Hmmm... this is the lazy writers topic idea just to get me started writing on this site.  I apologise for spelling, it may not be fantastic, but i will hopefully have filtered out all the mistakes by the time i post this. Not really sure how short or long this should be so sorry if it's the wrong length. 

All critic welcome and very much appreciated.

There are one or two things that are undoubtedly bad news, for example a police man knocking at your door or a letter from your childs teacher at school.  When the phone rings at two in the morning, unless of course you have rather inconsiderate or just plain sadistic relatives who live in a different time zone, it's not going to be good news is it?  

Gillian was someone who valued her sleep, as both a parent and a worker, relaxing morning lie ins were not on the cards very often.  Having got the children to bed she would sit at her computer and play a quick game of solitaire to wind down, maybe sip a coffee and then make her way up to bed.  Once she had taken off her make up and brushed her hair, always a bit of a task as her curly thick hair was neither compliant nor manageable, Gillian would slip into her pajamas that hadn't been washed in a week and then crawl wearily into bed.  Switching on the television, the background noise acting as some weird lullaby, Gillian would fall asleep only to wake up the next morning to get her kids up or to go to work.

Tuesday night went like any other night, Gillian had to read a story to the kids before they went to sleep and even then it was a good hour before the manic giggling stopped.  Having both kids in the same room was both an advantage and a disadvantage, yes they had one room spare (for now atleast), but there were times like this when Gillian wished she could seperate them.  Just like any small children they tended to egg each other on, encourage each other to push the boundries a little bit further until one of two things happened.  There would be a bump or a crash followed by a wimper that quickly evolved into a sob, or there would be some kind of an argument.  Eventually after her husband had retreated to his room, they had not slept in the same room for a year, Gilian was left by herself to relax, think the day over and come eleven o'clock she was more than ready to get to bed.   Gillian locked the front door and made her way upstairs, vaguely realising that the carpet covering the stairs was coming loose.  She would have to ask her husband to deal with that incase it became detached and one of the kids slipped, or tripped over the edges.

Having finished her nightly routine, Gillian flopped into her bed, shutting her eyes and letting sleep take her into it's comforting arms.  

Gillian woke with a start, the phone next to her double bed was ringing.  Fumbling around in the darkness, confused and a triffle annoyed she managed to pick up the reciever after the sixth ring.  The red numbers of her digital alarm clock read 1:58.  

"Hello?"  She croaked, her voice communicating the fact she had just been woken up.

"Hello, is this Mrs Gillian Walker?"  Said the voice on the other end.

"Yes, who is this?"  She rubbed her eyes with her non-occupied hand.  If she shut them, Gillian was sure she would stop paying attention and probably fall asleep.

"I am sorry to ring at this time Mrs Walker, my name is Doctor Philips from Queen Elizabeth hospital."  At the word hospital, any remaining sleepiness was wiped from Gillian being replaced by an alert fear.  Much like bomb or fire, the word hospital acted as a trigger for all sorts of emotions and feelings, and upon hearing it the power of speech left her.  In it's place was a hollow gripping anxiety that seized her right to the pit of her stomach.

"Your mother was brought in this evening at about 11:30 having suffered a severe heart attack, unfortunately although we managed to revive her, she had a repeat attack about an hour later.  I'm sorry Mrs Walker, but there was nothing else we could do.  I'm afraid your mother died about twenty minutes ago."

Shock. 

Gillian's mind was reeling, desperately trying to process the information it had just recieved.  For a moment she felt numb, the television suddenly seeming too loud, the colours too bright adding to her feeling of helpless bewilderment.  What?  How?  Why?

"No, it's, it's impossible."  Gillian choked on her own words, her eyes filling up.  "No.  It...it."  

Dr. Philips knew what was happening, he had been a doctor long enough and had broken the news to relatives before, the reaction patterns were all similarly structured.  Denial.

"No, i mean when?  Why didn't someone ring me?  You said she was brought in at 11:30, why wasn't i contacted then?  Maybe i could have seen her, maybe..."  Tears were rolling down her cheeks now, her breaths coming in short and irregular, incontrolable bursts.  Her fringe stuck to the moisture on her face.  "Maybe i could have seen her before..."

Anger.

"We wanted to contact you sooner but we couldn't get a hold of your details.  I am so sorry Mrs. Walker."  He tried to console, his voice brimming with concern and understanding.  On the other end of the line all he could hear was the poorly disguised sobs of Mrs. Walker.

"I...I..."  Gillian felt grief, deep seated grief.  Remorse, wishing she had been there, just five minutes would have been enough.  Just five, to tell her mother she loved her, to put closure on it, to say goodbye.  Just five minutes...  It felt as though no matter how much she cried it would never be enough, it could never possibly express how she was feeling.

"We will have someone ring you in the morning so we can arrange things.  Is there anyone else you would like us to inform?"  Dr. Philips asked, going through the normal procedure.

"No,"  Gillian took a deep breath, instilling enough strength in herself to get a few more words out.  "Can I visit her?"  Gillian's voice cracked towards the end of the sentence, forcing her to take another controlling breath and then to breathe out through slightly pursed lips.

"Of course."  Came Dr. Philip's voice.  "Anytime from 8 in the morning unless you wish to come now, which is of course also absolutely fine."  

"Thank you."  Gillian returned the recieve to it's resting place, hanging up.  In her mind she played over the past five minutes, still depserately turning the facts over in her head.  Trying to accept what she knew.  It was hard to believe that so much could have changed from just one phone call, but there was no denying it.  Things had change, in just five minutes the rest of her life had changed.  

Gillian who was sat up against the head board of the bed pulled the covers up around her, tears still glistening down her face.  As she sobbed in the darkness, her thoughts turned once again to her mother.  She could see her smiling face, her eyes that shone kindness.  When Gillian had thought just five more minutes, just five, the truth was that neither five minutes nor 24 hours would ever have been enough time for her.  She would always want just a few minutes more, just a little bit longer.  No matter how much warning Gillian had, she would still have felt as though she had been cheated.   

When telling her friends in the future she might say that the day had felt a little bit wierd, that she had somehow known that on that day her life would be altered by just one phone call in the early hours of the morning.  The truth was she hadn't known, the thought had never crossed her mind and this, Gillian knew, was what hurt the most.