able to say anything, my words caught in my throat. I felt like if I’d spoke all my anxiety and shock would burst out in an explosion of nothingness.

He put a hand on my shoulder. “You family?”

I nodded again, in such a blur I couldn’t think of anything but being with Mrs Brown. He asked me a series of questions, whether I should go and ask my parents whether it would be alright to come with her, if I was a granddaughter.

I just stood there and nodded stupidly, hoping he’d get distracted so I could just get on the ambulance, and he did. The paramedics called for help from the ambulance, and he hurried towards them. I followed him, and clambered inside the van, shutting the door. I knelt beside Mrs Brown’s stretcher and held her hand, squeezing it tight. It was birdlike and deeply veined, the fingers cold and thin.

The ambulance started off, and the paramedic rushed to Mrs Brown’s side. He pumped her heart with his hands and then gave her mouth to mouth resuscitation. I didn’t take anything in after that, because my guilt was flooding my brains, churning in my stomach. I should have been there. I should have been there.

My head swimming, I let go of her hand, shaking all over, my heart beating in my chest like a crashing cymbal. I could feel a cold sweat splashing over me, and my surroundings started spinning darkening, the objects distorting like after a stone has been thrown into a whirlpool and the serene, untouched spread of water erupts into a million drops.

***

I opened my eyes, looking around me. A dark, unfamiliar room but a familiar smell. People’s hushed voices, towering over me, stifling my air. I felt a fan by me and its echoing breeze hit my warm body.

I sat up and the same overwhelming feeling came over me again, my heart beat heavy and fast, and I shook all over. I was so overpowered that I threw up in a bowl conveniently placed by the bed I was lying on.

Slowly, the shadowy outlines around me became clearer and more defined. There were people in white uniforms, standing around me but not registering I was awake or occupied with me. Why?

Snatches of memories and blurred remnants of incidents hurtled into my mind, colliding with each other and mingling until nothing made sense. I tried to calm down, taking deep breaths and lying back on my pillow. After a while, I remembered where I had been last – in an ambulance…with Mrs Brown. Mrs Brown.

“Mrs Brown!” I yelled, shooting up, nearly spewing out again as the taste of vomit shot up in my throat.

Defeated with the effort of this, I collapsed back on the bed, feeling weaker than I’d ever felt before. I only had the strength to sob, “Mrs Brown…where is she? Please…please…” I could sense people nearing me, speaking in soft undertones, a cold flannel placed on my forehead.

My muscled tensed up, my whole body throbbing as the pain got sharper and I sank deeper into my covers. It was getting harder to breathe.

“Shhh, love,” a deep female voice said. I didn’t have the vigour to raise my head and see who was talking. “Calm down. Don’t tire yourself out.”

“Please…can I see Mrs Brown,” I wept. “Please…”

I sat up and made an effort to prevent the faint feeling coming back, taking deep breaths in and out.

I saw the woman speaking to me was a lady in her forty’s, with straw coloured hair and a crooked parting.

“I’m sorry, dear...you’re not really…” she broke off and turned away as someone else was speaking to her. “What?” I heard her say. “Alright.”

“Actually,"she continued, turning back to me, “I’ve been told that, under the circumstances, you will be able to see Mrs Brown. She’s in Delmont ward, you’ll see it along the corridor. But before you go, please prepare yourself for …”

I didn’t hear half her sentence because I had pushed the covers off and dashed out of the room. My vision was still blurry and I kept careering into people, only aware of a strong, harsh light stinging my eyes. I bumped into the wall and let out a cry at the pain. I heard the echo of footsteps coming towards me.

“What are you doing, dear?” said a friendly looking nurse.

“Trying,” I gasped, “to get to the Delmont ward.”

“I’m just going up that way myself,” she smiled. “Follow me, dear.”

I followed her down to the ward. I pushed the door open and charged in, rushing to the bed where nurses and doctors were standing round. But I was oblivious to them. I knelt beside the bed, clutching Mrs Brown’s weightless hand tightly.

“Mrs Brown,” I whispered, a tear rolling down the bridge of my nose. “It’s me. Please, Mrs Brown. Wake up.” I choked on my tears, squeezing her hand, trying to bring life back into her, but nothing worked. I felt disembodied, helpless to do anything.

“Wake up, Mrs Brown,” I begged. “Wake up. Please…I’m sorry…I’m sorry. Please…please wake up!” I broke off, holding my head in my hands, my cheeks and blouse soaked in tears. I felt her finger raise ever so slightly and then drop back down on my hand.

“It’s you,” Mrs Brown murmured in a guttural, croaky voice, struggling to speak. I saw one doctor move forwards but a nurse held him back, shaking her head.

“Yes,” I said eagerly, trying to control myself, wiping tears away with my other hand.“Yes, it’s me. I’ve…”

“Karen,” said Mrs Brown.

“What?” I asked in a faltering voice, missing a beat.

“My Karen,” said Mrs Brown, trying to sit up and failing. “You’ve come back to me. I knew you would. Hold me, Karen. Hold me tight…” she broke off, wincing with pain.

The doctor who had been restrained from the nurse finally approached me and took me aside.

“Are you Karen?” he whispered.

“No, no,” I sighed. “Karen’s her daughter. She died many years ago.”

“Alright,” he said, pausing to think. “OK, I know this sounds hard but. She’s…she’s going. We want it to be peaceful…so just let her think that…well, that you are in fact Karen. It might be for the best, dear.”

I nodded. “I know. I know.”

I went back to the bedside, fresh tears coming down my cheeks. I could hardly breathe or speak in between the moments I gasped for air.

“Why are you crying, Karen?” Mrs Brown asked.

“I…I…” Despair got the better of me and I couldn’t carry on. I felt a sharp pain spiralling upwards in my stomach, sickening me.

“Don’t cry, darling.

I’m with you now, Karen,” Mrs Brown murmured.

“But...don’t leave me,” I cry. “Don’t go…Susan. Don’t leave me…don’t leave me.” I sank down onto the floor, leaning against the bed, yanking my tear-blurred glasses off and throwing them down. I let out an involuntary shudder.

“I…I can’t let you go. I can’t let you go like this…without knowing…without knowing.”

Mrs Brown stretched her hand out as far as it would go, trying to stroke my head.

“You don’t understand, Karen. You’ve come…We’re together now.”

I straightened up from the ground and tried to make an effort for her sake.

“Oh…oh please,” was all I managed to get out though.

“ Don’t cry, Karen. We’re together. We won’t have to worry about anything anymore.”

I felt my body shaking, my eyes throbbing, my muscles tightening. My whole body was shaking. I felt like the world was shaking beneath me, instead of me. I started to feel dizzy; the world was going too fast and the colour was darkening and nothing was real. It was like the sun had disappeared.

“We don’t have to worry about anything anymore,” she repeated, and upon these words her chest heaved with a melancholy sigh, and breathed in.

Then, suddenly, she looked at me, mesmerized, and her eyes flickered with recognition. She gave a half gasp and then froze, her sore eyes transfixed on me, her swollen, chapped lips parted.

I froze too, it was like time had stopped for the two of us and we were stuck, spellbound, in this strange, quiet little world where the clocks didn’t tick. And then I let out a little cry and clutched my stomach.

Tick.

Tick.

Tick.

Time had stopped, for her now.