She loves Violet something fierce, and even through all the tantrums she’s thrown about having to sit through specialist appointments and blood tests, she’s always the one who gets the most upset when Violet has to be admitted into the hospital. She’s always the first one to notice if Violet’s colour is off, or if her breathing sounds laboured.
Having a sibling with a heart condition has taken its toll on her – it’s taken its toll on all of us if I’m being honest.
It’s not just the kids I fret about, it’s Shaun too.
I worry that I don’t give my husband sufficient attention, or that he doesn’t get enough of my time, but the reality for a lot of years has been that there just hasn’t been enough time.
That’s one of my biggest worries in life.
Time.
I’m terrified that we won’t get enough time.
Time with Violet, time together, time to really just enjoy this life we’ve been given.
We’re always waiting for more time to pass.
Always looking to the next stage, the next surgery, the next milestone…
It’s really hard to live in the moment when you have no idea how long that moment is going to last, or how many more moments like it will follow.
I do my best, but even I can’t do it all.
When Violet was younger, I wasn’t so bad, or perhaps I was just too busy to think too hard about things outside of our bubble.
But now her life is just a ‘wait and see’ game – we’re not actively doing anything new to better her condition and that’s when my mind gets the better of me.
I worry that my beautiful little girl won’t get the same things in life that her siblings will.
She really is beautiful. I know she thinks I’m just saying that because I’m her mum, but I’m not. She’s got long dark hair that thickened up after her last childhood procedure and has stayed that way ever since. Her skin has evened and smoothed out into a stunning creamy tone. She’s got deep dimples in her cheeks when she smiles, and her eyes, my goodness, those eyes, they really are something special.
All of my children have stunning, big blue eyes, but there’s just something about Violet’s that take my breath away. They shine like an aquamarine crystal and hold so much more depth than any nineteen-year-old’s should.
She’s wise beyond her years that girl, and considering we were never sure if her condition would ever allow her to reach even the ‘normal’ scale, it’s incredibly impressive that she’s turned out so well.
She’s smart, kind, compassionate and funny.
If it weren’t for her heart – I’d have very little to worry about where Violet was concerned… far less than August or Charlie. But in the same breath, I know that if it weren’t for her heart she wouldn’t be the same person she is today.
Her heart is as much a part of her as every other organ or limb, and if it weren’t for the struggles that she’s had, she might not feel empathy the way she does – or look for the good in those around her.
It might not be the life she deserves, but it’s helped shape her into the amazing young woman she is today.
Her heart owes her a lot, but I can’t help but think that maybe she owes it a little bit back in return.
Chapter Twelve
Violet
2013 (Twenty years old)
Oh. My. God.
This is bad; this is so, so bad.
There’s blood everywhere. If it weren’t for the fact that I’ve been waiting about five years for this day, I would have sworn someone had come in here and stabbed me as I slept.
I had a feeling this would be coming soon. My boobs came in about a month ago – it might sound like a weird way to explain it, but it’s how it happened. I woke up one morning and there they were, like overnight implant surgery.
They might have been about six years late in arriving, but I guess it was better late than never.
It’s yet another side effect of having a condition like HLHS – my body doesn’t know if it’s coming or going ninety percent of the time, so in turn I didn’t develop like all the other girls my age did. I’ve had a flat chest and no curves to my body for far longer than I should have.
But even though I’ve been expecting this, I still was not quite prepared for what’s happened here.
I ball up the sheets and my pyjamas as best I can, but there’s not going to be much I can do to hide this bright red mess on the trip to the laundry – hopefully Charlie has left for school already because if he sees, it’ll scar the poor boy for life.
I creep down the hallway, my crotch rustling from the huge, nappy-looking pad I’ve stuffed in my underwear.
I don’t know how much blood I was expecting, but it certainly wasn’t this much.
I manage to make it down without incident, and I stuff the sheets into the washing machine as fast as I can.
I tip half the box of washing powder in after them, because frankly, they’ll need it, before hitting start and getting the hell out of there.
I need to call Lucy and find out what on earth I’m meant to expect from this hellish ordeal. I listened in sex-education, but it’s a different story when it’s happening to you.
August would know, but even if she still lived here, which she doesn’t, I’m not sure I’d be brave enough to talk about this with her just yet.
I shut the door to my bedroom behind me and exhale an audible sigh of relief.
I feel like I’m cleaning up after a murder or something, and to be honest, I imagine the mess would be about the same.
I dial Lucy’s number and chew nervously on my fingernail as I wait for her to pick up my call.
“Good morning,” she answers cheerily.
“I’m bleeding,” I blurt out by way of hello.
“What? Are you okay? Should I call someone?”
“No, Luce… I’m bleeding.”
There’s silence for a few beats as she reads between the lines of what I’m saying.
“Ohhhhh… you mean it’s shark week?”
“Shark week is an understatement. It’s like a mass murder went down in my pants. Is it meant to be this bad?”
“How bad are we talking? Like a tablespoon… or more?”
“We’re talking like a full one-litre jug.”
“Um ew.” I can picture her screwing up her nose in disgust.
Her mum might be a nurse who deals with a lot worse than this, but Lucy didn’t get that particular gene – she’s terrible with blood.
“Right? I’m seriously concerned I’m going to bleed out.”
“Maybe it’s the blood thinners?”
I’ve already thought of that, but according to Google, the blood thinning medication I take every day shouldn’t make a difference.
“Maybe… I don’t think so though…”
“I guess it’s been brewing for twenty years, just give it a chance… I’m sure it’ll settle down.”
“I hope so, or I’ll be spending one week a month in one of these adult nappies.” I groan.
I hear her muffle a laugh.
“At least it’s finally here… now you can share my whinging about the price of tampons and getting thrush from wearing a pad.”
“That sounds like a really pleasant way to spend time,” I drawl.
“Well on the bright side, at least you’ve got a good rack now.”
I groan at her crassness, even though she technically makes a good point.
She spends the next fifteen minutes telling me all the tricks of the trade, and I resist the urge to pull out a notebook and pen and jot it all down.
There was a time when I felt embarrassed that everyone else at school had their period and I didn’t – some of the girls even got it before high school. By sixteen I think I was the only girl in my year without it, but now that it’s here, I would quite happily have put it off for another ten years – it’s far from enjoyable.
I’ve got cramping and my stomach feels bloated, my favourite sheets are probably
going to be tinted a suspicious shade of pink, and I can feel a headache coming on.
If this is what maturing is all about, then I think I’d like to stay a teenager forever, because this sucks.
I suddenly feel the need to ring my sister and apologise for not understanding why she always turned into a bitch every month – because now I get it.
I was planning to go for a walk this morning and getting on with my study this afternoon, but now all I feel like doing is lying on the couch and watching movies – I also have a sudden and desperate craving for ice cream.
I roll my eyes at myself – I’ve turned into a walking, talking cliché of a girl on her period, but that’s not going to stop me from doing it anyway.
“What’s your status on binge-watching movies and eating junk food all day?”
“That would be a positive. I’ll be over in ten. Try not to bleed out while you wait.”
“Oh, ha ha.”
I throw the phone down on the covers after she’s hung up and sit down to take stock of my life for a minute.
I might finally be classed as a woman, but having a period almost feels like another little kick in the guts.
The whole point of a menstrual cycle is so your body can figure out the best time to conceive a baby. That’s not something that’s ever going to happen for me, so the very idea of having to have a period every month seems ludicrous and frankly, a little cruel.
It seems to be a reoccurring theme in my life and as per usual, it’s not something I have an ounce of control over, so I do what I always do – push it from my mind and get on with my day.
Chapter Thirteen
Violet
Present day
I can’t recall a time where I felt quite this weak.
Everything aches, I feel dizzy, it’s hard to breathe, and of course this is the first time in ages that I’m home all alone.
Tonight’s the first time Mum and Dad have gone out in forever, so there’s no way I’m going to call them back, not even if it kills me.
I make that comment in passing, but the reality is, I actually could die.
A lot of people live by the motto that they could walk out in the street and get hit by a car any day of the week, so there’s no point in worrying about this or that… but for me there’s a number of things that not only could kill me, but that are actually waiting to do it.
I feel like a ticking time bomb most days, and right now the ticking is louder than it’s ever been.
I know it’s a warning sign for me to do something – to call someone, or to get myself to the hospital, but I’m so wary of being like Mum and overreacting that I hesitate as my finger hovers over the call button on my phone.
There’s one person I can count on not to judge me if it all turns out to be nothing at all, and that’s Lucy.
She still lives around the corner – the fact she’s a poor student who has to live at home with her mum has been a blessing to me.
I don’t know what I would have done with myself if she’d gone across the country to study.
I could have gone away to school if I’d wanted to, but truthfully, I didn’t have the desire. I’d love my own space, outside of my parent’s home, but with no degree and no money, getting my own place isn’t likely to happen anytime soon.
I know I’m stalling by thinking about living arrangements rather than making a decision about what to do, and I’m feeling even worse now than I was before.
Suddenly I’m filled with a sense of urgency that probably should have me dialling an emergency operator, but instead I slide the screen of my cell phone open and hit call on the shortcut for Lucy.
Each unanswered ring is more agonising than the last as I struggle to get enough air.
“Hey, girl, I was just about to ring you, I’m meant to be studying but it suuuuuuucks.” She drags out the word and I can feel her rolling her eyes through the phone. “You wanna go get a milkshake or something?”
“Luce…” My voice isn’t much above a whisper now, and my breathing has become incredibly laboured.
“Oh my God, Letty.” I can hear her feet slapping against the wooden floor of her house.
I don’t even need to tell her that something’s wrong, we know each other so well, it’s like we’re two halves of a whole.
I also know that I wasn’t overreacting, this is bad. It’s really, really bad. It’s all come on so quickly my head is literally spinning.
I have a feeling that this might be it… that maybe I actually might have run out of chances this time.
“I’ll be two minutes, where are you? Is anybody home?”
I try to get to my feet, but I can’t seem to manage it; all the strength has gone from my limbs.
“Just me, in my room,” I rasp as I let my body fall to my bed.
I hear her scream at someone to call an ambulance for me.
I listen as she gets into her car and slams the door closed behind her.
She’s driving now, and even in this moment of panic, I find comfort in knowing she’ll be here soon.
I can hear her mum talking – she must be with her.
That’s a smart move – Linda is a great nurse. I might actually have a chance with her here.
I’m so dizzy and I can’t seem to get enough air, but I know I have to hold on.
I can’t do this to Lucy; she shouldn’t have to be the one that watches me die.
“I’m coming, Violet. I’m coming, okay? Just hold on, I’ll be there any second, just hold on, please hold on…”
“O… K…” I drag in a deep breath that feels like razor blades, but I have to do it, Lucy needs me to hold on.
I can hear her car pull up outside.
I don’t need to tell her where the spare key is – she’s known all of this family’s secrets since she was five years old.
I can hear the rapid pace of her feet as she flies up the stairs, and also the slightly slower ones of her mum’s behind her.
With Linda on the case, there should be an ambulance on its way already.
I think maybe I can hear the siren, but I can’t be sure that it’s not just my imagination playing tricks on me.
Lucy’s hands are on my face. She’s talking to me, but I can’t find the strength to answer her.
My eyes are open. I can see her – but I’m not really seeing her.
‘Help me’ I want to scream, but nothing comes out.
***
Lucy
This is the worst day of my life.
My whole body is numb, and I can’t stop the sobs that keep ripping from my throat.
I’m so scared.
I’ve never seen a person look the way Violet did when I found her.
I don’t even know if she’s alive right now.
I’m bracing myself for that moment in the movies where a doctor comes out of a set of swinging doors and shakes their head. One of those little, almost non-movements, but you still see it – and you damn well know what it means.
That’s not going to happen. She can’t leave me.
I need her.
She’s my best friend.
I think back to when we were about eight years old. It was smack bang in between our two birthdays and we were having a joint party – it was only small, family only. We both had matching cakes – unicorns was what we were into back then, and we blew the candles out together.
I know you’re not supposed to tell anyone your wish, but that year, we did.
“What did you wish for?” I whisper to Violet.
She looks around to make sure that no one else can hear us.
“I wished that I could be like everyone else.”
Her wish makes me sad, mostly because now that she’s shared it with me, it might never come true.
“What did you wish for?” she whispers back.
I’m not worried about telling her my wish – there’s nothing that could stop it from coming true – not even whoever makes these rules.
“I wished th
at we’ll be best friends forever.”
“I’m going to go ask if they have an update.” Mum stands up from next to me and heads for the nurse’s station, pulling me from my little trip down memory lane.
She’s worked here for about twenty-five years, and if anyone can get us answers, it’s her.
I’m so grateful for my mum. If today hadn’t have been her day off, I have no doubt that Violet wouldn’t be here right now – if it had all been up to me, I hate to think what would have happened.
I panic. It’s what I do.
Thankfully, I must have inherited that gene from dead beat dad, and not my mum.
She’s so calm and in control in a crisis.
All I could do was sob uncontrollably.
Mum kept my best friend calm when I couldn’t – by the time the ambulance arrived I was so inconsolable that they weren’t sure which one of us they had been called to pick up.
I’m watching my mum as she talks yet again to another nurse at the station, she’s trying to get any scrap of information she can.
I’m searching her body language for clues so thoroughly that I don’t even notice one of the paramedics approach before he’s right there next to me.
It’s the cute one.
Yes, I might be in a total state of shock, but I’m not blind, and you’d have to be exactly that not to notice how gorgeous he is.
“How’s she doing?” he asks me. His voice is kind and genuine, and I can tell he really wants to know that she’s okay.
He holds up a blanket to me and when I don’t object he carefully spreads it over my shoulders. It’s only then that I realise I’m shaking like a leaf.
It’s incredibly sweet of him to bring it for me.
“We haven’t heard.” I can hear my voice wobbling and I know it won’t be long before I break down in tears again.
I glance back up at Mum but she doesn’t seem to be having any luck.
“Thank you… for the blanket… for keeping her alive.” That does it, the floodgates open and the tears start to fall.
Every Last Beat Page 6
