The Lost Sister, Kathleen McGurl [best desktop ebook reader txt] 📗
- Author: Kathleen McGurl
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‘Well enough? What’s wrong with him?’
Harriet took a deep breath. ‘Davina, there’s some bad news. Poor little Jerome – he’s 6 now, you know – has been diagnosed with leukaemia. Acute lymphoblastic leukaemia, to give it the full name.’
‘Oh no! Poor little thing. How’s Sally taking it?’
‘Badly, as you might imagine. He’s on chemotherapy and sometimes he feels too tired and ill to go to school. But when he’s between cycles he goes back to school, which he loves, and it gives Sally a bit of a break as well.’
‘Must be horrible. God I can’t imagine how I’d cope if Autumn or Summer got something like that. They’re everything to me.’
‘Yes, Jerome’s everything to Sally and Charlie. But we’re praying for the best for him.’
‘Of course.’
There was a moment’s silence, and Harriet let it last, allowing Davina time to absorb the news about Jerome. When she heard Davina sigh, she broke the silence. ‘So, where are you living now, Davina?’
‘Oh, just … in a house.’
‘Whereabouts? Anywhere near me? I’d love to visit, meet my granddaughters …’
‘Ah, no. Too far for you to visit. I’m not in the UK.’
‘Where, then?’
‘Well … France.’
‘Whereabouts in France? I mean, it’s easy to fly to Paris or Nice, or I could drive to one of the Channel ferry ports if you’re in the north …’
‘Just France. Does it matter?’
This was what happened every time, Harriet knew, and yet she still could not stop herself getting angry. ‘Of course it matters, Davina. You’re my daughter, your daughters are my grandchildren, and you’ve never even let me meet them. It’s so unfair! I mean, why can’t you at least phone me weekly, or let me have your number so I can call you. Jerome’s diagnosis came months ago and I’ve only just been able to tell you. He’s your nephew! Why can’t you come over and visit us now and again – not often, I know you like your independence, but would it be too much for you to come a couple of times a year? Even just once a year? Maybe drop the girls off to stay with me for a few days in the summer holidays – all my friends who are grandmothers have the kids to stay. I’d love to be able to take them to the beach, buy them ice creams—’
‘Summer hates ice cream,’ Davina interrupted. ‘The only kid ever to hate ice cream.’
‘You see? I didn’t even know that. I should know that sort of thing about my 8-year-old granddaughter.’ Harriet took a deep shuddering breath. ‘And your dad died without ever meeting them.’
‘Yeah, I’m kind of sorry about that,’ Davina said quietly.
‘So you should be. At this rate I’ll die without meeting them too. Will you bring them over? Or at least call me more often, maybe fortnightly?’
There was a long drawn-out sigh from the other end of the line. ‘Harriet, the reason I don’t call very often is because you always get upset. Like you are now. I find that hard to handle.’
‘I’m only upset because I don’t get to speak to you often enough! If you phoned regularly, I wouldn’t get upset!’
‘Yes, you would. You’d get upset about something else. Me not visiting, perhaps. And if I visited you every year, you’d be upset because I didn’t come every month. And if I came every month you’d be upset because I didn’t live round the corner from you. I can’t win, you see?’ Davina took a deep, shuddering breath. ‘You and Sally – you were always nagging me to do what you wanted. What you expected. Take my A levels, go to university, have a big white wedding and settle down in a semi. I didn’t want all that. I wanted freedom and adventure and to be my own person. But you wouldn’t accept it. Christ you even tried to force me to come home that time. That was unforgivable. Even now you won’t accept me living my own life, the way I want to. That’s why I’m better off keeping my distance.’
Every phone call went this way. Every single time. It was mostly Davina being selfish, but Harriet knew the only way through this was for her to take the blame herself. And to be fair, she wasn’t entirely blameless anyway. ‘All right, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have pushed you. Maybe though, can we compromise? If you promise to ring every two weeks, I’ll promise not to ask for more. At least so I can update you about Jerome.’
‘Three weeks.’
‘You’ll ring every three weeks?’ That was much more often than had recently been the case.
‘If you promise not to nag me for more.’
‘I promise.’ Harriet was relieved – she hadn’t thought for a moment Davina would agree. But maybe her daughter was mellowing, at last. A little. ‘So, tell me a bit about your life at present.’
‘What do you want to know?’
‘Anything you’re happy to share.’ There’s no point asking questions, Harriet wanted to add. Davina would only close up, as she had done when Harriet had tried to find out where she was living.
‘Well, I’ve moved in with James. In France, as I said. He works for an international company. He’s an accountant.’
‘An accountant!’
Davina laughed. ‘Yeah, I know, a bit different to dating a rock musician. He’s nice, though. Good with the girls.’
‘I’m so glad. They need …’ Harriet trailed off, thinking but not wanting to say ‘a father figure’ or ‘a bit of stability’ for fear of upsetting Davina.
‘And the girls are in school, now. No more home-schooling. Didn’t I tell you that last time?’
‘You did, yes. Is it a French school?’
‘International. They are learning French but take most
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