He was looking at me with concern. I glared back; my utter loathing must have been stamped on my face because he took a little step away, the concern giving way to surprised unease.
“You’ve got to be kidding,” I spat.
He frowned, “Kate, have I done something to upset you?”
“Upset me?” I chuckled humourlessly my eyes blazing. “What on earth would give you that idea, Carl? I know, let’s go and have a little chinwag. Hmmm, what on earth could we talk about?” I paused, pretending to think carefully, “I know, maybe we could have a little chat about Will. Compare notes, that sort of thing.”
Carl looked wary, his eyes hesitantly meeting mine. Probably worried, I thought, in case I decide to geld him with a nail file.
“What?” I continued politely, “don’t you want a nice cosy chat? Oh Carl, I was so looking forward to hearing all the gossip you must have about my husband. You two spend so much time together, what do you boys get up to?” I leaned forwards, my mouth just inches from his ear, “don’t worry,” I whispered loudly, “you won’t shock me.” I pulled my face away again, feigned interest replaced with disgust. “Come on, Carl, don’t be shy, you can share your little secret with me.”
Carl looked away, a redness tinging his cheeks. “You’ll have to speak to him.”
“What was that?” I enquired loudly. “Didn’t quite catch that.”
Carl cringed, his face was no longer red, he was now an unhealthy shade of grey. “You’ll have to speak to your husband about that. I’m sorry, Kate, it’s not my place to talk about this with you.”
“Not your place?” I stepped forward and pushed Carl roughly, “not your fucking place? I’m warning you, keep your filthy fucking hands off my husband or else …”
“Or else what?”
“Just stay away,” I snapped and shoved past him, walking briskly away.
*
Shoving open the garden gate, I winced as it smashed back against the fence, noting absently as one of the old wooden slats clattered onto the path.
“Shit!”
“Mummy? Are you okay?”
I looked down at my daughter’s upturned face and forced myself to smile. “Of course, sweetheart,” I lied between clenched teeth. “I’m fine.”
Kensie frowned and Tom looked down at the broken gate. “Mummy said a naughty word and broke that.” He pointed with his stubby finger at the wooden slat.
I pulled the door key out of my pocket and slid it into the lock. “I’ll get it fixed.” I pushed the front door open, gentler than the gate.
“Frank?” Kensie’s shocked voice made me jump and I stared down the hallway. Frank’s body was crumpled on the carpet at the bottom of the stairs.
I screamed and ran to him. “Frank? Oh, God, no. Please, Frank, wake up.” I put my hand on his shoulder, shaking him gently as tears ran down my cheeks.
“Please wake up, Frank. Don’t die, not yet … not now.”
Chapter forty four
21 February
The next few hours passed in a haze of doctors, hospital and shock; a blur of indecision and blind panic threatening to overwhelm me. Frank’s grey face haunting my every thought, my daughter’s screams echoing in my ears.
Sorting out the children had been the easy part, shepherding them out of the house after Frank was taken away and depositing them with friends for the night. Tommy had cried and clung to my leg, over and over again asking about Frank. Was he all right? Why wasn’t he moving? Would he still take them to the park tomorrow?
Breaking every speed limit I’d raced to the hospital. What if? my mind kept asking, what if?
I’d been met by Frank’s oncologist, a sorrowful, tired man, disjointed phrases and terrifying verbs falling out of his mouth.
“Alive but weak …”
“… bruising and a large laceration …”
“… not much longer now …”
“… talk some sense into him?”
My mind was whirring, confused, and I frowned. “I’m sorry? He said what?”
“I said,” the doctor replied patiently, “that Frank is determined to go home. Now. Thankfully the fall down the stairs only resulted in bruising and a superficial cut to the head, however, coupled with the advanced state of his leukaemia, the shock to his body has been great. Mrs Robson, I’m urging you to talk some sense into the man and convince him that hospital is the best place for him.”
I hesitated. Frank had anticipated this and was adamant he wanted to die in the comfort and dignity of his own home. My head was telling me to agree with the doctor, to force Frank to stay here where he could get professional care. My heart, on the other hand, didn’t agree.
“How long?” I asked bluntly.
The doctor didn’t pretend not to understand, his face clouded with professional sympathy. “A day, maybe two. He’s very sick, Mrs Robson.”
I gulped and glanced towards the closed curtains at the end of the corridor, beyond which one of my best friends lay dying. Clutching tight to the strap on my bag, I brought teary eyes back to the doctor. “Two days?”
The doctor nodded, “Mrs Robson –”
“What difference can you make?” I blurted out. “What difference would it make to his quality of life or his life expectancy if he was to remain here, in hospital?”
The doctor shrugged, “we can make him as comfortable as possible and offer him the dignity he deserves. We have the medical staff to –”
I waved my hand impatiently, “yes, yes, I know all that. But can you make him live longer? Can you extend his life to such a degree that it makes a difference to him?”
“Mrs Robson, Frank’s going to need round the clock care from now on. He won’t be able to do anything for himself. He’ll be bed-ridden.” The doctor calmly steered me towards Frank’s cubicle. “He’ll need a nurse to help him eat, wash, check medications and catheter. He’ll probably sleep a lot through weakness and pain and, eventually, he just won’t wake up.”
We reached the closed curtains and the doctor stopped, catching hold of my arm, forcing me to turn and face him, “I’m sorry to be so blunt but, I assure you, hospital is the best place for your friend.”
I smiled sadly and reached out to open the curtains. “It’s his decision, doctor,” I replied, then inclined my head in acknowledgement of what the doctor was saying, “but I’ll speak to him.”
Taking a deep breath, I gently pulled back the stain-proof curtains and stepped through. I could hear the doctor’s footsteps as he moved away, the voices of the nursing staff as they went about their jobs of saving lives.
They can’t save this one, the little voice sounded surprisingly sympathetic.
“No, they can’t,” I murmured as I stared intently at Frank’s face, a queer feeling seeping through my body. “Not any more.” I pulled the curtains closed.
“I know you’re there,” Frank’s weak voice sounded amused. “You can stop talking to yourself now and talk to me.”
I forced a smile onto my face, it was surprisingly easy. His eyes were open now, bloodshot and tired and I sat down on the bed beside him, taking his hand in mine. “Well, I get a much more intelligent conversation this way.” I replied glibly, trying not to feel the small bones of his fingers beneath the thin skin on his hand.
Frank grinned, “you always did think you were funny, woman.”
I poked him gently in the ribs. “I make a much better audience for my own stand-up comedy as well.”
“I’ll come see you any time you want to perform,” he promised, then winked. “I’ll even laugh in all the right places.”
“I’ll hold you to that,” I laughed as the tears once more threatened to flow. “Frank, I spoke to your doctor.”
Frank looked intently into my eyes. “He wants me to die in hospital.”
I nodded, not trusting myself to speak.
“What did you tell him?”
I tried unsuccessfully to clear the lump from my throat. “That I’d talk to you bu
t ultimately it’s your decision. He said you’d be confined to bed and needed a nurse. Frank, you know I’ll do anything to help you, anything at all, but –”
Frank held up his hand to stop me, the weak muscles making the limb quiver. “It’s all been arranged, Kate, don’t panic.”
“Arranged? What does that mean?”
Frank’s hand dropped back onto the bed and I automatically clutched at his fingers. “Do you remember my friend Paula? You met at the cooking demonstration last year?”
I nodded.
“Do you also remember she’s a nurse?”
My mouth dropped open, “she’s agreed to come and help?”
Frank winked and grinned, “not just a pretty face, are you. When I got back from England I discussed it with her, told her what I’d need and she offered to come and nurse me. Whenever I needed her.”
“Did you want me to call her?” I started to stand up but Frank shook his head and pulled me back.
“No, she’s already on the way, should be here in a couple of hours.” He looked shrewdly at me, “if you want to leave now I won’t hold it against you, you know.”
“What do you mean?” I frowned.
“I mean, you don’t owe me anything. It’s going to be tough, the doctor was right, so if you want to leave –”
“I’m not going anywhere,” I squeezed his fingers, “so I don’t want to hear any such rubbish again, is that clear.”
“Yes, mum,” Frank sounded suitably reprimanded.
“I’ll go get the doctor.” I stood and planted a gentle kiss on his forehead.
Frank nodded, “thanks.” He paused, “Kate? Thank you, for everything.”
I smiled, finally allowing the tear that had been threatening to trickle down my cheek. “I wouldn’t be anywhere else or with any one else,” I whispered and, blowing him a kiss, I flung open the curtains and disappeared.
Chapter forty five
22 February
I yawned, not bothering to cover my mouth and rubbed my eyes with my free hand. In my other hand hung the kettle, waiting for its morning drink of water. I stared at it dumbly for a moment, wondering who had put it there and why.
It had been a very long night.
“The water goes in the hole at the top.”
I jumped, I hadn’t even heard Paula come in. Turning towards the exhausted woman I smiled. “You look terrible, sit down, I’ll put the kettle on.”
Paula grunted in thanks with a scrape of wooden chair legs on tiles. Quickly making us both a coffee, I carried the steaming cups over to the table.
“How is he?”
Paula shrugged, “as well as can be expected. He had a painful night, but he’s asleep now and hopefully he’ll stay that way for a while; he needs his rest.”
“Is Stuart coming down?”
“Later today.” She gave me a sideways glance, “and what about you? Will your husband be here?”
I took a deep breath, “of course not.”
Paula held out her hand and I took it reluctantly. “Kate, Frank told me everything. Your play acting at the demonstration, the night in the motel … the baby.” She looked pointedly at my swollen stomach before returning her eyes to my face. “And your husband. He also told me how wonderful you’d been through all of this.”
I bit my lip, “he’s my friend, what else could I do? I care about him too much to leave him now.”
“He’s in love with you, Kate. You know that, don’t you?”
I hesitated then nodded slowly, “I know,” I replied softly. “I love him too.”
Paula narrowed her eyes, “I believe you do, but what about your husband?”
“What about him?”
“You’re going to need him, Kate, when all this is over. You’ll need his support and this baby needs a father. Do you still love him?”
I felt my cheeks redden, embarrassed by the intimacy of the question. “Frank always said you were pushy.”
Paula grinned, “so do you?”
“Of course I do,” I replied defensively, “but it’s not that simple. There are other … unrelated issues that still need to be resolved.”
Carl, oh Carl.
I shook my head impatiently, “it’s going to take time to solve all our problems. That’s assuming they can be solved.”
Paula frowned, “sounds heavy. Do you want to talk about it?”
I shook my head, “not really.”
“Have you spoken to him since you got back from England?”
I nodded, “a couple of times. I think both of us need a bit of time to get over all the unpleasantness. I also think he’s a bit embarrassed about what happened.”
“Does he know you’re staying here with Frank?”
“No.”
“Does he know Frank’s dying?”
“I don’t think so, I haven’t told him.”
We sat in silence for a while, drinking our drinks, engrossed in our own thoughts. Finally Paula broke the silence.
“He’s very excited, you know; Frank, about the baby. Don’t let him fool you, he’s always wanted to be a father, even more so since Cassie lost their baby. It’s his one big regret, not living long enough to see the baby born.”
I sighed and stood up, picking up the empty cups and placing them on the sink, “I wish he could have too.” Hearing a noise I started towards the door, “sounds like Frank’s woken up. I’ll go, you rest for a while. I’ll come and wake you if anything happens.”
If what happens? If he dies, you mean.
I was shocked by the change in Frank’s appearance, the deterioration had been rapid and my first thought was that he’d already died, silently leaving this world while Paula and myself shared gossip in the kitchen. I held my breath and made my way slowly towards the bed, only letting out the breath when I realised Frank’s chest was still moving gently.
We took it in turns that day, to sit with him, talk to him, make him comfortable. Stuart arrived around three o’clock that afternoon, the tears in his eyes overflowing as he left Frank’s room, letting Paula take over the afternoon shift of nursing. As night drew close, I stood up and smiled gently at Stuart.
“I’ll go and relieve Paula, she’ll need her rest.”
Entering Frank’s room I quietly murmured to Paula, assuring the other woman I’d be fine until morning. I stood by Frank’s bed, looking down at the father of my baby and silently allowed myself to fall apart. Letting the tears flow until there were no more and letting the emotions take my on a roller coaster ride of sorrow and desperation. Finally, picking myself up, I sat on the chair beside the bed, and waited.
Chapter forty six
22 February
“Kate?”
The quiet voice awoke me from a light doze and I yawned, rubbing my eyes. “What time is it?”
“Close to midnight,” he paused, “I knew you’d be here tonight.”
“Why?” I leaned forwards, trying to make out his features in the deep, grey light. A crack in the curtains should have been admitting a soft moonlight glow but the night beyond the window was black, the soothing sound of rain pattering against the glass giving me the feeling of security and warmth.
“Because, Kate my eternal love, tonight is the night.”
“What night?” My fuzzy brain was taking its time waking up and I wished I was one of those people who could wake up quickly and intelligently, moments after being pulled from dream-world.
I heard Frank chuckle softly. “Tonight will be my last, Kate. Come morning, I’ll be long gone.”
I reached out to turn on the bedside lamp but was stopped by Frank’s frail grip on my arm. “Has something happened? Let me look at you. Shall I get Paula?”
“Kate, sit beside me on the bed,” he pulled me gently towards him. “I’m dying, we both know that I can count my lifespan in hours not days or weeks. I have a strong feeling that I’m not going to see another day, I won’t get to enjoy another sunrise or feel the sun warming my face. This is it for me so righ
t now, I just want you.”
Swallowing back the tears, even though he couldn’t see them, I gave his hand a soft squeeze. “Frank, I’m not going anywhere.”
“Good.” His voice was croaky, like he hadn’t used it in a while but his hand was warm, alive in my fingers. “Would you do something for me?”
“Anything. Would you like water, food, a beer?”
Frank laughed quietly, “not now, maybe later. Music is what I want; the food of love. Put on the light and over by my stereo you’ll find a CD, it’s the only one over there.” His sunken eyes gazed towards the far corner where the stereo waited.
I looked curiously at the CD Frank had requested. “Vivaldi’s Four Seasons, I love this.”
I came back to the bed, followed by the haunting sounds of Spring and looked closely at Frank. With the light on, his face was ghostly, his cheekbones standing out prominently in a fleshless, transparent face. He was watching as I stopped in front of him.
“Come here,” he whispered, “stay with me, Kate. Lie next to me and let me hold you as if everything is all right and you’re mine. Forever”
I smiled and kicked off my shoes, sliding silently into bed beside him. Reaching across, I turned off the light and kissed him lightly on the cheek before lying my head on his shoulder.
“I am yours,” I murmured back, “tonight and forever, I am yours and you are mine.” I lay my arm across his chest, feeling the steady movement of his breathing and his hand covered mine, our fingers interlocking.
“I’m frightened,” he whispered, so quietly I could almost believe he hadn’t spoken, his other hand stroking my hair. “ I don’t want to die, I don’t want to leave you.”
“Oh, Frank –”
“Hold me.” I could hear the panic in his voice. “Hold me tight, Kate, and let me love you. Let me feel my baby deep inside you and give it the strength that’s pouring out of me.”
I quickly and quietly wriggled out of my clothes, found Frank’s hand and placed it gently above my womb where the baby was bouncing happily.
Frank sucked in his breath, holding it as he moved his hand slowly across my stomach, finally letting it out as his hand stilled. “That’s my baby,” he whispered, the awe and wonder evident in his voice, “a little part of you and me, living and growing in there.”
Breach of Faith Page 20
