And that’s what it came down to: where his presence would make the difference.

He strode briskly back inside to get his jacket. Pulling it on, he went through to say goodbye to his aunt for the last time. The young Mary looked at him from a photo on the lobby wall. Her hair was short and straight and draped over one eye, slender legs emerged from a short skirt beneath a raincoat. Her expression was somewhere between a smile and a laugh and she radiated the vigour of life. The picture was in stark contrast to the emaciated figure in the bed, whose life was rotting from within.

Cal approached Mary to say his final goodbye. He rested his elbow on the pillow and leant over to kiss her, his lips touching her forehead quickly and lightly. There was nothing he could think of to say and he did not want to linger.

He walked purposefully out of the room, through the house to the back door, and stepped onto the path just as Mairi was closing the gate behind her. His intention had been to phone her when he was on his way because he didn’t want to tell her to her face that he was going.

‘Oh, am I too late?’ she asked, concern catching her voice.

‘No, no,’ Cal stammered. ‘I stepped out for some fresh air.’

Mairi approached him up the path, pulling her jacket protectively around her and stared at him. He couldn’t bring himself to tell her that he was leaving. For reasons that reared quickly and he didn’t understand, he did not want to lose the respect of this good, honest woman. 

‘Has there been any change?’

‘No, she’s just as she was.’

They stood together uncertainly, looking into the night, each aware of the silence but neither sure how to break it.

‘I’ll go in,’ Mairi said finally.

Cal watched her disappear round the corner of the house and quietly cursed. He couldn’t leave now. She had looked right into his eyes and he knew she suspected what he had been about to do. It was enough to force him to stay. As the night closed in around him, he reflected on the chance that was slipping away.

In the bedroom, Mairi had left the chair vacant for him and had seated herself at the foot of the bed. She was gently stroking Mary’s leg through the covers. Cal threw off his jacket and slumped into the chair.

‘You’ll be tired,’ said Mairi. ‘You’ve had a long day.’

‘You too,’ he acknowledged, bending his head back and stretching his neck muscles.

The silence descended between them again and it made Cal uncomfortable.

‘That photo in the hall,’ he began, directing his comments vaguely towards Mary. ‘That one of you as a young woman. You were a looker in your day. You must have had a job keeping the boys at bay.’

Mairi smiled affectionately at the prone figure in the bed.

‘I wonder why she never married?’ Cal asked directly to Mairi. He accepted that Mary wasn’t hearing him. Mairi shook her head gently, her mouth tightly closed, fighting back tears.

‘Maybe she never found the right guy.’ Cal answered his own question. ‘She’s just such a loving person I can’t imagine that there was never anyone, but if there was, she kept it to herself. Didn’t you Mary? You listened to all that stuff I used to tell you and I never let you say anything to me. Not that I suppose you would have anyway.’

Mary moaned quietly, startling them. Cal and Mairi both leaned forward, their heads close to her.

‘What’s that?’ encouraged Cal. ‘D’you want to say something?’ But there was no more.

Cal would never know the precise moment of her passing. Her breathing had been barely discernible for the final few hours, but after a while he realised that she had not drawn breath at all.