pass.’
Ling punched Connor on the arm. ‘Slick
driving, hotshot! Almost as good as Mad Max here.’ She nodded at Jason. ‘In
his test, he nearly mowed Bugsy down.’
‘At least I didn’t get
shot,’ stated Jason defensively.
‘But you almost lost control of the
car,’ cautioned Jody. ‘That’s why a vehicle is probably the deadliest
weapon you’ll have at your disposal. And, like any other weapon, if handled
incorrectly you can kill yourself, and your friends, with it. But handled correctly you
can save lives.’
‘Connor, you’re home!’ his
mum called out brightly as he and Charley were dropped off by the taxi. She came down
the path to greet them. But, as she approached the rickety gate of their East London
terraced house, she suddenly lost her footing. Her walking stick went from under her and
she toppled over. Only Connor’s fast reactions saved his mum from a nasty fall. He
leapt forward, catching her in his arms.
‘Whoops,’ said his mum with an
embarrassed glance up at him. ‘Must have slipped on some ice.’
Connor nodded, accepting her excuse without
argument. However, as cold as the winter weather was, he couldn’t see any ice. As
he helped her to stand, he noticed a distinct tremor in his mum’s body. While it
might have been the shock of the fall, he suspected it was another symptom of her
multiple sclerosis. His mum looked more fragile than ever, as if the slightest breeze
might blow her away like a leaf. Her cheeks were more sunken and the constant pain she
suffered seemed to have etched permanent wrinkles at the corners of her eyes. Connor
felt tearswelling up in his own and fought
against them. It was tragically apparent to him that the disease had strengthened its
grip on his mum and was slowly yet surely squeezing the mobility from her frail
body.
But his mum’s smile remained defiant
and her embrace was powerful with love. As he returned her hug, glad for the chance to
blink away his tears, she seemed to take strength from his presence; when he pulled
away, her face had visibly brightened as if a shadow had been lifted.
‘It’s so good to see you,’
she said, kissing his cheek. Then she looked past him to Charley, only a flicker of
surprise passing across her face before she offered a heartfelt greeting. ‘You
must be Charley. Welcome! Sorry about the dramatic reception.’
‘Don’t worry, Mrs Reeves,’
replied Charley, entering the front yard. ‘I’m just pleased to meet you.
Connor’s talked about you a lot.’
‘Really?’ said his mum, taking
her walking stick from her son but declining his offer of support. ‘Well, I hope
it was all good. Now, you both must be tired from your journey. Come in before we all
freeze to death.’
They followed her through the front door,
where Connor noticed a newly installed ramp and a folded-up wheelchair in the hallway.
His mum’s deteriorating condition was worse than he’d feared.
In the living room his gran was waiting by
the fireside. The coals in the grate glowed red, giving off a steady warmth and
flickering light that Connor always associated with being home.
‘How’s my
big man?’ asked his gran, rising slowly from her armchair, as old and worn as she
was.
‘Fine, Gran. And you?’
‘As fit as a fiddle and …’
‘… as right as rain,’ Connor
finished for her.
‘Hey, you cheeky scamp! That’s
my line.’ She laughed, pulling him into a hug. ‘Now, who’s the beauty
behind you?’
Stepping aside, Connor introduced Charley,
who handed his gran a gift box of fine teas.
‘Connor told me you like Earl
Grey,’ she explained.
‘Why, that’s very thoughtful of
you,’ his gran replied, admiring the fancy label on the box. Connor could tell his
gran instantly warmed to Charley by the way she gently patted her hand in thanks.
‘Make yourself at home, Charley, while me and Connor get some tea and
Alice Clayton, Nina Bocci