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Back Familiar Strangers Save as PDF
Chapters (71)
  1. Cover
  2. Dedication
  3. Prologue
  4. Chapter One
  5. Chapter Two
  6. Chapter Three
  7. Chapter Four
  8. Chapter Five
  9. Chapter Six
  10. Chapter Seven
  11. Chapter Eight
  12. Chapter Nine
  13. Chapter Ten
  14. Chapter Eleven
  15. Chapter Twelve
  16. Chapter Thirteen
  17. Chapter Fourteen
  18. Chapter Fifteen
  19. Chapter Sixteen
  20. Chapter Seventeen
  21. Chapter Eighteen
  22. Chapter Nineteen
  23. Chapter Twenty
  24. Chapter Twenty-One
  25. Chapter Twenty-Two
  26. Chapter Twenty-Three
  27. Chapter Twenty-Four
  28. Chapter Twenty-Five
  29. Chapter Twenty-Six
  30. Chapter Twenty-Seven
  31. Chapter Twenty-Eight
  32. Chapter Twenty-Nine
  33. Chapter Thirty
  34. Chapter Thirty-One
  35. Chapter Thirty-Two
  36. Chapter Thirty-Three
  37. Chapter Thirty-Four
  38. Chapter Thirty-Five
  39. Chapter Thirty-Six
  40. Chapter Thirty-Seven
  41. Chapter Thirty-Eight
  42. Chapter Thirty-Nine
  43. Chapter Forty
  44. Chapter Forty-One
  45. Chapter Forty-Two
  46. Chapter Forty-Three
  47. Chapter Forty-Four
  48. Chapter Forty-Five
  49. Chapter Forty-Six
  50. Chapter Forty-Seven
  51. Chapter Forty-Eight
  52. Chapter Forty-Nine
  53. Chapter Fifty
  54. Chapter Fifty-One
  55. Chapter Fifty-Two
  56. Chapter Fifty-Three
  57. Chapter Fifty-Four
  58. Chapter Fifty-Five
  59. Chapter Fifty-Six
  60. Chapter Fifty-Seven
  61. Chapter Fifty-Eight
  62. Chapter Fifty-Nine
  63. Chapter Sixty
  64. Chapter Sixty-One
  65. Chapter Sixty-Two
  66. Chapter Sixty-Three
  67. Chapter Sixty-Four
  68. A Letter from Jackie
  69. Acknowledgements
  70. About the Author
  71. Also by Jackie Walsh

But Jeff doesn’t call, Bert does. Edith has been taken into hospital.

Chapter Seventeen

Bert is holding Edith’s hand. Edith is holding Bert’s heart. I’m holding back the tears. I hate this part. This part of life: death. The part when everything enjoyed, or hoped to be enjoyed, loses its value. The ‘what’s it all about’ feeling. I wonder about it, too often maybe… the power of loss.

Bert puts his lips close to Edith’s ear.

‘Rebecca is here, Edi. She’s come to see you.’ His tortured eyes turn to mine. ‘I don’t even know if she knows I’m here,’ he says.

‘She knows you’re here, Bert,’ I say, even though I have no idea if Edith knows Bert is here or not. It doesn’t matter; lots of truths no longer matter. Edith is on her way out and Bert is going to have to hang around a bit longer in this world alone.

It’s important that he thinks Edith can hear him. It matters that he gets to tell Edith a million times how much he loves her, how much he has loved her, how much of his world was built by her and how happy he is that it was.

I place my hand on Bert’s shoulder and feel the bones, a carcass beneath his sweater. His face has shrunk, sucked in like all the fat has melted and only the skin remains. Bert looks sicker than Edith. That can happen to people; one big shock can literally drain the life out of them. I saw it happen to Dad when he walked out of the hospital the day Mom’s diagnosis was confirmed.

I was living in a different part of the city at the time, not far from the hospital. Dad rang and asked me to meet him there. I didn’t rush, presuming he was looking to kill some time while he waited on Mom to finish more tests. I didn’t know he had just been told his world was about to change forever.

I remember being annoyed at getting damp in a light shower of rain as I made my way towards the sliding doors at the hospital entrance, the doors that opened and closed, opened and closed. People were going in, anxious about what they would discover today. People were leaving, some happy, others not giving anything away. Then I saw Dad standing to one side in the lobby. He was giving everything away. His whole shape had changed, it was as if he’d been squeezed by a giant hand. I rushed towards him as slowly as I could.

Back in Edith’s room, Bert is sitting on the only chair, so I hunker down by his side.

‘Can I get you anything, Bert? Some water, a cup of coffee?’