A Life Less Lonely Read Online Free PDF

sit.”
    She’d caught her breath as the buzz of conversation and gentle jazz music faded, becoming inconsequential. The major was easy to talk to and their meeting heralded the start of something very, very special. Something she missed more and more as each day passed and the memory of which she still clung to, desperately.
    The unthinkable happened and her major had turned into a fallen hero. Andrea was still staring at the bungalow’s front door when she blinked hard, realising she could see right inside her mum’s hallway. The beige and brown carpet tiles and the telephone table with her son’s face smiling from a narrow silver frame stared back at her as if daring her to do something. She wrenched open the car door and hurtled across her mother’s front lawn to leap over the neat border of coloured primroses and raucous yellow daffodils.
    “Mum?”
    No response. Andrea closed the door behind her and hurried to the kitchen. She noticed toast crusts on a plate and an open marmalade jar on the hob. Her mum had changed to the lemon and lime sort. Focus, Andrea! The cooker wasn’t on but when, cautiously, she held her hand near the kettle, she could feel warmth.
    Fear pushed away grief. She called again from the hallway and, hearing nothing, checked dining area and sitting room. The door to the cloakroom stood wide open, leaving only her mother’s room. Maybe she’d gone back to bed.
    Andrea called out. “Mum? Are you in there?”
    Still nothing. She went inside. The familiar lily-of-the-valley scent hung in the air and the bed was immaculate, the window opened a half-inch. A pair of pink furry slippers perched on the quilted dressing table stool. She hadn’t noticed before but a photograph of Clint Eastwood looking laconic in Stetson and poncho stood propped before the oval mirror. Ironically, her mum was still girly at 79 years of age. In the ensuite bathroom the cold tap dribbled but fortunately the plug wasn’t in place. Andrea turned off the water, biting her lip. Wasn’t everyone absent-minded sometimes?
    A quick glance showed bland tidiness in the spare bedroom so she retraced her steps to the kitchen again and unlocked the back door. Even though the bolt had been secured, her mother might have gone out the front way and down the side pathway to feed her feathered friends. But Rosemary was nowhere to be seen.
    Now what? Andrea locked the back door and hurried round to the neighbour’s house.
    Lizzie Dean responded almost at once. “Hello,” she said. “I thought maybe it was your mother come to see me.” She touched Andrea’s arm. “What’s happened?”
    “Mum isn’t there, Lizzie. I … I’m just beginning to realise how much she’s been deteriorating.”
    “Come in a minute. Please, please don’t beat yourself up. You’ve had more important matters on your mind. And it’s only recently I’ve begun suspecting things.”
    Andrea stepped into the hallway and sniffed the spicy sandalwood headiness. Lizzie must be burning an aromatherapy candle. Calm was definitely not where Andrea was at that moment. “Suspecting things?” Biting her lip, she waited for the other woman to respond.
    Lizzie sighed. “I think Rosemary’s become rather crafty. I’ve been calling in several times a week to make sure she’s OK. She always puts on a good front. But I’m not sure she’s eating properly.”
    “She seems to have made breakfast today.” Andrea didn’t mention where she’d found the marmalade pot.
    “OK, that’s good. But the other day I asked if she needed anything from the supermarket and she blocked me. Insisted she had more than enough food in the house.” Lizzie looked anxiously at Andrea. “We were in the kitchen. When the phone rang and she went into the hall to answer it, I sneaked a look inside the fridge. Made my excuses and came back with a few basics.”
    Andrea nodded. “I know what’s coming. She probably accepted them and asked how much she owed you without even knowing