“Hello stranger.”
Ruth blinked several times, squinting against the light. Someone different every time. “Isla?”
“Right here.” Her chaplain’s voice came from further along, out of sight.
She focussed on the figure in the chair, the woman so frozen and awkward, hands on a handbag on her lap.
“It’s me, Ruth…”
Ruth frowned, searching her memory. Her brain was too much of a fog for this. Only one possibility, but it couldn’t be… “Emily?”
“You do recognise me. I was starting to worry.”
“What are you doing here?”
“Next of kin?”
“They called you?”
“Seems so.” Emily sighed. “It’s not the reunion I’d imagined.”
“I’d rather given up imagining.”
“Oh. Right.”
“How are you?”
“I feel like I should be asking you that.”
“I think that’s rather obvious. Anyway, nurse could tell you better than me.” Ruth let her head sink back into the pillow. “Come on. How are you.”
Emily shrugged. “Been better, been worse. Fun phone call to get in the early hours.”
“Where are you living now?”
“Down near London. Husband died last year, cancer, decided to relocate nearer… the grandkids.”
“Oh, I had no idea, I’m sorry.”
“Yeah. We’ve rather failed at the whole being sisters thing.”
“But you came up.”
“What did you expect? A call like that, of course I’m coming.” Emily was silent for a moment. “It was a shock, actually. Realising I’m your next of kin. I mean, obvious, but still. Though church people seem to be looking after you.”
“Yup. Tom was here earlier too.” She shifted onto her side, careful of the tubes reaching from her arm. “What’s the time?”
“A bit after six. Evening.”
“Oh. I didn’t think it had been that long.”
“London’s a long way.”
“Thanks for coming.”
Emily sighed. “We’ve really made a mess of being sisters.”
“Blood’s no guarantee of anything.”
“No. But it’s still worth something, or should be. We should have made more effort.” She swallowed. “I know I’ve been pretty rude, about the Church and all that. You know I don’t care for any of that stuff but still… you do. And obviously, they’ve been better to you than I have.”
“And I shouldn’t have left you to deal with all dad’s stuff alone. And then mum.”
“I see why you did, though. I might have done the same if I’d been you. And then my kids, I should have let you get to know my kids.”
“I’d have loved that. Though I’m rubbish with kids.”
“So am I, to be honest. I was a rubbish parent.”
“Sounds like they turned out okay.”
Emily shrugged, turning her head away. “They’re great. More in spite of me than because.”
“Don’t be too hard on yourself.”
“Lou killed herself earlier this year.” She clamped her mouth shut the moment the words had fallen from it.
“Oh.” Ruth was silent.
“Sorry. Not the moment for that sort of news.”
“No.” Ruth shook her head. “I mean… she had kids, didn’t she?”
“Mimi, Zack, and Archie. Yeah. Seven, five, and two-and-a-half. Trying to explain that to them…”
Ruth shook her head again. “And there was me cut up about losing my dog. That’s horrible. I’m so sorry.”
Emily attempted a smile. “It’s tough.”
“It really is.”
“So soon after Michael, too.”
“Yeah.”
“I was thinking about getting back in touch. Just couldn’t get up the courage. And then that phone call…”
Ruth held out a hand to her, the most she could offer. “Sorry.”
“Well, at least…” Emily rubbed her eyes impatiently. “You’re still here, just about. Okay. Let’s try to keep talking this time.”
“If that’s what you want.”
Emily nodded. “I’ve lost so many, it makes me realise… sisters is sisters. Seeing Rosie and Jack lose Lou…”
“I’ve missed so much.”
“Yeah. You need to meet them.”
“Might be a bit late. They’ve grown up this far without me, don’t want to upset things now.”
“Yeah but…” Emily swallowed. “Well, you don’t have to, but it would be nice. Maybe not Rosie, she’s in Japan of course, but Jack. And… the kids. They’re down in London, it’s a long way…”
“I go there all the time. Lords and stuff.”
“Oh yeah.” Emily tried to smile. “Always were a high flyer.”
“I could give them a tour, of all sorts of behind-the-scenes of places. If that’ll go any way towards making up for being useless at human interactions.”
“That’d be cool.” Emily looked at her hands. “You’re retiring, aren’t you? It’s weird, getting news like that from the media, when I think about it.”
“Yeah. September. Well, when I say retiring…”
“Going to teach in Cambridge or something?”
“Tutor at Westcott. Where I had a lot of supervisions for my PhD, you know? And lecture a bit. Taking a sabbatical year first.”
“Cool.” Emily carried on twisting her fingers together. “It’s like… different worlds.”
“I suppose so.” Ruth pushed herself up the pillows. “Thanks for coming to see me.”
“Yeah, how did you get yourself here anyway? Something about heatstroke…”
“So they tell me. Haven’t really felt up to asking, I’ll find out once it’s gone. Wiped me out pretty thoroughly, it’s been kind of scary at times - especially hearing words like 'dialysis' and 'stem cell treatment'. Seems to be going now, hopefully for good.”
“Let’s hope so.” Emily shook her head. “Looking at you makes me feel old.”
“Well thanks…”
“I mean, seventy…”
“I thought we were trying to be nice to each other.”
Emily laughed, and there was something familiar about it, something of their mother. “Well hey, I’m a granny, I’ve just settled for embracing it.”
Ruth pulled a face. “I guess I’m a great-aunt. Though whether I really have any right to call myself that, considering I’ve never met them…”
“You must. You absolutely must.” Emily hesitated. “It might help, actually.”
“Oh?”
“Mimi. She’s very, kind of… like you.”
“Oh?”
“Not like Archie. He’s… well, it’s kind of what drove Lou to it, I think. Being overwhelmed, trying to do everything for him and... not being able to. Feeling like she failed. He’s really bad, he’s never going to, y’know, pass for normal. Function on his own, like you do. Mimi, she’s more like you…”
“They're autistic? Just use the word.”
“We haven’t paid for formal testing, not for Mimi…”
“And? No need, unless she needs stuff.” Ruth picked at the sheets. “Isla, did you know?”
Her chaplain tried desperately not to stare. “No, I…”
“Sorry, I shouldn’t have outed you in front of a colleague…” Emily looked awkward.
“It’s not exactly a shameful secret.” Ruth shook her head carefully. “This is someone who’s been working closely for me four years.” She glanced back at Isla. “There you go, irrelevant fact of the day.”
“I didn’t put it together until… past couple of years. How I managed to not realise for that long I don’t know. Always thought you were just a pain in the arse.”
“Oh, that I am.” Ruth sat up further, fumbling to the side for her glasses. “I’m me. Just because I have autistic characteristics doesn’t make me less me. Just like being neurotypical doesn’t make you more or less you. It’s just a way to describe part of what I’m like, kind of like a subset. And I know you don’t like it when I talk about God but it’s how God formed me, and it plays into making me the right person for the job I’m doing now. Though,” she grinned, “I’m nowhere near as bad as I used to be. Getting wiser and more tactful with age, I hope. Or at least better at masking. Anyway, yes, I’d love to meet Mimi. Get to know her. Commiserate over the miserable chore that is learning to function in neurotypical society. Reassure her that it’s possible.”
“That’d be great. Next time you’re around.” Emily pulled a face. “Once you’re out of hospital…”
“Yeah. That. Give me about a day and I’ll be fed up of here. No doubt consigned to a few more days rest.”
“Definitely,” Isla confirmed. “Currently another week of complete rest. Depending how things go, you might be allowed light exercise after that, and then a little bit of desk work if you insist.”
“Fair. I suppose.” Ruth closed her eyes, running through the week’s appointments in her head. What she’d missed already. What she would…
Her eyes snapped open and she pushed herself into a sitting position. “Tell me I’m wrong...”
“What?” Isla and Emily spoke together.
“Saturday.” Ruth drilled into Isla with her stare. “Ordinations.”
Isla visibly shrank. “Yes, I’m afraid so.”
“No.”
“It’s in two days. You’re in hospital, and staying here until they know you won't die on us.”
“No.” She repeated it more quietly, tears pricking at her eyes. “No.”
“I’m sorry. We’ve spoken to Ian, he’s stepping in to take your place. I know it’s disappointing…”
“No.” It came out a whisper, and she raised a hand to wipe away tears.
“What is it? Sorry, I’m not fluent in Church…”
Ruth swallowed down the lump in her throat. “Ordinations. It’s Petertide, when we typically ordain priests and deacons. This Saturday, in York. It was going to be my last one.”
“Oh.” Emily managed to look only slightly bemused. “One of the things you’re retiring from?”
“It’s the job of the diocesan bishop, sometimes shared with suffragans. I won’t be a diocesan from September.”
“I’m going to take it those words mean something and that this is a big deal.”
“Yeah.”
“No postponing?”
“No. That’d be selfish.”
“I thought you were in charge…”
“The one who would be first must be last and the servant of all.” Ruth looked at Isla and swallowed. “It wouldn’t be fair on anyone. Or right. Unless I can make a miraculous recovery in the next two days…”
Isla raised her eyebrows but didn’t bother responding.
“I want to get out of bed.”
“Are you sure that would be wise?” Emily looked at her doubtfully.
“No, but if I can get fit enough to do the whole service in a wheelchair you can be damn sure I’m going to.”
“Ruth.” Isla shook her head. “You’re signed off.”
“I’ll sign myself back on.”
“You can’t do that.”
“I promise that if I can do even one of those services I will be good for as long as necessary and do whatever you tell me…
The door had opened mid-sentence and she was interrupted by a familiar voice. “You, do as you’re told? I have to know the price of this…”
“Tom!”
“Hey troublemaker. Miracles happened in my absence, by the looks of it.” He nodded at her other two visitors. “Isla, and..?”
“Emily. My sister.”
“Pleased to meet you, Emily. Tom Carter.”
Ruth saw Isla catch Tom’s eye and pull a face, and then him raise his eyebrows in return. They both ignored her glare.
“It’s not been a smooth day.” Isla told him. “Picking up at the moment, though, and seems to think she’ll be able to get to ordinations in the Minster on Saturday. Trying to persuade us to take her in a wheelchair.”
Tom raised his eyebrows at Ruth. “And in return you’ll be good and do as you’re told?”
She nodded, her eyes swimming again. “It’s my last ones, Tom. When you do your own, you’ll know…”
“I’m sure I will.” He dumped his bag and bent down to hug her gently. “I’m sorry, Ruth. God’s in charge. God and the doctors.”
She swallowed and wiped her eyes on the back of her hand. “I know.” Come on, Ruth, push a smile onto your lips. “Good day?”
“Wonderful. Schools today, and then a lovely centre for handicapped children and adults. It was just… joyful, you know?”
“I know. I’m glad to hear it.”
Tom swung a chair over from the other side of the room and planted it beside the bed, placing his hand back on her arm and smiling before looking past her. “So. Emily. Sorry, have you had any opportunity for family catch up time?”
“We have.” Emily looked around the three of them. “Just so you know, this is probably more clergy than I’ve ever met in my entire life…”
“Ah, yes. I’m afraid it’s a strange life your sister leads. No religious sisters yet? Not quite nuns but look like nuns...”
“No…”
“Only a matter of time. They’re wonderful.” He looked further over. “And Isla. Don’t tell me you’ve been here all day…”
“I stepped out a couple of times when she was asleep. Once things had settled.”
“Oh you are a hero. Have you had dinner?”
“No, and nor have I,” Ruth told him.
“Better address that, then.”
“Get my strength back.”
Tom raised his eyebrows. “We’ll hope for a good report from doctor.” He squeezed her arm. “God, not you, remember,” he said quietly.
“Yes, my Lord Bishop…”
“Behave…”
“I am.”
“Your Grace…”
“Fine. Sorry.”
“You're not really.” He looked up again. “So, Emily, how long are you up here?”
“Um, I’m not sure. Depends how things go. Probably… a few days? While Ruth’s in hospital?”
“How about when she’s released, do you want her? We were going to send her to the Order at Whitby otherwise, they know how to handle her.”
“Oi!” Ruth glared at him, and he stuck his tongue out in return.
“Well… I’m down near London. It’s not ideal.”
“Do I get a say?”
“Only after we’ve decided. No, that’s a long way, probably better either with Whitby or coming to stay with her in York. I know she has space. And I know the Sisters would be perfectly happy to have her, it depends what you think. No decisions yet, obviously…”
“No. We’ll wait for a word from the doctor. This York… ordination thing… that’s not going to happen?”
“We’ll assume not.” Tom said it firmly, and Ruth tried to hide the sharp disappointment that sliced through her at his words.
“Right.”
“Now, you didn’t come all this way to be surrounded by clergy. Do you want to stay and eat and have a private chat with your sister while I take Isla away to find food elsewhere? Also, have you booked a hotel yet or not got round to it?”
“I did it on the train.”
“Wonderful.” He took Ruth’s hand and squeezed it. “Right, my dear. I am going to take my hyperactive self out of the way before I wind you up any more, and leave you to have a civilised chat with your sister. Does that suit you?”
Ruth shrugged. “You’ve made it quite clear to me that my desires are irrelevant.”
“I’m sorry.” A moment before genuine remorse settled on his face. “Sorry.”
“Go on.” She waved him away but he hung back, and she shook her head. “I don't appreciate being treated like a child, but I forgive you.”
He bowed his head meekly towards her. “Thank you. I’ll be back in about an hour, and we can see how you're feeling then - if you're not sleeping by then, of course. Have a good evening together.” Then he picked up his bag and nodded to Isla, who followed in his wake. Ruth watched him go, shaking her head, then glanced at Emily.
“He’s the one who got me here. He’s got the right to be pushy.”
“I’m saying nothing.”
“Right, topics of conversation other than the Church…”
“Shall we request food?”
“Sure. Good plan.” Ruth sat up fully, forcing strength into her limbs. A day and a half to get herself well and convince them to release her. If there was a time for stubbornness, it was now.
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