The Last Days of Rabbit Hayes by Anna McPartlin Page A

said, moving his hands through the air.
    The sun was still high and Molly wasn’t sure that staring at it was good for their eyes, especially as Rabbit already had eye problems.
    ‘I don’t like it. You could do yourself damage,’ Molly said.
    ‘Lie down beside me, Ma, and see for yourself,’ Rabbit said.
    Molly had always been a reasonable sort of woman. She was never one of those mothers who ordered their kids to do or stop doing something ‘because I say so’.
    Molly accepted her daughter’s invitation. Her kids moved over and she lay down on the ground beside them with her sunglasses on.
    Her face felt warm and she immediately blinked a few times, but then she settled on the light. It felt nice but slightly strained.
    ‘It takes a while to feel spacey,’ Rabbit said.
    ‘How long? I’ve got the tea on.’
    ‘About five minutes,’ Davey said.
    ‘Ah, here, I don’t have five minutes and my eyes keep closing. I don’t like it.’
    ‘Just give it a minute, Ma,’ Rabbit said.
    Lying on the warm ground felt good, so she stayed for a minute longer to please her youngest, but also because she was now a little too lazy to stand up. Then the strangest thing happened. Molly Hayes felt herself floating in the air and she was heading for the blue sky above. The sensation was so real that she grabbed the blanket and gripped it tight. Her heart raced and she sat up.
    ‘Christ on a bike!’ she shouted, and her kids sat up too.
    ‘Wha’?’ Davey said.
    ‘Are you all right, Ma? You look like you’ve seen a ghost,’ Rabbit said.
    ‘I think I almost was one!’ Molly said, alarmed, as she scrambled to her feet.
    ‘Wha’?’ Davey asked again, clearly confused by his mother’s reaction.
    ‘Did either of you feel like yous were leaving your body?’ she asked them.
    Rabbit and Davey looked at each other, then at her. They shook their heads and said no.
    ‘Right, good! Get up – get up! Never do that again.’
    As she walked across the road, she heard Rabbit say to her brother, ‘I think me ma is losing it.’ And she’d wondered if her youngest was right.
    She laughed at the memory. Maybe she
had
momentarily lost it, or maybe she was just tired or overwhelmed, or she’d taken too many headache tablets. She wondered what she’d have seen or imagined if she’d stared into the sun that day. It made her shudder. The warmth of the memory was gone and it had left her feeling cold.
    When she turned from the window, her husband was sitting up in bed. ‘You should come to the hospice today,’ she said to him.
    ‘To do what?’ he asked. ‘Just to get a front-row seat? Maybe we should sell tickets.’ Jack was not often sarcastic and it didn’t suit him.
    ‘I’m going to be with our daughter who needs us,’ Molly said evenly.
    ‘That’s right,’ he said, ‘she needs us, and what are we doing? We’re doing nothing. That’s what we’re doing.’
    ‘What do you want from me, Jack?’
    ‘I want you to fight, the way you always fight.’
    ‘I am fighting.’
    ‘No, you’ve given up. The minute you drove her into that place you gave up on her.’
    ‘How dare you?’
    ‘We didn’t even discuss it.’ He was shouting now. His face was red and his fists were balled.
    ‘What is there to talk about?’ Molly roared back.
    ‘Rabbit, our little girl, is dying and we’re supposed to protect her, Molly. Why aren’t we doing everything we can to save her?’
    Molly was rooted to the spot. Her heart was aching, her stomach turning and her brain somersaulting. She needed to sit: her legs threatened to give way. She moved towards the chair. Her face must have paled so considerably that her husband, despite his anger, jumped out of bed, pulled out the dressing-table stool and settled her on it. She put her face into her hands and considered what he had said as he waited for her response.
Fight for her, Molly, for God’s sake. If you can’t do it, no one can.
    Molly looked up into his eyes and spoke quietly