Mollie Cinnamon Is Not a Cupcake (14 page)

Finally one of the doors swings open and a doctor in a white coat walks out, holding a clipboard. She’s tall and her light brown hair is in one of those tight buns that look like a doughnut.

“Mollie Cinnamon?” She looks around the waiting room.

“Here,” I say, my voice coming out as a squeak.

She nods briskly. “Do you have an adult with you?”

“Yes, me,” Alanna says.

It’s funny − I never think of Alanna as an adult, but technically I guess she is.

The doctor nods again. “OK, good. I’m Doctor Riesman. I’m looking after Mrs McCarthy.” She looks at me. “And you are her grandchild, correct?”

“Great-granddaughter,” I say. “I’m staying with her at the moment.”

“Mrs McCarthy is stable now,” she explains. “She’s on a heart monitor and her breathing is regular.”

The rush of relief is overwhelming. I feel like I’m about to cry again, so I take a deep breath to calm myself. “She’s OK?” I ask. “Really?”

The doctor nods. “She’s weak at the moment, but she’s going to be fine.”

“That’s great news,” Alanna says.

“Yes, but was it a heart attack?” I ask the doctor.

“There are early indications of that,” she says. “Or severe angina. But we won’t know until we run some more tests.”

“How long will she be in hospital for?” I ask. “Can I see her?”

“It depends on the results. But it may only be a few days. If there’s any change in her condition, I’ll let you know. For now she has to rest, but you’ll be able to visit her later.”

“Thank you, Doctor,” Alanna says.

Once Dr Riesman has gone, Alanna puts her arm around my shoulder. “I know all this must be hard for you and you’re coping brilliantly. But you heard what the doctor said − Nan is stable and she’ll be out of here soon. It’s fantastic news.”

I nod wordlessly, relief overwhelming me. I don’t trust myself to speak without bursting into tears.

My mobile rings. I recognize the number and answer it immediately. “Flora! Finally!”

“I’m so sorry, darling,” she says. “I was filming. Are you all right? And how’s Nan?”

“Hang on a sec,” I say. “I don’t think you’re supposed to be on your mobile in here.”

I walk down the corridor and through the main doors into the hospital car park. It’s cold outside, but I don’t mind. After the muggy heat of the waiting area, it’s refreshing.

“I’m at the hospital,” I tell her. “The doctor says that Nan’s stable now and she’s breathing regularly. She thinks it might have been a heart attack, but she has to do more tests.”

“Oh my goodness, poor Nan. Darling, I’m on my way to the airport. I’ll get there as quickly as I can.”

“But you’re in Paris. What about work?”

“Work, schmirk. Oh, Mopsy, of course I’m coming. I’ll be there soon. I love you, darling.”

As I click off the phone, I smile. Flora has finally come through for me.

Flora arrives at the hospital at seven o’clock the following morning. I hear her before I see her.

“Could you be an absolute angel and tell me where I can find Mrs Nan McCarthy?”

I’ve been lying across the plastic seats trying to get some sleep, but at the sound of her voice I open my eyes. Alanna’s dozing opposite me and Bat and Landy are in the car park, sleeping in the jeep. The night seemed to go on for ever and my neck and back are horribly stiff.

Flora’s at the desk talking to one of the receptionists. She’s wearing a smart camel-coloured coat with shiny gold buttons, and she has new designer sunglasses perched on top of her head. Even at this hour of the morning she looks amazing. Like a real superstar.

“She was brought in yesterday,” Flora continues. “I’m also looking for Mollie Cinnamon, her great-granddaughter. She’s only twelve, you see, and I’m most awfully worried about her. I’m her mum.”

“Over here, Flora,” I say, waving.

She lets out a squeal, rushes over and swamps me in a hug. I smell her familiar sweet perfume and feel so relieved to have her here with me. Then I draw back. I’m glad to see her, of course I am, but during the night I kept remembering that it’s taken a heart attack to get her back to me.

“Oh, my poor darling,” she says. “Have you been here all night? Alone?”

“Alanna’s with me,” I say. I point to Alanna, who is still sound asleep, with one of her long plaits dangling over the side of the chair like Rapunzel’s hair. “She’s my friend from the island. And Landy and Bat are outside. Bat drove us all up here yesterday. He’s one of Nan’s neighbours.”

“And where’s Nan?” Flora asks.

“She’s still in the Resuscitation Unit. They’re trying to find her a bed on a ward. They won’t let us see her yet – she’s resting.”

“But she’s all right?”

“Yes. The doctor says she’s going to be fine.”

“Thank goodness for that.” She flops down on the seat beside me. “Oh, Mopsy, I’m so glad to see you, but I am bushwhacked. I didn’t get a wink of sleep. All that rushing around airports. I had to fly into London in the end and then on to Dublin. But I guess you had a rotten night too, didn’t you, poppet?” She rests her head on my shoulder. “Once we’ve got the latest from Nan’s doctor, and they find her a bed, how about you and me book into the fanciest, schmanciest hotel and get some shut-eye? Let your friends go home. I’ll get the hospital to ring us as soon as Nan’s well enough for a visit, and we can whizz straight over to see her. Does that sound like a plan?”

I nod. I’m too exhausted to work out how I feel about Flora right now. She has come a long way to be here. And a comfy hotel bed does sound like heaven.

Later that afternoon, after a long nap and a huge feed in a swanky hotel beside the river, we return to the hospital in a taxi. Flora looks amazing. She’s wearing a new pair of designer jeans, a seal-grey silk shirt and a long gold necklace with a crystal dangling from it that swings like a pendulum when she moves. Bat left earlier – he’s driving Alanna and Landy home. They were all so kind to keep me company. I think when you’ve been through something really tough and scary like that, it bonds you together in a special way. When I waved them off outside the hospital, I felt sad to be saying goodbye.

The hospital has found Nan a bed in a shared ward. When Flora and I get there, most of the women in the five other beds are sleeping, but not Nan. She’s sitting up at the far end of the room, her back resting against a snowdrift of pillows. Her face is a lot pinker now and she looks a hundred times better than yesterday. I feel instantly lighter and less worried.

Flora seems a little hesitant, so I lead the way. “Nan?”

As soon as she sees me, she smiles. “Mollie. Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes. And Flora. My goodness, is it really you? And so beautiful. Just like Mollie. The nurses told me you were here earlier, but I didn’t quite believe them.”

“Can we sit down?” Flora asks.

“Of course.” Nan is studying Flora with wonder, as if she’s an exotic animal that everyone thought was extinct. Then I remember – Flora was fifteen the last time she visited the island, for PJ’s funeral. It must be pretty strange for Nan to see her in person again.

As Flora goes off to find a second chair, Nan says, “I must have given you quite a scare, child. Are you all right?”

I nod and pull my chair in closer to Nan’s bed. “I’m so sorry, Nan. I should never have run off or said all those things to you. Alanna said you’d been worried about something like this happening. And it did.”

“Hush, child,” Nan says. “It’s not your fault.”

Flora places a chair beside mine. She drapes her coat over the back and then sits down, taking one of the coat’s arms and holding it like a comfort blanket. Her hand is shaking a little. It’s not like Flora to be so nervous.

“That’s a beautiful coat,” Nan says.

“Thank you,” Flora says. “It’s cashmere.”

“Ellen loved clothes too. Even as a child. Always such a stylish dresser.”

At the mention of Granny Ellen’s name, Flora winces. “I don’t usually talk about Mum in front of Mollie.”

“Mollie loved her granny very much,” Nan says. “She should be allowed to talk about her. Ellen would have wanted—”

“How do you know what she would have wanted?” Flora says, a little sharply. “You weren’t part of her life once she left the island. You didn’t know her the way I did.”

Nan sighs. “That wasn’t my choice.”

“What happened, Nan?” I cut in. Now is probably the wrong time to ask, but if I don’t, I may never get another chance. Nan and Flora will just clam up as usual and refuse to tell me anything. “What happened between you and Granny Ellen?” I continue. “I know you had a big fight, but what was it about? Flora won’t talk about it and Granny Ellen always changed the subject. I’m tired of all these secrets. Please?”

Nan looks at Flora. Flora gives a tiny nod.

“Ellen left the island when she was eighteen to go to teacher-training college,” Nan says, her voice soft. “She told us her plan was to work with PJ eventually in the island school. But she changed her mind. She dropped out of college without discussing it with us first, to work in a travel agent’s. It broke your great-grandpa’s heart. After that we never really got on. I was furious with her for upsetting PJ and shutting us out like that. She was angry with me for not supporting her choice. We said some things to each other that we shouldn’t have. It was stupid. We were too alike in many ways – both headstrong and stubborn. Neither of us would back down. Over the years it got harder and harder to build bridges. Ellen stopped visiting the island and we stopped talking, even over the phone. I never even met her husband, your grandad. The last time I saw her was at PJ’s funeral and even then we barely spoke. It’s the greatest regret of my life.”

Nan coughs a little and pushes herself up in the bed. She turns to Flora. “I never dreamed I’d lose her so early – before I could apologize for all the hurt I’d caused her. Yes, we had our differences, but I loved her more than anything. I hope she knew that.” Nan’s eyes well up and she blinks back the tears.

“I think in her heart she did,” Flora says, her voice gentler now. “Mum just wanted a different kind of life. And she wanted you to be OK with that. She never talked about Little Bird, but I often caught her looking through the old photos she took to Dublin with her. Of you and Grandpa and the island.” She pauses. “I’m sorry I asked you not to come to her funeral. That was wrong. I wasn’t thinking straight.”

Nan puts her hand on Flora’s. “That’s OK, child. It would have upset me too much anyway. We’ve all made mistakes. I’m hoping we can put the past behind us and start again. Can we do that, Flora? Make a new start?”

Flora looks at me and then back at Nan. “Yes, I’d like that. I should have brought Mollie to see you a long time ago. It’s just been so busy. TV-filming schedules – they are so crazy! You barely get a minute to yourself. It’s been wonderful of you to take Mollie. I hope it wasn’t too much.” Flora looks a little guilty.

“Don’t be thinking like that, child,” Nan says. “What happened happened, and it’s no one’s fault. I just have to be a bit more careful, that’s all. I need to stop racing around like a teenager, the doctor says.” Nan smiles at Flora. “I love having Mollie around to liven things up. Thank you for trusting me with her. We’ve been having a grand old time, haven’t we, Mollie?”

“Yes,” I say. “You’ve been brilliant. Now, can I ask you something else?”

“Of course,” she says. “Anything.”

“You call
me
child, Nan,” I say. “And you call Flora that too. When does it stop? When we’re fifty?”

Nan gives a little laugh. “Never. I’ll always call you both child. It’s what I call the people I love. My family.”

I shrug. “I guess in that case I can live with it.”

“Me too,” Flora says.

Later in our hotel room, I curl up against Flora in the double bed, like I used to do when I was little.

“Night, Mopsy,” she whispers to me. “Don’t let the bedbugs bite.”

“Night, Flora.”

That night, I sleep like a baby.

The following afternoon, after visiting Nan, Flora and I catch the bus to the ferry. Nan insisted we went back to the island. She said she was on the mend and that I was starting to look like a scarecrow in my creased clothes.

Mattie is standing on the harbour wall, collecting fares. “Good to see you, Mollie,” she says as soon as she spots me. “How’s Nan?”

“Much better,” I say. “They have to do something called a stress test today, to see if her heart is all right. The doctor says if everything’s good she can go home on Tuesday. They think it was her angina, not a heart attack.”

Mattie smiles. “That’s brilliant news. And who is this then?” she asks, staring at Flora.

I’m used to the islanders’ curiosity by now, so I just say, “Flora, this is Mattie Finn, from the island. And, Mattie, this is my mum, Flora. She’s coming to stay on Little Bird for a few days. To look after Nan.”

“And you, young lady,” Flora says with a grin.

“Flora, of course!” Mattie says. “Haven’t seen you for years. You’re the spit of your mum. I was sorry to hear she had passed away.”

“Thanks,” Flora says, her eyes sad. “We miss her, don’t we, poppet?”

“Yes,” I say, surprised at her question. It’s the first time she’s admitted it in front of me. “We miss her a lot.”

Flora squeezes my hand.

Flora isn’t great on boats, which is kind of ironic given her travel show and everything. She feels seasick in the cabin, so we have to sit up on deck, in the fresh air. We settle ourselves down on the right-hand side of the ferry, out of the wind, and once we’re under way Mattie brings us some yellow oilskins.

“Tuck these around your legs,” she says. “It’ll stop you freezing to death.”

When Mattie’s gone, Flora snuggles up against me. I can feel her warmth through her cashmere coat.

“Are you OK, Flora?” I ask as we chug out of the harbour towards Little Bird. Her face is going a bit green.

She nods. “I’m OK, Mopsy. And it is rather pretty, if you like all that nature kind of stuff. That’s the island over there, isn’t it? It’s all coming back to me now. The harbour and the pink and yellow houses.”

“That’s Little Bird, all right.” I smile to myself. I thought the pastel-coloured houses were ridiculous at first, but now they’re growing on me. It’s funny − I never thought in a million years that I’d say it, but I’ve missed the island and I can’t wait to get back.