The phone rang every night at exactly 2:00 AM. We were exhausted, furiousuntil we discovered the real reason behind those calls.
After our wedding, my husband and I settled into our quiet, cosy flat in London. Life was perfect until the first eerie call shattered our peace.
At 2:00 AM, the phone blared. My husband, James, woke before me, snatched up the receiver, and his face drained of colour.
“Mum is everything alright?” he mumbled.
Her voice was barely a whisper.
“Darling, are you asleep? Is everything okay?”
It was odd, but we brushed it offperhaps she was unwell or restless. I even pitied her a little.
Then it happened again the next night. Exactly 2:00 AM. That same hushed question:
“Darling, are you asleep? I just wanted to check on you.”
Our patience frayed. We were drained, barely functioning. James struggled at work. My irritation festered.
On the third night, I snapped. “Turn the bloody phones off.” But at 2:30 AM the doorbell rang. His mother stood there in her nightdress, barefoot, utterly unapologetic.
“I couldnt reach you I panicked,” she said calmly, stepping inside.
I was livid. James, ever the dutiful son, bit his tongue. He loved her, even if this was madness.
A week passed. Dread filled us as night fell. We begged her to stop. Pleaded. Nothing worked.
Once, I shouted at her. She only smiled. When we finally learned the truth behind those calls, horror swallowed us whole.
That night, we silenced our phones again. Desperate for sleep. Braced for another knock.
But she never came. Relief washed over us. For the first time in days, I woke rested.
At midday, we decided to visit herjust to be sure she wasnt ill or upset.
The moment we opened her door, the scent hit us. There she was, slumped in her armchair, lifeless. The phone clutched in her hand. Switched off.
The coroner placed her death around 2:00 AM.
Then it struck us like lightning. The calls had stopped because she couldnt make them anymore. Shed been terrified of dying alone. And wed been too selfish to see it.
Always answer when your parents call. It might be their last.
