as she always does, and contemplates her from the landing, her long face resting on her paws.
‘Oh Summer,’ Becky says to her. ‘What am I going to do?’
Summer rises and trots over, putting her face close to Becky’s leg. Becky strokes her soft head.
‘Clarity comes with darkness, apparently,’ she says. ‘So why haven’t I got a clue what to do about my mum?’
In response, Summer jumps up, her paws on the window sill as she peers out, tail wagging. She lets out a low whine, which Becky knows means ‘I want to go out’.
‘You want to go for a walk now?’ Becky asks.
At the mention of the word walk, Womble and Danny suddenly wake up, alert. Becky groans. She should have known not to use that word out loud.
‘I can’t believe this,’ she says as they pad over, wagging their tails. ‘I’m going to have to take you all out, aren’t I?’ They grow more excited and she laughs. ‘Fine. Come on then! Maybe the darkness will give me some clarity.’
She pulls on some jeans and a light jumper, then heads outside. She is surprised that it’s not pitch black, as the moon casts a silver light across the fields. The dogs leap ahead of her, excited at being out in the dark. Becky welcomes the cool air of night. But it doesn’t clear the cobwebs inside. Her mum is wrong, darkness doesn’t bring clarity.
‘Ah, another person who’s awake,’ a voice says from the darkness. She looks up to see David. He’s standing at his kitchen door, a mug in his hand. The dogs leap over the fence and bound over to him as he laughs.
‘Couldn’t sleep either?’ Becky asks him.
‘Never been a big sleeper. Not seen you out at this time of night before though.’
‘I’ve got a lot of things on my mind.’
‘Your mother?’
Becky nods. She’d told him about it as she’d hurriedly rushed to her car the evening before, asking him to let the dogs out if she wasn’t back within three hours or so.
‘Want to talk about it?’ he asks now.
‘Only if you have another one of those going,’ she says, gesturing towards his mug.
‘I can certainly arrange that for you.’
She smiles and lets herself into his garden through the gate, walking into the kitchen. There’s a lamp on, casting a soft glow around the room. She’s always liked his kitchen, full of knick-knacks picked up from his years running a pub in Ireland: ornate pint glasses, horses’ shoes, framed photos of racehorses. It feels comfortable in there, a contrast to the place she used to live in with her dad in Busby-on-Sea, which was always so sparse.
‘So, how is your mother?’ David asks, bringing a mug of steaming hot chocolate over to her.
‘Her usual defiant self. A few lies thrown in too, par the course.’
He smiles. She’s told him about her mum over the years – small details, but enough to form a picture.
‘I met her doctor,’ Becky adds, blowing on her drink, steam spiralling up from the mug. She takes a quick sip, feeling the tears start to come. ‘What she said is true. They think she only has a few days.’
David frowns, looking down at his own drink. ‘I’m sorry to hear that,’ he says with a heavy sigh.
‘She wants to die in the cave she ran away to.’
He peers up at Becky, his frown deepening. ‘Really?’
‘Yep. It’s impossible, of course. What with all the medication and equipment she needs.’
‘Is it?’ He looks into her eyes. ‘Or are you just hoping it’s impossible?’
‘What do you mean?’
David places his mug down and drags his chair to be closer to her. Under the light of the lamp, she notices how old he looks, how tired.
‘I mean maybe you don’t want to do as your mother asks because she’s been doing as she wants all her life. Maybe this time, you’re in control and that feels good.’
Becky shakes her head. ‘It’s not like that. You know I’m not like that!’
He shrugs. ‘I didn’t know the little girl who got left behind by her mother. This is bringing all that back, I bet.’
Becky frowns. ‘Maybe. But the fact still remains, a cave isn’t a nice place to die.’
‘Isn’t it? Just don’t rush into a decision you might regret. If she thinks she was happy there, for a while anyway, then it might be the best place for her.’
I think you’ll be happy here, Becks, I really do.
A memory comes to her of her mum smiling down at her, the cave behind her. Her mum had said that to her once.
David yawns.
‘Sorry, this isn’t exactly the conversation to have at three in the morning,’ Becky says.
‘I don’t mind.’
‘No, really,’ Becky replies, standing. ‘I’m tired anyway. We both are.’
‘You know I’m always here.’
‘I do.’ She squeezes his hand. That’s the thing with David, he is more than just a neighbour. She always finds it so easy to talk to him. It’s probably because he gives such sensible, sound advice.
A few minutes later, Becky is back in bed, the dogs flat out on the landing. She closes her eyes and sleep comes instantly, but it’s peppered with dreams of her mum, as she was back then. So beautiful, full of curves, those blue eyes, arms wrapping around Becky’s small body. The cave again, her mum’s words: I think you’ll be happy here, Becks, I really do.
Then the scene changes. Her mum’s sitting on a swing, crying. She peers up, sees Becky and smiles. ‘Only you make me smile,’ she hears her whisper. ‘Only you, Becky.’
Scenes from a party next, loud music, a cake in the shape of a monkey. Everyone is smiling, happy, apart from her mum.
Then finally, the sight of her mum running away into the darkness, a look of freedom on her face that Becky had never seen before, the cave beckoning her …
Just as the sun begins to rise the next day, Becky makes her way back to the hospital. When she gets there, it’s eerily quiet. The light from the sun outside the vast windows is white, blinding. She heads to her mum’s room but a nurse, tired and disapproving, stops her. ‘No visitors until nine.’
‘It’s important,’ Becky says.
The nurse holds her gaze. Something in Becky’s expression must make her change her mind. ‘Okay, just a few minutes,’ the nurse says.
Becky walks to her mum’s room. Her mum is sitting up in bed, as though she’s been expecting her.
‘You wanted me to live in the cave with you, didn’t you?’ Becky asks her.
Her mum nods, smiling slightly. ‘I left your dad, darling, not you. I wanted to take you with me. I fought to have you with me. Even went to court.’
Becky frowns. ‘Court?’ She vaguely remembers talking to official-looking people, but nothing about her mum going to court. Her dad must have kept it from her. Maybe that was a good thing. ‘Why didn’t I get to live with you then?’
Her mum’s face darkens. She sighs and looks out of the window. ‘It doesn’t matter now.’
Becky walks to the chair by her bed, sitting down and taking her mum’s hand. ‘I’ll take you to the cave.’
Her mum’s face lights up. Then, for the first time in