“Well no, not really,” She didn’t sound her usual chirpy self, “Actually, it’s Dorothy. I thought Michael might have told you.”
There was something in her tone that made Kate go cold.
“Oh, Kate, she’s found a lump on her breast, had the biopsy a couple of weeks ago. It’s cancer.”
“Oh no, poor Dorothy.” Poor Dorothy… and George. Yes, it made sense now, Dorothy feeling tired, the doctor’s appointments George had mentioned. She and the girls had visited again only last week, Dorothy had seemed to lack her usual spark, yet still managed to produce scones and tea with a smile. Damn! Kate felt she should have done more, offered to help. How hadn’t she noticed that something was wrong? These past few months she had been blinkered, going through her own version of hell, and hadn’t realised that other people were facing theirs, too. “How is she? Is she going to be okay?”
“Well, she seems to be coping pretty well. She had the operation yesterday. She needed a mastectomy, on the left side. They wanted to be sure they’d got it all. And she’ll have to have some chemotherapy treatments to follow it up, and probably radiotherapy, but the doctors seem fairly positive.”
“The poor love. Is she in hospital still now? I suppose she will be. Have you seen her?”
“Yeah, last night. I went with Dan. She’s down in Ashington. She seemed okay. Tired out, naturally, but you know what Dorothy’s like, putting a brave face on things.”
Yes, she was always like that. “Do you think she’d mind if I went to visit?”
“No, I’m sure she’d be pleased. I’ll tell George that I’ve seen you, that you know… I’m sure he would have told you himself soon enough. It was just the shock of it all. And I think Dorothy wanted to keep it quiet until she’d had the op.”
“Yes, of course.” It was a shock. And Michael, God yes, he’d be gutted. But why hadn’t he told her? He was just on the phone last night? He’d spoken with the girls briefly. Come to think of it, he had sounded quite subdued. Had he known when he’d dropped them off two days ago? But then, they hardly spoke nowadays, just the briefest of hellos at pick-ups, checking return times for the girls, the mere practicalities. But perhaps, knowing Dorothy, no one would have known a thing until the diagnosis was definite, until the op yesterday. She wouldn’t want to worry anyone.
“Well, I’d better get on. I’ve got to be at the dentist’s in ten minutes, a damn filling fell out… How are the girls? And you, are you getting on okay?” The unspoken lingering between them: without Michael. Why did it have to make every conversation so difficult?
“Oh, we’re okay.” In the light of Dorothy’s illness, she could hardly start complaining. “And your boys?”
“Yeah, good thanks.”
“We’ll have to meet up sometime, let them all play together,” Kate offered. It had been a bit awkward since the split, but it shouldn’t affect the children. They were cousins and playmates, after all. She felt a bit guilty now. She’d only gone round once since the break-up, it all seemed so difficult with Michael missing, but Sally had phoned for a chat a couple of times.
“Yes, we’ll do that. Sorry, but I really have to go.”
“That’s okay. You won’t want to miss your appointment. And I’ll definitely get down to the hospital to see Dorothy. Which ward is she on?”
“The general surgical. Ward 10, it is. I think visiting’s from 3:00 till 5:00 this afternoon. And she’ll probably be in for another day or so yet, if you can’t make it today.”
“Okay, thanks.” She’d get there. If she asked Mel to fetch the girls from school and nursery for her and keep them an hour or so, she could fit it in. They’d just started back and Emily was doing two full days at nursery now. Yes, that would be the best way, it wouldn’t be fair to take them with her; Dorothy might be shattered so soon after the op, and the girls would probably get upset. But she’d get there herself. She wanted to support Dorothy. Such a warm, lovely lady, who had always made Kate feel welcome in the family, even now.
“Bye then, Sally, thanks for letting me know.” Kate paused, wondering for a second if it was her place to ask any more, and Sally was obviously ready to dash, but the question burned in her mind, “How’s Michael taken it? And your Dan, of course?”
“Oh, not too badly, Kate, thanks. They’re both just a bit shocked. It was all rather out of the blue, and they’re worried too, of course.”
Should she ring Michael, see how he was? She knew how floored he would be. He had always been close to his mum. But would calling him seem strange? He had Sophie there now to comfort him, yet would she know how to deal with him? How he closed off in times of trouble, yet needed your patience and love even more.
“Look, I’ve really got to go, Kate. But give me a ring sometime.”
“Okay, will do. Take care, all of you.”
“You too.”
Her thoughts sped back to Michael. Should she phone him when she got home? He was likely to be at work. She was sure he’d be trying to carry on much as normal. Showing a calm face in the office, when inside she knew he’d be faltering.
Kate took Dorothy’s hand in her own, noticing how thin the skin there was, showing tired blue veins. Her mother-in-law looked pale, propped up on stiff white hospital pillows in a ward with five other ladies, lined up in cubicle areas separated by blue-patterned curtains. George was there by her side.
“Oh, Dorothy, I came as soon as I heard. I wish you’d have told me earlier! I could have helped. How are you?”
“Oh, I’m alright, sweetheart.” She managed a weak smile.
“At least the surgery is over,” George added, patting his wife’s hand as though he was reassuring himself more than her.
Kate’s eyes were drawn to where the dressings would be swathed across Dorothy’s chest, slightly bulky under her rose-patterned nightie, tried not to think of the scars there, the breast removed, the cruelty of cancer. She gathered herself and smiled at the weary face in the bed. This was still the same Dorothy here, her much-loved mother-in-law, who had been a friend since the day she had turned up at their house with Michael – nineteen, skinny and still at university. And they had welcomed her like the daughter they had never had.
Kate sat down on a chair the other side of the bed from George. “I’ve brought you a few things. Thought they might cheer you up a bit.” She’d dashed around the town after seeing Sally and chosen some juicy grapes and peaches, shortbread biscuits and some Crabtree and Evelyn toiletries, placing them all in a pretty pink gift bag. Then, after phoning Mel and making arrangements for the girls, she had made her way to the hospital.
Dorothy looked so pleased in the midst of her discomfort, wincing a little as she shifted to look at the gifts, that Kate wanted to hug her, for her bravery, her generous soul, but knew she couldn’t. The wound would be raw. She just squeezed the hand she held instead and held back the tears that misted in her eyes.
“That’s so kind of you, Kate. You always were such a thoughtful girl. Thank you… I was so pleased when Michael found you…” And then Dorothy stopped herself, stopped them all from revisiting the past, realising that the present had taken them all to a very different place.
George coughed and said he’d go on outside for a short while, offering to fetch them some tea or coffee on his return.
“Yes, thank you, George, I’ll have a tea,” Dorothy answered.
“Oh, yes, I’d like some tea, too. That’s if it’s alright to stay a while. You’re not too tired or anything, Dorothy?”
“Oh no, dear, the company is lovely for me. Thank you, George.” She turned to Kate again, “Well then, how are those darling girls? How’s Emily getting on at nursery doing the two full days now?”
“Oh fine, really good. She’s made some new friends this term and seems to adore the new assistant, Miss Giles.”
“Well, that’s good. Yes, that’s good.” She paused. “How’s Michael doing?” She asked kindly.
Kate hadn’t called him in the end, though
she’d wanted to, it didn’t seem right, somehow. She felt she ought to come to the hospital herself, and support Dorothy in her own way. Did Dorothy think that they still kept in touch about everything? Kate gave her mother-in-law a quizzical look. “Oh, I’m sorry, I don’t know, Dorothy. He doesn’t speak to me that much these days. Not about personal things… I heard about you being in hospital from Sally. I saw her in the town this morning.”
“Oh, I see… He did call in to see me last night. I got George to ring him yesterday after the operation. We hadn’t told anyone until we knew what we were dealing with. It might have just been a silly scare. Well, I just wondered how he was, that was all, but of course…” she let the words drift.
She was still thinking of others, worrying about her family, as she lay there so fragile herself in her hospital bed.
“Well, I’m sure he’ll be alright.” Kate replied, “He’ll just be worried about you, that’s all. As we all are.”
“Well, the doctors and nurses are very positive. I saw that Mr… Oh, what was his name? The oncologist,” She paused a moment, creasing her brow, “Powell. Yes, Mr Powell, that’s it. He was on his rounds this morning. He was the one who did the surgery – lovely man. He seemed extremely positive about everything, so I’m sure it’ll all be fine.” She patted Kate’s hand encouragingly.
“Well, that’s good news.”
“And Kate, would you be a love and keep an eye on George for me? I’m worried he’ll not be eating right. He can hardly boil himself an egg,” she chuckled. “I might be in a few days. I don’t quite know how he’ll look after himself. I think he’s going back to Daniel and Sally’s for tea tonight. At least that was the plan when she popped in yesterday. The company will do him good.”
“Well, he can call in on us anytime for meals, too, or just a cup of tea and a chat. Or I can take him something over to the house if that’s better for him.”
“Thank you, my dear. That’s very kind.”
They sat quietly for a moment or two, both deep in their own thoughts.
“This is the first time he’s had a night on his own without me since we were married,” Dorothy’s voice was fragile, “The first time in 42 years.”
Yes, they’d not long had their Ruby Wedding Anniversary. Kate remembered the party held at their house, the girls wearing deep-red velvet dresses for the occasion, which they’d loved, prancing about like mini ballerinas. Forty-two years, a proper, old-fashioned marriage, where “till death do us part” really meant it, where they stuck by each other in sickness and in health; so very evident here in this hospital. And she thought of her own sham of a marriage. Had she done enough to try and get Michael to stay, could they have done things differently, talked about their problems? Had they just let go too soon?
George came back into the ward carrying milky teas in white plastic cups, “Best I could do, ladies.”
And Kate was sure it was.
In the greyness of the tarmac car park, she spotted a figure coming towards her, head bowed, checking a mobile phone, which he held in his palm. The way he walked was familiar, so familiar. It made her heart ache, for him, for them, for his sick mother.
He looked up, realised it was her and smiled.
Kate smiled back. What else was there to do? This was no place for bitterness nor reproaches. Only metres between them now.
“Oh, hi, have you been to see her? Or… it’s nothing else?” There was a hint of panic in his tone, “Not the girls?”
“No, no, they’re fine. I was visiting Dorothy.”
“Thank you.” A mix of emotions was there in his face, which she wasn’t sure how to read, “How did she seem? Last night, she was pretty drugged up after the op. She looked so tired and frail.” He had puffy bags under his eyes, as though he hadn’t got much sleep.
“She’s okay. Being brave.”
“Uh-huh. Good.” He nodded. “That sounds good.” He seemed lost, somehow.
“And you? How are you, Michael?” Kate’s tone was warm. “I wondered about calling you as soon as I heard, but I wasn’t sure if you’d want me to.”
“Thanks. Oh, I’ve probably been better. But it’s not me I’m worried about. I just want to know she’s going to be alright,” his voice wavered.
Before she had time to think about what she was doing, she placed her arms around him and held him to her. He trembled, felt so raw there within her embrace. She could feel his heart beating through his shirt. And it felt right to be that close, so natural, despite everything, whatever had come between them, whatever the divide.
He pulled away after a few seconds, seemed a little awkward, the reality of their situation back in his mind.
“I’m okay,” he murmured, “I just need to know that Mum will be, too.” He tried to raise a smile, but it froze on his lips.
“I’m sure she will be, Michael, she’s a fighter. And she said the doctors seem really positive about her recovery.”
“That’s good. Well, I’d better go on in.”
His phone beeped in his pocket, taking his attention.
Could it be Sophie? Always there between them. But then, why shouldn’t she be ringing him, checking if he was okay?
“Yes, well I’d better get on, too. Mel’s got the girls for me. And you take care. If there’s anything I can do for your Mum, for you,” she added, her voice gentle, “Just let me know.”
“Okay, thanks. And thanks for visiting her. I’m sure she’ll have appreciated that.”
He rushed away in through the large glass doors of the hospital. Had to get away quickly. Kate had been so damned graceful there, somehow, so kind. How come she hadn’t just walked on by and ignored him after everything he’d done to her? He didn’t think he’d have handled it so well if the tables had been turned.
And memories had stirred within him from a long time ago, there in the safety of her arms, of a time when love was easy, undoubted. He felt odd – maybe his emotions were just running high, here at the hospital, his mother just diagnosed with cancer. He was just feeling vulnerable, that was it. He hadn’t felt he could bring Sophie here. It wouldn’t have been right. George and Dorothy hadn’t exactly welcomed her with open arms, the one time he’d taken her to visit them at home. They’d conceded on a cup of coffee. Not that they were rude or anything, it was more that the atmosphere was cool, the conversation stilted and over-polite. And the expression on his father’s face said it all; they weren’t happy with what Michael had done. They were from a world where marriage was for life, even when couples weren’t particularly happy – you just got on with it. And Michael knew that, in their eyes, he had let them down. It made him feel all the more nervous approaching his mother’s ward. His mobile beeped again, probably Sophie. He ignored it.
Chapter 26
Kate sat on the back step enjoying the lingering warmth of late-afternoon September sun, the same step where she had hugged herself on that cold April evening when her world had fallen apart and Michael had confessed to his affair. Months had passed and she felt so very different from that time, from the girl she was before all this. Though life still wasn’t easy, she found contentment sitting there listening to the twitter of the birds, in the delicate beauty, the scent, of a peach-pink rose in late bloom beside her.
She so hoped Dorothy would be alright. However positive they all were, you never really knew until months, years on; you were always “in remission”, never totally cured from the curse that was cancer. There was no certainty. But then, was anything ever certain in life? You could step out and be run over by a bus tomorrow, you could fall in love, conceive a child, or your husband might leave you. You just had to make the best of it, whatever life threw at you (though Kate felt as if she had recently been put in the stocks!)
But there had to be something positive, something beautiful to latch on to, and for her it had been her children, their sunny faces, their hugs, and her friends, especially Mel. Also her family, her parents and Michael’s, just thinking about them all warmed her
more than the autumn sun.
A horn honked from the road out front. The girls. They’d be back with Mel. Life went on. There’d be supper to make; something simple tonight. She knew there were chicken dippers and chips in the freezer, some peas (goodness – wouldn’t Jamie Oliver be upset). But there, she’d had a heavy day, what with the hospital visit, seeing Michael there. She had begun to cook properly again for herself and the girls these past few weeks, but one night on freezer food wouldn’t hurt.
Kate went in, leaving her half-finished mug of tea on the kitchen side, and headed for the front door. The girls poured in as soon as she opened it, followed closely by Mel’s youngest, Jack, scampering straight through with a casual “Hi, Mum” on their way to the back garden.
She smiled at Mel, “Thanks for having them. Do you want a coffee?” Kate hoped she would stay a while. She felt like some company.
“Yeah, that’d be nice.” Mel placed a hand on Kate’s shoulder, “How was she?”
“Oh, not too bad. Been through the mill, though, poor love. But she was trying to be upbeat about it all, and the doctors seem to think they have caught it early.”
“Good. Well, that sounds promising, at least.”
They were in the kitchen, sounds of children’s laughter, life-affirming, from out the back. Kate filled the kettle.
“I saw Michael there.” The words seemed significant.
“Oh, how’s he taken it?”
“Not great. He seemed in shock, to be honest. Only to be expected, really.”
“Well, I can’t imagine how awful it would be to learn that one of your parents has cancer. It’s one of your worst nightmares.”
“Yes.”
“Was he there with the poisoned one?” Mel had renamed Sophie a while ago, in defence of her friend. It made Kate smile.
“No, no, she wasn’t with him.”
“Ah. How was he with you? Was it awkward? Did you speak?”
“We met in the car park, just by chance, as I was leaving.” Kate got out the cafetière; hadn’t used it in months. A real coffee might be nice. “It was okay, actually. Fine. I just asked him how he was.” She was on the verge of telling Mel about their hug, that moment of closeness, but it felt too personal and might make it more significant than it really was, somehow. So she held back and scooped out fragrant ground coffee. “He seemed okay, just a bit low.”
The Torn Up Marriage Page 18
