Love Life

by Nancy Peach

  “That haircut was pretty bloody radical all right.”

  “And Pete hated it, d’you remember? Kept going on about my ‘raven locks’ and why had I got rid of my ‘crowning glory’?”

  “Which was of course subconsciously why you did it. Looking for an excuse to push him away.”

  “All right, Freud. What’s your point?”

  “Well, your man here, this Eddie, he sees you today with your ‘raven locks’, like, sure, it’s not beyond the realms of possibility that he simply didn’t recognise you? Seeing as last time you’d gone full Britney Spears?”

  “I hadn’t shaved it all off.”

  “No, but it was, what, an inch long? If that. You said it was really liberating, d’you remember? And it was like platinum blonde?”

  Tess smiled, reminiscing. “It was pretty fierce, wasn’t it. Roots were a bitch though.”

  “Anyways.” Kath leaned over to tickle Morris behind his ears. “All I’m saying is that you looked quite different to how you do now. And men aren’t great with faces.”

  “Men aren’t great with faces? You crack me up.” Tess laughed. “But seriously. We talked for hours. We talked all night. He’d have recognised my face, my voice, surely? I mean, if I’d meant anything to him.”

  “Ah, you’d be surprised…” Kath stretched her arms above her head in an expansive yawn. “Look,” she said. “It’s a one-night stand, that actually wasn’t even a one-night stand as such, and you’ve turned it into a grand love story in your head when maybe it wasn’t, and that’s a bit tough, but we’ve all been there, imagining Prince Charming in every frog we meet.”

  Tess snorted. “You don’t do that.”

  “No, sure. Too bloody right I don’t. But I’m not especially representative of my gender. I was meaning more that we’ve all misjudged things in the past. It’s easily done. And sounds as though this fella was quite a charmer. Knew how to make you feel special. And then you find you weren’t quite as special as you’d thought. That’s what they do, these types of blokes; it’s like their own unique skill-set.”

  Tess shrugged. “I guess. Yeah, you’re probably right.” She gathered up their plates. “He’s not so bloody charming now, though. Gave me a right earful at work. Wanted to make it absolutely clear that he didn’t want his mum in a hospice and that he had no faith whatsoever in our clinical judgement.”

  “Well, you’ve seen plenty of that kind of attitude before,” said Kath, following her out to the kitchen. “Hospices, palliative care. It does that to some people. They think it’s not like real medicine. And, you know, he’s cross, he’s upset, he’s hurt your feelings by not remembering your momentous night of romance…”

  Tess flicked Kath on the shoulder. “Oi! Don’t take the piss,” she said. But she was smiling again. “Thanks Kath,” she said over her shoulder as she went upstairs, trailed closely by Morris. “You’ve put it in perspective. Like you always do.”

  Kath held her half-empty glass aloft in a toasting gesture. “My pleasure,” she said. “And if it’s any consolation, he must be a bit of an arse not to remember a cracking babe like you.”

  Chapter Five

  The following morning after handover Tess was asked to the nurses’ station to answer a call from consultant oncologist Dr Hamilton-Jones. He informed her that he would be visiting Mrs Russell later that day at the family’s request and could she, Tess, please ensure that the patient’s paperwork was up to date before his arrival. He had the tone of a man who was used to being obeyed and his request was delivered as a command that he clearly assumed would be acted upon as a priority. Tess bristled at the other end of the phone and assured Dr Hamilton-Jones that they went to great lengths to make sure every patient’s records were updated in as timely a fashion as possible, but by this point the oncologist had hung up, evidently happy that his instructions would be carried out to the letter without any further need to engage with a mere minion from the hospice. Tess replaced the phone in its cradle with a look of incredulity. What was it with this family and their attendant male authoritarians? She felt a twinge of anxiety for Mrs Russell, who, it seemed, was in for a barrage of high-handed bullying dressed up as a consultation. She remembered the woman’s words from yesterday when she had first arrived at the hospice. It seemed she felt that some decisions were being taken out of her hands. Tess was resolute that Mrs Russell must be allowed to choose for herself, and it was her job to enable that process. She was not going to be intimidated by the domineering Dr Hamilton-Jones or allow herself to be distracted by an angry Edward Russell.

  “You, dear girl, shall be a shelter in the storm. A warrior for those who cannot defend themselves. A knight in shining—”

  “Yes, all right, Jane,” said Tess. “I get the picture.”

  In the event, she did not have to chain herself to her patient’s bed or barricade the hospice doors. The reality was much more civilised – on the surface anyway. The consultant arrived in a whirl of tailoring and self-importance. He whisked the notes into Mrs Russell’s room and raised his eyebrows a fraction as Tess followed him in, but did not openly question her presence. A few moments later Edward Russell entered the room, a similarly surprised expression on his face as he observed Tess, who was trying to look authoritative despite a slight trembling as the consultant deigned to shake her hand. Her position was further undermined by a brisk, “It seems your senior colleagues are not currently available?”

  The question was delivered with a surprised smile as if Dr Hamilton-Jones was unaware that medical staff may be occupied elsewhere and were not necessarily beholden to his own timetable.

  “He’s asking where all the proper doctors are,” the television host whispered in her ear. “To be fair, we’re all thinking the same.”

  Dr Hamilton-Jones launched into an emotive lecture on the importance of “availing ourselves of every opportunity”, “staying strong”, and “fighting the cancer”, directing his speech towards Mrs Russell and delivering it in a charming, if slightly patronising, tone. He then turned his attention to Edward and began to talk about the more experimental chemotherapy regimes available to treat cancers of this type. Throughout this part of his explanation he spoke over the bed and did not look once at Mrs Russell, discussing her cancer as if it were entirely unrelated to the woman below him.

  Edward nodded attentively as he listened to the bewildering jargon concerning technological advances, but Tess noticed the slight crinkling at the corners of his eyes as he concentrated on the doctor’s words and recognised the face of someone desperate to hear good news. The expression revealed a need for hope. The helplessness was further evident as he leaned into the side of the bed and squeezed his mother’s hand.

  “Please, Mum.” He spoke urgently, his voice breaking slightly. “It’s got to be worth a try? Please, please consider it?”

  Tess was suddenly reminded of the crumpled face of her own mother, sitting beside her granny in a scenario not unlike this, and had to swallow hard in order to dislodge the uncomfortable sensation in her throat. She had been so caught up in her own hurt feelings about Edward and his wordless rejection, but it wasn’t his fault that he couldn’t remember her. He hadn’t treated her badly. The exact opposite, in fact. He’d been the perfect gentleman that night five years ago, probably knowing that he could have taken advantage of her obvious infatuation if he’d wanted to. And so what if he’d been rude and dismissive yesterday? He didn’t owe her anything and her own feelings paled into insignificance beside this looming spectre of grief. His pain was on an entirely different scale to hers at the moment. It was swamping him, and she suddenly felt an almost overwhelming urge to reach out and touch him, to share some of this burden.

  Instead she stayed where she was, tucked in the corner, bearing witness. The oncologist diverted his gaze, clearly uncomfortable in the face of such raw emotion. He left the room, quietly murmuring that he would be available on his mobile if they had any questions, and it seemed that the combined forces of p
rofessional pressure and filial guilt won out. The decision was made for Mary Russell to be transferred back into hospital the following day and Tess assumed that Edward would disappear from her life once more, although, as the television host was at great pains to remind her, he’d never really been in her life in the first place.

  That night she called her mum. Seeing Edward and his mum had left her feeling as if she were on the brink of tears for the remainder of the day, and even though she’d seen plenty of grieving families since starting at the hospice a few weeks ago, she still wasn’t entirely comfortable in the face of it.

  “You sound a bit flat, pet. Everything okay with work? Busy is it?” She could hear her mum bustling about in the background and pictured her, phone tucked into the crook of her neck as she tidied.

  “No, Mam. Not too bad. The pace is a bit easier actually. It’s not like when I was tearing around Casualty.”

  “Ooh God, yeah, d’you remember that job? They ran you ragged. I were worried sick, every night. Thought you were going to get beaten up by some smackhead.”

  “That’s how I feel when you’re doing shifts at the off-licence.”

  “No, you don’t need worry about me, pet. For a start, our Jake’s only at the end of the phone. He’d be round the like clappers if he thought owt were kicking off. And then Big Colin’s got me back. He wouldn’t let any bugger give me aggro.”

  Tess laughed. “I’m not surprised. I don’t think even the most hardened criminal would be tempted to chance it where Big Colin’s concerned. You do know he fancies you, right?”

  “Oh, away with you, you daft mare. He knows I’m a good worker is all.”

  Tess snorted a laugh. “Knows you could run that place single-handed, more like. You still doing all the invoices for him?”

  “I enjoy it. Better than staring at bottles of Strongbow all evening and it keeps me mind ticking over. I’m not like you, love. Didn’t have the chance to put me brain to good use, did I? Not with you and Jake coming along when you did and me being on me own. I would’ve liked to have gone to college, you know. If the situation had been different, like.”

  “I know, Mam. You have mentioned it.” Tess supressed a smile. It didn’t take much to get her mother started on the injustices of life, and particularly the root of all evil: men who didn’t hang around to support their offspring. She was used to it by now, although it still hurt occasionally to hear her father dismissed as a feckless bastard. Still, it could be worse; her mother was far more scathing about Jake’s dad.

  “It’s not too late, you know,” Tess said. “You could still get into further education. They’ve got courses even for ancient people like you.”

  “Pfff. Don’t be ridiculous. Me? A student?” Tess was sure she could hear a tiny note of yearning beneath her mother’s dismissal, but she didn’t push it.

  “Anyway, I’ve got you, haven’t I? You’re the one flying the flag for higher education in this family. It makes me right proud, you know, having a daughter who’s a doctor.”

  Tess smiled and rolled her eyes which involved some fairly impressive facial gymnastics. “I know, Mam. You tell me often enough.”

  “You still keeping up with your studying, like? No distractions?”

  “Boyfriends you mean?” She thought of Ryan and his feet. “No. Nothing to worry about there.”

  “Good. More trouble than they’re worth. Bright girl like you’ll want to stay focussed. Keep your eye on your goal.”

  “I know, Mam.”

  “Like that Scott. Look how that turned out. Gay or straight, lying toads the lot of ’em. Other than our Jakey of course. Speaking of which, when are you next home? He’s missing you. We both are.”

  “I know. I spoke to him a few days ago. He’s got a new girlfriend, sounds like?”

  “Hmmm. When hasn’t he got a new lass on the go? Too handsome for his own good, that boy of mine.” There was pride mixed in with the disapproval in her voice. Jake’s endless string of girlfriends had been a source of amusement over the years and it never seemed to occur to Tess’s mum that she had one set of rules for her son and an entirely different one for her daughter.

  “I’ll be up in a week or so I reckon.”

  “You’ll be bringing that naughty Kathleen up with you?” Her mother’s voice was fond. She adored Kath and the feeling was mutual. Kath rarely saw her own parents who were back in Ireland, largely oblivious to the antics of their youngest daughter. She had often accompanied Tess on trips home during their student years.

  “I might do, although she’ll probably just try and cop off with Jake.”

  “I thought she was seeing someone now?”

  “Yeah, I was only joking. She is seeing someone. And very happy too. It’s the most settled I’ve ever seen her.”

  “Well, I’m happy for her, but it’s a shame to see that career go to waste. I’ve always thought she’d make a fine consultant doctor, that one.”

  “Mam, it is possible to have a boyfriend and climb the professional ladder. Ravi’s nothing but a support to Kath. He’s been brilliant. No complaints about her crazy hours or her, you know, erratic temperament. He’s perfect for her. And let’s face it, Kath would kick him to the kerb if he ever tried to even suggest that she rein in her ambition.”

  Tess could hear her mum pause at that. “You’re right. She’s got a good head on her shoulders. Still, give it year or two, she’ll have a toddler running about, baby on the way, and that Ravi who’s being such a support at the moment, he’ll be sniffing around the next piece of skirt. You mark my words.”

  Tess laughed in spite of herself. “There’s no persuading you, is there? All right. I’ll see when she’s next free and tempt her with a night out on the tiles in Sheffield. As long as you promise not to fill her head with stories of doomed romance.”

  Her mother chuckled good-naturedly. “I promise. And it’ll be lovely to see you whenever you can come. I miss you.”

  “I miss you too, Mam.” Tess’s voice caught in her throat for a second as an image of Edward and Mary flashed into her head. “I love you.”

  Chapter Six

  Despite receiving her treatment elsewhere, Mary continued to make use of the outpatient facilities at St Martin’s and Tess saw her a few weeks later emerging through the sliding doors of the main entrance, deep in conversation with a tiny birdlike woman who was supporting her weight on a stick.

  “Morning ladies.” Tess wandered over and greeted them both, “Lovely scarf, Deirdre,” she said to the woman with the stick, and gestured to the fabric. “Is it silk?”

  Deirdre looked pleased. “Yes, it is – a present from my granddaughter. My favourite colour, and so soft.”

  Tess rubbed the fabric between her fingers appreciatively. “You’re right, and mauve really suits you. Was it a present for any special reason, or just because she knew you’d look fabulous in it?”

  “You are sweet. Yes, it was my birthday two weeks ago. Seventy-four.”

  “Well, frankly I refuse to believe that. You look about forty.”

  Deirdre grinned and Tess turned her attention to her companion. “And Mrs Russell, it’s lovely to see you too. How have things been going? Have you both been out for one of the wellness walks?”

  “Oh, you must call me Mary,” said Mrs Russell. “Yes, Deirdre and I have been put through our paces by your physiotherapist, James.” She nudged her companion.

  “We’re both quite happy to let James put us through our paces,” Deirdre said with a giggle. “He’s very easy on the eye. I guess he works out a lot.”

  “So that’s why you’ve got your best scarf on, Deirdre! That’s outrageous. Although, you’re not wrong. Who else was in the harem today then?”

  “Pam was here for a short while,” said Deirdre. “She got as far as the flower beds which was what she wanted, to see some of the spring bulbs coming through. So nice to see the back of winter. There’s blossom on the cherry trees; new life everywhere you look. Even in a hospice garden
!” She paused, counting the other walkers off on her fingers. “Clive. He did quite well, although the wheelchair’s difficult in the mud so there was quite a lot of swearing involved. Belinda lost one of her shoes, but she didn’t seem too troubled by it. She kept tight hold of her hip flask though, you know, the one with coffee in it.” Deirdre made a noise that sounded suspiciously like ‘vodka’ as she coughed into her hand before continuing. “And William was there. Full of beans, competitive as ever – broke into a spontaneous bout of star jumps when we got to the lake, but I think he was showing off for Mary’s benefit, and he was a bit wheezy afterwards. Couldn’t talk for at least twenty minutes.”

  Mrs Russell laughed and Tess noticed that despite the new chemotherapy regime, there was more colour in her cheeks.

  “Well, I have to say, you’re both looking very invigorated. Seems the fresh air has worked wonders even if it is a bit nippy out. Nice hat, Mary,” she said. “Suits you.”

  “Thank you. Yes, I’m getting to the point where I need to start experimenting.” Mary lifted the brim of the hat in partial explanation; Tess could see a couple of patches where the hair was thinning, her pink scalp showing through.

  “I knew it was going to happen,” Mary said. “But it’s still a bit of a surprise to see huge clumps of hair falling out, blocking up the shower. Anyway, I am really looking forward to my wig fitting; Deirdre has given me plenty of ideas, some more practical than others.” She looked fondly at her new friend, “I’m not sure that the full Tina Turner would be appropriate, although I’d love to see Edward’s face if I turned up in it! Speaking of which, I think he’s waiting for me in the café. I’d better go and let him know I haven’t fallen in the lake.”

  “I’m just heading there myself,” said Tess, falling into step beside them as they walked, Deirdre fractionally slower but determined not to be left behind.