the air, but she’d watched the wrong plane?
No matter how angry she was with Edward, Anneliese realised that she felt even angrier with herself. She hadn’t seen what was happening and she couldn’t forgive herself for that.
It was no good: she couldn’t face seeing Izzie again and seeing the shock on her face, not when she felt this close to screaming. She’d come back to spend time with Lily later. Better to go home and have Izzie briefly wonder where she’d gone, than to fall apart in front of her niece.
At home, she could give in and take one of the tranquillisers she had left over from years ago. There were a few left in a small bottle in her bedside table, enough to do her until she went to the doctor. There was no point putting that off, either. She’d fought it, determined not to have to go back on bloody antidepressants again, because taking them felt like such a sign of failure. But the time had come for the big guns: if Dr Whelan had something to take away the grim darkness in her head, then she needed it. Lots of it. Otherwise, who knew what might happen?
It was seven that evening when she returned to the hospital, in a state of tranquilliser-induced calm. She hoped that Izzie’s jet-lag meant she’d have left and returned home to her father by then, but even if she hadn’t, Anneliese could cope.
It was amazing how one little tablet could make her feel better. Well, not so much better, but calmer. As if she was on a tiny lifeboat in the middle of a huge, deep ocean, and with the little tablet inside her, she didn’t need to look over the edge of the boat to see the vast inky blueness beneath her. It was still there, she knew that. But she didn’t need to look at it. She could exist and not look, which was much nicer than forcing herself to stare at it and feel the anxiety flooding in.
The hospital was busy with visitors rushing to and fro, carrying flowers, bottles of mineral water and magazines in to their loved ones. Anneliese smiled at them all serenely. People were so kind, really.
When she got to Lily’s ward, she was surprised to see a woman sitting by Lily’s bed, holding her hand. It wasn’t Izzie: it was a younger woman, perhaps late twenties, and she had long streaked blonde hair piled on top of her head in an untidy knot, and wore the loose trousers and thonged shoes that Anneliese always associated with students on gap years in Thailand.
‘Hello,’ she said curiously.
‘Oh, hello.’ The girl leapt to her feet and her lightly tanned face looked anxious.
‘I’m Anneliese, a relative of Lily’s.’
‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude. I’m Jodi, I’m not a friend or anything.’
Anneliese blinked at her in surprise. The girl’s freckles looked Irish but her accent was pure Australian.
‘I never actually met Mrs Shanahan, but we talked on the phone. I came to visit her because I feel…’ She bit her lip. ‘I feel responsible.’
Anneliese stared at her, taking in the friendly, open face. She hoped the tranquilliser wasn’t making her stupid, but this didn’t make sense.
‘How?’
‘I phoned her, you see,’ Jodi went on, even more anxious now, ‘asking her about the history of Rathnaree, and she said she’d meet me, and Yvonne, who’s my next-door neighbour, says Mrs Shanahan hasn’t been to Rathnaree in years but I still asked her and then she has a stroke, and it’s all my fault!’
‘You poor thing,’ said Anneliese. ‘Don’t be silly. It’s not your fault.’
‘You don’t understand – it is!’ insisted Jodi. ‘She’s an old lady and I knew I should have talked to somebody else about it. I upset her, I must have, because one day I’m talking to her on the phone arranging to come and see her, and the next, Yvonne tells me she’s in here in a coma.’
‘You didn’t cause the stroke,’ Anneliese soothed. ‘You clearly didn’t know my aunt. Lily could cope with just about any bit of news you cared to throw at her and the fact that she’s an old lady doesn’t matter a whit. She’s young on the inside and she has the most open mind of anyone I ever met. If she didn’t want to see you or if you upset her, she’d have said, I’m sure of it. Tell me, what particularly did you want to research?’ Anneliese asked curiously.
‘All about Rathnaree House. I found this photograph, you see, and I mentioned it to her…’
‘Was there anybody called Jamie in it?’ Anneliese asked.
‘No, I’ve only got the name of one person, a Lady Irene. Why?’
‘The thing is, Lily hasn’t been conscious since her stroke, except for one moment when she called out “Jamie”. None of us knows of any Jamie in her life and, well, her son-in-law thinks it might be important. Now that you tell me you were talking to her about the past, it makes sense that she was thinking about it. He might be someone connected to when her parents worked in Rathnaree.’
‘I could try and find out,’ said Jodi. ‘I mean, if you want me to, if it’s not being intrusive. It’s just that…’ She stopped.
‘That would be great,’ Anneliese said. ‘I think Izzie, my niece, and her dad would like to know who Jamie was.’
‘Oh Izzie, she’s the one from New York,’ said Jodi excitedly. ‘Yvonne told me all about her. It sounds so exciting.’
‘Yeah, it is,’ said Anneliese, who thought she would never find anything exciting ever again. But then, excitement was overrated. Calm was nicer. ‘The thing is,’ she added, ‘the doctors don’t know if what Lily is saying is important or what it is. I suppose it’s like dreams, nobody knows what they mean. So it might be useful to know who Jamie is, and then again it might mean nothing.’
‘But it could put all the puzzle together and let her go happy,’ said Jodi.
Anneliese looked at this eager Australian girl with the kind eyes and open heart. To Jodi, it was very simple. Lily was probably going to die and the best thing to do for her was to put all the pieces of the puzzle in place so that she could go happily, with her life sorted out. And of course, Anneliese thought bitterly, nobody’s life was ever sorted out.
If she died right now, nobody would be able to put her pieces back together, or if they did, it would look like a pretty weird jigsaw puzzle.
In her pharmaceutically induced calm, she felt able to look at her life from a distance and see how out of control it suddenly was.
‘We could check the local records and the census,’ Jodi said, enthusiastically. ‘I did some historical research and archaeology modules in college and I know how to research correctly. It’s fascinating once you get into it. I feel there is so much history here, so much to be told. Would Mrs Shanahan like that, do you think?’
Anneliese considered it. Normally, she felt as if she had the answer to most questions, but right now, she had no clue what Lily would want her to do – if Lily would like the past gently opened up and examined, or if she would prefer it left alone, all neatly and mysteriously packaged up. None of them had ever heard of this Jamie person, so perhaps Lily had her secrets after all.
Perhaps Izzie would like this man tracked down. Izzie had a closer claim on Lily than she did. Yes, that made sense: Izzie could make the decision. Anneliese was fed up making decisions. All the ones
