Aunt Lucinda's Diary

Part of my first chapter from Aunt Lucinda's Diary
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The smell of disinfectant permeated the air as Gail rushed through the building. People stood in small groups chatting quietly, nervous tension seemed to fill the air. Other people some dressed in ordinary clothes, others in white or blue uniforms rushed around purposefully. Gail rushed forwards, her dark green eyes barely seeing any of it. Walls painted a pale mint green were supposed to be calming. She should be calm ... it was natural. Death was a part of life. And Aunt Lucinda was in her 90's now. It had been a good life, so Gail supposed. Making her way through the depths of the hospital, Gail had made this trip a number of times over the last few days. Each time they had expected it to happen, but always the old lady had hung on for just that little bit longer ... it was as if she didn't want to leave them.

Suppressing a sob, Gail blew her nose and pushed open the door to the private room. Her aunt Lucinda's face was turned towards the window, almost as if she were looking outside onto the courtyard garden. Outside, the breeze moved the branches of the tall oak tree slightly. The window was open slightly, allowing the scent of the roses planted just under the window to filter into the room. Beside aunt Lucinda's bed, a single rose picked from the tree outside stood alone in a small jar, small enough to be a drinking glass or empty jam pot. The blood red petals looked faded and slightly wilted from the heat.

Aunt Lucinda's white hair had been brushed smooth by the nurses caring for her, and it framed her small oval face. Smiling to herself, Gail felt peace wash over her. Aunt Lucinda was sleeping quietly. Sinking down into the chair beside the bed, she slipped her hand into that of her aunts. Her aunt's hand was twisted and gnarled with age. Calluses from years baking stood out on her fingers. As Gail squeezed gently, the old lady gave a startled gasp. "I'm coming Matthew!" She whispered and her head slumped back further against the pillows.

Gail sat there stunned for a moment. Matthew? Who was ... She had no time to think as the machine next to the bed began beeping loudly. The door was pushed open as two nurses burst into the room. Gail immediately jumped out of the chair, clutching her handbag to her chest and moved swiftly out of the way. She gazed anxiously as the two nurses checked her Aunt for vital signs. She knew before either of them shook their heads or spoke that her Aunt Lucinda had died.

Sadness filled her, her wonderful Aunt Lucinda was gone. But she was at peace now. Tears flowed freely down the side of her face and she made no attempt to wipe them away, instead, she took hold of the end of the bed as one of the nurses turned towards her. "I'm sorry Ms Bradshaw, but your aunt is-"

"I know." Gail sniffed and nodded, drawing a deep breath she muttered her thanks for their care. Aunt Lucinda hadn't been ill long. It seemed so strange ... pneumonia at this time of the year. She felt grateful that her aunt hadn't suffered ... and hadn't died alone. The nurses gave her a sympathetic smile, and turned to leave. Gail gazed at the body of her now deceased aunt and felt herself trembling. What were her aunt's last words? Matthew ... who was Matthew?