‘We spoke to Glyn earlier, and he indicated as much. Now tell me – is there anything, anything at all, we can do? Your mother and I may be antediluvian but we’re completely at your disposal. Diana’s waving in agreement.’
I could picture her doing so. ‘Not at the moment, thanks. Dad. Everything’s under control. Becca’s being a tower of strength.’
‘It doesn’t surprise me,’ said my father. ‘Hang on, your mother’s trying to say something – what? – oh yes, we’d like to come and see the patient. What’s the score on visiting?’
‘I believe it’s more or less any time between two and five,’ I said, ‘but it’s a bit soon at the moment – she looks and feels pretty terrible—’
‘We can take it, you know.’
‘Yes, I do know, but it would be pointless, she’ll hardly know you’re here. We’ll give you a ring tomorrow with a progress report and work out a time. You can spend the night with us.’
‘All right. Your mother’s planning some sort of extravagant surprise in the post, anyway.’
‘She’ll like that.’
‘Goodbye, Laura-lou. Chin up. Our very best love to one and all and especially Isobel.’
As I replaced the phone I saw Becca and Liam coming down the corridor.
Verity and Jasper must have stayed discreetly in the cafeteria. Liam looked absolutely white against his black donkey jacket. The skull-like haircut had grown out a bit, but the resulting spikes, combined with his hollow eyes and spectral pallor, looked like his nerve ends sticking out. I said hallo, and he glared at me briefly to establish the source of the sound, before marching past without reply.
Glyn came out of Sinead’s room. ‘Hallo, mate, she’ll be pleased you’re here.’ He turned to me. ‘Shall we find something to eat?’
We found Jasper and Verity, who had been joined by Josh, at a round table in the Plaza. It was bustling here even at eight-thirty, and the gift shop and general store were still open.
‘How was Liam on the way over?’ I asked.
Jasper looked rueful. ‘ I wouldn’t have wanted to run out of petrol. Poor chap – nothing I could say was going to make him feel any better. I gave up, and put my foot down.’
‘Don’t worry,’ said Glyn, ‘he’s always a bit like that. I think it’s good for him to have something to be highly strung about.’
‘I liked him a lot. A very genuine sort of bloke.’
‘He is.’
I turned to Josh. ‘ Thanks for dealing with the car, love.’
‘Least I could do.’ He was gruff, holding it together by the skin of his teeth.
‘You ought to get home.’
‘How is she?’
‘The same – but that nice nurse says everything’s as it should be.’
‘I wouldn’t know how nice she is – she seems a bit rough to me.’
His eyes were red. I clutched his bony wrist under the table. ‘She’s confident – she knows what she’s doing. Sinead’s in very good hands.’
‘Right.’
Verity said, ‘What do you think we can do now, to be useful? I don’t like to keep asking Becca.’
‘I’m sure there isn’t anything,’ I said. ‘You’ve both been marvellous.’
‘We’ll look in on Roberto, perhaps – what do you think?’
‘Good idea.’
She turned to her brother. ‘Fancy a lift. Josh?’
He glanced at us. ‘Do you need me?’
Glyn said, ‘You’d be surprised how much. But we won’t be too long ourselves, all right? See you back at the ranch.’
We stayed in the Plaza another twenty minutes or so, and then walked back to the ward. A composed Liam was sitting where Becca had been, holding Sinead’s hand, and Becca was rinsing out the steel bowl in the sink. She gave us a grim smile as we came in.
‘The nurse has been doing her stuff again – I have a feeling Sinead’s going to chuck up every time.’
Glyn went over to Liam and leaned on the next-door locker, talking to him quietly. Josh stood on the other side of the bed, scowling down at his niece. Becca yawned mightily, scrubbing at her face with her hands, emerging with a grin. ‘ You don’t all have to hang about, you know.’
‘We’ll go if there’s nothing else we can do,’ said Verity. ‘We thought we might call in on Roberto and Amos to say goodnight.’
‘Brilliant, thanks. I told them to ring here just before Amos goes to bed, so if they haven’t already done it, will you remind them?’
‘We will,’ confirmed Jasper, leaning across the steel bowl to kiss Becca’s cheek. ‘You’re staying here?’
‘We both are. Normally they only allow one per patient, but as there’s no one else in here at the moment I asked if Liam could stay too.’
‘Beating the system as usual, Bex,’ said Glyn fondly.
‘That’s me.’
Liam got up and came over. Quite unexpectedly he put an arm round Jasper and hugged him, administering a few quick slaps on the back as he did so. ‘Thanks for all you did, mate. I appreciate it. I was in no state to drive.’
‘My pleasure.’ Jasper returned one of the back-slaps, rather gingerly but with a good grace.
‘Now you run along,’ said Becca, taking her sister by the arm and steering her gently towards the door. ‘ Give a big kiss from me to the lads back home, and then go and tear up the town or something.’
‘I’m not sure—’ began Verity.
‘I said or something. Goodnight.’ She ushered Josh out. ‘Bye, big boy – thanks for everything.’
Glyn accompanied them to the door of the ward. I went to Sinead’s bedside and gazed down at her, then at Liam, still ashen-faced, in his chair the other side. Searching for some comfortable words, I found myself saying what everyone else had said to me: ‘It’s not as bad as it looks.’
‘I know that. My sister was knocked off her bike when she was ten. She looked like Boris Karloff for weeks.’ His lips twitched. ‘Doesn’t make it any easier, though.’
‘I’m glad you can stay here.’
‘I’d have sat in the car park all night anyway.’
I believed him.
A few minutes later Glyn got back with a carrier bag which he handed to Becca. Inside were two rounds of sandwiches, two cans of Coke, a toothbrush, a magazine for young women of independent mind, and a giant T-shirt covered in hearts.
‘Thanks, Dad.’
He shrugged. ‘Only a few unconsidered trifles – it occurred to me you hadn’t got anything here, and they were closing.’
‘I’ll get organized tomorrow.’
We said our farewells and promised to be in touch next day. In the reception area Heather was handing over to the night nurse, who looked about thirteen.
‘This is Sue,’ she said. ‘She doesn’t stand for any nonsense.’ We were now used to her little ways, and smiled, but I was glad Josh had gone.
In the corridòr between the ward and the Plaza we encounered Griggs coming the other way, carrying an armful of flowers and a silver helium balloon with ‘Get Happy’ written on it. Two student nurses walking past must have recognized him, for there was a certain amount of ill-concealed gasping and giggling. It was hard to see what all the excitement was about – he was such a regular bloke. On the other hand – I glanced at Glyn – there was nothing wrong in that.
They hailed each other like a couple of long-lost buddies, two of a kind.
‘Where’s Bex?’ asked Griggs. I didn’t know whether he’d picked up the appellation from Glyn, or if it was simply coincidence. I recalled how quickly my father’s ‘Laura-lou’ had been appropriated by Glyn. The air seemed full of signs and portents.
Glyn was giving him directions. My heart gave a sudden anxious swoop at the thought of Griggs, trailing clouds of Britpop glory and bearing gifts, coming face to face with the stressed and penniless Liam.
Maybe he caught my look – or maybe he was simply a nice man. ‘Is Sinead’s dad with them?’ he asked. We nodded anxiously. ‘I
thought he might be. I’ll sneak in and leave these at the desk.’
‘Have you just come from London?’ I asked.
‘Glasgow.’ He saw my expression. ‘It’s cool, Becca’s Mum – I didn’t have to, did I? How’s the princess?’ We told him, and he listened with severe, unblinking concentration. I had the impression he’d remember every detail.
‘Wicked shame, isn’t it?’ There was something comforting in the unflappable, formulaic quality of his comment. We agreed that it was, but that the worst was over, no matter how long the future haul.
‘Cheerio, then.’ He shook Glyn’s hand, then mine, and we watched him as he went on his way, the balloon bobbing above his head.
‘Good of him,’ I said.
‘Very.’
‘It’s a hell of a long way to come, and then not even to see Becca.’
Glyn took my hand and laced his fingers through mine. ‘He can afford it, you know.’ We hadn’t held hands like that in – oh – ages. There’ll be a record company driver sitting out there waiting for him.’
‘All the same.’
‘Yes,’ said Glyn. ‘ He’s okay, our Griggs.’
We got back at ten. Glyn arrived a couple of minutes before me because we’d had to drive home in two separate cars, but he waited outside, so we walked in together. I was glad I’d tidied the house, even if it had been a sort of madness at the time. It felt calm and welcoming – not, as I so often thought, like a collection of transit camps, but a place where life, rich and endlessly surprising, went on.
Verity was on the stairs to meet us in her bombproof nightie.
‘Hallo, how is she?’
‘Hanging in there,’ said Glyn, ‘no cause for alarm.’
Verity came down and put her arms round my neck. ‘ What an awful, awful day!’
‘Over now, though,’ I said.
She nodded against my shoulder. When she straightened up she was in command again. ‘Josh has crashed out – he left something for you on the table.’
We said goodnight to her and then went into the kitchen and poured ourselves a scotch each from the slightly dusty bottle reserved for crises and my father. I noticed our tickets for Spain, pinned to the noticeboard.
The something Josh had left for us was his holiday dissertation, contentiously entitled ‘Who Wrote Hamlet?’ Mr Collins had given him a starred A, with the comment: I’m sticking my neck out for you, Josh. Your work is highly intelligent and fresh. But if you can’t be good, be careful. Underneath this Josh had scribbled in pencil, for our benefit: He’s got to be joking. Hope all’s well at the hospital. Love, Josh.
We sat facing each other across the table, my hand in Glyn’s, resting on the essay. I could feel a warm current flowing through us, creating a circuit.
‘I tell you what,’ he said. ‘When she’s older we’ll have to tell Sinead.’
‘About what?’ I asked.
‘About the night she had her accident. And how she was the heroine of the hour.’
‘Yes.’
‘And how amazing everyone was – the whole family.’
‘They were, weren’t they …’
‘So much so that her wizened old grandparents realized they must have done something right.’
I knew now that I was going to cry – but it was a release, a letting-go, like sex. It felt wonderful. Glyn made no comment on my tears.
‘Yes.’
‘And they realized what a great team they were.’
He took my other hand in his. My husband looked every one of his fifty-one years, but in his eyes was that unquenchable spark of boyish optimism which had helped to keep the good ship Lewis afloat for over a quarter of a century.
‘You gave me everything I have,’ he said. ‘Do you know that? All this heaven and hell. I’d be nothing without you.’
‘Oh,’ I said, sniffing, ‘you don’t need me …’
‘That’s right, I don’t. Any more than you need me. But I want to be here with you. There’s nowhere I’d rather be. Got that?’
He leaned forward to kiss me and I smelt his warm whisky-breath on my face.
‘I do love you,’ I said.
‘I know that.’
‘Glyn, there’s something—’
‘I know that too.’ He kissed me again, no more than an affirmative touch of the lips. ‘But it can wait.’
‘All right.’
‘Let’s go up.’
We stood and he put his arms round me. I relaxed – it felt like the first time I’d done so in months – and felt a dart of desire pierce my dog-tiredness.
His hands moved up and down my back, remembering and reminding. I kissed his face. Just before my mouth found his, he said, ‘Welcome back.’
We turned the kitchen light off. And there, outside in the soft, untidy darkness, we saw the pale, calm glow of three white roses, blooming in the moonlight.
Chapter Twenty
‘It all goes to show – bring us another glass each, please – you never can tell. I’ve told you before, Mrs Lewis, my preference has always been for a bit of flash. You can’t beat a sharp suit, crisp white cuffs, shiny shoes, a tiepin if possible … Remember little Jimmy Mullaney? I know I was wasting my time there, but I did so love his style, he was a pleasure to do business with. I’ve never quite got over him … hey-ho … And now along comes this semi-housetrained goon with a sex-drive like a Sherman tank. He is without doubt the challenge I’ve been waiting for. He ain’t seen nothing yet! And the timing is so perfect – you’ve kept us amused all summer long with your antics with Mr Wrong, and now you’re doing, exactly what I would have advised and returning renewed and refreshed to your husband. Quite right. That’s what wives should do. For a moment you had me worried, did you realize? I had the distinct impression that you might be going off the rails never to return – but no! I’ve always been a good judge of character and my instincts about you were exactly right. You’ve done me proud. And I love the way your family all railed to the flag on that fateful evening – they obviously do you credit in spite of having the morals of polecats (I don’t know where they get it from). Do you remember what I said about angels? There you are then. The white rose blooms again, and you’re going to take that lovely picture of everyone with ‘‘Isobel’’ in the foreground – well, next spring’ll do when Sinead’s her beautiful unblemished self. And perhaps you’d be good enough to let me have a copy of the picture, since it features my godchild – I don’t mind having to put up with everyone else as well, I’ve forgiven them all now. I think I may even have forgiven Glyn for letting everyone do exactly as they like – at least he’s consistently negligent, I rather like that in a man. I think my new bloke may be consistently negligent. But I’ll take him in hand, never fear. I adore him, isn’t that ridiculous? My heart beats, my erectile tissues stand to attention, I feel sixteen again. And I’m absolutely beastly to him, of course. I have the idea he’s always had things too easy, he has a low threshold of boredom. All men are like small boys, but he’s more retarded than most … It is I, Susan, who will put a stop to all that malarkey. He’s going to have to wait for his fun! Ha …! It’s going to be better than the telly, Mrs Lewis. All summer I’ve listened to you, and now all winter you’ll be able to relax and listen to me … Incidentally, did I tell you that Simon’s having lunch with Brünnhilde on a regular basis? I’ve completely forgiven her – a nice squeezable menopausal confidante may be exactly what he needs at the moment, and who am I to deny him a bit of comfort, especially when I’m too busy myself? Oh. Do you mind us hanging on a bit longer? Yes, and what I was going to say about angels was – I bet you thought Henry was your angel, didn’t you? Because it was Henry all along, wasn’t it, don’t deny it. See how clever I am? I always have your interests at heart, I take our friendship extremely seriously. But I am totally, totally discreet. I just had a feeling that you and Henry might be able to make sweet music together and I was right – if you could see your face! Now, that’s enough about my present, let’s ta
lk about me! Because I’m your angel, Laura! I am!’
Copyright
First published in 1997 by Hodder and Stoughton
This edition published 2014 by Bello
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Copyright © Sarah Harrison, 1997
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Life After Lunch Page 34
