‘Not at all,’ said Marianne. ‘Come on through.’
Mel slouched behind, hands in pockets, wearing a hid-
eously baggy t-shirt and cut-off jeans, listening to something on her iPod; the epitome of the surly teen. Her hair was unbrushed, and unlike Paige who was coated in the stuff, she was wearing no make-up. Cat really wished she’d make more of herself. It was as though she couldn’t be bothered at the moment, which wasn’t like Mel at all. Up until relatively recently, she’d never gone out of the house with a hair out of place.
Paige and Ruby had brought their swimming costumes, and were soon having a water fight with Steven. As soon as Pippa’s lot arrived, they joined in too, leaving James to abandon his too-cool-for-school pose. Soon he was chasing his screaming sisters round the garden, while Lucy and Mel remained with the adults, Lucy clicking her pleasure, seeing all the fun. Did she ever feel left out? Cat wondered. It was so hard to tell. Then Ruby came running up. ‘Lucy, do you want me to push you down there, with the others?’ Cat could have hugged her, for her thoughtful behaviour.
Will I get wet? typed Lucy.
‘Yes!’ said Ruby. ‘It’s no fun otherwise.’
If I have to, typed Lucy, but she was giggling, and she was quickly having a whale of a time with Ruby and Paige, who made sure she didn’t feel left out.
Mel was texting her mates and looking bored, but eventually, either driven away by the boredom of adult conversation, or having run out of gossip, she too succumbed to the water fight going on.
‘This is great,’ said Cat, sitting back and sipping her Pimms. ‘Oh for more days of the Great British Summer like this.’
‘But not so many that the crops don’t grow,’ grinned Pippa.
‘Yes, I forgot about that,’ said Cat. ‘I’m a townie at heart, I can’t help it. Are you sure the boys don’t need any help?’
The boys were huddled self-importantly over the barbie, sipping beer and discussing the relative merits of the sausages.
‘I think they’re doing just fine,’ said Marianne. ‘Just relax for five minutes. It’s not often you don’t have to cook.’
‘True,’ said Cat, thinking it was nice to feel lazy and carefree for a change.
‘Grub’s up.’ Gabe came towards them, brandishing a plate of burgers. As if by magic, wet children appeared at the table, and the first batch of burgers had gone before anyone could pause for breath.
‘Any of you planning to have a burger?’ said Gabriel with a grin.
‘It’s okay, I can live without,’ said Cat.
‘No worries, we have more,’ said Gabriel. ‘But who’s for kebabs?’
Gabe and Marianne had produced a whole selection of lamb, pork and prawn kebabs.
‘Prawns, yum,’ said Mel, perking up.
After the children had demolished pretty much everything Gabe had cooked, he produced another plate of food, including steaks.
‘I saved the best for us,’ he said.
‘Quite right too,’ said Marianne.
It was an absolutely fabulous day. Cat was enjoying herself, particularly as she wasn’t in charge of the catering, and was on her third Pimms, when her phone vibrated. She took her phone out of her pocket and checked her missed calls. Oh lord, it was the care home.
‘Cat, it’s Susan from the home,’ the matron said, and Cat felt herself go to jelly. Something was wrong.
‘Yes?’ said Cat, her heart sinking.
‘I’m really sorry to have to tell you, but your mother’s been taken ill again. She’s on her way to hospital now.’
Cat sat back. Sod it, she’d had a drink, and so had Noel.
‘Shit,’ she said, after she’d rung off. ‘Mum’s been taken ill again and I can’t drive. I’ve had too much to drink. Noel, what have you had?’
‘Oh bugger,’ said Noel, ‘this is my third pint.’
‘It’s okay,’ said Cat, ‘I’ll ring for a taxi.’
‘I can drive you,’ offered Dan. ‘I’m not drinking.’
‘Thanks,’ said Cat. ‘That’s really good of you. Are you sure?’
‘Happy to help,’ said Dan.
‘Noel, do you want to stay here?’ said Cat. ‘I’ll ring you from the hospital.’
Just then Mel came running up the garden.
‘I feel sick,’ she said, and dashed indoors towards the loo.
Oh great, that was all Cat needed. She started to follow Mel indoors, but Marianne stopped her.
‘You need to be with your mum,’ she said.
‘But Mel–’ said Cat.
‘Will be fine,’ said Marianne. ‘Don’t worry about Mel, we’ll sort her out, won’t we Noel?’
‘Of course,’ said Noel. He gave Cat a hug and a kiss. ‘Go and look after your mum, we’ll manage.’
Cat felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude.
‘Are you sure?’ She still felt torn.
‘Yes,’ said Marianne, ‘now go!’
Cat followed Dan out of Marianne’s garden, down the lane to where his car was parked, without saying a word. Her head was churning. Mum, back in hospital again. How long for this time?
Pippa and Marianne spent half an hour calming Mel down. She’d thrown up even more violently when she’d heard her granny was ill. She looked so weak and pale, Marianne wondered if she were coming down with something really nasty.
‘Sorry, Marianne. I didn’t mean to spoil your party,’ she said.
‘You haven’t,’ said Marianne. ‘Are you sure you’re okay now?’
‘I think so,’ said Mel, ‘but I feel a bit queasy still.’
‘Do you want to go home and have a lie down?’
‘Yes, I think I probably do,’ said Mel. ‘Dad, is it okay if I go home?’
‘Are you sure you’re feeling okay?’ Noel said, giving his daughter a hug.
‘I’m fine, Dad, really. I feel better already. The walk will do me good. I think it must have been the prawns.’
‘Sorry,’ said Gabriel, ‘I hope they don’t affect anyone else.’
Pippa would have happily gone home, if she hadn’t thought Gabriel and Marianne would be upset. She wasn’t at all happy that Dan had elected to drive. Getting back in the car had been one of his targets, but he’d not been back driving long, and she still felt anxious about it. The hospital was a good half an hour away, along winding country lanes; what if he lost it on a bend? Or got a blinding headache on the way back and got confused and lost? Stop it, stop it! Pippa told herself off sternly. At this rate she’d give herself a heart attack.
The sun was starting to dip down in the sky by the time Dan came back. The afternoon’s sunny promise had faded into a cooler evening, and grey clouds were beginning to scud across the sky. A heaviness had descended in the atmosphere, promising a hint of thunder. And the mood of the party was sombre too, everyone aware that Cat’s mum might be very poorly indeed.
‘How are things?’ said Pippa getting up to greet him.
‘I don’t know,’ said Dan. ‘Cat asked to be dropped off, so I left her at the entrance of A&E,’ he replied.
‘Oh Dan, didn’t you even go in with her?’ Pippa said without thinking, her dismay all the greater, because she knew in the past that she’d never have had to ask Dan.
‘That’s all the thanks I get?’ Dan blazed out of nowhere. ‘If you hadn’t downed so much Pimms you could have taken her yourself,’ he continued, his voice full of rage.
‘Dan–’ began Pippa, kicking herself that she’d set him off in front of everyone else.
‘Don’t bloody Dan me,’ said Dan. ‘I do a mate a good turn and all you can do is nag me. You’re so damned demanding. If it’s not help with Lucy, it’s fighting a long battle for her respite care. I’m done with it all, do you hear?’
Dan strode off out of the garden, but suddenly stopped. Lucy was sitting looking at him in distress.
‘Oh bollocks. Lucy–’ He looked as if someone had shot him through the heart, then turned on his heel and left.
‘
Oh bugger,’ said Pippa, her voice cracking. This was the worst tantrum Dan had had yet. What on earth were they going to do?
Mel
FACEBOOK status Sooo tired. One exam left. Yay.
Jen17: u out Sat?
Mel: What’s happening?
Jen17: End of exams party. Jake’s from 8.
Mel: Cool
Kaz: Shut up losers. I don’t finish till next week
Jen 17: Soz. Can you come anyway?
Kaz: Sure. Who wants to sleepover?
Ellie: Yeah
Jen17: I can, Mel, wbu?
Mel: Will check with parents … Mad Gran still ill.
Jen17: Oh soz.
Mel: S’OK. She’s my indestructible granny.
Jen17: :)
Mel: Soooo tired. I just want to sleeeeeep …
Kaz: Me too. Then partayyy!
Mel: Sounds good to mexxxoooxxx
Teenage Kicks
This is supposed to be the best time of my life, no? School days? End of exams? Why does everything feel so shit?
Went for sleepover at Best Mate’s after end of GCSE party. Shit night. Loser boys trying it on. I just wanted to see the Boy. So I got really drunk on vodka, and was really sick in the flower bed. Lucky I didn’t go home. Mum not happy, when I got back at 1pm the next day. Was supposed to be babysitting so she could go to see Mad Gran. Oops.
The Boy isn’t returning my texts. Every time I ring him his phone is switched off. Why is he doing this? I really want to see him. I really miss him.
I don’t know why he doesn’t call.
I even went looking for him at work, to see if he was there. I think I’m turning into a stalker.
Mum keeps asking what’s wrong so I said I was upset about Mad Gran. I don’t want her to know the truth.
I feel really weird too. I’ve been sick twice recently. I started to worry I might be pregnant after all. But then my period came, so that’s ok. I just feel tired. Maybe it’s stress. I don’t know.
I just wish The Boy would call. Then I’d feel so much better.
Part Three
We Will Be Together
July
Chapter Nineteen
The sun was shining as Cat headed off to the hospital at lunchtime, before going off to pick Ruby up from school. She had got used to this as part of her daily routine over the last couple of weeks. It turned out Louise had had a serious stroke, and for a couple of days things had looked touch and go. Now though, she was on the mend – she was responding well to therapy, or so the nurses said – but Cat couldn’t see much difference. It felt instead as if her mother was shrinking, fading away before her eyes. She looked paler, thinner, and her remarks were even more rambling and incoherent than ever. Sometimes Cat felt like she couldn’t bear it.
It was silly really to feel it so keenly. Cat had spent the last four years mourning the loss of the mother she’d once known, but this was different. Up until now, she’d felt that all that was left was a shell of her mother – an imposter in her mother’s clothing. And sadly, she’d got used to that. But at least Louise was still there.
But now Louise was physically declining too, and Cat felt like she was losing her all over again. With a jolt, Cat realised she was facing up to the reality of her mother’s death, something she’d put off thinking about over the last few years. Weirdly, she’d got in the way of thinking Louise would remain in a constant state, herself, but not herself; sometimes recognising Cat, sometimes not. But now, she’d sunk even lower than Cat had thought possible. Memories of how her mum used to be were fading fast. Cat wondered if she’d ever remember her properly again.
Cat arrived on the ward to discover as usual, Mum’s food was sitting cold and unpalatable in front of her, while she dozed in a chair. There was only one other patient in the opposite bed, an elderly lady by the name of Josie, who was still lying horizontally. There was no way she could eat her meal without sitting up, and it looked like no one had made the effort to try and feed her or Louise. Cat sighed,
‘Would you like me to raise the bed, Josie?’ Cat said.
‘It’s all right, love,’ said Josie, ‘I don’t fancy this muck anyway.’
‘I’ve got some food for Mum, if you’d like to share it?’ offered Cat.
Josie grinned, ‘No thanks. Funny thing, you lose your appetite in here.’
She was so stoical, Cat could have wept for her.
‘At least let me fill your water jug for you,’ said Cat. As usual, someone had thoughtfully placed the water jugs as far away from the patients as possible. It was as though they didn’t want people to get better.
Once she’d sorted Josie out, she got herself a chair and sat down till Mum woke up. She got out the bread and cheese she’d brought with her, knowing that Louise would refuse the cold food once she woke up. And who could blame her?
After five minutes, Louise started to stir. She opened her eyes and smiled at Cat, in a slightly confused way.
‘Hi, Mum,’ Cat said, leaning over to give her mother a kiss.
Louise’s eyes lit up, and she held Cat’s hand tightly.
‘Lovely to see you,’ she said with a slight slur to her voice, one of the hangovers from her stroke. ‘Are you enjoying your holidays here? Have you been to this hotel before?’
Cat smiled through her tears. If only her mother was staying in a five star hotel. If only they both were. In the weeks Louise had been in hospital, she had variously imagined she was in a train station, at the seaside, or bizarrely, in the carpet cleaning factory where she had once worked.
‘I wonder who you think I am today,’ murmured Cat. She pressed her lips to her mum’s skinny fingers. ‘It’s me, Cat, remember? Please remember.’
She should be used to this by now, should accept that that was the way it was, but it was so hard, her own mother not knowing who she was.
‘Cat, it can’t be my Cat, she came last week. She’s having a baby you know. Isn’t that lovely? She didn’t say, I could just tell.’
‘Oh Mum,’ said Cat, ‘I’ve had my four babies already. See, remember?’ She pointed out a picture of the children taken with Louise in their back garden the previous summer, which she’d brought in the first day Mum was admitted. ‘See, there’s Mel, and James and that’s Paige and Ruby.’
‘Well fancy that,’ said Louise. ‘Such lovely children, who are they?’
‘They’re your grandchildren,’ said Cat despairingly.
‘My grandchildren?’ said Louise, a big smile crossing her face. ‘How lovely.’
Pippa came in from milking the cows with Andy Pilsdon, whom Dan had recently employed full time. She wasn’t over-enamoured by Andy, who seemed to like flirting a little too much for her tastes, and felt slightly awkward as she was old enough to be his mother. Still, he was a hard worker, and beggars couldn’t be choosers.
Pippa was exhausted, filthy and hot. All she wanted was to slump down with a cup of tea, watch some mind-dumbing daytime TV, and stop thinking. But she couldn’t. She had dinner to prepare, baking to do, a phone call to make to Richard La Fontaine, the contact Michael Nicholas had given her concerning funding and a meeting at Lucy’s school to talk about her future, as she would be moving to senior school in the next couple of years. There were two possible choices to make, one involving Lucy at residential school thirty miles away, the other with a day school, much nearer, but with few guarantees of a place.
In the past, Pippa would have automatically discounted the residential home as being not at all what they would have wanted. But now … With Dan the way he was, she was no longer sure. For the first time since Lucy’s birth, she could no longer rely on Dan, and she wasn’t sure how much more she could take.
She came into the kitchen to find Dan slumped in a chair, looking gloomily out of the window. At least he was up. Since his outburst at Marianne’s barbecue, Dan seemed to have gone into a mental decline. Physically he was improving daily, but mentally, he seemed to have given up. He’d stopped working on the
farm, refused Pippa’s desperate pleas to see a doctor, and spent hours online playing violent war games. She had no idea what was happening to him, but she felt like she was losing her lovely gentle husband. She’d even talked to their GP about it. Lindsey Perry, who’d been at school with both Pippa and Dan, had been the family GP since Pippa had first become pregnant, and was very understanding.
‘It does sound like Dan’s getting depressed,’ she said. ‘And I can really understand why, given what you’ve both been through. But unless he comes to see me, there’s not a lot I can do. Has he got a hospital appointment coming up?’
‘I’m holding out for that,’ Pippa had admitted.
‘See how that goes, and if there’s no improvement, I’ll try and pop in to see him,’ said Lindsey. ‘I’ll pretend it’s you I’ve come to see.’
‘Thanks,’ said Pippa, feeling simultaneously grateful for Lindsey’s support and guilty that she was going behind Dan’s back. It was so frustrating. Dan had seemed to be getting better, but now he was so much worse again.
‘Hi,’ she said carefully, to see Dan hunched over the laptop as usual. She was never quite sure what mood she was going to find him in these days.
A shrug and a grunt were all the response she got.
‘Cup of tea?’ she said, hoping that was a neutral enough comment.
Another shrug, which she took as a yes.
‘What are you up to?’ she asked gently.
‘Yes, I’m online, before you have a go,’ was the belligerent response.
‘I was only asking,’ said Pippa, between gritted teeth.
There was no response to that, so she made the tea and went upstairs to shower before getting on with the evening meal.
‘What are you doing that for now?’ said Dan.
‘Because I won’t have time later,’ said Pippa.
‘Well make time,’ said Dan. ‘I never see you, you’re always busy.’
‘Because there’s always a lot to do,’ said Pippa, trying to keep her voice level, and ignoring the comment bubbling up, ‘and because you never do anything.’
A Merry Little Christmas Page 16
