by Carys Jones
‘Oh, Tilly.’ Ivy was looping an arm around her daughter as she spoke. ‘I’m afraid I can. And when I’m gone, I need to know you’ll be OK.’
‘You can’t die!’ Tilly cried, the words so loud that her mouth stiffened. ‘I won’t allow it!’ she declared defiantly. ‘You can’t leave me, Mummy, you can’t!’
‘I don’t want to leave you,’ Ivy admitted tearfully.
‘Then don’t!’ Tilly pleaded, her voice shrill. ‘The doctors will make you better!’
‘Oh, Tilly, my sweet girl. You’re going to have to be strong. Can you be strong?’
Tilly shook her head. No, she couldn’t. Not when the very ground beneath her feet was giving way.
‘Listen to me, Tilly.’ Her mother cupped her face with her cold, clammy hands and looked deep into her daughter’s eyes. ‘I need you to knuckle down at school, you hear me? I need you to focus on being a good student. I won’t be here for much longer, Tilly.’
‘Why?’ Tilly choked on her words. ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’
Beneath her overwhelming sorrow, the blade of betrayal turned in her back. Her sisters had known for some time but the truth had been hidden from Tilly because she was the baby.
‘Because …’ Ivy sighed and released Tilly’s cheeks to allow a hand to flutter to her chest. She coughed uneasily for several seconds.
‘Mummy?’ Tilly was anxiously alert.
‘I thought you wouldn’t cope,’ her mother answered as the coughing subsided. ‘You live in a world of fairy tales. I feared what taking that away from you could do.’
‘That’s why Dad says I need to grow up.’
‘Yes.’ Ivy spluttered a few more times. ‘We need you to grow up, sweetheart, because when I’m gone things will be different.’
Tilly glanced around her parents’ bedroom. Her tear-filled eyes made it look like everything was underwater. Everything about the room, about the whole house, was infused with her mother. Ivy’s essence was everywhere, from the patterned curtains she’d carefully chosen to the framed pictures of her smiling on her wedding day. If Ivy left there would be no home any more, just a gaping hole where one used to be.
Tilly couldn’t help but notice how her mother’s nightdress hung on her bony frame. She was already fading away, disappearing before her eyes. How could Tilly have been so blind?
‘I can grow up,’ Tilly promised as she wiped her eyes. ‘I can do better.’
‘Oh, sweetheart, it’s not about doing better. It’s about being able to cope.’
‘If I grow up, will you stay?’ Tilly bartered.
‘It doesn’t work like that,’ her mother said with a sad smile. ‘I’ve got to leave you no matter how desperately I want to stay.’
‘I can’t.’ Despair bubbled in Tilly’s throat. ‘Mummy, you can’t!’ She reached for her mother again and held her with all her might, her hands bunching the flimsy fabric of the nightdress. ‘You can’t go!’ Tilly was sobbing, her body heaving with the effort. ‘You’re supposed to see me finish school, graduate from university, and get married.’
These things felt light-years away. But whenever Tilly imagined them her mother was always there. Without her mother in the picture there was no longer a future to imagine at all. The images flittered away like ash in the wind.
‘Oh, Tilly.’ Ivy was leaning against her daughter, kissing the top of her head. ‘I’ll be there for all those things, I promise. You won’t see me, but I will be there. I’ll be with you for the rest of your life.’
‘But it’s not the same,’ Tilly trembled. ‘I need you to really be there.’
Tilly had no appetite. Her father placed a freshly-made bacon sandwich down in front of her and eyed her anxiously.
‘You must be starving,’ he noted. Tilly eyed the slices of white bread and meat and felt her stomach turn unpleasantly. Shaking her head, she pushed the plate away.
‘You need to eat,’ Clive told her. ‘You were out all night. I can’t believe you were so foolish, Tilly! You could have caught your death out there!’
He regretted the words the instant he’d uttered them. Clamping a hand to his mouth, he paced towards the kitchen then returned to Tilly’s side.
‘I didn’t mean–’
‘It’s OK.’ Tilly reached for the sandwich with both hands. She felt numb and detached from her movements, as though she were acting a part in a play rather than her own life. ‘I’ll eat.’ She bit down on the sandwich, which would normally be delicious, but today it felt like chewing cardboard – tasteless and dull.
‘How was your mother when you left her?’
‘Tired,’ Tilly told him between mouthfuls. ‘She’s gone back to bed.’
Her father raked his fingers over the stubble growing on his cheeks.
‘I’m going to do better. If it’ll help Mum, I’ll grow up. I’ll work hard in school.’
‘Good girl.’ Her father smiled gratefully. ‘I really am sorry for last night, Tilly. But it is better now you know the truth.’
Tilly wasn’t sure. Easier perhaps, but not better. In the space of just a few hours, her entire world had changed. She was no longer a carefree girl who could climb up her bunk bed and escape into a tower – she was turning into someone she didn’t recognise and the change was so sudden that she was powerless to fight it.
‘You should try and get some sleep,’ her father urged. ‘You must be exhausted.’
‘I’m not tired.’ Tilly felt nothing. She was not hungry, nor tired. She was just … empty, as if all her feelings had been absorbed into a vacuum and now she was floating in nothingness. It reminded her of a movie she loved – The Neverending Story. It was about a boy and a magical book and there was even a luck dragon. In the movie the ‘nothing’ was destroying the magical world. The ‘nothing’ was just darkness and bit by bit it was devouring Fantasia, the fantasy world in the movie, until hardly anything remained. That was how Tilly felt, as though the ‘nothing’ was consuming her from the inside out. Only she didn’t have a luck dragon or a magical book to rescue her. She just had herself.
‘Well, why don’t you lie down and try to rest for a while?’
Tilly didn’t want to sleep but she didn’t want to stay awake either. She was in some sort of weird limbo. Accepting her father’s guidance she finished her sandwich, swallowing each mouthful as though it were cement, then climbed the stairs and went to her room.
She had neither the energy nor the inclination to climb up to her tower. Instead, she pushed aside her stuffed toys and lay down beside them. She glanced forlornly at the blank screen of the television at the end of her bed. Normally it had the power to transport her to distant, magical worlds but it couldn’t help her now. Nothing could. Tilly was still gazing at the television as her eyes began to close and her breathing began to slow.
A sharp knock on her door caused Tilly’s eyes to fly open. As adrenaline pulsed through her body she realised she must have been sleeping. She felt betrayed by her own body – how could it think to sleep at such a time? She pulled herself up as the door opened and her mother walked in. The nightdress was gone and she wore a thick woollen jumper and ill-fitting jeans.
‘Sorry, Tilly, did I wake you?’ She loitered uneasily in the doorway.
‘No,’ Tilly insisted, yawning loudly. ‘I was up.’
‘I’ve got something for you.’ Her mother came in and lowered herself onto the bottom bunk, pain flashing behind her eyes.
‘Mum, you should be resting.’
‘Here.’ Ivy handed her the cardboard box she’d been carrying. Tilly accepted it but didn’t pay it any attention.
‘Tilly, look,’ her mother urged as she nudged her daughter. Inhaling slowly, Tilly looked down at the box. On the front was an image of a sleek, black DVD player. Tilly’s eyes widened.
‘You bought me a DVD player!’ she uttered in disbelief.
‘Yes.’ Her mother nodded enthusiastically. ‘Actually, we bought it in the summer sale and were intending to put it up for C
hristmas. But I think you could do with it now.’
Tilly gripped the box as her mouth fell open.
‘Mum, I don’t deserve this.’ Hastily, she shoved it towards her mother.
‘Tilly, it’s fine. It’s just a small token but it might help.’ Ivy pushed the box back into her daughter’s hands.
‘Mum.’ Tilly didn’t know what to say. Her mother had basically given her the magic portal she’d been yearning for. But she didn’t want to receive it under these circumstances.
‘If I give it back will you get better?’
Ivy shook her head. ‘Why don’t we set it up together?’ she suggested brightly, scooting across the bed and to the small television.
Tilly tilted the box in her hands and scrutinised it.
‘Well, open it!’
‘OK.’ Tilly obliged as she broke the seal and pulled the box open.
An hour later and the DVD player was set up and ready to play one of Tilly’s favourite films.
‘Will you stay and watch it with me?’ Tilly asked hopefully. It would be like old times, the two of them curled up on her bottom bunk. Side by side, they could lose themselves in the magic.
‘I can’t.’ Her mother sighed as she got up, wavering slightly on her feet. ‘I need to lie down for a bit. But you watch the movie, sweetheart.’
Tilly wanted to run after her mother as she left the room but she noticed the wilt in her posture. She was heading to bed to rest and all Tilly would do was slow her down.
In spite of the bleakness of the day, the DVD player had provided a glimmer of brightness. Like in the movie about the ‘nothing’, when the empress’ castle is discovered in the endless darkness, shining like an undefeatable beacon of hope.
Excitement fluttered inside Tilly as she thought of the countless hours she could spend watching films. But those feelings were quickly replaced with shame. How could she even consider enjoying herself when Mum was dying? Fresh tears crept from the corners of her eyes.
‘So it’s true!’ Monica barged into Tilly’s room and pointed towards the television.
‘See, I told you,’ Maria declared smugly from behind her.
‘What?’ Tilly peered out from her bed to look at her sisters. ‘What are you doing in here?’
‘They gave you a DVD player, jeez,’ Monica pouted.
‘And no mobiles for us!’ Maria pushed her way into the small room to scowl at the television.
‘Maybe we should run away,’ Monica said.
‘Yeah,’ Maria agreed with a raise of her eyebrows. ‘Maybe then we’d get our bloody phones!’
Monica averted her steely gaze to Tilly, and when she saw her tears some of her anger thawed. She reached for Maria and gave her a quick pinch, nodding in Tilly’s direction.
‘Reckon you’d let us use the DVD player sometimes?’ Monica asked.
‘Sure,’ Tilly sniffed.
‘We could introduce you to some decent films,’ Maria added with an overly forced smile.
‘You don’t have to keep pretending to be nice to me,’ Tilly told them. ‘You can go back to hating me, it’s OK.’
‘We don’t hate you,’ Monica insisted, lowering herself to sit beside Tilly. Maria followed suit and sat on the other side. Wedged between her sisters like bookends, Tilly felt surprisingly content.
‘We need to stick together,’ Monica told her softly.
‘Yeah, squirt.’
‘I mean, there are going to be times when we drive each other crazy. We’re sisters – that’s our job. But we’ll always have your back.’
‘You can use the DVD player whenever you want,’ Tilly told them as they gave her a hug. Huddled together, they truly felt like sisters, a trio of musketeers.
‘Thirty minutes, tops!’ Her father pointed at her as she sat in front of the computer screen. ‘No longer or your eyes will go square!’
Tilly was setting up a Skype call with Josephine. To her surprise, her entire family had been going out of their way to ensure she had a good day. First there was the DVD player,
and now time on the computer. Upstairs, her mother was still resting while her father bustled about in the kitchen trying to put together a roast dinner.
Tilly’s stomach even managed to growl appreciatively when she smelt the chicken in the oven.
She just hoped Josephine would be online to accept her call. She wasn’t sure if she was going to tell her about her mother – she just wanted to see her friend.
After a mere two rings the blue screen faded away and Josephine was there, her smile lighting up the monitor.
‘Tilly, hey!’ she enthused. Her dark hair was gathered in a neat bun and she wore a lime green jumper which made her seem paler than usual.
‘Hi, Josephine.’ Tilly couldn’t help but smile when she saw her. ‘Guess what?’
‘What?’
‘I got a DVD player in my room!’
‘Oh, no way!’ Josephine clapped her hands excitedly. Tilly appreciated her friend’s enthusiasm, especially when Josephine had all the latest gadgets at her disposal and a huge new bedroom in London with its own bathroom. But she was an only child; she’d never had to endure siblings and sharing like Tilly had.
‘And I went out last night,’ Tilly added boastfully. Her head lowered slightly. Her parent’s anniversary party felt like it had happened a hundred years ago. Had it truly been an anniversary party or something else entirely?
‘You did? Where did you go?’ Josephine’s full attention was focused on Tilly and it felt good.
‘Mum and Dad had an anniversary party. It was a lot of fun.’
‘Oh yeah, did you dance?’
‘Of course!’
Josephine nodded in approval.
‘I danced all night!’ She even had two sore feet to prove it.
‘I’m glad you had fun, Tilly.’
‘What did you do?’
‘I had a sleepover.’ Josephine smiled though there was a guilt-ridden edge to her voice. Sleepovers were something she and Tilly did together. They’d eat big bowls of popcorn and curl up in front of the television.
‘That sounds … awesome.’ Tilly managed to smile brightly in response. ‘With some of the girls from school?’
‘Yeah, a bunch of us. We watched horror movies and painted our nails and …’ Tilly began to zone out as her friend eagerly listed her fun activities. The distance between them started to open up once more even though they were face to face.
‘Tilly?’
‘Yeah?’ Tilly blinked, suddenly brought back to the moment.
‘You should come down to London, there’s more than enough room. We’ve got a spare bedroom and everything!’
Tilly felt longing tug at her heart. She’d love nothing more than to escape to London and be with her best friend. She could leave her troubles back in Dullerton. In London, it would be easier to pretend that everything was fine, that her mother wasn’t sick.
‘I wish I could,’ Tilly admitted. Even though Josephine was more polished and preened than before, she was still Tilly’s best friend and Tilly was desperate to cling on to the people she had left.
‘Tilly, what’s wrong?’ Josephine noticed the slump in her friend’s shoulders and the expression on her face.
Taking a deep breath, Tilly chose to unburden herself.
‘My mum is sick,’ she admitted.
‘Oh, that sucks,’ Josephine empathised.
‘She’s dying.’
The rest of their Skype call involved copious amounts of tears and promises from both girls. The dark cloud which had settled over Tilly’s home had managed to reunite them. They reaffirmed their status to one another and when Tilly ended the call, red-eyed and weary, she was certain that no matter what, Josephine would be by her side.
‘So how was Josephine?’ Her father cautiously peered round the door when Tilly had grown silent.
‘She was good.’ Tilly wiped at her nose with the back of her hand.
‘You told her about Mum?’
<
br /> ‘Uh-huh.’
‘When things are more settled I promise I’ll send you to London. How does that sound?’
Tilly could only nod. By more settled, did he mean when her mother was gone? Thinking about it made Tilly feel like she was teetering on the edge of an immense cliff.
‘Did you like the DVD player?’ her dad asked, his tone brightening, determined to keep the conversation pleasant.
‘Yes,’ Tilly uttered. ‘Very much.’
‘It was Mum’s idea,’ her father said softly. ‘She loves you a lot, Tilly. We both do.’
‘Dad! Is dinner ready yet?’ Monica stormed into the kitchen, her eyes scanning the sides for signs of a meal being prepared.
‘Almost,’ Clive sighed, ‘give me chance, Monica.’
‘ I’m starving!’ Monica moaned.
‘Me too!’ a voice chirped from behind as Maria, her sister’s ever present shadow, stepped into view.
‘We’re growing girls, Dad,’ Monica told her father.
‘All the rubbish you two put away, the only way you’ll be growing is out, not up!’ Clive replied.
Monica rolled her eyes and went to inspect the boiling pots on the stove. Tilly had to admire her sisters’ resilience. In the face of such tragedy they were both standing tall. Her sisters weren’t teenage girls – they were warriors.
Tilly knew she’d never be as strong as
them. Early on, she’d realised how set apart
she was from Monica and Maria. They were confident and outgoing, she was shy and reclusive. They were tall, she was short. She
was the complete antithesis to their dark hair
and beauty – at least that’s how she felt.
With a full belly, Tilly curled up on the bottom of her bunk bed, feeling oddly content. Her eyes burned from the tears she had shed. During dinner, her mother had made an appearance and tentatively picked at the food on her plate. Tilly told herself that it was a sign, that her mother was getting better.
Leaning against her stuffed toys, Tilly watched one of her DVDs as the sky darkened and night crept in, pushing the sunshine of the day away. In the film, a mermaid dreamed of walking on land and finding love with the prince she’d saved in a storm. She needed a miracle to be with him, and she got one.
