Sara walked in through her mother’s front door. “What’s up?” she said, raising her voice so her mum could hear her wherever she was in the small bungalow.
Sara bent down to scoop up Nyx the cat. “Hello, beautiful,” she said. Nyx half-closed her eyes in appreciation of the fuss.
Sara’s mother came through the kitchen door, wiping her hands on her apron. “We’re going to visit Gran,” she said. She took off her apron and draped it over the radiator, grabbed her coat with one hand and ushered Sara outside with the other.
In the car, on the way to the nursing home where Gran lived, Sara worried that there was something deeply amiss.
“Sara, don’t fret, there’s nothing wrong, I just decided we needed to visit Gran,” her mother said.
“I can’t help it, I’ve had a weird feeling all day, since I got out of bed on the wrong side,” she said. “Then, the photo of us three together, you know, the one we took before Gran went into the nursing home, that’s the photo that cracked. Now you have an impulse to visit.” Sara’s voice trailed off, leaving the premonition unspoken.
Her mum looked at her, a swift glance, then eyes back on the road. “I know what you mean, I’ve had similar misgivings today, that’s why we’re going to see her, not because I’ve had bad news.”
The drive took less time than usual and given that rush hour was still in full swing, it was a minor miracle in itself.
A parking space opened up right in front of the doors, just as they got to the nursing home and they went inside together.
A few nurses and orderlies stood in the foyer of the building and it took a few seconds for Sara’s mum to find her bearings.
“Hello Ruth,” a familiar voice said as they approached reception. “You’re right on time.”
Sara’s mum kissed her on both cheeks, then took both hands in hers and kissed the palms. Sara kissed her Gran in the same way and the old lady smiled, taking hold of their hands and leading them to her room.
“Close the door, dear, we don’t want just anyone listening,” Gran said once they were all inside her room. Sara closed the door and sat on the bed, next to Gran’s chair.
Gran held up one finger to make them wait, and a knock came at the door. It opened without giving Gran time to respond to the knock. One of the nurses Sara recognised from the foyer nurse came in, and seemed surprised at the sight of the visitors. “Oh, hello, I didn’t realise we had visitors, Hephzibah,” she said.
“We don’t have visitors, I have visitors,” Gran said, placing emphasis on ‘we’ and ‘I’.
The nurse’s eyebrows lifted at the firm words, her lips pursed and a frown creased her forehead. “Oh, OK,” she said. “I wondered if you wanted a cuppa? There’s tea and snacks to be had in the day room.”
“It’s a bit late for afternoon tea,” Gran said, her tone no less stern. “And snacks before dinner? No thank you. I’ll be visiting with my daughter this evening. I may be late back. I may not even be back this evening, we’ll have to see.”
The nurse stood up straight, bristling as though offended by the old lady’s words. “You have to get permission from Doctor Lee if you’re going out,” she said.
Sara blinked at the officious stance and change in attitude of the nurse.
“Nurse,” Ruth said in a no-nonsense voice. “You’ll find Doctor Lee has been informed of this arrangement and is in total agreement that my mother should have an evening with family. It has been arranged for weeks now and I wasn’t aware that you needed to know every detail of her life. Kindly arrange for the wheelchair to take her to the car, please. It will be at the side of the elevator, as we arranged.”
The nurse narrowed her eyes at Ruth but decided against arguing, then she turned and left the room.
“Well, that escalated quickly,” Gran said. She put on her coat and went out of the door, past the elevator where the stroppy nurse struggled with the brake on a wheelchair.
“Never mind, we can manage without it,” Gran said as they passed.
Sara looked back at the nurse. She’d given up on the wheelchair brake but the struggle came at a cost. Hair dishevelled, a large black oil mark on her clean overall, she stood with one hand on her hip, watching the three leave.
Sara helped Gran into the car and closed the door once the old lady was safely inside. She got into the back seat and they set off.
“You need permission to even leave this place?” Sara asked once they were on their way.
Gran chuckled and turned her head a little so she could see her granddaughter. “Apparently so, but only if they catch you before you leave,” she said and gave a wink of a bright, twinkling eye.
“No, Gran doesn’t need permission to leave, but she’s been having problems with that nurse for a while and I think it’s time to show her that she needs a re-think on her attitude,” Ruth said.
“She’s not been abusing you, has she, Gran?”
“Oh darling, no,” Gran said, her voice soft and reassuring. “Believe me, if anyone shows abusive tendencies, they always seem to meet with an accident of some sort.”
“Gran, you don’t?”
“Don’t what, dear?” she said, turning to look forward, through the windscreen.
From many years of experience of her Gran, Sara knew there was no point in pressing for an answer.
Sitting at Ruth’s kitchen table with Gran and Mum, Sara’s mind drifted off into the past. Mum looked like Gran had in those days and Gran looked like Granny, her own mother. Sara could just remember Granny and she smiled at the memory.
“A penny for them?” Gran said. She held an old coin in her hand. Sara grinned and took the coin.
“I was thinking of Granny, you look just how I remember her, and Mum looks like you used to, perhaps a little younger. She’s even wearing the same style of apron you used to wear.”
Ruth placed a teapot and cups on the table and sat down.
“Yes, there’s a strong family resemblance running through our women,” Gran said. “I suppose it’s what you’d call ‘good genes’.
Sara laughed. “Yes, that’s what I’d call it. Thanks for the good genes.”
Gran’s smile evaporated all of a sudden. She sipped her tea, using both gnarled hands to hold the cup to her lips. “Dark days are coming,” she said.
“What do you mean?” Sara said, her voice rising a shade in pitch.
“Exactly that. I can feel it. It starts with a single bad moment and progresses and builds until there’s no light at the end of the tunnel and things seem impossible. Some call it depression, I know, and yes, it can be just like that, but don’t you go to the doctor, his pills will not help you. Those little capsules cloud your mind and dull your senses and are no good to you,” Gran spoke from behind her cup and if Sara didn’t know her voice, she could have imagined it came from anywhere.
“Gran?” Sara said. She placed her hand on Gran’s arm at the elbow and Gran shook her head in a little gesture of awareness.
Gran glanced at her daughter for reassurance and then looked directly into Sara’s eyes, holding her, almost-mesmerised, just as she used to when Sara was a child, listening to her stories. “I’m all right,” she said. “It’s those others that’s the problem.”
“Stop joking, now, Gran, you scared me. What are you talking about?”
“If you want to know, I’ll tell you,” Gran said. “No, I’m not being awkward, I mean it. I’ll tell you it all if you really want to know.”
“Of course,” Sara began, but her mother’s hand on her arm made her pause.
“Think carefully,” Ruth said. “Knowledge is power, but sometimes, it’s power that you’d rather not have, and there’s no giving it back.”
Sara thought for a long moment. She looked at Gran, sitting quietly sipping her tea, and then she looked at her mother. Both women studied Sara and at last, the girl nodded, placed both hands on the table before her and said, “I want to know.”
“You’ve never asked after your father,” Gran said.
Sara blinked. “No, I never have.”
“Neither did your mother ask of hers and neither did I ask of mine,” Gran said. “It’s the way of it with us Hickey women. There only seems to be women in this family, no menfolk.”
“Now you come to mention it,” Sara said.
Gran nodded, accepting that Sara understood. “Our women are healers and have always been so. We have enjoyed favour and suffered disrespect. Our women have been branded and beaten for our insight and abilities and some have died at the hands of those who didn’t understand, or understood only too well,” she said. “How is the bruise on your arm?”
Sara’s hand went to her arm to rub the bruise. “I took echinacea steeped in water and I rubbed some onto the bruise, but how did you know?”
Gran lifted the sleeve of her blouse and pulled it up over her elbow. “We’re connected. We’re family. If you concentrate, you can see your mother’s knowledge, as she can see mine. Now, the arsehole you encountered this morning,” she said.
“How did you know about him? I’ve not spoken to Mum about it,” Sara said, sitting up straight in her chair.
“It was a matter of time before you came across someone like him,” Gran said. “A beautiful, young, smart woman with lots of confidence in herself is bound to encounter men who are frightened by her abilities. It’s ingrained, a learned response, but it’s also instinctive. Be wary of that man and others who try to ignore you. Don’t make the mistake of believing you are invulnerable, because you are not. You may live in enlightened times when it comes to laws of equality, but do not rely on laws, for men make those laws and most men are threatened by you as much as the men back in times gone by were threatened by us.”
“I understand,” Sara said.
Gran nodded. “Protect yourself in every way you can. The dark days ahead will affect you deeply and therefore, will affect your mother and your grandmother in turn. Protect yourself and you will protect us, too. That’s not to say you can dodge your responsibilities, however,” she said and crooked a finger under her granddaughter’s chin, lifting her face up. “Oh darling, you have a sacrifice to make.”
“What does that mean, Gran?” Sara’s voice sounded high-pitched, even to herself and she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “I understand,” she said, opened her eyes and nodded. “I’ll know it when it comes.”
“Exactly so,” Gran said. “Research is easier than it has ever been. You can research things on your phone these days. Wonderful inventions. Do lots of research and record everything.”
“I will, Gran,” Sara said.
“Now, about your dream last night,” Gran said.
Sara blinked and was about to ask how, but she already knew. They were connected.
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