Alma sees her first.
I glimpse thick chestnut hair as Ana rushes across the room to her mother’s side. They embrace, exchange words thick with emotion. I watch as she kisses Alma’s cheek, her red lips contrasting with her mother’s pasty complexion.
When she lifts her head, I see her eyes. The same warm, chocolate brown as her brother’s.
“Hi. I’m Lisa.”
She presses her lips together and for a moment I think she’ll say nothing. Then, she’s embracing me. Her hair smells like citrus.
“It’s so nice to meet you,” she says, her voice surprisingly deep. When she pulls away, she’s smiling. “Thank you for taking care of my mother. This is so terrible. That you’re here under such bad circumstances.”
I open my mouth, look at Alma. “I didn’t do anything, really. It’s all Seb. But they say she’s doing well. She’ll make a full recovery after the surgery.”
Ana nods, grips my hand. “Yes, I’m very thankful.” She smiles and turns back to her mother. It can’t be easy seeing your loved ones deteriorate. I can’t imagine Eleanor decaying, slipping away. She’ll either be here or she won’t.
“Seb’s just gone to the bathroom,” I say, motioning to the door.
“He should—”
“Hola,” his voice calls from the doorway. I look at Seb’s expression. It’s blank, a thin line where his lips should be. His eyebrows look thicker, close together. Like a frown.
As if in slow motion, he walks over to his sister and gives her a stiff hug. His face barely changes.
If this bothers Ana, she doesn’t show it. “I was just telling Lisa how glad I am that you were here to take care of her.”
“Everything’s fine,” he says. “You didn’t have to come.” Seb speaks in a monotone, looking at Alma, then at the window beyond.
“It’s my mother,” Ana says, eyes wide. “Of course I’m going to be here.”
She shakes her head and looks at me like Seb just told a bad joke.
“Are you staying at the house?” Ana asks, looking at me.
“We are,” Seb says, his arms crossed. They stand side by side, neither looking at the other. It’s only been a minute, but the room’s buzzing, the air thick with tension.
“I’m going to get another coffee,” I say, needing to leave the room. “Anyone want anything?”
Brother and sister decline, both smiling. But they’re tight, forced. I can’t leave the awkwardness fast enough. I walk through the hall, past the cafeteria, down to the hospital’s courtyard. Outside, I sit on a bench opposite a fountain, a stream of water spewing from a fish’s mouth. I take out my phone and dial Ruth’s number.
Relief floods over me as she picks up.
“Hola, señora.”
Her voice is low and there’s background noise, like pans clanging together.
“Hey, is this a bad time?” I say.
“Does it matter?”
There’s a muffled sound, like she’s talking to someone else.
“Can you hear me?” I say, my elbows on my knees, frowning.
“Never mind,” she says. “What’s up?”
“What are you doing?”
“Just off with the boys. Early brunch. Hair of the dog and all that.”
“I remember those,” I say, glancing up at the sky. “They were the best.”
The times we had at uni felt so carefree, so devoid of any worries about the future. About the dangers ahead. Yesterday’s sunsets seem so far away now, a suffocating grey taking their place.
The silence drags, and then Ruth speaks again. “So what’s up?”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, you called me,” she says. “It’s not like I mind the chat, but what’s going on?”
I don’t know where to start, I want to tell her. My fiancé and I aren’t having sex, his mother hates me, she’s fallen down the stairs and his estranged sister’s shown up at the hospital and it’s all so very, very weird.
But I don’t say any of that.
“I know, I’m sorry, it’s been…” I trail off.
“How’s Sebastian?”
The way Ruth says his name takes me back to our evenings together in the flat, drinking cheap wine, smoking cigarettes and dancing like we didn’t have a care in the world.
“His mother had a big fall. She’s at the hospital. We’re here now.”
“Is she alright?”
“Yeah, she’s fine. It’s just a little… it’s… it’s a bit much.”
Silence. I take a breath. “I don’t know. Things are just so different here. And not really in a good way.”
I look to the inside of the hospital, the cafeteria empty apart from a man at the vending machine. “She doesn’t seem to like me much.”
“Did she say that?”
“No, but Seb’s like a translator. We don’t speak if he’s not there. And there was this one day where I cooked and she gave me the wrong spice. It was a whole thing. I don’t really know where—”
“Okay, hold on,” Ruth says. “I have no idea what that means, but take a breath. Just breathe.”
I breathe deeply, the emotion swelling up.
“I love him, but I want… I want to come home.”
“Then come home.”
“What?”
“Lisa, what were you looking for? If you’re fed up, come home. If you’re going to make it work, then stay. I don’t know what else to tell you.”
I stand up, walk towards the shrubs at the corner of the courtyard. My eyes scan their unruly ends, creeping out towards the concrete. “Yeah, maybe.”
Guilt tinges my fingertips, but I brush it away. Not here.
And then the words tumble out.
“There’s so much more to married life than I thought, you know? And we’re not even married yet. Coming here with him was fine, but being in that house with her… I don’t know. It’s not easy.”
Ruth’s voice is softer. “I can imagine. She speaks no English, right?”
“Exactly, and I swear, sometimes I catch her watching Friends on the TV and she’s laughing. Like she understands it.”
“Come on, I doubt that’s true.”
“No really, you should see her.”
“Didn’t this woman just have a fall?”
The shame rises to my cheeks. “Yes, I know that. It’s not her fault, of course, it’s—”
“Then what is it?”
“It’s like she’s going out of her way to make me look bad,” I say, my frustration breaking through. “And she’s constantly talking. It’s like a never-ending flood. I don’t get a word in with Seb because she’s always around. I know she’s old and frail but honestly, she’s insufferable sometimes.”
I turn my eyes away from the sun. But they catch something else. A figure. The same one I saw just minutes ago in the hospital ward.
Ana. Here, in the courtyard.
Looking right at me.