The Girl in the Mirror. Cathy Glass

Grandpa had come to stay, and would probably continue for as long as it was needed. Evelyn returned to the study a quarter of an hour later with Mandy’s coffee but didn’t stay. ‘I drink mine on the hoof,’ she said, ’while I see to a few things in the kitchen.’ At just gone 8 a.m. Mrs Saunders knocked on the door and came in carrying a fresh jug of water. She said good morning, swapped the fresh jug of water for the one on the tray and, collecting Mandy’s empty coffee cup, asked if she needed anything, which she didn’t. At 8.45 Gran came slowly into the study on her walking frame, having being helped downstairs by Evelyn, who then disappeared. Mandy kissed Gran good morning and they sat by the bed until 9 a.m. when Mrs Saunders reappeared and announced that breakfast was ready.

      ‘We have breakfast in the morning room while Evelyn sits with Will,’ Gran explained to Mandy. On cue Evelyn came in and said she would sit with Grandpa while they ate breakfast. Gran flashed Mandy a knowing smile.

      Mandy helped Gran to her feet and walked by her side along the rear hall to the morning room. As she entered the room she felt she was on a film set for Brideshead Revisited or a similar period piece. Mrs Saunders was standing by the oak sideboard where five silver tureens had been arranged with matching silver serving spoons. The circular oak table was now formally laid for two, with silver cutlery, Aynsley rose-patterned china cups and saucers, and a ringed linen napkin beside each place setting. ‘If you’d like to help yourself…’ Mrs Saunders said to Mandy, removing the lids from the tureens. ‘There’s scrambled eggs, bacon, sausage, mushrooms, grilled tomatoes, and toast in the rack.’

      Mandy wondered if they always breakfasted like this, and what Grandpa, with his simple tastes and dislike of pretension, would have made of it. Not a lot, she thought. But she was hungry.

      ‘Thank you,’ she said, accepting the breakfast plate Mrs Saunders handed to her. She then went along the sideboard and took a spoonful from each of the tureens while the housekeeper served Gran. Coming to the end she took a glass of orange juice from the tray and then sat at the table opposite Gran. But unlike the day before, when she’d found the formal meals served in the dining room quite bizarre and somewhat distasteful given what was happening to Grandpa, she now found the ritual almost reassuring. Despite the turmoil and anxiety of the family crisis, here was something that could be relied upon: dependable, consistent, and a complete distraction. It was presumably why Evelyn continued with the routine of formal meals.

      Shortly before 9.30 the doorbell rang. ‘That’ll be the nurse,’ Gran said. ‘Evelyn or John will see to him.’

      ‘I think John’s asleep,’ Mandy said.

      ‘Then Evelyn will see to him. Evelyn likes me to stay here until the nurse has finished. I usually do as I’m told.’

      Mandy returned Gran’s smile and they continued eating. They heard Mrs Saunders answer the front door and then Evelyn’s voice greet the nurse in the hall. When they’d finished eating Mrs Saunders cleared away the plates and they remained at the table until Evelyn had seen the nurse out and came into the morning room and said Grandpa had had his wash and injection.

      Evelyn helped Gran onto her walking frame and Mandy followed them to the study. As she entered she saw the commode had gone and a capped polythene bottle was now beside the bed. Gran noticed it too.

      ‘He won’t use that,’ Gran said indignantly.

      ‘We’ll give it a try, Mum. It should stop the accidents and make it easier for Dad.’

      ‘And his pain relief?’ Gran asked. ‘You were going to see if it could be increased.’

      ‘It’s all taken care of. Don’t you worry, Mum.’ Mandy thought Evelyn sounded patronizing but Gran either didn’t hear it or chose to ignore it. She nodded and returned to her chair by the bed.

      ‘Why don’t you have a lie-down?’ Evelyn suggested to Mandy. ‘Grandpa should sleep for most of the morning now, and I’ll be popping in and out.’

      ‘If I’m not needed I might go for a short walk,’ Mandy said. ‘Get a breath of fresh air.’

      ‘Of course, love. Do whatever you please.’ Evelyn smiled. ‘We’re all very grateful you stayed.’

      ‘I’m pleased I stayed, really I am,’ Mandy said. ‘I think I might walk into the village. Do you want anything from the shop if I get that far?’

      Mandy saw the smile on Evelyn’s face vanish. There was a short pause before she replied, tightly: ‘No, no thank you. I don’t use that store any more.’ Throwing Gran a pointed glance she said something about having to see Mrs Saunders and left the room.

      Mandy looked at Gran for explanation but Gran had returned her attention to Grandpa. ‘See you later then,’ Mandy said. ‘Do you want anything from the store?’

      ‘No thanks, love, but you can give my regards to Mrs Pryce. She works there.’

      ‘Will do.’ Picking up her bag from beside the chair Mandy threw it over her shoulder and, kissing Gran and Grandpa goodbye, left the study.

      Pryce? Mrs Pryce? The name sounded familiar, Mandy thought as she went to the cloakroom before setting off. Why it should sound familiar she didn’t know, nor why Evelyn had behaved oddly when she’d mentioned the village store. But one thing she did know was that there were no toilets on the walk into the village, and if you got caught short you had to go behind a hedge. She remembered that Sarah and she had had to take turns to squat out of sight of the road, while the other looked out for passing cars or, worse, someone walking their dog along the path.

      Tucking her mobile into her jacket pocket – Adam had texted earlier saying he would phone mid-morning – and with her bag slung over her shoulder, Mandy let herself out of the front door. It was a lovely fresh spring morning, like yesterday – which had been Tuesday, she had to remind herself. Too much food, too little sleep and being closeted in the hot study were making her brain sluggish, but her body restless. A brisk walk was exactly what she needed, she thought, to ‘blow away the cobwebs’ as Gran would say.

      Mandy followed the path around the edge of the drive and turned right on to the narrow tarmac footpath which ran beside the single-track lane. It was the road her father had driven along yesterday, the only road leading to and from the house and which led to the main road and then into the village. Mandy walked quickly, invigorated from being outside in the fresh air, and also from the luxury of being alone. She wasn’t used to having company and making conversation for large parts of the day. Since she’d given up work she’d had solitude each day during the working week to concentrate on her painting. She’d only seen Adam in the evenings. In this at least I’ve been disciplined, she thought cynically, although she had to admit her time alone had produced very little: a few half-baked ideas, the odd sketch, but no painting. If I could just finish one painting, she thought, I’m sure it would restore my confidence and make a difference – to everything.

      She passed the driveway which led to her aunt’s closest neighbour, although the bungalow, standing in its own substantial grounds, was so far away from Evelyn’s house it hardly constituted a ‘neighbour’. Indeed, all the properties she passed had their own land and were very secluded; ‘exclusive’ was the word an estate agent would have used, she thought. And although the houses were slightly familiar from when she’d passed them in the car the day before, she had no other memory of the road despite Sarah and her often walking into the village.

      Mandy felt her phone vibrate in her pocket and quickly took it out.

      ‘Miss you,’ Adam said, as soon as she answered. ‘When are you coming home?’

      ‘Miss you too,’ she said, appreciating the sound of his voice. ‘Adam, I’ve said I’d stay and help. My aunt and uncle are exhausted.’ And grateful for the chance to off-load she told him of the dreadful pain Grandpa had been in between the shots of morphine, and the night she’d spent in the study-cum-sick room. She felt herself choking up as she described how John and she had tried to soothe away the pain. ‘He’s very poorly,’ she finished, not wanting to cry on the phone. She was about to tell him of the