SEVENTY YEARS LATER

JENNY MCCAULEY THOUGHT she was prepared. She'd had months to come to terms with the inevitable that was unravelling before her, and although that didn't make things easier and she didn't want to contemplate what life would be like after, she could no longer remain in denial: her mother was dying. 

She'd known it for months, had time to accept it and try as best she could to get herself together in time for the day when she would have to say goodbye. Countless hours she had poured into reading self-help books and crying to her family and friends about what she would do without her mum in her life. It was painful, even just to think about. 

Jenny reached out to grasp her mother's old, wrinkled hand and gave it a small squeeze. A reassuring squeeze, more so for her own comfort than her mother's. In comparison to her own, her mother's hand was cold and bony and the observation alone sent shivers down Jenny's spine. Hours previously it had been warmer and more ... alive. 

Every breath seemed weaker than the last and she knew there was nothing more she or the doctors could do to help. 

The disease was terminal. 

With a single glance up at the heart monitor, Jenny couldn't hold back the tears any longer. The figures had decreased alarmingly in the last ten or so minutes.

"Could I have a moment alone with my mum?" Jenny asked the doctor who was standing silently in the doorway. With a sympathetic nod, the lady moved out of the room, the door closing with a faint click behind her. 

Jenny took a deep breath and quickly wiped away her tears with her sleeve.

"Oh, God," she croaked. "Where the hell do I begin?"

Jenny knew there would be no answer and yet the silence only upset her further; she was so used to her mother speaking back or dropping some kind of sarcastic comment, even after the diagnosis. There wasn't a thing in the world that brought her mother down, not even her illness.

"I – I don't quite know what to say... Well, I do know but I'm not entirely sure how. I love you, Mum. I want you to know that first and foremost. I know we argued from time to time and over stupid little things but ... I love you and I want you to know and remember that. I know Tristan would tell you the same if he were here...

"That stupid brother of mine," Jenny laughed through her tears. "He's here in the hospital, Mum. You remember his wife, Katie? She's about to have a baby. He's with her at the moment but I know he wishes he could be here too. Surely you can understand why he's not - he needs to be there for Katie. They're about to have a little girl. You're a granny already..."

Jenny completely broke down.

All throughout her youth, her mother had been there to guide her through life, to tell her and Tristan the differences between right and wrong, good and evil. As far as her mother was concerned, the only evil in the world had been their father.

Gregory had been the most horrible man in existence; drinking and gambling more than looking after his wife and children. It was difficult, living in that kind of environment but Jenny knew that her father had not always been like that.

Her mother had told the both of them about their days as young lovers, going out for meals and participating in normal love-bird activities. It was heart warming to hear that the two of them were so sickeningly in love once upon a time. So in love, that even after he started to become a little distant, her mother still continued to love him unconditionally. 

The bad decisions had started around the time Jenny had been a teenager. Tristan was at the age where he was out most of the time with his mates, leaving Jen and their mother all alone to deal with the monster that was her father. It hadn't taken long for him to go over-board and become abusive. 

Jenny remembered that night very clearly, the night she had dialled the police and asked for help. They had taken him away, and that was one of the last times the McCauley family had seen him. It had been heart-breaking and wonderful all at the same time, but it was her mother who had taken it the worst.

Jenny could recall a time when her mother would stand for no bullshit. She was a strong woman and there wasn't a single thing she would tolerate if it belittled her or her family in any way. But when the abuse started, it was like something broke within her. Jenny was sure she'd seen that spark leave her mother's eyes the first time they grew black and blue. It pained her and only fuelled her anger towards her father.

She hadn't grieved for him once he passed away. On the contrary, she felt like a weight had been lifted off of the entire family's shoulders. The thought of introducing anyone, whether that be a partner or her children to that monster of a man left a bad taste in her mouth. Anyone who could be so vile was dead to her already. 

Tristan had mourned but he hadn't been around to experience the worst of it. Jenny envied him in that way, that he had been old enough to leave and lead a life of his own without witnessing the destruction left behind in the family home. She wasn't sure what he would have done if he'd found out about the one time their father had struck her.

Jenny felt like she'd lost her mother the same night she lost her father. Despite the pain and misery he'd bestowed upon their family, after he died, it was almost as if her mother had too. She grew quiet, distant and occasionally Jenny would find her talking to herself. As any daughter would, she worried for her mum. 

It hurt more the first time that her mother hadn't recognised her face. 

It's just old age, Jenny would remind herself solemnly. She's not a spring chicken anymore, Jen. This is life and unfortunately it isn't fair.

Throughout the last few years, Jenny - and on occasion, Tristan - had heard their mother calling out names of those they had lost over the years. Uncle John and Uncle Craig were mentioned often and there were times when all Jenny could hear from her mother's bedroom was uncontrollable sobbing and questions such as why did you have to go? There were a few names she didn't recognise, such as Rachel and Louis - probably friends from her mother's high school years. She'd never mentioned them before.

Jenny was grateful to still have Derek, her extravagant godfather. Though he often travelled and couldn't be with her in the moment, he called regularly and made sure the family was coping. 

Jenny took a few deep breaths and cleared her throat. "You're already a grandmother, Mum. Hang in there and you'll get to meet your first grandchild! Tristan and Katie decided on the name Heather, I believe? Thank God they didn't stick with Josephina. Bit of a mouthful, don't you think?"

Silence.

"I think so anyway. But it's not my decision after all. They could call her anything and I'd like it, I suppose. I know you would too..."

Silence.

Jenny squeezed her mother's hand a little tighter. "Mum, I don't know if you can hear me. I'd like to think you can. It'd be nice to think that you can hear my voice as you ... as you go forward. I want you to know that you're not alone. You've never been alone and we'll be OK. I think - I hope. It won't be the same w-without you. But we'll try, just like you asked us to."

Part of Jenny hoped that her optimistic approach would stir something within her mother, some small sign that would let her know she could hear every word. A flutter of an eyelash or the twitch of a finger perhaps. But there was nothing and the silence dragged on.

Jenny grew more numb. Her lips trembled as she pleaded, "Please don't go."

Jenny had no idea where her mother would go after she passed. She didn't believe in God. She didn't believe in Heaven and Hell despite her mother's constant assurance that such things did exist. Was there a place after death? Some sort of after-world where spirits roamed for the rest of eternity? Maybe, maybe not. Jenny knew, however, that she would never know until her own time came.

A shadow flickered across the room and Jenny looked up at the window just as it blew ajar. A chill ran down Jenny's spine as the draft crept over her and she reluctantly let go of her mother's hand to go and close it.

As as passed her mother's bed, she looked long and hard at the features she had inherited; the thick blonde hair and pointed up-turn of her nose. Many often said she was a spitting image of her mother whereas Tristan had inherited more from their father, such as his dark hair and brown eyes.

Her mother's blonde hair had long since turned silver and her lovely skin was wrinkled like a prune. Though time hadn't been the kindest to her, she was still a striking woman, one that had definitely turned a head or two back in her day. Jenny had seen old photographs of her mother, when she was a baby, a teenager and the start of her college years. She had grown into her mature features as time passed and Jenny pondered why her mum had settled for such a person like her father. 

For a moment, Jenny stood by the window and looked out at the car park. It was still raining, just as it had been when she'd first entered the hospital three hours ago. She'd gone through two coffees already and was reluctant to leave for a third in fear that she would come back to hear the worst. She wanted to be with her mother when it happened, she had to be.

A knock at the door stirred her. She was relieved to see it was only Tristan, looking utterly haggard compared to when she'd seen him previously.

"How's it going?" Jenny asked her brother.

"She's here," he announced, the look of disbelief replaced by a wide grin. "You're an aunty, Jen!"

Jenny smiled and raced over to give her brother a congratulatory hug. At least there was one piece of good news to get her through the next little while.

"How's Katie?" Jenny asked.

"Knackered obviously," Tristan laughed, raking a hand through his dark hair. "She did just have a baby, after all."

"No shit, Sherlock," Jenny mocked. "I mean, is she OK in there herself?"

"She's not alone, her parents finally made it across and besides, I think she's liking spending some time with Melanie alone."

Jenny was taken aback. "Melanie?"

Tristan smiled sadly at their mother's fragile frame. "She didn't look like a Josephina or a Heather. She's feisty, Katie said. Wouldn't stop bloody kicking for the last few months so she threw Mum's name into the mix."

Jenny felt more tears running down her cheeks as the two of them looked to their mother. "Melanie is perfect. Mum would be honoured."

"Or disgusted," Tristan laughed. "I don't know, it was always hard to tell with her sense of humour what she was really thinking."

"Well, there is that. But I genuinely think that she would have loved it. Who better to carry her legacy forward, eh? She might turn out to be just as sarcastic as her gran, who knows?"

Tristan raised a brow at his sister and warned, "Careful, that's my daughter you're talking about."

The two of them chuckled for a moment before a shriek from the heart monitor silenced them. Instantly, the pair rushed to their mother's side, glancing back and forth to the monitor, to their unconscious mother and to each other.

"Press it!" Jenny gasped, pointing to the nurse call button by their mother's hand.

The next few seconds went by in slow motion. Jenny barely had time to comprehend what was going on before she and Tristan were ushered out of the room and into the waiting area. An anxious looking gentleman was sitting alone in the corner by the coffee machine, his foot tapping up and down. Melanie wondered if he were in the same situation they were - waiting for the news of a loved one. His wife perhaps? 

Jenny gave him a small smile when their eyes momentarily met.

"Oh God," Tristan groaned. "It hardly seems fair."

"What?" asked Jenny. She felt stupid as soon as she'd said it. Of course it wasn't fair. Why did their mother have to be so ill? Why was it such a difficult thing to come to terms with? Why couldn't it have been anyone else?

"Just ... today! It's not fair that mum is so sick and that she probably won't get to meet her granddaughter! It's unfair that today could potentially be the best and worst day of my life."

Jenny wrapped her arms around her brother because it's all she could do, all she could offer in the moment of madness. Hell, she was struggling enough as it was to keep her own tears to herself, so as soon as she heard the first sobs erupt from Tristan's chest, she couldn't hold back any longer. Her throat was so tight and sore from the hours she had spent crying herself to sleep the previous night, with that God awful thought of 'will it be today?' playing over and over in her mind. It didn't matter what day it happened, only that it was going to happen and she wasn't prepared. Not in the slightest.

When the nurse finally emerged from the room across the hall, with that solemn look reserved for those in mourning, she knew. 

Their mother was gone. 

Silently, the McCauley siblings entered their mother's hospital room one final time to say their final goodbyes.

She looks so at peace, Jenny thought as her eyes took in her mother's still frame. It was an odd sensation, the feeling after and Jenny couldn't quite comprehend it. The weight, almost, that lifted from her shoulders as she glanced down at her mother laying there, no longer in any sort of pain or suspension. No longer waiting for the inevitable. 

Peace at last.

Tristan leaned forward to kiss her forehead. "Bye Mum."

Jenny barely heard him as he left the room to tell Katie and her parents the news. All she could focus on was her mother, how all of her worrying was now over and how her mother's life too, had ceased. 

Jenny stood for what felt like forever, just staring, before a nurse arrived to remove her from the room, briefly mentioning something about paperwork for them to discuss when she was ready. She scooped up a few of her mother's belongings that remained on the bedside table - an old book and some postcards she had always kept close - and followed the lady from the room. She knew it would be wise to wait for Tristan before completing any sort of forms and so she took a deep breath and turned to make her way to the maternity ward, wiping away the tears as she did.

"Your mother is a remarkable woman."

The voice stopped Jenny in her tracks. She looked up to see the gentleman from the waiting room standing behind her, his blue eyes inquisitive.

"Was," she corrected. "Did you know her?"

The man nodded and Jenny frowned. He looked no older than her at twenty seven, with tousled brown hair and blue eyes, certainly not someone she had ever seen before. Surely if he had known her mother, she would have at least seen or heard of him before.

"She's an old friend of mine," the man said. "I'm sorry to hear about her passing."

"Thank you," Jenny managed. "Who are you?"

The stranger took a minute as if to contemplate. Eventually he settled for, "You've heard of me."

Jenny blinked. "What?"

"It doesn't matter who I am. All that matters is that I know who your mother was and I just wanted to let you know how much I admired her. She was truly one of a kind."

"OK..." Jenny mumbled. It wasn't often that she was lost for words - a trait she'd inherited from her mother - and yet on this day, it was like they had all escaped her. How was one to reply to that? "Thank you, I guess?"

The man nodded and turned without another word. All Jenny could do was watch him leave, baffled.

That man's not right in the head, she thought.

By the time Jenny made it to the maternity ward, she was exhausted. Physically and mentally. All she could think of was how much she longed for her bed. Perhaps she would have a decent night sleep now that the paranoia of not being by her mother's side when she passed could finally be put to rest. She couldn't recall a night when the hospital hadn't called her in the wee hours of the morning with a solemn, "We think it could be today."

There would be none of that now.

Jenny was instructed to wait in the hall for Tristan and so she took a seat by the door. Absentmindedly, she began to leaf through the pages of the novel her mother had been reading. Her chest ached when realising that her mother had never managed to finished it. She'd only made it about half way through, the tattered envelope she always used as a bookmark wedged in chapter fourteen.

Curiosity got the better of her, and as she opened up the letter stashed within, she smiled. It was the mysterious letter from someone in Melanie's past that Jenny had always pondered. Whenever she had asked what was so special about that note in particular, her mother had never quite kept her story straight, a dead give away that it was top secret. Obviously, this only fed Jenny's curiosity.

Why had her mother been so secretive about it? Who was this devilishly handsome man who used the alias Lucifer?

Well, it looked like she would never know who her mother's mysterious admirer had been.

Little did she know, that she had already met him.

Thank you for reading! Please leave a comment and let me know what you thought, it would be much appreciated and I love hearing your feedback! My favourite comment will get a dedication x

Cazza