“Excuse me, can you tell me where Mr and Mrs Rosen are?”
I try to keep my voice as low as possible while still being audible to the receptionist in front of me. The receptionist’s whole person is veiled by the desktop in front of her. She holds up a finger, and I hear her typing away.
After my wooing Ms Bragge into telling me where Mum’s parents are, she texted me an address. Though, I have now arrived at my destination after getting lost once, asking two people for direction(one of them even asking whether I was new to the city or not), and three wrong turns.
I turn around and see several people sitting on the metallic blue seats, minding their own business. A child makes faces at his inattentive father typing on a tablet, while a girl, a few years older than me, keeps checking on the oblivious guy reading a book.
A man strides in from some ward, stops, and looks at me while scratching his head.
Without giving him a proper glance, I turn again towards the receptionist and she slides her head from the computer with a warm smile.
“Ward Four: Room number eight. Go straight and then right. If you get confused, then just ask a nurse on duty.
“By the way, love, I’ve never seen anyone visit the Rosens besides one particular brute. Mind if I ask what you are to them?
Also, I can’t let you in without an adult if you’re under eighteen.”
My head turns around, and the man who stopped earlier is now nearing the desk. I glance at the marble desk in front of me.
“I’m a relative. I’m not eighteen, but it’s urgent for me to go.”
“Sorry, love. Hospital rules.”
I am about to protest more, but the man from behind leans in at a suitable distance and says,
“Hi there, Ms Collins. I see you’ve met my niece.” He nods at me.
That's when I squint my eyes and realise it's Uncle Gary.
My arms drop to my sides.
Why's he here?
Uncle continues, “I’ll be taking her to the Rosens. Thanks for understanding.”
He smiles at her, and gestures for me to move forward. I blink several times, while the receptionist only says that it’s all right.
I’m not going to get a better chance than this…
I go with the flow and nod at the receptionist. Uncle then smiles and ambles ahead. I stay a few steps back with my arms across my chest.
"Uncle."
Without having to further explain, he turns around and smiles.
"Haven't seen you in a while, Lindsey. How's my favourite neice?"
I start walking forward and so does he.
"I'm your only neice, Uncle." A sideway smirk encases my face.
"Makes favouritism easier then." He goes on merrily.
Shaking my head, I look about myself.
This hospital is much more alive than Edenfield with all the doctors, nurses and people strolling through the partially white halls. Awareness posters and several notices hang on the walls. Some are medical examination datesheets.
The scent isn’t like the overwhelming odour of drugs usually described. The smell of medicinal cleansing is still there, but the soft touch of jasmine overshadows it.
Blinking, I wonder...
Then comes a sudden shift.
A figure with black hair and beige skin walks past us, and turns around a corner. Making me stop.
For a second there, I thought I saw Mr Alam…
“Well, come on.” Uncle stops at my stationary figure, and my eyes blink a few times at the corner before asking,
“I... Aunt Sara's all right, right?" My sweaty palms rub against my jacket.
"Of course, she is."
Uncle looks down, before pointing a finger at the room in the far left side of the corridor. It has the number eight on it. Squinting my eyes, I move a few feet further while footsteps become faint behind me. A voice resounds from behind,
“But someone else isn't.”
Huh?
I look behind, and Uncle's gone.
Wrangling my head about, I'm only able to see his brown coat disappearing into the far end of the corner.
Uncle always was a bit of a weirdo... like me...
Some heavy breaths heave my chest up and down, as a sigh escapes from me.
There are a few seats nearby that are attached to the walls. I am about to sit on one of them, but then a door clicks open from behind me.
A woman with shoulder length grey hair comes out. Her head is drooped and arms are folded in front of her, while wrinkles embellish her features. She somehow still looks beautiful in her knee-length blue dress.
She puts a hand behind her neck and her ocean-blue eyes widen at me. She looks at me up and down, while I have a sudden urge to press a hand at the back of my neck as well.
“L-Lindsey…”
I slowly nod at her, just as her spindly arms wrap around my person. A grunt almost escapes from me.
Try understandin’.
Gellert’s voice calms down my sudden repulse, but I still can’t force my arms from their limp position.
She releases me after a few seconds and caresses my cheek.
“Do you need some tea? Or maybe coffee? You seem cold, honey. In my day, they used to make real jackets. Not like these jackets that protect from the cold as much as a swimsuit.”
I rub her knuckles with my thumb and pull her hands down.
“Thank you, but I’m always as cold as a blizzard.”
Her eyes fall for a few moments, but then she gestures at the seat attached next to the wall. I sit without a second thought with her settling down next to me. I keep looking down at my enclasped palms.
“You look so much like your father, dear. But you still have Jenny’s eyes.”
I look up and find the same ocean blue eyes gazing back at me with a lambent warmth.
“I know, Mrs Rosen,” I say without any other word tumbling in my head.
I mentally slap my forehead.
She ignores my calling her Mrs Rosen and says,
“I wouldn’t have recognised you if you didn’t have those blue eyes. You know, my own mother had them too.
Though, I’m afraid, blue eyes are not so uncommon as they were in my days.
“Your grandfather always said that he adored mine and Jenny’s eyes. He said that they’re warm, even though being icy-blue. When Jenny was born, she had the bluest eyes I’d ever seen in a baby…”
She keeps telling me tales and tales of Richard Rosen and Mum with a childlike glow emanating from her.
I don’t have the heart to stop her from doing so.
“Anyways, enough about me; how’re Dylan and Giselle? I hope they’re good. I haven’t seen either of them in seven years…”
“You all didn’t exactly end your relations on civil terms, Mrs Rosen…”
Little too blunt, mate.
I mentally shrug at my subconscious.
She brings her nails near her mouth and says, “I know…”
A person wearing a green sweater walks out of a room, waves at someone within it, and walks away with a smile on their face.
Now green reminds me of Dylan.
“Why didn’t you visit my mum after she married my dad? Is it because he was from a different religion?”
Mary shakes her head and looks at me with wide eyes.
“No, honey. It wasn’t because Charles was a Protestant… Though, it would have been preferable if she’d dated a Jew like herself… Do you know your mum’s best friend, Gary? He’s a Protestant too, and your grandfather and I actually wanted Jenny and him to be together… But she fell for your father and Gary for Sara. Gary and Charles even became friends, you know.”
“Then tell me why you two never liked my dad. I want- need to understand…” I rasp.
“It- It’s complicated…”
She breathes out, and drops her head.
My hand frees itself from its lock and glides over the top of Mrs Rosen’s hand. Her index twitches, but it settles down.
“I know you can do it… Don’t let the past eat you up inside. Let it all out.”
Her breathing comes in intervals as her eyelids keep shutting and opening again.
“When you get to my age, Lindsey, remember that you keep revisiting places from your childhood, teenage and parenthood even…
And over the years, you might get prejudiced against some people and you think it’s justifiable to want your children to avoid those people… Because, at the end of the day, nobody wants their children to face the same problems they’ve had.
“I won’t ask you to agree with me, but try to understand perhaps…”
I caress her hand again and urge her to continue. She smiles at me before saying,
“Richard and I have known each other for the longest of time. We were neighbours even while growing up…”
She stops to take a rest, and a sad smile on her face.
“Richard also had an elder sister named Madeline Agnes. You don’t know how I felt when I found out that Charles and Jenny middle named their daughters after her...
Though, I thought Charles didn’t know but how could I expect that? The two of them told each other everything…”
Madeline is Kathy’s middle name and Agnes is mine…
“Madeline Agnes was one of the best women I’d ever met, Lindsey. She was almost ten years older than Richard…
She was beautiful, sweet, kind hearted… everything that would make a child adore her…
We were all so happy at that time, Lindsey…
“When she turned twenty, she met a man. He seemed perfect: handsome, smart, and, quite wrongfully, kind.
“Long story short: She married him four years later and became Mrs David Gow.”
Wait, David Gow is that guy Mum and Dad were talking about in that manipulated dream…
Dad reassuring Mum that her knowing that he isn’t like that is all that matter…
“David Gow was also very wealthy. Cars, expensive suits, that upper class snobbery… he had it all.
Richard and I were only fourteen when they married and only Richard’s father had already passed away at that time. Richard and Madeline Agnes only had their mother, but even she was always ill…
“Madeline Agnes loved Gow so much, but he… never valued her.”
She puts her free hand on her upper lip.
Oh…
“You don’t have to continue if you don’t want to…”
“No, no. We’ve comes this far. Let me finish.”
She takes a sharp breath again and says,
“She was going to surprise Gow for their first anniversary, that they were going to have another family member…
“But she was at Richard’s all day, before she back to that wretched mansion she now lived in with Gow… She was so happy, Lindsey.
“S-she found him with another woman on their bed, on their anniversary! Can you believe the bastard!”
She hand flies away from mine as she flails her arms in the air, and I instinctively move back a bit.
“She came back to us, told Richard’s mother everything… Richard and I eavesdropped… Then, one day she fell down the stairs…"
A sudden sense of deja-vu envelops me.
“We called an ambulance. They trued to save her and the baby but… no one survived.
Gow even had the audacity to show his miserable face!
Richard’s mother was furious and sobbing…
“I think that’s the day when Richard changed… And it all happened on his fifteenth birthday…
“When we first met your father, there were some uncanny similarities. Protestant, rich, that vibe you all seem to have and...”
She looks at my furrowed brows and quickly says,
“One just gets that aura from you three. I know Charles, Dylan and you are not snobs. You wouldn’t be patiently listening to on old lady’s babbling if you were."
But you're not babbling...
“I first met Dylan when he was about your age. Though, he didn’t know who I was at that time. I recognised him because he looks so much like your father… except for the hair, of course.
At that time, I first thought he was a bit of a snob, but I can’t say that about him after not seeing him for so long.”
Dylan, a snob?
"No worries.
But you said and.
What were you going to say?"
Mrs Rosen bites her lower lip.
"And then we found out Charles was actually related to Gow."
My jaw drops.
She nods,
"I think Gow was your grandfather's cousin. Though, I don't think they interacted much with each other..."
Well then. Everybody's family here.
Without noticing my tilted head, she continues:
“Richard has a medical insurance, and we still get our pensions. But the bank always notifies that some money has been added anonymously every month…
“When we first met Charles, we thought that history was repeating itself. That even our little Jenny would end up like Madeline Agnes.
Jenny knew about what had happened to her aunt and insisted that Charles wasn’t like that… That made both Richard and I angry. It made us think that she’s being blinded by love like Madeline and she doesn’t even know it!
“We didn’t want to lose our daughter too.
But Jenny was right about Charles… He wasn’t like Gow at all…”
She tries to catch her breath after making her speech in one-go.
My hands rub her shoulder and her own palm gently removes them, reassuring me that she’s all right.
“Do... Do you need anything? I can probably get something from the cafeteria…”
“No, I’m all right, honey.”
Should I or shouldn’t I ask another question…
Without my asking, she answers,
“After your mother died… we received a call from your home, which we ignored. Then a few days later, it was all over the newspapers. We weren’t even able to attend the funeral…
We just wanted something from Jenny back, a part of her to remember. That’s why we took your custody case to Court.
“Richard still denies the Court’s decision, but we both know we couldn’t have your custody.
“I’ve already had two heart attacks and another would be my end. Richard, well, that’s why he’s here… He’s been here for almost two years now… We wouldn’t even have known of Richard’s condition, if the court hadn’t insisted on Richard, me and Giselle taking medical tests.
Giselle just had a minor case of diabetes and Dylan was perfectly healthy too.
Keeping that in mind, Richard and I weren’t the best candidates for taking care of a child…”
Mary stands up from her seat, brushes her hands against her blue skirt. She takes a few steps towards the room, but stops and looks at me,
“Aren’t you going to Richard, too? He’s in that room.”
“I…”
I look around the ward and the posters on the noticeboard, along with the several papers on it. I gulp.
“This isn’t a normal ward, is it…”
She looks at where I’m glancing, and shakes her head.
She takes my hand; I let her.
Mary opens the door, and I have to withdraw my hand to allow her. Some shuffling and grunting resounds from within the room.
“Mary, is Gary back already? That boy never understands that I need some goddamn peace!”
Gary...
"But someone else isn't."
So... he was hinting at Richard...
I slide in myself, just as Mary slaps her forehead. Richard twists and turns in his bed, so that he’s facing me. His eyes widen but then his scratches his now bald head. He looks somewhat withered.
So, this really is the cancer ward…
He narrows his eyes at me, just as I look around. There are four beds in this room, with two filled. One of them has a snoring patient who has their curtains pulled over.
The room isn’t as dull as I imagined it to be, but it definitely looks pale with a few splashes of colour thrown in by posters, fruit baskets and a television put on mute.
“Well, isn’t it Lindsey Knightley. Come to grace us with your presence?”
He presses his lips to the side.
I roll my eyes at him and fold my arms.
“That was a pretty pretentious thing to say, wasn’t it?”
“Wow, an obnoxious attitude too! Definite copy of the father.”
I raise a finger to stab at his direction, and open my mouth.
That isn’t something Dad would’ve done.
My finger falls and so do my lips. Instead, Mary speaks for me,
“Richard, you know as well as anyone else that Charles had an attitude, but he was never obnoxious.”
Richard mumbles something under his breath, and turns over.
Mary sighs and gives me a shoulder shrug, before turning towards her husband.
“I told her, Richard, told her everything.”
Richard bolts upright but then he cringes at his own speed. Mary goes to his side, but he waves a hand.
“I’m all right, Mary…”
He takes a few deep breaths, while Mary stays by his side. I stay at the same position.
The door clicks open and the man who got me in enters with a coffee cup holder tray.
“I got your favourite coffees, Mary, Richard! Though, I’ll be going back home soon to the kids and Sara.”
He turns to me and gives a cup as well.
“I remembered you didn’t like coffee when you were younger. So, I just got some hot chocolate. I hope that’s all right.”
He gives me a cup, before proceeding to hand over Mary and Richard’s.
“Oh great, now Gary Palmer’s here too! Why don’t we all bring a disco ball now!” Richard puts his hands on his sides, just as Gary places the cup on his table with a smile.
Wait, Gary Palmer?
His surname's Palmer...
It had occurred to me once to ask his surname in one of the visits, but the topic always seemed too adrupt. And I always forgot to Ms Bragge later on. She just called him Gary.
“Will you all pipe down! I’m trying to get some sleep!” a voice from the curtailed bed comes, just as I plonk the cup on the table next to me.
“Oh and Dick, disco balls went out of style decades ago.”
“Will you stop calling me Dick! I go by Richard!” Richard reaches to maybe pull at his hair, but grunts at finding nothing.
“Not my fault that your name can be shortened to both an insult!”
Richard grits his teeth, while Mary and Gary snicker away.
A few moments later, a snore comes from the other bed.
I place the coffee cup in my hand on the folding table right next to me, and almost slap my forehead.
Why didn’t I realise it before…
It’s Uncle Gary…
My mouth drops a bit, and Uncle notices it from the side of his eye. He turns around and suppresses a laugh,
“Looks like you finally remembered…”
“Uncle Gary… How, how did you know that it was me at the reception…”
He gives me smile that doesn’t really cover his entire face,
“The same way Mary did…”
I blink.
“And the cemetery caretaker is your dad?”
“Yep. I was on the phone with him today and he told me that you were there earlier.”
“But I’ve been there before, and he’s never said anything about being related to my mum’s best friend. Why didn’t he say anything?”
I wave my arms downward and slap them on my thighs in disbelief.
“The same reason why I wasn’t able to say anything to you after the accident.”
He looks downwards, just as my mind weaves all the string in.
Gilbert Palmer: the 1890 gardener.
Gellert Palmer: the cemtery caretaker.
Gary Palmer: Mum’s best friend…
This is all way more connected than I thought it’d be.
“I won’t justify why I've been that tosser sort of uncle...
“All I’ll say is that… I’m sorry I wasn’t strong enough after Jenn passed away. She was like a sister to me…”
The room plays another episode of silence after Uncle finishes his say. He leans back into the wall, while Mr Rosen falls back in his head, muttering to himself. Mrs Rosen shoots him a glare, making him stop.
“People change and it isn’t always their fault; I’ve come to accept that, Uncle.
“Thanks for the hot chocolate.” I pick up the cup and look at Mr and Mrs Rosen.
“And also for answering my questions.”
I turn on my heels, and stretch my arm to put the cup back on the table.
I pull it back.
“You’re welcome here always, Lindsey. It’s not like we have a lot of visitors…”
I expect the offer to come from Mary, but find her too staring at Richard saying that.
With a shake of my head, I walk out of the ward.
...I sincerely apologise to all those named Dick. In my defence, how can you expect for ME to not use a pun like that? XD
Hi everbody! I hope you all are well. :)
The music above is from Muhteşem Yüzyıl: Hürrem(seasons 1 and 2 are about Hürrem Sultan and 3 and 4 are about Kösem Sultan). It's in Ukrainian and called 'Hürrem/Mehmed's Lullaby'(Mehmed was her son).
Man, I should get paid for advertising them so much, shouldn't I? XD
Oh and Muhteşem Yüzyıl is Turkish for 'Magnificent Century'. :)
And GREAT! I'm now imagining Anastasia Tsilimpiou(who plays Kösem's younger self) as Jenn's younger version(during her late teens and early twenties):
I should really get paid for this much advertising.
Anyways, this chapter got really cold, didn't it?
These days I've been really inspired by the screenwriter, Khalil-ur-Rehman Qamar. His scripts are usually made into dramas and you can actually tell that it's him just by listening to the dialogue.
I'm mentioning him because he's known for often leaving hidden hints and foreshadowing in his dialogue, so look out for that when you're reading. Most of my forshadowing is hidden in dialogue. XD
In this chapter, we got to know why Mary and Richard have been so contemptible and how on earth are the Palmers interrelated.
Remember when I asked to note the names starting with Gs in the bonus chapter 'For the First Time'?
The Palmers are what I meant.
I hope you all liked the chapter(also, let me know if I should put a warning above or not. I wasn't quite sure with this chapter).
Here's this week's question:
Your thoughts on Richard and Mary's stance?
Have a great week!
Love,
MS Zame