Now and Then

by Mary O'Sullivan

  Just as I stood up to follow her she came in the kitchen door, a brandy snifter in her hand.

  “Here,” she said, placing the glass in front of me. “I found a bottle of brandy in your sitting room. Drink up. You need it. And then you must get some sleep.”

  “Mags, I’m so sorry. You must be exhausted and anxious to get back to Claire. Apologies for delaying you and many, many thanks for your help. I don’t know what I would have done without you.”

  “Go to bed, Leah. I’m not leaving until I know you’re alright. I’ll stay and look after the children’s breakfast in the morning.”

  “What about Claire? She needs you.”

  Mags laughed. A roguish sound I had not heard from her before.

  “No, Leah. The truth is that I need to be needed. She needs independence. She and I know the score and we’ll deal with it when we’re ready. I’ll get myself a blanket from the hot press and curl up on the couch.”

  “But, Mags, at least let me get –”

  “Off to bed with you now, Leah. This minute.”

  Too traumatised to argue, I hugged her and shuffled to the bedroom. Not bothering to undress, I threw myself on the bed, my head on Ben’s pillow. I buried my face in the scent of him and breathed him in.

  In seconds I passed from consciousness into deep sleep.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  I spent the first few seconds of waking wondering what day it was and why I was lying here when there were chinks of light seeping through the curtains. I could hear the children in the kitchen. They were laughing – even solemn little Rob. Images began to emerge. Horrific scenes. Ben in the ambulance, ashen-faced, ice-cold, wet. Ben lying in a hospital bed, still ashen-faced, monitored by a bank of machines, his every heartbeat echoed in an electronic beep.

  I jumped out of bed and grabbed my phone from the bedside locker. It was quarter to nine. There were no missed calls. I rang the hospital and asked to be put through to Intensive Care. While I waited I found my dressing gown and wrapped myself in its warmth. I shivered. The cold I felt came from inside, stoked by fear and my insidious guilt.

  “Good morning. Intensive Care. How may I help?”

  “Good morning. My name is Leah Parrish. I’m enquiring about my husband, Ben. He was admitted last night.”

  “Oh yes. Mr Parrish. He had a comfortable night. His condition is stable. The doctors will be with him shortly so we will have a more detailed report for you then.”

  “I’ll be in to see him soon. Is he awake?”

  “Not at the moment.”

  “I see. When he does wake, would you tell him, please, that I’ll be in.

  “Of course.”

  “Thank you.”

  He was comfortable. Stable. Half dead, yes. But also half alive. Thank God for half mercies.

  Face washed, teeth and hair brushed, I stared at my reflection in the mirror and test-ran a smile for the children. Despite my best efforts it looked like a grimace of pain. Which it was. Bite-sized chunks of truth and a serious expression was all I had to offer them.

  I stood behind the door jamb where I could see into the kitchen but not be seen. The table was cleared of breakfast ware. Anna and Josh sat either side of Mags Hoey and Rob sat across from her. In the centre was a little pile of playing cards.

  Anna was closely examining the cards in her hand.

  “Can you remember the game, Anna?” Mags asked. “If you have a card exactly like the one on top of the bundle in the middle of the table, then you must put your card on the bundle and shout ‘SNAP!’. Understand?”

  Anna nodded and continued to examine her cards. I noticed Rob extend his leg underneath the table in order to give Anna a hurry-up. Mags saw him about to kick and silently wagged a finger at him. That was when Anna made her move. Quick as lightning she placed a card on top of the pile, then slammed her little hand on the bundle and shouted ‘SHNAP!’ I didn’t have to pretend a smile as I walked into the kitchen.

  Mags turned to look at me, an eyebrow raised.

  “I phoned,” I said. “So far so good.”

  She stood as the children ran to me.

  “That’s great news. Coffee’s made,” she said. “I’ll do toast for you before I go.”

  I didn’t know what to say to her. How I could thank her enough? Even though she was turning my children into card sharks.

  “I play bridge on Thursday evenings,” she explained. “I always have a pack of cards in my bag. They came in handy this morning.”

  I had not known she played bridge. In fact, other than knowing that she fitted in her hairdressing job between sorting out emergencies, real or imagined, for her daughter, I knew very little about Mags Hoey.

  “I the best at Shnap!, Mom.” Anna said.

  The mini-me hopping up and down with excitement brought the second smile of the day to my face.

  “Me too,” Josh said.

  He was clinging to my leg. I put my hand down and touched his dark, silky hair, so like Ben’s.

  “Are you still tired?” Rob asked. “Mags told us she was minding us because you needed lots of sleep.”

  “I’m good, thanks,” I told him as I smiled at Mags, only now realising how strange it must have been for the children to wake up to her this morning. They had met her before, but only briefly in the salon. She must have handled the situation well. And so, obviously, had the kids. I felt proud of them.

  “Where’s Dad?”

  Rob stood directly in front of me as he asked the question. Calm. Still. Waiting for my answer.

  I jumped as the toaster popped out the two slices Mags had done for me. She put them on a plate and walked over to me.

  “You and the children need time together,” she said. “I’m going now but I’ll be back as soon as I’ve showered and organised a few bits and pieces for Claire.”

  “Mags, I can’t ask you to come back again. I couldn’t impose like that.”

  “You don’t have to ask. I’m offering. There’s somewhere you need to be today, isn’t there? Not suitable for little people.”

  I nodded. I had intended taking the children to the hospital with me because I had no alternative. I was glad to accept Mags’ very kind offer.

  “What about the salon?” she asked. “Do you need me to do anything there?”

  “I put up a notice on the door. I have the appointments book in the car. On the front seat. It’s not locked. Would you mind very much calling the people booked in for today? Just a vague illness excuse. You know yourself.”

  “Are you sick?” Rob asked, more insistently this time. “Or is Dad?”

  Mags closed the kitchen door quietly as she left.

  Now the three children were looking at me. Waiting for an answer, their eyes shadowed with worry, Josh’s bottom lip quivering with the sadness the child sensed. For me, nothing at that moment could justify what Ben had done. If only he could see his children now. How his running away was about to shatter their security.

  “Listen, guys,” I said as heartily as I could, “I’ve something very important to tell you. But first I think we should have a treat. How about I make hot chocolate and marshmallows? Then we can sit around the table and chat.”

  Anna jumped up and down. Josh let go his hold on my leg and sat up at the table. Rob stared at me, a wealth of understanding in his sad eyes. He knew. He knew the ‘something’ I needed to tell them was about Ben and was not good news.

  By the time I had the four hot drinks made, I had decided to stick with my ‘Ben fell’ story. The children would understand that. It made more sense to me too than any other reason I would not allow myself to imagine at that stage.

  The twins tucked into their drinks but Rob and I sat there without touching them. He stared at me, waiting for me to tell him the truth. To make everything in his world right again.

  “Why was Mags here this morning?” he asked.

  “Mags nice,” Anna said.

  “Nice,” Josh agreed.

  It must have been s
econds before I spoke but it felt like a lifetime as doubts and guilt paralysed my vocal chords. I was about to lie to my children. No! I was protecting them. They were just babies. But I taught them to always tell the truth. Just like Mam had taught me. So why was I lying to myself now? Why could I not admit that the life in Paircmoor I so cherished was anathema to Ben? That maybe his unhappiness had tripped him up and laid him low.

  “Mom! Why won’t you answer me?”

  There was an edge of panic in Rob’s voice.

  I reached across the table and touched his hand. “Sorry, Rob. I guess I’m still a bit tired. Okay. You all know Dad loves being out and about in the fresh air?”

  They nodded.

  “So he decided to go for a long walk last night.”

  “He was shouting,” Rob said. “He scared me.”

  And me too, I thought, as I wondered what lasting impact all this upset would have on the children. Rob in particular.

  “He was sorry, Rob. I told you it was just a silly game we were playing. Anyway, he decided to run for a while. It was very dark and windy and wet. The storm blew a big branch from a tree down on to the road. Daddy didn’t see it in the dark and he tripped over it.”

  Josh put his hand up to his mouth, covering the frothy cocoa moustache along his top lip.

  “Oh! Daddy sore!”

  I nodded. Now the story was falling into place.

  “That’s right, Josh. He was sore in his chest so the ambulance came and took him into hospital. The nurses and doctors are looking after him now.”

  They were silent, each absorbing the details at their own pace.

  “Us go to see him,” Anna said.

  I thought they probably would not be allowed into Intensive care. Besides, I would not want them to see their daddy all tubed up.

  “Not for a day or two, Anna. They are busy fixing his chest so we won’t want to get in their way. I’ll go to the hospital later to ask the doctors when we can bring Daddy home.”

  “Phone them and ask them now,” Rob said.

  There was no fooling my eldest son. Not that I wanted to dupe him. Just to protect him until we knew exactly what situation his father had landed us in. He had inherited Ben’s creativity and capacity to remove himself from the hurly-burly of daily life into a completely private space only he inhabited. But that didn’t mean that Rob was not totally aware of what was going on around him. He was an extraordinarily clever, self-sufficient, observant child, who did not take kindly to being underestimated.

  “I phoned the hospital when I got up, Rob. They said he’s sleeping now. He’s getting better but it may be a few days before he’s well enough to come home.”

  He nodded. Satisfied, I hoped.

  “Are you going to work when Mags comes back?” he asked.

  “No. Not for a few days.”

  Luckily, I would not have been working anyway for the next two days. Sunday and Monday were my days off. I just then thought of Tina and wondered if she had gone to the salon this morning. I’d have to ring her as soon as I got a chance. Another person I had let down along with the clients I had to cancel.

  I looked at the three worried little faces around the table. “I have some good news too,” I said. “Della is on her way back from America. She will be here later today.”

  As I said that, I realised I was making an assumption. Maybe Della would just visit Ben in the hospital and go straight back to Dublin without coming to Cowslip Cottage.

  Josh and Anna were clapping their hands, doubtless anticipating treats from their grandmother.

  “She will be going to the hospital to see Dad. I’m not certain she will have time to come out here too,” I explained. “Besides, she will be very tired from all the travelling.”

  “Us go see her and Daddy in the hospital,” Anna decided.

  I reached my hand across to her.

  “You’ll get to see Della. And Daddy too. But maybe not for a day or two yet. Is that alright?”

  Head to one side, mouth pursed, Anna thought about it. If she agreed, the boys would too. She nodded her approval.

  I smiled at them. “Now, do you want to have another game of Snap or will I turn on the TV for you? I know it’s not TV time but I’ll allow it for today.”

  They were off their chairs and racing towards the lounge in the blink of an eye.

  As I watched them scamper ahead of me, I knew the children and I would somehow muddle through this mess.

  What I dared not think about was whether it would be with or without my husband.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Sunday 9th December 2012

  She was leaning over him, her face lined by living. A good life, he thought, as he noted the laughter lines. He saw too the slight puckering around her lips as if she was holding in some very private sorrow. Something secret and dark that must be hidden. He met her eyes and knew she understood his pain.

  “Good morning, Ben,” she said. “How are you feeling?”

  He looked beyond her, to the curtain that was pulled around his bed, to the drip stand beside him, the various tubes and machines, and wondered if he was already dead. He remembered the cave, the white crested waves angrily pushing towards where he sat, his fear of going back to Paircmoor far greater than the fate the sea might have in store for him.

  “You’re in hospital,” she said. “You were brought to Intensive Care last night. My name is Marion. I’m Ward Sister here.”

  So, even the sea had rejected him. He had failed, yet again.

  “Can you remember how you got here?” she asked.

  He closed his eyes and looked through the darkness to last night. He remembered the cold, the wet, the despair. Then he saw Ellen Riggs. Her back was turned to him, her head bent, her hand to her mouth as if she was trying to supress a laugh. Of course she was. His adolescent crush on her was as amusing as it was pathetic. He opened his eyes in order to escape the image.

  “What day is it?” he asked.

  “Saturday.”

  Leah’s busiest day in the salon. She would be there now, colouring and cutting the old biddies’ hair, asking them where they were going on holiday, being mistress of her little hairdressing empire.

  “Your wife rang,” Marion said. “She will be in to see you later.”

  Weary, he closed his eyes again and was back in the cave. He remembered someone warm and kind singing to him. A lullaby. There had been a siren and lights and pain. Massive pain.

  And then he saw them. The three of them. Rob, Anna and Josh. Huddled together. Terrified. He wanted to ask the Marion person beside him to look after his children because their mother was at work and their father was trapped in a hell of his own making. He could neither open his eyes nor speak. He had let them down. He would always let them down. Their image faded, leaving behind a shame so deep it hit him with the force of physical pain.

  He welcomed the agony as the punishment he deserved, and welcomed his lapse into unconsciousness as the escape he craved.

  I grabbed my phone when it rang, terrified it was the hospital calling to say Ben had a relapse. That I was now a widow.

  It was Tina offering to babysit, cook, shop or help me in any way she could.

  “Thank you so much, Tina. I’m sorry I didn’t get around to contacting you sooner. I hope you didn’t go to the salon this morning.”

  “No, I didn’t. Mags rang me early to tell me Mr Parrish is in hospital. Anyway, Lady Paircmoor, sorry, I mean Mrs Henderson, rang Mom last night to tell her that you were out looking for Mr Parrish. She asked us to search around our area for him.”

  So, Viv Henderson had taken it on herself to broadcast the fact that I had lost track of my husband. Truth was, I had. I should be grateful that she had also asked people to search. I was pretty sure that by the time she was finished spreading the news the whole village was searching. And tittering.

  “I knew opening the salon today would be the last thing on your mind,” Tina added.

  She was right but at
the same time I would have to make decisions about it over the weekend. It was, after all, our sole source of income. Plus Ben’s unemployment payment, of course. That didn’t go very far on groceries for our family of five.

  “Yes, Tina, my priority now is to help Ben recover. I’ll see how he’s doing over the weekend and then decide. I’ll let you know as soon as I can. I appreciate your offer of help. Thank you.”

  After the call ended, I knew there were chores I should be doing, lists I should be making, decisions I should be taking. Even though Mags had given me the opportunity to sleep on this morning, I felt weary. It was more than physical exhaustion. I was pinned to the chair by the weight of worry. From what I could piece together, Ben had gone onto the strand, knowing the tide was on the way in. Had he deliberately put his life at risk? Why would he do that when he was so enthusiastic about going to the States to work for Hugh’s big-wig brother-in-law?

  I remembered the A&E doctor asking me last night if I had noticed any changes in Ben’s behaviour, in his mood. What she should have asked was if I had noticed him at all. I would have had to answer no. I had managed to lump him together with the children on my never-ending to-do list. Perhaps that was why he had shouted at me. His way of getting my attention. And smashing the vase? I had judged that to be a spoiled-brat tantrum. Now I wondered if I should have told Doctor Nyhan. How could I do that without admitting I had been too busy to give my husband any of my time or attention? My fault. All my fault.

  “You look sad, Mom. Are you lonely for Dad?”

  Rob had materialised in front of me. I had not heard him leave the lounge and come into the kitchen. Also my fault. More guilt.

  He came to stand beside me, which was as close as Rob usually liked to be. But this morning he moved forward to sit on my knee and put his arms around my neck.

  “I’m a little bit lonely, Rob, but I know the doctors and nurses will soon make him better. Then he’ll be home to us.”

  “I went out and looked in the broken tin.”

  Shit! He was talking about an old biscuit tin I kept for disposal of broken glass and sharps. And hand-painted vases crafted by beautiful women.