little plastic cups, was singing her heart out. I couldn’t help but smile as I joined in the chorus, the scene reminiscent of something out of One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest.
‘Why don’t you join in with your song?’ I teased Thomas, as he looked increasingly uncomfortable.
‘Now would be a good time to go,’ he said, smiling and rolling his eyes. ‘We’re going to head off now, Mum,’ he said over the din.
Suddenly her eyes narrowed as she looked at him. ‘Who are you?’ she said, abruptly. ‘What do you want?’
‘Mum, it’s me,’ he said as he knelt down in front of her, taking her hand in his.
‘Get away from me,’ she shouted, physically pushing herself back in her chair. ‘Nurse, nurse, help. Somebody help me.’
Her panic was increasing with every syllable and I moved out of the way as two uniformed nurses rushed towards her.
‘It’s okay, Joyce,’ one of them said as they restrained her. ‘You’re safe.’
‘But he’s here, he’s here.’ She was screaming, her hands shaking as her arms flailed.
‘You should go,’ one of them said, turning to us.
I couldn’t stop tears springing to my eyes, my confusion seemingly akin to Joyce’s own.
‘We need to calm her down,’ the nurse said. ‘It would be better if you went.’
She was still screaming, ‘He’s here, he’s here,’ as we quickly walked away down the corridor.
22
‘I’m sorry about that,’ Thomas said as we drove away from the care home. His jaw was twitching involuntarily, making him look like he was struggling to contain his true feelings.
‘Are you okay?’ I asked.
He bit down on his lip and turned away. ‘It’s so difficult to see her like that,’ he said. ‘She was such a different woman when . . .’ His voice cracked. ‘When she was my mum.’
I put my hand over his, resting on the automatic gearbox. There was nothing I could say, even if I could get past the lump that was lodged in my throat.
‘She was incredible,’ he choked. ‘She was the woman who remembered everybody’s birthday and had a card and the perfect present wrapped and ready the day before. She was the wife who turned heads whenever she walked into a room, on the arm of her proud husband. She was the mother who stayed up all night to make me a Gremlin costume, only to get to school the next morning to find that it wasn’t fancy dress until the following week!’
I sensed an uplift in his tone. ‘I trust she took you home to change?’
He shook his head and smiled. ‘No, she figured it would do me good – make me more aware. It was the hardest lesson I’ve ever had to learn – imagine sitting there, amongst my uniformed friends, wrapped in fur with huge cardboard bat wings for ears. I’ve never got my days muddled up again.’
‘I was speaking to my mum this morning,’ I said. ‘I don’t know if it’s of any interest, but she’s got some cognac, whisky and a few bottles of wine that she said you could take a look at – you know, if you’re free sometime . . .’
‘Seriously?’ he asked, his eyes widening.
‘Yes, maybe we can pop over there, when you next come down.’
‘Why don’t we go now?’ he asked, excitedly. ‘She doesn’t live too far away, does she? Will she be home?’
‘Well . . . yes, probably, but I don’t think . . .’ I started, as I struggled to comprehend how we’d gone from the disappointment of him not meeting my friends, to now, me meeting his mother and the possibility of him meeting mine. Things were moving at a whippet’s pace and it thrilled and terrified me in equal measure.
‘Why don’t we pop into Maria and Jimmy’s instead?’ I said, playing for time. ‘They might still have some sausages sizzling.’
‘Would you mind if we didn’t?’ he asked, his eyes on the road ahead. ‘I’m not really in the mood for a party. I can drop you off there though, if that’s what you’d prefer.’
I didn’t want to be anywhere without Thomas. ‘No, let’s go to my mum’s then,’ I said hesitantly. ‘I need to pick Tyson up anyway.’
He looked across at me. ‘We can leave it – if you think it’s too soon . . .’
How could it be, when I’d just met his mother?
I texted Mum to let her know we were popping over and she texted back: I’d better put the icing on that cake then!