‘Darling.’ Mum squeezed my hand.
Dad patted my shoulder. I sensed my decision wouldn’t have been their choice.
‘Now for practicalities,’ Dad said. ‘I’ll speak to Daniel at the garage and lease a car for you tomorrow for as long as you’re here. We’ll sort out your driver’s license pronto, and I’ll take you shopping for a new phone.’
‘Have you enough clothes, sweetheart? Your two suitcases may not be enough.’ Mum was finding ways to help. ‘I can buy you some warm clothes, or anything else you might need.’
‘You guys are great.’ My words seemed inadequate. I held up my fingers, ticking off each item. ‘I’ll need a car. Before things escalate, I need to sort a new passport. A decent phone is essential, with internet access. More warm clothes are packed in my old bedroom. I’ll most likely be wearing jeans, t-shirts and jumpers. No new stuff needed, thanks, Mum.’
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Bianca remained in hospital for further investigations. In the wake of her admission, Dr Moore talked me in his office.
‘The results are conclusive. Your friend has multiple tumors with a poor prognosis. She has a couple of months at best. I have informed her and seen her spirit fail. My impression is she won’t fight. What a tragedy for a young mother.’
Numb, I shook my head. ‘If she’d had a fighting chance, I think she would have fought long and hard. But this? No. I’ve watched her resilient spirit evaporate in the face of such a devastating diagnosis. No, she’s letting go. In my experience that means a few weeks, not a couple of months.’
‘I understand you’ll look after her at home. It will be hard on all of you, as I’m sure you know. I believe you can give her the best care she needs. You have a well-respected reputation.’ He pulled a card from his jacket pocket. ‘I have a suggestion for you, there’s no pressure, none at all.’ His earnest eyes sought mine as he handed me the business card. ‘This is the name of a psychologist who specializes in counselling cancer patients and their families. She works wonders for the bereaved. I can highly recommend her for you, if you should need this, or for her husband, in the months after his wife has gone.’
‘Thanks, Dr Moore.’ I bowed my head. There was nothing more to say.
Blind with grief, I walked along hospital corridors, gazing unseeing as rain slashed against windows. My distorted face peered back at me. In that moment, I glimpsed a little of the hell Cal had gone through.
How different my life would be if I’d stayed in Chicago and had Christmas with Sal and Sim.
No use reflecting on what might have been.
I tucked the business card in my new purse. Eddie would need professional help more than me.
Emotions under control, I headed back to the ward.
When I could steal a moment, sometime in the dim and distant future, I’d track down Cal’s parents and ask for his contact number. As a grim winter day headed into night, I pictured him loving an Australian summer with golden beaches and bright sunshine.
✽ ✽ ✽
Eddie’s few friends rallied around in this time of crisis. An ambulance brought Bianca home for palliative care and she cheered up to see the living room had been re-organized to manage her treatment. A comfortable hospital bed had been set up and the dining room turned into a family room to give Timmy a semblance of normality in this transition phase. Flowers and cards made the grimness of her reduced circumstances more bearable. Friends and family worked in shifts to accommodate Timmy’s needs and to reduce stresses on Eddie.
A double bed in the spare bedroom would be my home for however long I would be needed. Lisa moved in at the same time. We shared the bedroom, sleeping in shifts to accommodate Bianca’s needs. On the rare occasion I glimpsed the bedroom Eddie had shared with Bianca, it looked like a tip. Dirty clothes strewn everywhere, bed in need of fresh sheets. A sour smell. Without his wife to tidy up, he’d reverted to messy.
Timmy’s bedroom was little better. I saw to that straightaway. Eddie could please himself, but Timmy needed care. Soiled diapers were tossed, clothes and bedding were washed. The smell of poop was replaced with the smell of baby powder. Teething toys and anything he stuffed into his mouth were given a thorough clean.
In spare moments, Lisa and I tackled cleaning the main bathroom. The ensuite we left to Eddie.
Bianca could only tolerate her son for minutes at a time when he was awake and fidgeting, holding him nestled against her while he slept, tears of sadness sliding down her face. I left the room frequently in this early part, leaving Eddie alone with Bianca and their growing son.
Each day brought a little less joy in her face as she watched her son sleep. Then one day, nearly three weeks after she’d come home, Bianca shook her head when Timmy’s sleeping form was placed beside her.
‘No. I’m too tired.’
Lisa bowed her head and carried him away, her quick glance at me speaking volumes of grief. She’d taken indefinite leave from work to look after Timmy, giving him essential continuity of care.
Timmy became more fractious after that, but there was nothing to be done, except distract him, cuddle him and share tears. Eddie did what he could, torn between the needs of his son and the needs of his wife.
Bianca was more wakeful during the long hours of night, when Eddie and I would take shifts. Three weeks after she’d come home, with Eddie asleep upstairs, she reached for my hand.
‘Rose. Can I tell you something?’
I pulled my chair closer.
‘Anything.’
‘I want to say sorry for everything mean thing I’ve ever done to you.’
I pressed her cold hand against my cheek. ‘You’ve led me a merry dance, haven’t you?’
She nodded with a ghost of a smile. ‘I made you so mad sometimes, but still you looked after me,’ she sighed, struggling to move a bit closer. ‘I’m glad.’
‘So am I.’
‘Why?’ Her gaunt face creased in puzzlement. ‘Whenever I did something really bad I thought for sure you’d give up on me, but you didn’t. Why?’
‘I don’t know.’ I shook my head. ‘Maybe because deep down I thought you just needed a chance, a chance to get ahead in life. Not like your mum or your brother who’ve stuffed up every chance. I might have hated you sometimes, especially last year.’ I smiled, a wry smile, receiving a ghost of a smile in return. ‘But deep down I think I cared what happened to you.’ I kissed her hand. ‘I guess I loved you like a sister, equal parts hate and love, even when you made me so mad I wanted to hurt you.’
Tears welled. ‘Thank you. If I’d had a sister like you, maybe I wouldn’t have been such a bad person.’
‘Hey,’ I whispered, ‘don’t beat yourself up so much. You’ve never been as bad as you think you were. Think about it, Bianca. Forget every mean thing that was ever said to you and think instead about all the good things people have said. Those are the messages we should listen to, not the horrible ones.’
Her face brightened. ‘That’s such a great thing to say. I do have some good memories. I know I do. Eddie loves me, even his mum and dad have learned to like me. Timmy’s wonderful. He’s the best thing that ever happened to me. And, you know, I was better at school stuff than I ever thought I could be.’ Her face dropped again. ‘I wish I could live to see Timmy grow up into a wonderful man. I’d never hit him, or neglect him. I’d be happy to sit helping with his homework. I wish I could.’ Tears rolled unheeded down her face. ‘I wish I could.’
My heart broke for her. With all my heart I wished I could make her well – even if it meant we went back to despising each other. I’d rather she lived a full life without my friendship, than this slow shuffle into despair. I held her in my arms as we both wept for all her losses.
She slept soon enough and I eased her back against the pillow.
Lisa tiptoed in, wiping away silent tears. ‘Shall I take over for a while?’
‘Thanks. I could do with a bathroom stop.’
‘And a cup of tea, I sho
uld think.’
I nodded my thanks and left her with Bianca. In the bathroom I washed my face, reflecting on the difference between Lisa now and on that godawful day when she and Bianca dumped me fourteen months ago.
Dog-tired, I lay on the spare bed, soaking up momentary peace. Had I really forgiven Bianca for everything she’d done? That Christmas shopping day still stood as a landmark of nastiness and spite. Would I ever have forgiven her? I let my mind range over the last fifteen years. Half my life had passed with her presence to some degree. Would I miss her when she was gone?
My mind balked at self-examination, but I persisted. In truth, only a small part of me would miss her. Saddened, I guessed in five years’ time she’d be no more than a distant memory. I’d never forget this, the sadness and grief, but the truth was hard, she’d never been a true friend. Part of her may have wanted my friendship, but women were her natural enemies and she did everything in her power to undermine. Grief at her passing was very real. How, I wondered, would Eddie fare?
That night marked a turning point for Bianca. After pouring out her heart to me she drifted into longer spells of sleep, stirring only when pain became too much to bear.
Andy, having stowed some of his anger towards Eddie, visited every day, checking on Bianca and supporting Eddie. He had become her part-time doctor during terminal care and prescribed hard core pain relief as the days ground by.
And the days were slow. With cold, miserable weather and short winter days it truly felt as if we were stuck in a tunnel of sadness with no light to be found. I couldn’t wish for Bianca’s death, but her slow demise was taking a toll on all of us.
My soul needed a glimmer of light.
In the first week of February, halfway down the hall, Timmy comfortable on my hip, I jumped as the doorbell rang. I swung around to open the door.
Cal stood there. My face lit up.
‘Cal! Are you ever a sight for sore eyes. What are you doing in England?’ My hands were too full to give him a hug. Timmy swiveled round to look at our visitor, his face breaking into a gummy grin.
Nonplussed, Cal glanced from me to Timmy and back again.
‘Who is it, Rose?’ Eddie’s voice got louder as he came down the hall.
Eddie materialized beside me, and draped an arm over my shoulder. I wriggled it off.
A multitude of expressions crossed Cal’s face. I detected shock – hardly surprising, also dismay, chagrin, hurt and anger before he smoothed his face into a bland expression. Oh no you don’t. I kept my eyes on his face, willing him to look at me. Don’t you dare put two and two together and make five. My ex and I have only a vague truce in the face of imminent death, nothing more.
‘Who’s this? Bloody hell, it’s that surfing dude, isn’t it? What are you doing here?’ Eddie said rudely, eyeing Cal, suspicion in his voice.
I’d never once mentioned Cal, making Eddie’s reaction understandable. Rude, though.
Responding to Cal’s shock, before he could turn tail, I transferred Timmy to his father and shooed them away.
‘Right.’ I stepped onto the porch, shutting the door in Eddie’s face. ‘Where’s your car?’
We needed to talk in private. Eddie’s house held no privacy. Cal must have driven here, and his car seemed the most logical private place.
Cal looked down at me, uncertainty holding him in place.
‘C’mon, Cal, it’s freezing out here.’
Hesitant, he made no attempt to hug me, but led me down the path muttering, ‘Typical bossy nurse.’
I hid a smirk. At least he hadn’t taken one look and stalked off without letting me explain dodgy circumstances.
I shivered in the biting cold while he unlocked the car, an antique Volvo estate that had seen better days.
‘Get in.’ His word clipped, eyes burning. He rummaged on the back seat, and yanked out a tartan blanket.
‘Sorry about the dog hairs.’ He draped the rug over me.
I glanced down and shrugged. Dog hairs coated the wool. I didn’t care, euphoric, almost tearful, to see him here.
‘Can you drive around the corner, please? Eddie will be snooping from the living room.’
Grumbling, he started the engine and did as I asked, pulling over next to a meadow gate. Against a backdrop of leaden grey skies and untidy winter-dead weeds, the scenery was plain depressing. I could only be grateful to be with Cal and away from the house of death.
‘How on earth did you find me,’ I blurted out, relieved beyond measure he’d made the effort.
‘Through your parents. I found their phone number, which believe me wasn’t easy – no-one wants to give up private details of a high court judge. I eventually tracked them down through your mother’s publisher and called from Sydney. I spoke to your mum. She was most reluctant to tell me anything, despite my many charms.’
I giggled. He returned my laughter with a wry smile.
‘I told her I hadn’t heard from you in a month, worried something had happened. She told me where you were, but didn’t tell me why. What’s going on? Why are you living with him?’
Where to start?
‘It’s a disaster.’ I burst into tears, hands flying up to hide my face.
I heard a muffled curse. The next moment he pulled me awkwardly against his shoulder. Cars are not great for hugging.
‘You’re supposed to be in Vermont,’ he said, voice gentle, resting his head against mine.
‘You’re supposed to be in Australia,’ I countered.
‘Mm, hmm. Neither of us are where we should be, but why didn’t you let me know?’
‘I’m so sorry,’ I mumbled against his shoulder. ‘My handbag was stolen, along with everything in it, including my phone. It had your number and Leah’s, in fact, everyone’s numbers. I never thought to write them down somewhere else. It’s been a nightmare stopping my credit card, getting replacements for everything and dealing with everything else that’s going on.’
An inadequate explanation needed elaboration.
‘I’ve been meaning to contact your parents to see if they’d give me your number, or Leah’s, but it’s been frantic the last few weeks.’
‘Tell me.’
I leaned away to look at him. He looked tired, exhausted.
‘Cal, did you just get off a plane?’ I asked, voice sharp.
He nodded, rubbing his eyes. ‘This morning.’
‘Are you nuts? Whose car is this?’
‘Mum’s. She wasn’t impressed to lend it to me at such short notice. She’s borrowed Dad’s car. He’s going to walk everywhere today or cadge a lift.’
‘So, you went straight home and then drove over here?’ He nodded. ‘Cal, your place is nearly eighty miles away on country roads.’ I scolded him, while his lips twitched and he mumbled something about bossy nurses again.
I wasn’t kidding, though. Country roads at this time of year are no fun to maneuver, with black ice and freezing temperatures. Despite exasperation, a bigger part of me was impressed. He really wanted to see me. I snuggled into his shoulder again.
‘You know,’ I said. ‘This is really uncomfortable. How about I grab my coat and we find a cafe for coffee and early lunch?’
‘I’m starving,’ he announced. The coolness had gone, replaced by a more cheerful Cal.
‘I’ll just bet you haven’t eaten breakfast, you numpty,’ I muttered as he turned the car around and drove back. I climbed out. ‘I’ll be quick.’
Wrapping my arms around me to keep warm, I scurried into the house, returning to the car inside three minutes, wearing coat, hat and scarf. I had to tell Eddie where to shove his inquisitive nose.
‘Was that your home when you were married?’ Cal asked, as I strapped into the passenger seat.
‘Yes. I didn’t dream I’d ever be back inside it again.’ I waved to Eddie, standing at the living room window, rubbernecking.
‘Do you mind telling me just what the hell is going on?’
‘All in good time. This needs face-
to-face conversation.’ I crossed my arms. ‘Besides, I’m a tiny bit peeved with you for summing up and coming to the wrong conclusion when you landed on the doorstep just now.’
‘Give me patience,’ he muttered. However, he said it with a smile.
We were soon seated at a charming little cafe at the local shopping center. They make an excellent hot chocolate. He waited, patience tried, as we were seated, presented with menus and selected lunch, lips compressed and fingers tapping on the table.
‘Fire away,’ he said, when we were settled. ‘What are you doing here and why on earth are you with Eddie.’
I looked down, holding back ready tears. My fingers doodled circles on the tablecloth. Finally, I looked up. ‘First of all, I’m not with Eddie, but I am currently living there.’
Unimpressed, he waited.
‘It’s simple. Bianca has cancer and doesn’t have long to live.’ I swallowed, throat constricting. I shook my head, speechless. His hands covered mine.
‘You’re looking after her, aren’t you?’ he said, voice low. ‘Until the end?’
‘Yes,’ I whispered.
‘How long?’ He leaned closer, eyes serious.
‘Maybe two weeks, maybe longer. It’s hard to tell.’
‘I’m so sorry.’ He squeezed my hands. ‘Poor Bianca. Oh God, poor little baby. How’s Eddie coping?’
‘Not so well. I don’t think it’s actually sunk in that he’s about to lose his wife. God knows what his plans are for little Timmy, because I don’t think he’s thought far ahead yet.’ I sighed. ‘Death is so horrible. Sorry, I don’t need to tell you that.’
He closed his eyes and I knew he understood. He smiled. ‘Typical Rose, doing what’s best for everyone else. How are you coping?’
I sat back, sagging in my seat. ‘I’m managing.’
‘Are you eating properly?’
‘That I can honestly say isn’t a problem. Although, I don’t have much of an appetite. People have been so kind. We have lasagnas stacked high in the freezer. It’ll probably be years before I can face another one. We’ve had fish pies and casseroles galore from neighbors and friends, and Eddie’s mum comes in three times a week to cook a hot dinner. We’re not starving. Bianca’s not eating much, of course. I’ve been managing to get a bit of soup into her until today, now we’re down to just jelly, and any day now she’s going to stop eating.’
Promises Made- Promises Kept Page 35
