The White House - Book 6, The Porth Kerensa Series

Chapter Twenty-Five

It was dark and a bitter wind was blowing when Elise arrived at the hospital a little after six pm. She hurried through the busy corridors to the bank of theatres, where the receptionist had directed her, praying with every step she took. She found Keith sitting in a lonely waiting room, clutching a cold cup of coffee and she squatted down in front of him and whispered his name. He looked at her, vacantly, for a few seconds, before tears filled his eyes and he threw his arms around her, crying loudly.

Alarmed and worried, Elise said, “What happened? Is Val okay?”

“She was crossing the road on her way to a meeting and she got hit by a lorry,” he stammered, between gulping sobs. “The doctor said she suffered massive internal bleeding everywhere. They operated on her for a long time…they were in there for hours, but they lost her twenty minutes ago.”

Elise pulled away from him so sharply that she fell backwards and lay sprawled, undignified, on the green floor. Time seemed to stand still and she never knew how long she lay there staring, stupidly, at him waiting for him to tell her it was an ill-judged ludicrous prank, but he simply wept and said nothing.

“You’re lying,” she whispered, brokenly. “Please, tell me you’re lying.”

“I wish to God I were,” he muttered, bitterly.

When a nurse entered the room a few minutes later she found Keith and Elise, sobbing and rocking on the floor with their arms wrapped around each other. Wisely, she backed away and left them alone for a little while longer.

      ******

It was gone nine in the evening when Elise arrived at her mother’s home above a shop in Tonbridge. Sarah Grayson was surprised when Elise rang the doorbell; however, she recovered her equilibrium quickly enough and invited her daughter into the small one bedroom flat. Elise walked in behind her, feeling out of place and watching Sarah fuss with her perfectly cut and dyed hair as she led her into the lounge.

Elise looked around the little room, surprised by the memories that flooded her when she saw the familiar tatty ancient Christmas tree that her mother still hadn’t taken down, standing in the corner, decorated with the old faded baubles from her childhood. A pang of guilt she wasn’t expecting rumbled inside her when she thought of her mother alone over Christmas. She could have invited her to the house in Kent, but they’d been packing things away for the move and had barely acknowledged the holiday themselves.

She had thought it was better that way.

Sarah stood, uncertainly, in front of her armchair. “You should have let me know you were coming to visit, I haven’t really got much in.” She looked Elise up and down with a frown on her face. “Look at you, for goodness sake, you’re far too thin. Do you want me to make you some dinner?”

Elise squashed the instant irritation that flared inside her and shook her head. “No, thanks, Mum; besides is there such a thing as too thin?”

“When you look like a walking corpse then I’d say that’s too thin,” Sarah replied, primly. “What are you doing here, Elise? Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?”

“I didn’t plan on ending up here,” Elise snapped, waspishly, her aggravation evident now. Her mother was a woman who usually liked to needle about the lack of visits from her only daughter, so why was she being so unwelcoming? “Besides, my phone ran out of battery so I couldn’t ring you when I realised I was on my way.”

“Shall I make a cup of tea then? I should make us both a cup of tea and cut some cake maybe. I have Dundee cake in the cupboard, if you’d like some.” 

“Sit down, Mum! I’ll make the bloody tea,” Elise snapped, exasperated. She forced herself to breathe in deeply as she walked into the tiny kitchen.