‘That is the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard!’
‘I know it sounds a bit odd, but Granny wants…’
‘Seriously, Mum, listen to me. You cannot go ahead with this trip!’
Lily sighed; she knew it was a mistake to answer when she saw Eleanor’s number come up on her phone. She had got into work late and they were one member of staff down at the garden centre today, so Lily was way behind with the usual morning tasks. Luckily, because it was October, there was no watering to be done, but there were numerous other jobs needing her attention. Everyone working at Beautiful Blooms had to do a stint outdoors; during the summer months, the staff fought for the chance to be outside rather than stuck behind a till or sorting through deliveries in the warehouse. But at this time of year, it was a different story. This morning it was Lily’s turn to be out in the grounds; the sky was molten grey, the wind was bitter against her cheeks and it had started to drizzle.
She switched the phone to her other hand and began dragging netting across a row of redcurrant bushes. ‘Darling, I’m sorry but I’m at work, so I can’t really talk. Can I call you back later?’
‘No, we need to discuss this right now,’ Eleanor snapped. ‘You cannot seriously be intending to take Granny on this stupid holiday? She’s not up to it, physically or mentally.’
Lily could hear a tapping in the background as her daughter spoke, and guessed she was on her laptop sending an email. Eleanor never seemed to do just one thing at a time, she took multi-tasking to a whole new level. Even when she dropped in at the house to see Lily – which admittedly didn’t happen very often nowadays – she would be talking while simultaneously texting a friend, drinking a cup of coffee (a takeout she’d brought with her – she always said Lily made disgusting coffee), reapplying her eye make-up and sorting through the contents of her enormous Louis Vuitton handbag. Lily knew she ought to be full of admiration for this energetic, capable daughter of hers. But most of the time, she just felt like slapping her.
‘Granny isn’t as frail as you make out,’ Lily said. ‘She’s got some issues with her memory, and she gets confused, but she’s pretty healthy for her age. We walked all the way down to Hove and back the other weekend.’
‘But she’s going doolally!’ Eleanor exclaimed.
‘That’s an exaggeration…’ Lily balanced her mobile under her chin as she tugged at the netting with both hands, cursing under her breath as it snagged on the thorny branches of the redcurrants.
‘She is losing the plot! You know that as well as I do, Mum. Taking her off around the country like this would send you up the wall, and she’d probably do something crazy.’
‘I think you’re being unfair.’
‘I’m not. I’m being realistic,’ said Eleanor. ‘What’s this book of hers about, anyway? It’s the first I’ve heard of it. Is it an autobiography? To be brutally honest, I can’t imagine why Granny thinks anyone would want to read about her life, it hasn’t been that spectacular.’
‘Oh, Eleanor, how unkind!’ Lily let go of the netting and stood up straight, grabbing her phone again with one hand and putting the other on her hip, glaring at the slatted fencing in front of her, as if her daughter’s face was being projected onto it. ‘Granny has had a very interesting life, but you just don’t know much about it. She’s doing this book for me and you, so we’ll have something to remember her by, which is wonderful.’
‘So, you knew she was writing it then?’
‘Yes, of course I did,’ Lily lied. ‘She has told me all about it, and I think it’s a great idea. The consultant agreed – he was very keen on it. He says the book and the trip will be good for Granny, and it will also help with her cognitive abilities.’
‘He’s not the one having to take her halfway across the country in a rusty old van,’ Eleanor said.
‘It’s not rusty! Well, not all of it.’
‘Anyway, you know I’m right. You cannot take Granny on any kind of holiday or journey of self-discovery or whatever she’s calling it…’
‘It’s a road trip.’
‘For God’s sake, Mum, you’re not Thelma and Louise!’
After they got back from their visit to the clinic, Lily had made Moira a cup of tea, sat her down and tried to persuade her there was no way they could make this trip together. She’d pointed out it would be physically draining and Moira would be uncomfortable sitting for long periods in the passenger seat of the campervan. She’d mentioned they were short-staffed at work, which meant it might be awkward for her to ask Gordon, her boss, for time off. She’d suggested that some of the places on Moira’s list might not be the same anymore – she was talking about revisiting areas she hadn’t seen for more than forty years, so there were bound to have been some major changes, which she wouldn’t necessarily be happy to see. Lily had also hinted, as gently as she could, that Moira might find it a struggle, mentally, that her increasingly frequent incidents of memory loss and confusion needed to be taken seriously and she ought not to be putting herself under too much pressure. It wasn’t the easiest subject to broach, and several times Moira had turned away and started talking about something completely different.
If Lily was honest with herself, she wasn’t just reluctant to take her mother away because she was increasingly frail and confused. She was also embarrassed about Moira’s erratic, unpredictable behaviour and newly acquired swearing habit. She’d read that the use of foul language wasn’t unusual in people who were suffering from dementia, but it was hard to come to terms with; her mother never used to swear and everything Lily had read suggested it was a sign the disease was progressing. It wasn’t Moira’s fault, but nor was it easy being in sole charge of a potty-mouthed seventy-nine-year-old woman. So, when discussing any possible outing – let alone a long journey around the country – Lily felt all these things needed to be taken into consideration.
With that in mind, she had brought them up with Moira as tenderly and sensitively as she could.
‘Bollocks to all that, my darling!’ Moira had said, cheerfully. ‘We’re going on a road trip.’
‘We’ll see,’ Lily had sighed. She’d let it drop, for the time being. But she’d had every intention of knocking this whole thing on the head. It was a bad idea and it would be hard work. She didn’t need the hassle.
But that was before she’d had this conversation with Eleanor, her bossy, dogmatic daughter, who invariably thought she knew better than everyone else and managed to make Lily feel that, somewhere along the line, she’d failed as a mother. Eleanor had always been more assertive than anyone else Lily had known, and stubborn should have been her middle name. When it came to a battle of wills, from the age of about two, she won every time. In some ways, nothing had changed: at twenty-six, Eleanor still had the ability to make Lily feel she didn’t know what she was talking about and was possibly a bit stupid.
‘So, you need to tell Granny this trip is not happening,’ Eleanor was saying. ‘Don’t be your usual self about this, Mum. Have some backbone, stand up to Granny and let her know who’s in charge.’
Eleanor didn’t need to say the words weak and pathetic; Lily was aware they were in her head. That did it.
‘Actually, Eleanor, I’ve decided we’re definitely going on this little trip. I’m as keen on the idea as Granny is, and I think it will be fantastic – a real adventure. She will write her book and I’ll get to spend some quality time with her and have a break from work – which will be no bad thing, because it’s been pretty full on recently. We’re setting off this weekend. It’s all arranged.’
There was a sharp intake of breath on the other end of the phone and Eleanor was temporarily – and most unusually – speechless. Lily could hear the garden centre phone ringing in the office and wondered if anyone else was going to answer it. ‘I’ve got to go, sweetheart. Have a good day.’ She pressed the button to end the call, shoved her mobile back into her pocket and began to walk across the yard. The delight she’d felt at getting one over on her daughter was already fading rapidly. God, what had she got herself into?