Elsa could not manage the baby. Ginny was in and out of hospitals. Wendy, Elsa’s younger sister, had just been widowed. She was drafted into the care team.
Wendy had no life when her husband died, so filling it with Elsa and Ginny, got her through the days.
Neither Elsa nor Wendy knew much about Down’s Syndrome, and Elsa didn’t think she needed to know. Wendy had asked about getting in a special carer and Elsa became angry and upset as if Wendy questioned her maternal ability.
When Elsa became calmer, realising that Wendy was all she had, Wendy had also felt that Elsa was her only family. For seven years Wendy dedicated her life to helping Elsa care for Ginny.
Then, she began to raise her head, to look around, and to realise that she still had a life. She still had a chance to go and do and be and see, but unless she stepped away from Elsa and Ginny, she would be buried there.
She began slowly with occasional social events, then volunteer work which got her away from Elsa and Ginny a few hours each day.
Almost a year later, Wendy told Elsa she was going away for a week. This did not cause dislocation. Elsa accepted it. But this was lie. Wendy wasn’t going away for a week. She was going away.