prologue extended

The mother sat in the hospital waiting room; strangely like a hotel foyer with it's plush chairs and art nouveau decor. She tried to focus on what the doctor was saying.  This was such vital information, and yet the mother’s eyes were roaming over the doctor’s face, wondering how old she was.  The flawless skin and highly stylised hair suggested she couldn't be more than 25.  The mother wondered how it was possible that such a young woman could be entrusted with such awesome duties.  She wondered if this doctor felt fearful as she delivered such grave news.  Did she doubt her skill?  Did she question her own capabilities to save a life? 
The mother was aware of the nausea building in her belly.  Was this a case of nerves that such a young woman could be responsible for her child’s health?  Or, more disconcertingly, was this anxious flutter a sense of jealousy that another woman had achieved so much so young? 
She tried to snap her attention back to the words falling from this young mouth.  Really, what kind of person thinks these thoughts?  She had to focus.
Hang on.  There were no more words.  Oh God, she isn’t talking anymore, she’s looking at me.  What did she just say?  Did she ask a question?
‘I’m sorry? What was that?’ she asked, slightly flustered.
‘That’s okay, Mrs Ryall, it is so much to take in at once.  You must be feeling very scared and emotional right now.  Take your time to process everything and I can come back soon.’
Oh God she thinks I can’t concentrate because of the distress, what the hell kind of person am I?
‘Is there someone coming to be with you soon, Mrs Ryall?  Can I call somebody for you?’
‘My husband is on his way’ she explained.
‘Okay, I will leave you for a while and come back when you husband is here and you can make a decision together.’
Oh shit – there was a decision!  What the hell was it?






I wish I were surprised at today’s events.  Regrettably though, I am not.  Today our granddaughter attempted suicide.  I wish you were here to hold my hand right now, my love.  You would have known what to do, you always kept me sane. 
Fifteen short years since that darling, little baby came into this world and she is trying to take her self back out.  It is so futile to ask why – who knows how the mind of a teenaged girl works.  Yes, I can hear you say it – I should know, I was once there myself.  But my darling, these days are so very different.  It seems there are so many pressures put on these little babes, is it any wonder they struggle?  I could see this coming and I still was at a loss as to how I could stop it.  It feels futile even to try and help, but you know I don’t mean that.  I have to help her.  I have to help Jacquiline to help her. 
What is this crazy generation gap?  Why are we destined to differ so much from our children? Why is it so hard to understand the inner workings of the child you carried into this world?  And why is wisdom wasted on the oldies?  What use is all this insight into life when I am too old to put it to good use?
I am so exhausted, my love.  It is a terrible thing to admit, but I understand our granddaughter’s urge.  I want to lie down and sleep and never get back up.  I wish you were here so I could be in your arms again, feeling that unparalleled sense of calm you always gave me.  I want you to run your fingers over my face and kiss the tip of my nose.  I want you to listen to my ramblings with quiet patience and astute advice.  I want you.  Even after all these years, I still want you.