Now and Then

by Mary O'Sullivan

  She took a deep breath. I gripped the arms of my chair.

  “Your husband’s body temperature is no longer at a critical level. He responded well to the treatment.”

  I felt myself go weak as relief swept through me. He was still alive. I should have known he would battle through for the children. For me.

  Doctor Nyhan was watching me closely. I sensed the but she had not spoken.

  “Will he suffer after-effects from the cold? Permanent damage?”

  “We’ll be holding on to him for a little while yet, Mrs Parrish.”

  “Leah.”

  “Right. Leah, as we were moving him from Resus, your husband suffered a mild heart attack.”

  She held her hand up as I half rose from my seat.

  “He’s stable now. Luckily we were there to give him immediate attention. But of course we need to monitor him and follow up with more tests.”

  God! What had he done? Damaged his own heart and broken mine? Just because Ellen bloody Riggs had bruised his ego. I felt anger sweep my relief away.

  “The incident, Leah. Do you know what happened?”

  I noted that she had not said accident.

  “All I know, Doctor Nyhan, is what the ambulance crew told me. Apparently Ben was rescued from a cave so I assume he was sheltering there waiting for the tide to turn.”

  “I see. We won’t be able to talk to Ben himself for a while yet so it would be helpful if you could fill us in on a few details.”

  I nodded. That was what wives were for. Even angry ones.

  “Your husband is not on any prescribed medication that you know of?”

  What an odd question. Did she think he popped pills behind my back?

  “He is not.”

  “What has his mood been like lately? Did you notice any change in his behaviour?”

  Ben had been moody of late but that was nothing new.

  “No. He’s been the same as usual.”

  “Any change in his sleep pattern that you noticed? Or in his eating habits?”

  I supposed that Ben sleeping on a chair in the twins’ room could be regarded as a change. Going out in a violent storm and onto the beach in full tide was definitely novel. Probably because of Ellen Riggs. But that was between my husband and me.

  “He’s eating normally,” I said. “While I’m there anyway. The past few years have not been easy for either of us. I’m the wage-earner now and he can find that difficult at times.”

  “Hmm.”

  She made that sound as if she understood. How could she? What would she know about the sheer horror of losing a whole way of life?

  “When can I see him”?

  She stood up.

  “I’ll take you to him. We’ve moved him to the Intensive Care Unit. He’s sedated so you probably won’t be able to talk to him. Follow me.”

  Lights were dimmer and voices more hushed in the coronary care unit. Doctor Nyhan led me towards a corner bed where a nurse was checking a battery of instruments, wires and tubes. They were all attached to the man lying in the bed. Still as death.

  The nurse and doctor were talking. I didn’t hear them. I could not take my eyes off Ben’s face. It was bloodless. More drawn than it had been when last I saw him. But he looked peaceful. Wiped clean of stress. Maybe it was still reflected in his closed eyes. They were so expressive, Ben’s dark brown eyes. It was easy to read his mood in them. I longed for him to raise his eyelids and look at me. With love, like he used to do.

  I leaned over him and kissed his forehead. His skin felt cold.

  “I love you, Ben,” I whispered.

  I took his hand in mine. His fingers were limp and cold. I listened to the machines that were keeping him alive beep and click and willed him to bring himself back from wherever he was. From his place of peace. I put my mouth close to his ear.

  “We need you,” I said. “Rob and the twins and me. You must get better. We all love you.”

  I felt a tap on my shoulder. I straightened up to see Doctor Nyhan.

  “I’m going off duty, Leah. I’d advise you to go home too and get some rest. Ben is doing well now.”

  “Really? He looks so ill.”

  “He’s been through a big ordeal. So have you. We’ll be monitoring him closely and will let you know immediately if there is any change.”

  “Thank you, Doctor Nyhan. Thank you so much.”

  She smiled a very tired smile and then walked away.

  When I turned back to Ben, his eyelids were flickering. They opened and looked directly at me. I knew by the blankness in his eyes that he did not really see me at all. He seemed to be looking inwards. Maybe towards the people he loved most. His children. His mother. Perhaps Ellen Riggs. I had reached the point of pain saturation.

  “Your mother,” I said. “She’s on her way. She’ll be here as soon as she can.”

  I thought a saw a flicker of light in his eyes. The lids drooped again and he went back to wherever he had been hiding in his semi-conscious state.

  I checked that the duty nurse had my phone number. Just in case. Then I walked out of the Intensive Care ward.

  Outside I went to the taxi rank and got into the first car in line. I sat into the back seat and gave him directions to my hair salon. Then I realised that it would be a very expensive fare to Paircmoor. I checked my bag and saw that I had money from the salon there. I would use that and balance the books later.

  As the lights of the town faded and the car headed out the rural roads, I laid my head against the back of the seat and closed my eyes. Maybe the taxi driver saw the tears trickle down my face. I no longer cared.

  I dried my tears as the salon neared. I ran in and wrote a quick notice in black marker.

  Closed due to illness.

  Apologies for any inconvenience.

  I stuck it inside the glass panel of the door. Let people make what they would of it. I jumped when the blasted cuckoo clock started squawking. Three o’clock in the morning. Bloody Della and her screechy clock. Bloody Della and her dependent son. I grabbed the appointments book, quickly locked up and got back into the taxi.

  “The coast road, please. I must collect my car along the way,” I told the driver who did not raise an eyebrow.

  I was grateful for his silence. As I was for the help of the people who had called the emergency services for Ben. Likewise the paramedics and the medical team in the hospital. I was grateful also to Mags for minding the children. I was so overcome by gratitude at that point that I even appreciated his mother trying to get back to him as soon as possible.

  As the taxi drove through the dark towards my scraped and possibly dented car, a horrible suspicion insinuated itself into my thinking. Ben would not be grateful. Surviving could not have been the outcome he had wanted when he had run off into the storm and onto the strand at full tide.

  Because I could not allow any more pain into this already hellish night, I pushed the unacceptable thought aside, paid the taxi fare and drove my miraculously undamaged car back to Cowslip Cottage.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Traffic was heavy as Della and Hugh headed towards San Francisco airport. Hugh swerved from one lane to another and passed everything in sight. Della knew time was tight to catch the flight to Dublin she had been lucky enough to get. She also knew from experience that asking her eldest son to slow down would automatically result in him putting his foot more firmly on the accelerator. She noticed his knuckles were white as he gripped the steering wheel.

  “Okay, Hugh. We need to talk. Of course you’re worried about Ben. I understand that. What I don’t know is why you’re so angry. Or who you’re angry with. Tell me.”

  He continued to stare straight ahead, as if he had not heard her.

  She tried again.

  “Why did you tell Piper that Ben had a car accident when you know that’s not true?”

  “That’s rich coming from you, Mum. Don’t pretend you wanted me to tell her the truth. You started this farce. Ben spent three mo
nths in boarding school, and then decided he didn’t like it. Isn’t that what you said so often that even the family came to believe it?”

  Della leaned back against the headrest and closed her eyes. Yes, she had come up with the boarding-school idea. The alternative was to brand Ben, then teenaged, as a psychiatric patient. She had brought him to the Booly Clinic. A place where troubled people, with the financial resources, went to have their problems treated in privacy. She had been right, hadn’t she? Until now. She opened her eyes as the car made yet another acceleration and swerve.

  “I did what was best for Ben,” she said. “He was only sixteen. He needed to be protected.”

  “He needed support, for Christ’s sake! He needed his family to accept him as he was, depression, suicide attempts and all. And the same is true now.”

  “Isn’t that what we did, Hugh? He got the best care. Look how he put it behind him and got on with his life.”

  “You think?”

  What could she say? Ben had gone on to qualify as an architect, have a successful career until circumstances outside his control took it away from him. He was a husband and father. A wonderful dad. So yes, she did believe she had made the right decision for him all those years ago.

  “You should have told Leah about his history,” Hugh said. “His wife had a right to know.”

  Della made her ladylike version of a derisive snort.

  “You think she would have understood? Or that she would have been able to keep the information private. You know what she’s like, Hugh. Mouth Almighty.”

  “You’ve always been unfair to her, Mum. Nor have you ever let go your hold on Ben.”

  “Goodness, Hugh. I never would have guessed you held your sister-in-law in such high regard.”

  He was silent then, concentrating on turning off on to the airport access road and finding a space in the short-stay car park near the International Terminal.

  In the terminal they headed towards gates 91-102.

  On reaching it, Della turned to her son.

  “Thank you, Hugh. I’ll contact you as soon as I’ve seen Ben.”

  “You must tell the hospital,” he said. “About Ben’s previous suicide attempts. They need to know. So does Leah.”

  Della took her luggage from him. He looked at her and for the first time noticed signs of frailty in his mother. Her skin seemed thinner, her posture less assured.

  “You don’t know, Hugh. Maybe he really did have an accident this time. No point in dragging up the past unnecessarily.”

  “Come on! Why was he at the sea, in the dark, during a storm? A familiar pattern. At best his judgement was badly skewed. He needs help.”

  “He’ll be better when he gets here to the States. When he’s working again.”

  “Mum! You know that’s only a very outside chance. I explained to you that there are no promises. Zach is a tough operator. He didn’t make his billions by being a soft touch. Don’t go giving Ben and Leah false hope.”

  “But he’s a good architect. He’d be an asset to –”

  Hugh caught her elbow and led her towards the gates.

  “You’d better go, Mum. Time’s pushing on. Let me know when you’ve seen Ben. The hospital wouldn’t give me any details on the phone. Keep in touch. I’ll be there if you need me.”

  She offered her cheek for a dutiful kiss.

  Hugh watched her go, head held high, and wished that he had spoken more kindly to her. Told her he loved her. Heard her say she loved him. By moving to his right, he could see her walking down the long corridor. Elegant, proud, still beautiful.

  He waited for her to turn around. To wave. To smile. To indicate that he meant as much to her as Ben did.

  She turned a corner and went out of sight.

  Hugh turned his back and tried to put her out of mind.

  The wind had abated by the time I arrived back to Cowslip Cottage. I got out of my little car and was greeted by the fresh scent of rain-washed air and the bite of a November night.

  As I started to walk towards the cottage, my phone rang. Was it the hospital? My fingers shook when I tried to prise my phone out of the front pocket of my bag. Just as I got a grip on it, the ringing stopped. By the time I had taken it out, it was ringing again. Blind with panic, I pressed the answer icon without seeing who the caller was.

  “Leah, Della here. Any update on Ben’s condition?”

  For once, I was relieved to hear her voice.

  “Oh! Della. Thank God. I thought it was the hospital ringing.”

  “I didn’t think of the time difference. Sorry. You’re early hours of the morning there, aren’t you?”

  “No problem. I’ve just left Ben. He’s resting quite peacefully now.”

  I held my breath, waiting for her reaction and wondering if the San Francisco Parrishes had found out about Ben’s heart attack. No sense in worrying Della even more at this stage if she did not know. Especially since that situation was under control. Or so the doctor had told me.

  “I’ve got to go because my flight is boarding here in San Francisco,” she said. “I’m due to land in Dublin around one thirty in the afternoon, your time. I must call out to Howth, to my house. Hopefully I’ll be at the hospital four hours or so after that.”

  She sounded stressed. Even a bit panicky. A flash of empathy took me by surprise. She was a mother needing to be by her son’s sickbed. I understood that instinctive drive to protect your child. Even if he was in his thirties.

  “He’ll be so happy to see you, Della. So will I. Safe journey.”

  We were both silent, me with shock at meaning what I said to her, she with shock that I had spoken those words at all. She cleared her throat.

  “I’ll see you later. Try to get some rest.”

  Then she was gone, leaving me standing in the dark, feeling very much alone. I shivered at the sudden sense that the cottage was watching me. Judging. Finding me wanting as a wife, a mother. I shrugged off the silly thought and opened up the front door as quietly as possible.

  Mags was asleep on the couch, her mouth open, the remote control on her lap. The television was still on, playing a repeat afternoon show. I tiptoed down the hall to the children’s rooms, and looked in on them – first Rob, then the twins. They were tucked up and sleeping soundly. I wondered what I would tell them in the morning. How would I explain their father’s absence? Doubtless I would think of a story to satisfy them but where did that leave me and all my unanswered questions?

  I jumped as I heard footsteps behind me. Mags stood in the doorway, a finger to her lips. She waved me to follow her. In the kitchen she took charge, seating me at the table, making hot sweet tea.

  “For shock,” she said. “Drink it. By the way, I’m sorry if I interfered when I answered the call I saw on Ben’s phone tonight. It’s just that his mum had rung so often, I thought I should.”

  “That’s alright. I had been just about to ring her anyway.”

  “Good. Tell me, how is Ben? What happened to him? Why is he in hospital?”

  Why, why, why, indeed. I didn’t know, did I? Why had he smashed Ellen’s vase, why had he gone out in a storm, why had he been on the beach in high tide? Time to start the fairy tale, laced with a smidgeon of truth.

  “He’s had a heart attack, Mags.”

  “Jesus mercy! A fit young man like him! How did that happen?”

  “He’d been out jogging and unfortunately took a fall. By the time he was found he was suffering from hypothermia. He’s warmer now but the low body temperature took a toll on his heart.”

  Just as I was really getting into my story I decided to stop and think about what I was saying. I didn’t want the truth to come back and bite me. Other than the fall, the sequence of events was factual. As far as I knew.

  “Oh my God!” Mags said. “Where did he fall? Who found him?”

  I remembered what the ambulance crew had told me about the people who had rescued Ben.

  “The Sanquests. They’re the people who found h
im. They saved his life. I’ll be forever grateful to them.”

  “Vera and Walter? But they’re on the coast. What was Ben doing there on a stormy night?”

  “Running away,” I said and then began to both laugh and cry at the twists and turns of fate which had led me to this surreal moment in time when I heard the truth, the bitter, incontrovertible truth in my own glibly spoken words.

  Of course Ben had been running away. Escaping. Just as he had escaped to work when he was employed. Just as he slipped into his fantasy of a liaison with Ellen Riggs when he thought that an option. Just as he ran away into the arms of the elements tonight. He was a runner-away. A serial escape artist. And I, Leah Parrish, the practical one, the manager, the glue that held the family together, was the person from whom he was running.

  My tears were falling fast. I felt warm arms around me as Mags came to me and held me close. She stroked my hair and soothed me as sobs racked my body. The dam had burst and years upon years of suppressed or ignored hurts and rejections burst out of their hiding places, each making a mockery of my self-appointed position as perfect wife and mother. Each confirming the fact I had never wanted to acknowledge. Ben would not have married me had I not fallen pregnant with Rob when we were going out together. He had stood by me. Done the decent thing. For me and for his son. He had defied his mother and destroyed himself.

  “It’s all my fault,” I sobbed into Mags’ shoulder.

  “Hush, now. Don’t say that. Of course it’s not. That pottery woman had some part to play in this too.”

  Mags’ words made me cry even harder. So, she knew about Ellen Riggs and Ben. The whole village must know.

  Mags walked away from me and left the kitchen. I felt even more guilty then and added selfishness to my list of self-loathing. She must be exhausted and anxious to get home to her daughter and yet I was keeping her here to comfort me. No wonder she too was running away.