I’d left charging by my bed. There were no missed calls.
I rang the hospital from my mobile, and when I finally got through to someone on the Stroke Unit they couldn’t tell me very much beyond that my mother was ‘comfortable’; there was ‘no change’. I said I would come in as soon as I could, and the nurse – or whoever she was – told me to take my time.
I asked again if they would call me if anything happened. Even though she claimed to have my mobile phone number on file, I gave it to her again and she repeated it back slowly enough to be writing it down.
After that I sat still for a moment, wondering what was coming next. The central heating had gone off and the air felt chilly, a little damp. It was as though the house didn’t want me to be here either, was pushing me towards the door, a phantom hand on my back trying to restore order to an environment where there was none.
Downstairs, the cat was in the hall, meowing at the kitchen door and pulling at the carpet with her claws. I creaked my way down the stairs, yawning, and when I opened the door the cat shot in ahead of me, mewling at me over her shoulder as though she hadn’t eaten in weeks. For a treat I squeezed a sachet of expensive wet cat food into her clean bowl even though it wasn’t technically anywhere near her usual feeding time, and boiled the kettle while she went at it delicately, licking at the gravy and then picking the morsels off one by one.
While I was waiting for the kettle I called work, using Kate’s direct dial number to bypass the switchboard.
‘Intel, Kate speaking.’
There was an official Media Services-sanctioned greeting to use when answering the phone, but neither of us could ever remember it when put under the pressure of a ringing phone. More often than not I was so distracted when I picked up a call that I would just say ‘Hello?’ and hope it wasn’t someone too official on the other end of the phone.
‘It’s me,’ I said. ‘Annabel.’ In case she’d forgotten who I was.
‘Are you OK? How’s your mum?’
‘She’s still unconscious.’
‘Do you need me to talk to Bill?’
‘No, I need to get on with stuff. They said they’d ring me if – you know, if there was any change.’
‘Frosty was looking for you earlier.’
‘Oh?’
‘Wouldn’t tell me what it was about. Said could you go and see him as soon as you get in. Want me to tell him you won’t be in for a while?’
‘No, I should be in… um… soon. I’ll let you know.’ I didn’t want her to think I was slacking. I didn’t want to give her any cause to complain about my work ethic, or for that matter to start taking over any of my responsibilities.
‘Something’s definitely going on with your rotting corpses, you know. There’s been people coming in and out all day looking for you.’
‘Really?’
‘They don’t tell me anything.’
I had a sudden memory of the reporter – Sam – telling me about a phone call he’d received, and I was about to blurt it out to Kate when I realised I wasn’t supposed to have been talking to a reporter, never mind giving him a lift home. What was it he’d said? Some woman had phoned him… ‘Have they found another body?’
‘Well, there’s one on the Chief’s Summary this morning. Shall I get Frosty to ring you?’
I gave in. ‘Sure. I’ve got the phone charged up.’
‘I’ll let him know.’
‘Thanks, Kate. Bye for now.’
I sat staring at the cold living room for a moment after ringing off, my eyes failing to focus on anything. My mum’s going to die, I thought. She won’t be here for much longer. Surely there were things I was supposed to say to her, things I should be doing?
Frosty didn’t call, and after half an hour of fidgeting I couldn’t stand the wait. I drove in to work and because it was late afternoon I risked parking on the station. There were plenty of spaces, thankfully. I left my permit on the dashboard together with a laminated card I’d made up with my force number and mobile phone number on it, just in case someone wanted me to move.
When I got to the office, Kate was still hard at work, hammering away on her keyboard. ‘Did Frosty get hold of you, then?’ she asked,