MARTHA HAD DRIVEN up to West Hartford to say goodbye to Thea. She was surprised to see her using a walking frame, standing among a rich border of pinks and lavender.
‘I can’t do it for too long,’ Thea joked, showing off, ‘but at least I’m on my feet for a few minutes every day.’
She listened carefully as Martha told her about going to Ireland and not really knowing when she’d come back. ‘Lord, I’m sure going to miss you,’ she smiled.
‘My kids think I’m running away,’ admitted Martha. ‘They don’t see that I’ve got to make changes for all our sakes.’
‘Are you happy about it?’ asked Thea, the first person to enquire about her own happiness. Why, she had barely thought about it! Martha looked around the haven of peace that Thea had created for herself and her family, wishing for something similar.
‘Yeah, I guess I am!’ she smiled.
Martha went into the bedroom, helping Thea to lie down flat as for the last time she laid her hands on her. Martha could feel her fingers vibrate as she worked from chakra to chakra, and concentrated energy and light on the dark spots. Thea’s life force was stronger even than on her last visit, and Martha could feel her body fighting back against the illness that had almost destroyed it.
Back outside they watched as Erik and the boys kicked a football down the bottom of the garden, the boys shouting and screaming at each other when anyone tried to score a goal.
‘Thea, I’m sorry. I feel so guilty about going away and leaving you.’
‘Martha, don’t be! I should be dead by now by my doctor’s reckoning, and yet because of you I’m here. Watching my sons play in the sunlight for another while. Each hour, each day, each week is precious to me and that’s what you’ve given me.’
‘I feel your body is trying to fight back against the cancer,’ said Martha, ‘but you need to take it easier so you don’t tire and weaken yourself, and let the body gradually heal and renew itself. Promise!’
‘I promise,’ smiled Thea as they both said goodbye.
Martha had all the tickets and passports to hand, the bags packed and ready to go in the hall. Alice’s backpack was stuffed with such an assortment of teddies and toys that Martha hoped it wouldn’t burst on the way.
Mary Rose was playing the drama queen, having loud conversations with her girlfriends, bitching about going away and how boring it was going to be.
Dan Kendrick had come to visit her the weekend before, the two of them doing nothing but talking and walking, grabbing a quick bite to eat before going back to his hotel room to make love.
‘Martha, you know it’s bad enough for me to have to fly halfway across the States just to see you, without you adding another six hours’ flying time on to it!’
She was going to miss him so much it didn’t bear thinking about. He’d made his position clear, telling her exactly how he felt about her and what he wanted from their relationship. Martha was the one needing time to think.
She’d said goodbye to Evie the night before, the two of them staying up till late, trying to make sense of all that had happened and wondering what the future might bring. Martha knew that the friendship between them would never change, no matter what, or no matter where they were in the world!
She checked the tickets one more time. Mike was driving them to the airport, and was minding the house while they were away. Arriving late he had to throw the bags in the back of the car and put this foot down to get them to Logan’s busy departure terminal, then helped to carry their luggage and get the three of them checked in for their transatlantic flight. Alice clung to her dad like a little monkey as they said goodbye, with Mike and Patrick promising to behave and take care of each other as they walked them to the gateway.
Martha swallowed hard, hoping she was making the right choice as she boarded the Aer Lingus flight to Ireland, the familiar green shamrock painted on the side of the aircraft and the air hostesses in their green uniforms bringing back a rush of memories of her and her brothers, like a load of jack-in-the-boxes, going home to visit with their parents. Martha had to pretend to read the in-flight magazine as she tried to control her emotions.
Lara was in the office checking layouts when the phone rang. It was her sister, sounding hysterical. Lara tried to make some sense of what she was trying to tell her.
‘Ben’s in hospital!’
‘What?’
‘He was sick yesterday and when his room-mate went to wake him for college this morning he realized he was really bad. He’s here in Mass General Hospital, Lara, and they say he’s got some form of meningitis.’
Lara rapidly went through a mental list of what she knew of the disease, her mind numbed with a desperate sense of foreboding.
‘He’s unconscious!’ sobbed her sister. ‘They said they’re doing everything but his kidney and liver are failing.’
Lara automatically switched off her computer and threw the files she was working on into the desk, grabbing her jacket off the chair, racing out through the newsroom and towards the elevator.
In the car, her brain began to function again and she flicked through her Filofax, pounding the number she wanted into her cellphone. Two, three times she called, but there was no response. Dread crawled through her veins as she drove, Boston’s traffic moving at a snail’s pace along the network of city streets as she cursed the roadworks and the excavations of the Big Dig. She remembered the small craft store in Easton, frantically trying to conjure up its name as she hit the button for directory enquiries, the operator putting her straight through.
‘Hello, is Martha McGill there?’ she enquired.
‘Sorry, who’s calling?’
‘Is Martha there? Listen, we’ve met before and I really need to speak to her right now.’
‘I’m sorry, Martha’s not here.’
‘When will she be back? I’ve left messages on her machine at home. It’s urgent!’
‘I’m sorry, but Martha doesn’t work here any more. She’s gone away.’
‘Gone away! When will she be back?’ she demanded.
‘Who is that?’
‘It’s Lara Chadwick,’ she said, embarrassed. ‘I’m a journalist.’
‘I know who you are,’ said the voice on the other end of the line. ‘Martha’s left Boston, and has moved away for a few months, and to be honest, I’ve absolutely no idea when she intends coming back.’
‘Do you have a number where I can reach her?’
‘No!’ replied Evie Hayes. ‘Martha and her family are living overseas. I’m sorry, but I can’t help you.’
Lara clenched the steering wheel, thinking of her nephew and his fight for life and how fate had decided she would be the one not only to meet the worker of miracles, his possible saviour, but also to drive her away.