Blank Stares

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Sitting beside someone's death bed when you never knew them in life brings a feeling of awkwardness and discomfort that little else in life could ever bring.

As George sat on a rickety little wooden chair in the dimly lit master bedroom of the quaint Canterbury cottage home to the Crawford family, he wasn't sure what to do, or what to say.

He knew that he couldn't leave, he couldn't just drop Jenny off at the house and go home, for that would be rude and unsupportive.

But nonetheless it was very strange to know he was sat beside a woman he had never known, who had never known him, and knowing that he was going to be one of the three people present by her side as she passed away.

Nobody seemed to know what to say, Jenny hadn't spoken a word since she had taken the phone call from Mel back at the restaurant, the grief and hopelessness lingered in the air like a bad smell, and he felt useless.

He hadn't really considered before how triggering someone's death might be for him, but he couldn't help but find himself travelling back to the 2nd of May 1998 and watching as his brother was killed. It had been over a year of no loss for the couple, a year of relative happiness and peace, and all of a sudden it felt like they had been transported back to the ruined castle, surrounded by disaster and heartache.

George hadn't looked up since he sat down almost three hours ago, scared to see the pained look on Jenny's face and know there was absolutely nothing that he could do to repair what was breaking her soul. He had heard her sniffling a few times, but nothing more had been said between the three people.

He was conscious of another strange presence, that of Mel, who was controlling Mrs Crawford's pain and breathing, and when she wasn't doing that she was either sat stroking the woman's hair, or comforting the woman who was about to be orphaned.

George jumped out of his skin when the silence was broken for the first time.

"How long does she have left, Mel?" Jenny's voice was cracked and hoarse, for she hadn't used it all night. It was thick with misery and grief and it made George shudder.

"Oh sweetheart, I don't know. If I could tell you, I would, but it's hard to predict. It could be ten minutes from now, but it could be a day or two," It was evident from Mel's voice that she too had been crying considerable amounts over the course of the evening. Jenny had mentioned before how Mel spent almost all of her time in the house caring for Mrs Crawford, and George could hardly imagine how she was feeling as she watched her beloved patient slip away. It was an incredibly emotional and intense atmosphere.

"I hope that it's soon," Jenny sighed, and George furrowed his brow.

"Why?" He asked.

"I know she's in pain. She doesn't deserve to be in pain any more," George looked up at Jenny and found that she was gripping her mothers hand, so tightly that her knuckles had faded to white, as if she so badly hoped if she held on, she couldn't go anywhere.

"What was she like?" George asked, his voice no more than a whisper. For some reason he felt scared he would wake the woman lying on the bed, though he knew it was almost impossible, for Mrs Crawford was already some place else entirely.

"She was amazing, Georgie. Just perfect. Your Mum really reminds me of her, she was loving, kind, warm, bubbly. You'd have loved her, and she'd have loved you," Jenny looked up at him and smiled, though her eyes were overcome with tears.

"She'd be so proud of you, I know that," Mel spoke up, and the tears began to fall from Jenny's eyes.

"It's about time she went home now, back with Dad. Losing him broke her, now it's his turn to fix her again," Jenny wiped the tears from her eyes and she watched as her mothers breathing became more laboured, more tired, more rattled.

"I think it's time to say goodbye now, darling girl," Mel was holding back a sob as she looked at the monitor that Mrs Crawford was wired to, watching as her vital signs began to decline, slowly and steadily.

"I can't do this Mel, I can't be alone," Jenny shook her head, her sobs coming thick and fast as George jumped up to wrap his arms around her.

"You're not alone sweetheart. You'll always have me, and you've got George here now, it's his turn to look after you," Mel said, "you need to let her go, now,"

It was obvious the end of Mrs Crawford's life was seconds away now, and Jenny slowly composed herself, lowing herself onto the bed beside her mother and wrapping her arms around her, burying herself into her neck.

"Goodnight, Mummy,"

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