Page 28 of The Inn on Bluebell Lane
After she’d tidied up, Gwen boiled the kettle and slowly made herself a cup of tea, still trying to postpone that moment when she made the call. Then the phone rang, making her heart lurch with the what if that could be on the other end. Taking a few steadying breaths, she answered it, only to have Sarah’s anxious voice strum down the line.
“Mum, I just heard about Matthew. What on earth—?”
Briefly, Gwen closed her eyes. She’d forgotten to tell Sarah about Matthew’s accident and knowing how in-the-know her daughter liked to be, Sarah would be hurt, and would hide it by acting all sniffy and stiff. “I’m so sorry, Sarah. With all the mayhem, it completely slipped my mind to tell you what had happened. I was going to call you last night…”
“I saw John on the way back from the school run, and he said the ceiling had caved in.” Sarah sounded aggrieved. “Is that really true? And Matthew’s had surgery?”
“Yes, on his elbow, but he’s going to be fine.”
“And you didn’t think to tell me any of it?”
“I’m sorry,” Gwen said yet again. She knew how much Sarah liked to be kept in the loop, even if she wasn’t as adept at keeping Gwen abreast of her own family’s news. When her husband, Carl, had changed jobs, Gwen had been one of the last to know. It would have been fine, except that Carl had seemed surprised and a bit hurt when Gwen hadn’t congratulated him. “Like I said,” she continued, keeping her tone mild, “it slipped my mind.”
“I just can’t believe it.” Sarah sounded dazed, which was better, Gwen supposed, than aggrieved.
“I know,” she agreed, “it’s all been rather a shock.”
“But he’s okay? Matthew? You’re okay—?”
Again, that voicemail flickered through Gwen’s mind. “Yes,” she answered firmly. “Yes, we’re all okay. I really am sorry I didn’t tell you.”
“I understand,” Sarah replied, but she still sounded a little hurt. “Anyway, what can I do? I’ll bring a meal over. A lasagna?”
She knew how her daughter liked to be busy, in control, and needed. Of course she would want to do something to help.
“That would be lovely,” she told Sarah. Did Ellie’s children eat lasagna? Gwen hoped so. “Thank you.”
After the call, she took her cup of tea and the phone to the sitting room and sat down in her favorite chair, across from the one David had always sat in. It was so quiet. Even though it had been some months since she’d had any guests, she’d got used to having them around, reading the paper in the chair by the window, or just moving about upstairs. But right now it was only her, and she had nothing left to do to put off making that call.
Gwen put her cup of tea down and picked up the phone. She took a deep breath and then dialed the number of the consultant, her heart starting to thrum in her chest. Within a few seconds, she was connected, and then put on hold, which suited her fine. She could wait. She could wait a long time for the news she was afraid she was going to receive, even if she had to listen to an endless loop of what to do if you had chest pains.
But then, all too soon, she was put through to the consultant, who spoke in a serious tone. “Gwen? It’s Anne Jamison. Thanks for calling. I wanted to speak with you about your biopsy.”
“Yes, thank you.” Gwen’s voice sounded faint.
“I’m afraid the biopsy has had a positive result,” Ms. Jamison said, her voice terribly gentle.
“Positive…” For a second, Gwen’s heart leapt wildly with hope. Positive was a good thing, surely.
“For breast cancer, I mean.”
“Oh. Yes, of course.” It wasn’t a surprise, after receiving the voicemail, and yet at the same time, it was completely a surprise. How could she possibly have cancer? She felt perfectly well. A little tired, yes, but…
Gwen didn’t say anything for a few seconds, and then the consultant continued.
“I know this is difficult news to hear, but it’s really not as dire as you might think. Let’s make an appointment for you to come in, and we can discuss the treatment possibilities. At the moment, I’d recommend a course of chemotherapy followed by radiation, but we can discuss that when you come to hospital, go through it all slowly. Sometimes it helps to have someone come with you.”
“Right.” Briefly, surprisingly, Gwen thought of Ellie. “Thank you.”
“Are you all right?” Ms. Jamison asked. “Is there someone with you now? I know receiving this kind of news can be a shock, but I did want to get it to you as soon as possible, so we could get started on treatment. Breast cancer responds very well to—”
“Yes,” Gwen said, interrupting her because she didn’t think she could take any more information right now. “Thank you.”
A few minutes later, after making an appointment for the following week, Gwen had put the phone down. Her mind was spinning emptily, thoughts too fleeting and strange to catch hold of. She found herself thinking of Matthew and Sarah when they were little, and how she would rock them to sleep, the only sound the creak of her grandmother’s antique rocking chair as she cradled them in her arms, their heads against her shoulder. How long ago it seemed, and yet at the same time so very close. She could still remember the sweet, sleepy smell of them as babies, how she’d brush her lips against their downy heads and breathe them in…
And then she found herself recalling the day of David’s funeral, cold and windy and wet, the weather matching her mood. She remembered the hymns—“All Things Bright and Beautiful” was one—and how she’d sat in the front pew and cloaked herself in a disbelieving numbness, to keep from breaking down. That was how she felt right now—numb. Numb was good. At least, it was the best she could hope for, while this news sank in. While it changed everything…
Gwen was still sitting there, her mind drifting between memories, her tea stone cold and only half drunk, when the front door opened half an hour later.