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“I know your work is important, and you can’t just leave a case hanging.” Elda stroked her arm and wore a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

Charlie’s guilt hung in the air. She’d experienced grief first-hand and still knew its aftershocks. Leaving Elda to face Nancy’s decline and Linda’s inertia was heartbreaking. But there was something about being in their family home that was poisonous and unsettling for her, conjuring demons she thought she’d battled long ago. Despite the feeling of selfishness, she needed to breathe fresh air and pick up the pace for a few days before returning, refreshed, to be by Elda’s side.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Elda sniffed her own armpit. She wasn’t sure whether it was her who’d started to smell or the house. She was running on oven chips and sugary tea. Her teeth were furry, and she couldn’t remember the last time she’d showered. The doorbell made her jump, and she dragged herself to open the door to another blue uniform.

“Hello, there. I’m Shirley, the district nurse,” she said and smiled. “Where are we heading?”

Elda clapped her hands to her cheeks to wake herself up. Shirley seemed nice enough. “I’m Elda, Nancy’s granddaughter. She’s through here.” Elda led Shirley through the short hallway and steeled herself to repeat their tale.

“Are you the primary carer, love?”

“Yeah. My mum’s been unwell herself. She’s in bed.” She wasn’t sure why she defended her.

“Is Nancy on any medication, my lovely?” Shirley’s tone was like a warm hug.

“The doctor has taken her off most of it now. She has some morphine in the morning and at night.”

They went into her nan’s bedroom, where she’d shrunk further into the mattress. Shirley lifted her arm to take a pulse, and her thin skin sagged off the bone. Elda couldn’t stomach it and studied Shirley’s face. Blue eyeshadow was smeared across both eyelids, like she’d done it in the dark.

“Are you doing okay, on your own?” Shirley asked.

No, I’m not. I’m twenty-five years old caring for my dying grandmother and my pain-in-the-ass mother.She hadn’t slept properly for a fortnight, and everything was fuzzy. “You’ve got to keep going, haven’t you?” Elda said. “Would you like a cup of tea?” If only tea fixed everything like it was supposed to.

“That’d be a dream. I haven’t stopped all morning.”

Elda moved into the kitchen and after a few moments, Shirley followed.

“It’s the worst bit, this, Elda. But it’s also time when you get to say the things you need to…before someone goes,” Shirley said quietly.

Elda knew, in the pit of her stomach, that they were on the final countdown. Her shoulders ached with the burden. “What do you think will happen?” She locked eyes with Shirley, sensing that she might be the only person who would tell her the truth.

“From what I can see, Nancy is quite near the end of her life, bless her. She’s doing a lot more sleeping, isn’t she? Well, that might mean things are starting to shut down. The body starts to prioritise what it keeps going.”

Elda’s thoughts were spinning, and she was grateful for the brief silence Shirley left.

“We’ll need to focus on keeping her comfy, warm, and with enough morphine. It’ll make her sleep, but that’s for the best at this stage.”

Her mum appeared at the door, her grey hair thick with grease and sleep. She reeked of booze. Elda wished she’d stayed out of sight.

“How long will it take?” her mum asked in a harsh croak.

“I don’t know, love,” Shirley said. “It could be a few days. Or she might rally for a bit. She’s going to need you both around her though, and you’ll want to say goodbye.”

“Bloody perfect timing, all this.”

Who was her mum angry at this time? Her nan for dying, or herself for not being strong enough to cope?

Shirley smiled and took her mum’s hand. “It’s okay to be angry about losing your mum, love.”

“Well, at least we’re in it together, eh?”

Elda looked to the floor. They were anything but united in this.

“You must be very busy.” Elda blinked away the shame and smiled at Shirley. “Will you come again tonight?” She thought about the sea of faces she’d opened the door to and wanted Shirley’s to be the one she remembered.

“No, not me. Listen, don’t try and do everything on your own. You’ll make yourself ill and then where will everyone be?” Her eyes wrinkled as she laughed and collected her bags.