Winter Magic in Port Berry (Port Berry #3)

Chapter 16

Ginny

‘Ginny, Ginny,’ squealed Suzanne, rushing into the hallway at Birdy’s as soon as Ginny stepped foot inside. She clapped excitedly. ‘We’ve only gone and got a blimming place, and it’s in Cornwall. Come on, your mum’s nearly ready. I said we’d take her over for a meet and greet. It’s about an hour’s drive away.’

‘Why am I only hearing about this now?’ asked Ginny, feeling a surge of mixed emotions.

‘Henley sorted it this morning, that’s why. Besides, you’ve only just got back from Wales.’ Suzanne headed to the kitchen to zip up Birdy’s bag on the table, then turned to lightly grab Ginny’s elbows. ‘This is going to be good for her, so don’t you fret,’ she said quietly. ‘She needs round-the-clock care, and you need your life back.’

There was so much logic in Suzanne’s statement, but it didn’t stop Ginny from feeling like a terrible daughter. All her life her mother had told her so, and now she was proving the point. How on earth was she going to be able to live with herself knowing she’d stuck her mum in a home then buggered off to enjoy life?

As though reading her mind, Suzanne added, ‘Hey, you’re doing the right thing. Residential homes were created for this very reason. Some people just need more hands to look after them. She’ll be with trained carers.’

Everything Suzanne said made perfect sense, and Ginny tried hard to raise her spirits, but as soon as she saw her mother’s frightened face, her whole world came crashing down.

‘I said I’d just look,’ said Birdy, tightening her lips as Suzanne secured her into the stairlift at the top of the stairs.

Ginny figured it was a good start. Perhaps it would be best if she too looked at the visit that way. She told herself over and over that no decision had to be made on the spot, even though she knew she was bargaining with the inevitable.

The car ride over felt awkward and slightly nerve-wracking. Ginny was sure she would be ordered to abort mission at any given moment. Suzanne was the only upbeat person in the vehicle, babbling on about how good care homes were, and how she’d been on outings with residents in the past, and the fun Christmases she’d attended as a worker.

Ginny was only half listening, as her sickly tummy was gaining all her attention. She hoped she wouldn’t have to pull over to vomit. How was this situation so hard? Her mum needed care, they were going to a place that offered just that, and loads of other families had just got on with it.

Her thoughts turned to what Will had said about his grandmother’s home. It sounded lovely, and the last she heard, Babs was being well cared for. The same would happen for her mum, she was sure. She had to train her brain to be sure, else she was certain her digestive system would never be the same again.

Ginny’s stomach was in knots as she parked along a narrow one-way street. Suzanne jumped out straight away to sort the wheelchair, and Birdy sat in silence, not even looking up from her lap.

The house looked in need of a fresh coat of external paint, and the small concrete area out front could have done with a few cheery plants or something.

Ginny didn’t want to judge, but she couldn’t help herself. There was something off, and it wasn’t her guts this time.

A seagull cried overhead, reminding Ginny they were close to the coast, even if there were no other signs. The air wasn’t exactly filled with the fresh salt of Port Berry, and the streets she’d driven down didn’t look as clean. She knew she shouldn’t compare, especially as Port Berry held awards for its cleanliness. She couldn’t expect all coastal towns and villages to be the same.

Birdy groaned as she slumped in her wheelchair. ‘I don’t feel too good, Gin.’

You’re not the only one.

‘We won’t stay long, Mum. Let’s just have a bit of a nosey, yeah?’

‘Suppose,’ mumbled Birdy.

Ginny watched Suzanne greet a middle-aged man and woman at the door. She pushed her mother closer, not liking the look of the couple straight away. She told herself to stop being daft, then faked a smile as she approached.

Had Will exaggerated somewhat when talking about his grandmother’s care home? What Ginny was witnessing on their tour didn’t meet anything he had described. She figured all care homes would be different, but the one she was in wasn’t anything like the one Babs was in. Maybe they were at the wrong place.

She locked eyes with the couple’s thirty-something son, whose shifty eyes did little to soothe her pounding heart. Why couldn’t she hold a real smile and feel some form of relief that her mum would be looked after?

The hard floors and hospital-blue painted walls lacked warmth, and Ginny expected a lift to take them to the upper levels, not a stairlift. She expected so much more. A games room for bingo night or arts and crafts, perhaps a beautiful garden with a duck pond and weeping willow. Large bedrooms decorated in light tones and views of rolling hills or the sea.

Her heart dropped as she came face to face with a small room containing a single bed, small basin, and the window view of a brick wall. She pointed at the marks by the bed. Off-white stains on the ghastly green paint. Surely someone could see that needed a makeover.

‘What’s that?’ she asked, trying to remain impartial.

The woman who seemed to be in charge, waved a hand dismissively. ‘Oh, it’s where the last resident used to spit up the wall. It’s been cleaned.’

Ginny had no words. She went to the window to stare out at the old brown bricks facing her. There wasn’t much else going on down below. Certainly no green garden. Not a tree in sight. Oh, this would never do. How could she possibly sleep of a night knowing her mum was in this room?

‘I don’t feel very well,’ said Birdy, and Ginny turned to see vulnerability, a rare sight on her mother.

‘We can make you some dinner,’ said the care worker.

Suzanne went to agree to the offer, but Ginny told them all they’d seen enough and would head home to think things over.

‘We were going to take you down to the beach,’ said the woman. ‘Show you where we go some days. We’re not stuck in here day in day out. There’s lots to see, and we have a singer come over sometimes to entertain the troops.’ She turned to Birdy, adding a huge smile. ‘And if we settle you in before Christmas, you can join in with the festivities. You’ll have such a good time. You’ll see.’

Birdy simply stared at her, and Ginny noticed the water hit her mum’s weary eyes.

‘It’s a bit overwhelming at the moment.’ Ginny meant for herself as well. ‘We’ll speak to Henley when we get back. He’ll let us know what the next steps are once we’ve decided.’

The woman nodded. ‘Okay, but just so you know, this isn’t house hunting, love. If your mum needs care through the council, then you don’t get much in the way of choice.’

Yes, thank you, that was starting to dawn on her now. Jeez, Ginny needed some fresh air, preferably Port Berry air. She was glad to get back in the jeep.

‘Dinner would have been nice, Ginny,’ said Suzanne, a clear huff to her voice. ‘I’m hungry, and Birdy needs some food too.’

‘I’ll treat us all to dinner at my café. It won’t take long to get back.’

‘I don’t want to live there, Ginny,’ blurted Birdy, bursting into tears. ‘Please don’t make me.’

Ginny had to slow the car, as water blurred her vision. She went to speak, but Birdy was in a terrible state, crying and gasping, begging over and over.

Suzanne tried to console her, but Birdy was getting worse, so Ginny put her foot down on the accelerator, hoping her mum would settle once she saw she was closer to home.

Birdy clutched her chest, and her sobs disappeared.

‘Pull over,’ yelled Suzanne.

Ginny glanced over her shoulder, seeing the state her mother was in. A lump hit the back of her throat as her legs turned to jelly. She quickly found a dip in the country lane and pulled in slowly. ‘Mum, you need to calm down. It’s going to be okay.’

‘Call an ambulance,’ said Suzanne, faffing about with the buttons on Birdy’s blouse.

‘What’s happening?’ Ginny started to cry as she fumbled with her bag to find her phone.

Suzanne threw open the door. ‘Tell the operator she’s having a heart attack.’

Ginny froze.

‘Ginny!’ Suzanne yelled. ‘Ambulance. Now.’

Giving a destination was tricky when Ginny wasn’t entirely sure what the stretch of road they were on was called. She did her best before helping Suzanne get Birdy out of the jeep.

Everything slowed.

The emergency operator’s voice was slurred, the fields half-covered in snow were warped, and Suzanne was pressing on Birdy’s chest while quietly singing some distorted song in time to her movements. It wasn’t until sirens and lights filled the air that Ginny woke from the trance she had with her mother’s lifeless face.

The paramedics took over from an exhausted Suzanne, and Ginny dropped to her knees by her side, feeling beyond useless.

‘Mum. Mum.’ Ginny nudged Birdy’s shoulder after the medic packed the defibrillator away. ‘Wake up, Mum. You can wake up now.’

‘I’m sorry,’ said a voice, but Ginny wasn’t paying attention.

‘Mum?’ Ginny rested her head down upon her mother’s forehead. ‘Please wake up.’

Suzanne shuffled closer, resting a hand over Ginny’s back. ‘She’s gone, love.’

‘No. No.’ Ginny sobbed. That couldn’t be true. How could it? They just spoke in the car. Ginny had told her they were going home. They were going to have dinner in the café. How could she suddenly be dead? Nothing made sense. Not Suzanne, not the paramedics, and certainly not her tough-as-old-boots mother.

‘Come on, Gin. Let the paramedics do their job,’ whispered Suzanne.

‘Job? Job? She’s not a job. She’s my mum!’ Ginny burst into tears, unable to control the air restricting her lungs. Maybe she was having a heart attack too. Perhaps it would be for the best. After all, she had killed her mother.

Suzanne brought her to a stand, leaning her against the old army jeep. ‘Just wait here. I’ll sort everything.’

What was there to sort? Ginny knew she should be the one lying on the grassy verge, dead. How could she have put her mum through so much stress? She was a bad daughter. The worst. All those years, her mother had been right. Ginny Dean, you’re worthless. Can’t even look after your mum when she’s poorly.

Ginny stared at the sky. More snow was due. Light, but snow all the same. Her thoughts drifted to the hotel with the chickens and donkey. She should have run away years ago like the Henshaws, then she wouldn’t have been such a waste of space.

It was nice having a dream of a different life for a while. She was married, living in a farmhouse, she rescued animals during the day and snuggled with her husband every night. But that’s all it was. A dream. She wasn’t even speaking to Will. How could she have her happy farm life with him?

Her gaze went back to her mum being wheeled away to an ambulance. What life did she have? What life did she ever have? That stupid Blue Man boat only existed in her sleep, and the cold light of day was all that was left.

Ginny sat in her car, holding the steering wheel, not knowing what to do or where to go. Numbness took charge. That and the power of failure. Her mother’s voice rang in her ears, haunting her. Nothing new. Birdy always haunted her. What difference would death make?

‘I’ll drive,’ said Suzanne, her voice coming out of nowhere.

It didn’t matter who did what. Nothing mattered anymore. Life had changed once again, but this time someone died because of her actions.

‘I killed my mum,’ she whispered, climbing out of the vehicle.

‘No, you didn’t. Don’t say such a thing, Ginny. You listening?’ Suzanne’s voice faded into the icy breeze, and everything turned black.