Time to go (3) and last
“Where´s Tom? I asked finally forgetting who in the name of god was sitting in front of me. I thought him very rude as I was no spring chicken and he had left me standing here in front of him for what seemed like an eternity. “Get up and let an old woman sit down, have you no manners?”
He jumped up. “Sorry, now if you don´t mind let´s go, I´ve to call up to Mr. Ryan yet.” I scrunched up my eyes to look at him better. He looked familiar. He was very bony looking so, feeling sorry for him, I suggested. “Won´t you stay for a while. My mother is in the kitchen making cakes.”
Smoke bellowed out of his non existent ears. I felt as if it was my fault that he was angry. I wanted to ask him to sit down again and take the weight of the floor but all that came to my lips were the words. “Where´s Tom?”
Just then the door swung open and in came my happy little helper with a big mug of tea and biscuits. “Nuala,” she said while shutting the door with her foot. “Sit down there for yourself. What are you doing wandering around the room talking to yourself?” I turned to introduce her to the familiar stranger. He had disappeared.
“I was talking to Tom.” I said and sat down. She smiled and said “Had he any news?”
Then I remembered and started to cry. “Ah now Nuala what´s wrong?” she consoled me while giving me a big hug. I said bitterly through salty tears. “I´m all alone. All my family is dead. I´m the last to go. I just want to die. I just want to die. Why won´t I die?”
“Your daughter is still with you,” she said as if I needed reminding of it. “Ah I´m only a burden to that one, she tells me enough times.” I replied. “That´s not true, she loves you loads now give us a hug and have your tea before it gets cold.”
I knew where the conversation was headed. I was upsetting her and she was going to change the subject and I´d forget my sorrow and fall into banal conversation.
I tried to hold onto the feeling.
The tea was a bit hot. “Can you put some more milk in that dear?” I asked. She took the cup and went into the kitchen. I could hear her talking to my mother.
In the kitchen Nuala´s happy little helper ran into Nuala´s daughter, Nora, who had just come back from work. “You´re early!” said the helper. They began to talk about the old woman. The helper told her how upset Nuala had been when she suddenly regained her memory.
“Well sometimes, I think, if death tapped her on the shoulder and gave her the look, she´d even forget to go with him.” sighed Nora.