Cecelia Ahern - The Book of Tomorrow

‘Where are you going?’

‘To my mum’s room,’ I said as politely as possible.

‘Oh, you won’t want to disturb her, Tamara,’ she said with a smile to me and a little frown to Dr Gedad, hinting to him as though I was some kind of weirdo. ‘You know how important her sleep is to her.’ She looked at the doctor. ‘She hasn’t been sleeping much, which is understandable, of course, under the circumstances.’

‘Of course,’ he nodded gravely. He looked at me then. ‘Well, perhaps I should let her have her rest. I can come back another time.’

‘No!’ I interjected. ‘Rosaleen she’s been sleeping non-stop most days for the past week.’ I couldn’t control my voice, shrieking like a squeaky violin.

‘Because of her restless nights, of course,’ Rosaleen said firmly. ‘Won’t you have a cup of tea, Doctor? You wouldn’t believe it but it seems I used salt in the baking rather than sugar. My mother almost fell over,’ she laughed. ‘Though she shouldn’t have been having pie for breakfast, I know that,’ she said apologetically.

‘How is your mother?’ he asked. ‘I hear that she’s unwell.’

‘I’ll tell you over a cup of tea,’ she said chirpily, and he laughed and made his way back down the stairs again. ‘You’re a difficult woman to say no to Rosaleen.’

I stood on the stairs, my mouth agape at what was occurring. I had read it but didn’t believe that the doctor would so easily obey her when an apparently sick patient was upstairs.

‘I’ll just give your mother a little more rest, Tamara,’ Dr Gedad said, ‘and then I’ll see to her.’

‘Okay,’ I whispered, trying to hold back my tears, because I knew that whatever Rosaleen was going to say to Dr Gedad, he wouldn’t make it up those stairs. Despite knowing the outcome, I tried to join them in the kitchen but Rosaleen stopped me at the door.

‘If you don’t mind, Tamara, I’m going to have a few private words with the doctor about my mother. Just to make sure everything’s okay. She’s been slightly off for the last few days.’

I gulped, initially guilty that my visit to her had made her worse but as soon as the guilt arrived, it disappeared and the anger returned. I really didn’t care about her mother, I was so angry about her taking the doctor from Mum.

‘Yes, of course I understand, Rosaleen. I was just trying to do exactly the same thing for my own mother,’ I replied bitchily. I turned my back on her before she had a chance to respond and I stormed upstairs. I heard the door close and I went into Mum’s room. She was still asleep, curled in a ball as though still in the womb.

‘Mum,’ I whispered gently, falling to my knees and pushing back her hair.

She groaned.

‘Mum, wake up.’

Her eyes fluttered open.

‘Mum, I need you to get up. I called a doctor for you. He’s downstairs but I need you to go down to him, or else call him. Please, do that for me?’

She groaned and closed her eyes again.

‘Mum, listen, this is important. He’ll help you get better.’

She opened her eyes again. ‘No,’ she croaked.

‘I know, Mum, I know you miss Dad more than anything else in the world. I know you loved him so much, and you probably think that nothing in the whole world can ever make you feel better, but it can get better and it will get better.’

She closed her eyes again.

‘Mum, please,’ I whispered, tears welling. ‘I need you to do this for me.’

Mum’s breathing was slow and deep again as she fell back asleep. I kneeled beside her, crying.

Below the bedroom, I heard Dr Gedad and Rosaleen’s muffled conversation. Then the kitchen door opened and I wiped my tears away and shook Mum again to wake her.

‘Okay Mum, he’s coming. All you have to do is go as far as your door. That’s all, no further.’

She looked alarmed, seeing as I’d just woken her.

‘Please, Mum.’

She seemed confused. I swore and left her side to run downstairs just as Rosaleen was opening the front door.

‘Ah, Tamara, I had a few words with Rosaleen and I think it’s best that I leave your mum for the time being and return again if she needs me. If you feel any need to call, here’s my card.’

‘But I called so you’d see her today.’

‘I know, but after speaking with Rosaleen I realise that it is not necessary. There’s really nothing to worry about. Your mother is indeed going through a difficult time but there is little cause for you to worry so much for her health. I’m sure she’d just want you to relax and have a clear mind,’ he said in a fatherly tone.

‘But you haven’t even seen her,’ I said, angrily.

‘Tamara…’ Rosaleen had a warning in her voice.

Dr Gedad looked uncomfortable, then uncertain about his decision. What reason had he not to trust Rosaleen, I could see him asking himself. Rosaleen could too, and she moved quickly.

‘Thank you so much for calling around, Doctor,’ she said gently. ‘Please pass on my regards to Maureen and your boy…’

‘Weseley,’ he said. ‘Thank you. And thank you for the tea and buns. I did not taste a bit of salt in it.’

‘Oh, no, that was in the apple tart.’ She laughed like a child.

And he was gone. She closed the door and turned to face me but I marched past her to the front door, opened it and slammed it loudly behind me. I charged up the road. Outside the air was warm and smelled sweet with cut grass and cow manure. I could hear Arthur’s lawnmower in the distance, the noise of the engine blocking the reality for Arthur as he concentrated on remedial tasks. I spotted Sister Ignatius to my left in the far distance on the other side of the grounds; a navy and white thing in the middle of green. I ran to her, the anger rushing through my blood like a Soda-Stream. She had set up an easel and stool in the middle of the grasslands in front of the castle, which was a quarter of a mile away, and she stood directly in front of one of the swan lakes, in the shade of a giant oak tree. The morning was already hot, the sky perfectly indigo without a cloud visible. She must have been concentrating intently, her head close to the page, her tongue moving around her lips as she moved the brush around.

‘I hate her,’ I shouted, breaking the silence and sending a flock of birds up from a nearby tree into the sky where they tried to regroup and relocate. I stomped across the scorched grass in my flip-flops.

Sister Ignatius didn’t look up as I neared. ‘Good morning, Tamara,’ she said brightly. ‘Another lovely morning.’

‘I hate her,’ I said louder, coming close, my voice still raised.

She looked at me then, eyes wide in panic. She shook her head quickly, and waved her arms about as if she was in the middle of a railway track trying to stop an oncoming train.

‘Yes, that’s right, hate her,’ I kept shouting.

She put her finger in front of her lip, jiggling around like she needed to go to the toilet.

‘She is Satan’s spawn,’ I spat.

‘Oh Tamara!’ she finally exploded, and threw her hands up in the air, looking distraught.

‘What? I don’t care what he thinks. I want him to strike me down. Get me out of here, God, I’m fed up and I want to go home,’ I whinged in frustration, then fell back onto the grass. I lay on my back and looked up at the sky. ‘That cloud looks like a penis.’

‘Oh, Tamara, would you stop it,’ she snapped.

‘Why, do I offend you?’ I asked sarcastically, just wanting to hurt absolutely everybody I came into contact with, no matter how good and gentle they were.

‘No! You chased off the squirrel,’ she said, the most frustrated I’d ever seen her. I sat up, shocked, and listened to her long vehement speech. ‘I’ve been trying to get him all week. I laid out some treats on a plate and finally got him-he didn’t want nuts so all those stories about a squirrel and its nuts need to be changed. He wouldn’t touch the cheese, but he loves the Toffee Pops, would you believe. But now look, he’s gone and he’ll never come back and Sister Conceptua will eat me alive for taking her Toffee Pops. I think you and your dramatics gave him a heart attack,’ she sighed, calmed, then turned to me. ‘You hate who? Rosaleen, I suppose.’