As Sick As Our Secrets

by Diane Ezzard

  More time passed. I opened my mouth to criticise the fact no one was telling us anything then I stopped short. That wouldn’t help Dad. I could only assume that no news was good news. My exhaustion was having an effect on my mood and I was feeling worse. Internally, I was insulting the nurses. I was glad I didn’t have the pressure of work to think about at the moment. Dealing with what was going on with Dad was enough.

  I remembered hearing the saying that God only gives us as much each day as we can deal with. I sometimes questioned this in the past but was glad today not to have any other distractions other than Dad’s health. He had been a stalwart in my life and a prime example of someone living life to the full, especially in his later years.

  I knew I was going to keep up my vigil until I passed out from exhaustion but I stayed slumped over his bed. I felt weary. Steph on the other hand still appeared fresh, but I knew she would be going through her own inner demons as she processed what was happening. Another thirty minutes passed, and I continued to watch.

  Suddenly, I saw a flicker of movement on Dad’s face.

  “Steph,” I whispered. She glanced over at me then down at Dad.

  “Dad, Dad,” she called. Slowly Dad’s eyes opened halfway and closed again.

  “Did you see that?” I asked. My pulse quickened, and I had an adrenalin rush.

  “Quick, get the nurse.” It was unusual for me being the one to give the orders but Steph willingly obliged and came rushing back with a nurse. The nurse took hold of his hand and began doing her own monitoring.

  “Derek, Derek,” she said and this time Dad’s eyes opened fully. He frowned and seemed confused. Words came out of his mouth but they didn’t make sense.

  “Take it easy, Derek,” the nurse said in a gentle tone.

  Dad spoke more gibberish, but I detected the word ‘where.’

  “You’re in hospital, Dad. You’ve had a heart attack but the nurses and doctors are looking after you.”

  “Is that you, Sophie?” His voice was croaky, and he looked so frail laying there. I wanted to jump up.

  “Yes and Steph’s here as well, Dad.” We both took hold of his hands and the nurse smiled at us.

  He slowly began to come round. He was shocked when he realised where he was. He said he remembered getting pain in his arm and chest but didn’t even recall phoning for the ambulance.

  He still appeared deathly pale, and I knew he wasn’t well but it was only later that we discovered exactly what had happened. Dad had phoned for an ambulance after getting massive pains in his chest and down his left arm. He knew straight away what it was. He was awake when the crew arrived but collapsed in the ambulance.

  He went into cardiac arrest nine times so now was proud of the fact he had one more life than a cat. He was whisked into surgery as soon as possible. A stent was placed in the main artery down the front of his heart which had been ninety-eight percent blocked. After the doctor spoke to both Steph and me about Dad’s condition, I lingered in the area of the nurse’s station. Steph went to sit back down. I had a question that was eating away at me. I could see they were busy but I couldn’t put it off any longer and had to ask someone. I interrupted their conversation.

  “Can I ask a question?” I asked to no one in particular. The nurse with a dark uniform and short brown curly hair spoke.

  “Yes, what do you want to know?”

  “It’s about my dad, Derek Brown.” She was watching my behaviour and could see my discomfort. My eyes were darting around at the other members of staff. I didn’t want everyone to hear. She ushered me into a side room.

  “What can I help you with, Sophie?” I was surprised she knew my name. I hadn’t been very observant when I came in so for all I knew I could have spoken to her before.

  “Could this have been brought on by recent bad news?”

  “It’s possible.” She watched as my face turned into a grimace. “But it’s likely to have been down to a number of factors from your Dad’s general health to his lifestyle.” I thought she was trying to pacify me because she could read the guilt written all over my face. It wouldn’t have mattered what she said really as I felt I knew I was guilty of causing this. I didn’t know if I’d be able to forgive myself.

  “Your dad will be given advice on how to improve his lifestyle so that this doesn’t happen again.”

  The medical professionals worked miracles on Dad. Within a day, he looked almost normal again. Unfortunately, the same couldn’t be said for me.

  Chapter 10

  SOPHIE

  I was crying out for some company. Even Charlie would have been preferable to Steph. She was staying at mine. I would normally have made sure the place was ship-shape but in view of the circumstances, hadn’t had time to clean up. Steph was a stickler for cleanliness and I had to admit that I’d not been keeping on top of things of late.

  I generally did the housework at weekends but for the last two weeks, I couldn’t be bothered. So there was a layer of dust everywhere. The carpets needed hoovering. The bathroom and kitchen were both a bit of a shambles. There was washing up still in the sink and the place was untidy. We both arrived back from the hospital together. I’d had no prior warning she was coming so hadn’t been able to do a spring clean in her honour.

  We walked through the door and she took one look at the place.

  “Oh Sophie, you’ve let things go, haven’t you?” She always called me by my full name when she was cross with me.

  “I know I’ve been too tired for housework lately.”

  “Sophie there’s only you here. The cleaning doesn’t take more than five minutes.” Her face reddened.

  “There’s Max as well.”

  “Sophie, a cat doesn’t make this much mess.” Her tone was abrupt.

  “Mine does,” I said in a whining voice. She glared at me, her lips thinned. She grimaced and shook her head.

  “Come on let’s get this place sorted. A tidy house means a tidy life.” I laughed at that. Maybe that was my problem. My life was anything but tidy. Perhaps if I paid more attention to the housework things would buck up.

  Suddenly Steph noticed the carpet in the lounge.

  “What on earth has happened here?” she screamed. I had to think on my feet. “It looks like the place has been trashed,” she continued.

  “It was Max. That’s right. Max did it. I’d not tightened the top properly on the bleach and he got hold of the bottle and wrestled with it around the room.” She frowned and her eyes narrowed. She didn’t look convinced.

  “Max?” she questioned. I didn’t answer. “Sophie, you could have killed your poor cat.”

  “I know. I’m fortunate that nothing happened to Max.” Fortunate my backside. The lies were tripping off my tongue without a care.

  “And what’s happened to your telly?”

  “Oh, the big one? That broke. I’ve not got round to replacing it yet.”

  “So haven’t you claimed for it on your insurance?” Her voice was beginning to grate on me.

  “Erm, I’m not covered.”

  “What?” Steph looked indignant.

  “I know, I didn’t read the small print. I had a rubbish policy.”

  “Well, I’d get that changed sharpish.” Her face seemed deadly serious.

  “Yeah, I’m working on it.” As if.

  “It looks different in here since the last time I came.” Her eyes were busily scanning the room. I laughed, unconvincingly.

  “Yeah, I’ve got rid of a few things.” I didn’t want to lie to Steph, but I wasn’t in the mood for giving her war and peace over my involvement with the local gangsters. I didn’t want to discuss how they came to be here in the first place. I began picking at my cuticles.

  “Sophie, stop doing that. You’ll ruin your nails.”

  “I don’t care,” I sulked. I plonked myself down and scrunched my body into the chair. Steph tutted. I closed my eyes. I’d forgotten how bossy she could be. She was controlling enough when I spoke to her over the
phone. Being in my home, it felt like she wanted to re-arrange my life for me. I didn’t like it. If I didn’t do something, I knew I was going to fall out with her. I was in no mood for cleaning now. I thought she was insane, even considering it after what we’d just been through.

  “It’s about time you got yourself a fella. You definitely need someone to look after you.” My teeth were grinding. I wasn’t ready for one of Steph’s lectures. I could feel the heat in my cheeks.

  “I’m going to get off to bed, Steph. I need a lie-down. We’ve had so little rest.”

  “Oh, okay. Yeah, it’s been a long day. Someone up there is looking after Dad. Come here.” She held her arms open wide to hug me and I hugged her back. If Steph wanted to do the tidying, she was welcome to it but I was exhausted. I could hardly keep my eyes open. Dad was stable when we left so we said we’d go back to the hospital in the morning.

  I had been walking around like a zombie for most of the day. The tiredness was debilitating but still, I had difficulty sleeping. I turned from one side to the other, thrashing my hands and feet outside the duvet cover. Eventually, sleep came and when it did it was deep.

  I woke up the next day with a massive headache and sore throat. The smell that greeted me was of cleaning products. I felt groggy from such a deep sleep. I was surprised I’d managed to get off at all but I had been up for a long time and I was so tired. The duvet was scrunched into a ball. It looked like I must have spent the night in a wrestling match. I slouched into the lounge in my dressing gown. I viewed my home. I didn’t recognise it. The place shone like a new pin. Steph was busy cleaning my windows.

  “Oh Steph, you don’t need to do that.”

  “There’s that much muck on them, they look like they haven’t been done in ages.”

  “No they’ve not but you’re my guest. You shouldn’t be doing that.”

  “I’m your big sister and it looks like you still need looking after.” She finished off what she was doing and came into the kitchen. She had ironed the pile of clothes that had been strewn over the chairs. She still had the knack of making me feel small.

  I made us both a brew, and we sat down with our hot drinks. At least I could still do something right.

  “What happened to that lovely picture you had up in the lounge?”

  “Which one do you mean?” My stomach churned as my feeling of unease went up a notch

  “You know the one of Clitheroe Castle at night. It was a limited edition wasn’t it?”

  “Oh, that old thing, I sold it at a car boot.”

  “What! Are you off your head? That’d have been worth something in a few years if you’d have kept hold of it.” I didn’t reply but let Steph continue, “I don’t know what’s got into you, Sophie. I think all that drinking you did affected your brain.” I folded my arms across my chest.

  “It probably did,” I sulked.

  “Anyone would think you were drinking again, the way you’ve let things go.”

  “Well, I’m not,” I shouted. I could feel the heat rising through my body up into my face. Why did she always have to interfere in my life?

  “You’re going to have to…”

  “I’m not going to have to do anything. Just because I made a few changes in my home, you have to criticise everything.” My neck stiffened.

  Steph went to speak, but I anticipated this and spoke first. “I’m sick of you.” My voice had gone up a couple of decibels. “I wish you could keep your nose out of other people’s business for once in your life!” I banged my empty mug on the table and stormed out of the room. I had listened to enough. I could hear Steph mumbling in the distance but I went to my bedroom to stay out of the way before I did or said something I regretted.

  I knew we were intending going over to the hospital together, but I didn’t want to be anywhere near Steph at the moment. She’d come swanning up from London with her fine home and her rich husband. She had no worries, and she didn’t have a clue about how to manage on her own. I hated criticism of any kind but coming from Steph at this time, knowing I was struggling with Dad’s illness was too much to take.

  I sat in my room sulking for a while. I didn’t know how long she was intending staying with me but as far as I was concerned, she had overstayed her welcome. I knew I had become slovenly, but I didn’t care. The worst thing was the insult that she thought I’d been drinking. I hadn’t had any alcohol in such a long time I’d forgotten how wonderful it felt to escape reality. What I wouldn’t give at that moment for oblivion.

  I could hear her still pottering around cleaning. How could she behave in such a way? I was in bits and she didn’t care about me. I cracked my knuckles. My nostrils flared. I had to put my feelings aside though and consider Dad. He was lying in a hospital bed, lucky to be alive and here was the pair of us being petty. That didn’t mean I was going to make up with Steph though. I knew I had to swallow my pride and say something because we had the journey to the hospital to do together. As it turned out, Steph took her own vehicle, and we drove to the hospital in separate cars.

  At the hospital, Dad had been moved to another ward. I snatched a chair from her and we sat across from each other. I fantasised about punching her. Dad’s condition had improved, and he had managed to eat breakfast.

  “Is everything alright with you two?” Dad frowned.

  “Yeah,” we both said in unison. Dad was surprisingly observant for someone who had just come out of intensive care.

  “Dad, I’ve got to head back down south later so I’ll be phoning every day to see how you are. I want you to do as the nurses tell you.”

  Dad put his hand up to his forehead in a salute. “Yes, Sergeant Major.” I smiled to myself. Good old Dad, he’s got Steph sussed. In view of Dad’s rapid recovery, Steph said she was going to rush off. I’d gathered as much when she said she would take her own car to the hospital. I still wasn’t speaking to her. Dad could tell that things weren’t right between us. I thought staying quiet was easier than speaking as I may have just lost my temper. I didn’t want to do that in front of Dad.

  “Dad, I’ll be here tomorrow,” I said rubbing it in as we both rose from our chairs getting ready to leave.

  We kissed Dad and said our goodbyes. I turned to wave to Dad when we reached the swinging door but it looked like he had gone off to sleep. His eyes were closed.

  We walked to the car park in silence. As Steph turned to walk towards her car, she opened her mouth to speak. I thought she was going to apologise for the way she’d been. I’d decided that if she did, I would forgive her. We could be friends and begin talking again.

  Instead, she said, “You need to see someone, Sophie. Seriously, you need help.” I swore under my breath. I frowned at her and didn’t reply. I pulled my lips together and sucked through my teeth. My eyes narrowed as I watched her walk towards the door. I let her go, and we didn’t say goodbye.

  I’d hoped that with no work to think about and the medication the doctor had given me, I would have started feeling better by now. At the moment I felt worse than ever. I hadn’t had a fall out with Steph for years. I felt a great sense of unease. She was my big sister, and I felt inferior in her company, still after all these years. I had forgotten what growing up with her was like. I hadn’t liked being dishonest.

  I suppose I didn’t want her to judge me but she did judge me. She’d always judged me and right now I didn’t like her very much. To crown it all, my sore throat was getting worse. My body was aching, and I felt lousy. Probably all the germs in that hospital.

  I felt miserable. Self-pity was consuming me. Steph irritated me and I’d had enough. I wanted out. I thought about whether I should pick something up from the chemist to help me sleep. I certainly needed something to try to ward off what was probably a cold or flu coming on. I decided to stop at the chemist to stock up on painkillers. The sense of unease I had on the way home worried me.

  I pulled up outside the pharmacy. I bit my lip as I churned over her words and behaviour over and ov
er in my head. It felt like a cuckoo clock had been planted inside my brain, going over and over what she had said and done. There was a pounding in my ears and my mouth was dry. I was still upset about what had happened to Dad, still blaming myself. His condition was still worrying me even though the consultant had said he was over the worst and he was stable.

  My negativity doubted this. I didn’t want to be left with just Steph as family. If anything happened to Dad, I felt I would have no one. I was laying it on thick, feeling sorry for myself. Being physically unwell wasn’t helping my emotional state. I was about to walk in the chemist shop when I had a thought.

  I knew what would be best for a sore throat, a whisky with hot water and lemon. I had lemons in the fridge and I didn’t like the taste of whisky so it wouldn’t be like drinking alcohol. It would be more like taking medicine and it would do me good and maybe even improve my mood. My vision clouded and my mind went blank. I’m not a violent person but what I wouldn’t do right now to beat Steph senseless. I felt edgy. My body started twitching as I opened the door of the off-licence.

  I bought a half bottle of whisky for medicinal purposes. I’d convinced myself that because I was normally repulsed by whisky that I would only be able to drink one. Something at the back of my mind thought it was not a great idea, but I dismissed that. I got in and made the drink up with hot water. It tasted rather pleasant with the lemon and it seemed to be doing my throat good. I liked how the warmth of it hit the back of my throat. Yes, it was definitely working.

  What had I been worried about? I felt the alcohol was doing such a fantastic job that I would have another, and then another. Before long I had drunk the bottle and felt I ought to go out and get more in. My brain was telling me that at this rate I would be well by morning. I went to the corner shop and bought another half bottle of whisky. This was what I’d been missing. This was what I needed to help me cope with life.