She put the bottle of white in the fridge and hoped it would cool sufficiently before Rebecca arrived. The food on offer might not be up to much but at least they could enjoy that. With a bit of luck, it would also help her sister loosen up enough to divulge whatever had been on her mind lately; a problem shared was a problem halved and all that. At any rate, that was the plan. After all, talking about Rebecca’s issues would keep them off the whole Dan subject. Annabel paused and realised that, compared to him, she’d spent the day feeling sorry for herself over nothing. Having to deal with his mother’s illness and find himself a wife. Now that was someone with a real problem.
Annabel began to puncture the cellophane covering tonight’s dinners with a knife. At the same time, she recalled the other evening when she’d seen Dan with his mystery woman. For some reason it had made her feel uneasy, a strange reaction considering she’d known about his promise all along. Under the circumstances, of course he’d be out and about meeting people. She guessed she just hadn’t expected to witness this for herself.
She insisted that she was adult enough to know things could get messy, especially if he met someone he was interested in. Messy not just for herself, but for everyone concerned and standing there, Annabel had to wonder if the best, in fact, the only solution was to try and get another donor. She didn’t relish the prospect. Finding Dan in the first place had been embarrassing enough. More importantly, she had to admit that she didn’t want to find someone else. It was as if Dan wasn’t only helping her on the pregnancy front, he was helping her along in other ways too. Something in her had changed since she first met him and, despite everyone else’s views, it felt like a change for the better.
If only she had someone to talk things through with. Not only did Rebecca fail to understand, she obviously had her own stuff going on. Katy hadn’t agreed with her actions from the start. She also seemed to spend all her time with Oliver lately; Annabel had never seen her so loved up. That only left Tom and even though she could talk to him about anything, going into detail with regards to Dan no longer seemed right.
She suddenly felt guilty. She and Tom had always told each other everything, be it good or bad. Yet here she was wondering whether or not to keep secrets.
‘Penny for them,’ a voice suddenly said.
Knife in hand, Annabel spun round to spot Rebecca in the doorway.
‘I think they’re dead now, don’t you?’
Annabel looked down at the food containers, realising she hadn’t just perforated the two lots of packaging, she’d completely obliterated them.
‘Doesn’t hurt to make sure,’ she said, pulling herself together.
‘Is it anything you want to talk about,’ asked Rebecca, hanging her coat on the back of a chair.
‘Not really,’ said Annabel. As far as she was concerned, the two of them had enough to discuss already. ‘But you can open this.’ She took the bottle of wine back out of the fridge and handed it over, before grabbing a couple of glasses from the cupboard ready for her sister to pour. Surprisingly, Rebecca set the bottle down after filling just one. ‘Aren’t you having any?’ she asked.
‘No, just water for me thanks.’
Annabel headed for the sink and filled the empty glass with tap water. Disappointed, she hated drinking on her own. It also meant her sister was intent on keeping a clear head throughout the evening, a sure sign that Rebecca also meant business. ‘So,’ she said, handing it over and taking a seat.
‘So,’ said her sister. She followed suit and sat at the table.
Sipping on her wine, the atmosphere felt awkward. While Annabel wanted to bring up Rebecca’s recent behaviour, she could tell her sister wanted a similar discussion about hers. It was simply a case of who was going to get in there first.
Keeping things casual, Annabel decided to bite the bullet.
‘How’s things?’ she asked.
‘Fine,’ Rebecca replied.
‘It’s just that the last time you popped in you said you wanted my advice.’
‘Did I? I don’t remember.’
Annabel knew she was lying. With a memory like an elephant, she no doubt remembered every single word that had come out of both their mouths. The situation made her feel sad. Rebecca had had something that needed sharing on her mind for a while, yet remained intent on keeping it to herself. Not only that, she also looked tired; like she was carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders. Usually preferring the Dunkirk Spirit approach to life, it was an image Annabel wasn’t used to. She wished that, for once, her sister would let her in. ‘You do know I’m here for you, don’t you?’ she said. ‘That whatever’s going on you can talk to me about it?’
Rebecca put on one of those annoying, brave smiles of hers. ‘I’ve told you,’ she replied. ‘There’s nothing to tell.’
With their conversation over before it had begun, Annabel gave up. ‘Whatever you say,’ she said, rising from the table. ‘Just remember, I’m here when you’re ready.’
Disheartened, she put one of the lasagnes in the microwave, pressed a couple of buttons, and clicked start. Watching the plate go round and round, the timer beeped with every passing second. The countdown had begun in readiness for yet another argument. After all, if Rebecca wasn’t here to talk about her own problems, it could only be because she wanted to address what she saw as Annabel’s.
‘I’m pregnant!’ her sister suddenly said.
Annabel froze. She needed a second to absorb what she’d just heard; she tried and failed to respond. Out of all the statements that could have left her sisters lips that was the last thing she’d expected to hear. Considering the irony of the situation, she didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Annabel thought back to the morning’s bathroom visit, she told herself that Rebecca couldn’t be having a baby. That just wouldn’t be fair. And, knowing full well what her sister could be like, she found herself silently asking why now? Why would Rebecca and Gavin choose now to get pregnant? She hoped to God it had nothing to do with her own pregnancy plans.
‘Really,’ she finally said. Not sure what else she could say, it was her turn to put on a brave face. She turned. ‘I didn’t know you were even trying.’
‘That’s the thing,’ said Rebecca. ‘We weren’t.’
Annabel told herself at least that was something; there’d been no competition to get in there first. However, despite doing her best not to show it, her sister’s admission still stung. It seemed that Rebecca only had to blink and she got pregnant. Annabel, on the other hand, had spent weeks tracking her menstrual cycle, learning all about the follicular and luteal phases in readiness of finding a donor. Then there were the hours, upon hours, she’d spent lying on her back, legs and bum in the air once her donor had come along to do the business. And she still had nothing to show for it.
‘But you being pregnant is a good thing, right?’ she asked.
Annabel ignored the fact that life could be cruel sometimes and tried to sound positive. Unlike Rebecca, she noted, who refused to play along.
‘Is it?’ she simply replied.
Her sister’s tone sounded flat and emotionless, making it hard for Annabel to tell what she was getting at. Was she being sarcastic? Expecting Annabel to be so upset she’d create a scene? Or was she simply playing the news down because she thought that was the right thing to do? After all, Rebecca had to know how much this would hurt. She searched her sister’s face for a clue, but even that failed to give anything away. One thing was clear though, tonight’s announcement certainly didn’t compare to those of her other three pregnancies. With each of them Rebecca had been overflowing with joy. Then again, realised Annabel, on those occasions, so had she.
Annabel felt ashamed. She told herself this baby deserved better, that, regardless of their differences, her sister deserved better. Annabel put her personal woes to one side and insisted Rebecca’s family planning issues had nothing to do with her own. As hard as it felt right now, she knew that she should celebrate this pregnancy; par
ticularly when she expected others to celebrate hers when the time came.
‘Well you’ve always said you wanted a big family,’ said Annabel, re-taking her seat at the table. ‘You’re just having baby number four a bit sooner than we all thought, that’s all.’
Much to her surprise, Rebecca’s bottom lip began to quiver, leaving Annabel feeling guiltier than she already did. Not that she fully understood why. Given the nature of Rebecca’s news, a part of her still thought any consoling should be the other way round.
‘Please don’t get upset on my behalf,’ she said, tentatively reaching out with a comforting hand. ‘It’ll happen for me too. I just have to be patient.’ Unfortunately, her understanding on the matter seemed to fail in its desired outcome. If anything, rather than feel reassured by it, her sister appeared confused. Okay, thought Annabel, now forced to acknowledge any tears weren’t for her benefit. Something she supposed she could live with, even if she shouldn’t have to. As long as the woman pulled herself together, that is, and told her what the hell was going on.
She watched her sister throw her arms, and then her head, down on the table. ‘What am I going to do?’ she cried.
Hormonal or not, Annabel had never seen her like this. As for the question, she couldn’t believe what she was hearing.
‘What do you mean, what’re you going to do?’ she asked.
Annabel thought back to previous discussions, she couldn’t seriously be thinking about an abortion? From where Annabel stood, having four children couldn’t be much different to having three. Besides, this baby had two parents not one. Surely the next move was a decision mum and dad should be making, not mum and mum’s sister.
‘What does Gavin think you should do?’ she asked.
Rebecca suddenly looked up. ‘I don’t know. I haven’t told him.’
Annabel stared at the woman before her. ‘You haven’t told him?’ she asked.
Rebecca slowly shook her head.
‘Why not?’
An unwanted thought suddenly began to form in Annabel’s mind; a thought that would certainly explain her sister’s unusual behaviour. ‘Tell me to mind my own business if you want to, but he is the father, isn’t he?’
‘Of course he’s the father,’ Rebecca replied. ‘How could you think he’s not?’
By now, Annabel didn’t have a clue what to think.
‘So what’s the problem then?’ she asked.
‘I’ll tell you what the problem is. I’m going to get fat. I’ll be waddling down the street like some overgrown penguin. Suffering back pain and developing a taste for gherkins.’
‘And having mood swings,’ said Annabel, unable to quite help herself.
‘Exactly!’ said Rebecca.
Annabel wondered if her sister knew how selfish she sounded. She’d have traded places with her in an instant given half a chance, waddle or no waddle. There had to be more to this than she was admitting. Everyone knew her sister bloomed during pregnancy.
‘What’s all this really about?’ she asked. ‘You’ve always loved being pregnant.’
Her sister reached into her bag and pulled out a tissue.
‘Well?’ said Annabel. Waiting for an answer, she was determined to get to the bottom of this if it killed her.
‘It’s about Gavin,’ Rebecca finally replied.
At last, maybe now they were actually getting somewhere.
‘What about him?’
Rebecca’s lip began to quiver again.
Another unwanted thought suddenly entered Annabel’s head, this one worse than the first. ‘He’s not sick is he?’ she asked. She felt her whole body tense up in anticipation. ‘Please tell me hasn’t got some god-awful disease.’ Having lost her own husband, the thought of her sister losing hers felt equally unbearable; and not just on behalf of Rebecca, but for the children as well.
‘No, it’s nothing like that,’ she replied, wiping her eyes.
Thank God, thought Annabel, relaxing.
‘So what is it then?’ she asked. ‘What’s the matter?’ In her view, if Gavin wasn’t dying, nothing could be so bad as to warrant all this.
‘He’s bored with me,’ said Rebecca. ‘After nearly ten years together, he’s finally got fed up.’
‘What are you talking about now? Of course he’s not fed up.’ As far as Annabel was concerned, life with her sister as of late was anything but boring. ‘I think the fact that you’re pregnant proves he’s still interested, don’t you?’
Feeling a mixture of frustration and helplessness, she watched Rebecca burst into full blown tears.
‘Then why is he having an affair?’ she said.
16
‘At last,’ said Dan. Relieved to hear voices filtering up from the hallway, he tossed his book to one side. Reading had been a fruitless exercise from the start, but he’d had to find something to take his mind off what was taking place in the kitchen. Try as he might though, he hadn’t absorbed a single word, and all courtesy of that vulture downstairs.
He listened as the front door finally opened and closed, he imagined his mum’s visitor making his way down the path. All the while rubbing his greasy hands together thanks to the sale he’d just clinched. Dan sneered. Not that he’d had to work for it. Not in his game.
Glad he no longer had to hide away; he swung his legs off the bed and stood up. He stretched his back out and could only guess at the amount of money his mother had just spent. He felt cowardly for not offering his support, especially when she’d made it clear she valued his opinion. However, it was bad enough Dan knew that his mother was going to die, without listening to her organise her own funeral. Funeral arrangements signified the end, something he wasn’t yet ready to face.
Dan headed downstairs and told himself that today was no different to when the nurses came. Apart from the fact that in those instances, rather than let him be present, his mother actually ordered him out of the room. Heaven forbid he should glean the slightest bit of information on her condition. So much so, she’d instructed her medical staff to keep schtum when it came to him.
He recalled how he’d tried to discretely accost, Jill, one of the nurses, in the hope of having a little chat; except, just like today’s reading, that turned out to be a pointless exercise too. She was very nice about it, even if she did politely and sympathetically tell him that patient confidentiality kept her from divulging anything. Thank God for the Internet, thought Dan. If it weren’t for modern day technology he’d still know absolutely nothing.
He entered the kitchen and caught sight of the various coffin brochures littering the dining table. They seemed to mock him as he put the kettle on. ‘Everything sorted?’ he asked.
His mother failed to look up and continued to scribble in her notepad, her concentration was there for all to see. No doubt, making notes on what she’d decided upon, getting everything down before she forgot most of it.
She’d been doing that a lot lately, thought Dan. She could be half way through a sentence and suddenly not know what it was she’d wanted to say. Partly because of her illness, he realised, cancer pain was enough to stop even the greatest minds in their tracks. And partly because of the side effects of all the drugs she was now taking. Oramorph for the pain, Stemetil for the nausea, Midazolam for the anxiety … the list went on.
Anxiety, Dan scoffed to himself, such a funny word under the circumstances. As far as he was concerned, anxiety was something you felt when you didn’t want to go to the dentist. Surely the excruciating agony his mum experienced, and the fact that she faced certain death, deserved something more fitting? In Dan’s opinion, Midazolam for pain-induced suicidal thoughts and being shit-scared of dying might not have the same ring to it, but it certainly seemed more appropriate.
He observed his mum for a moment, there was no denying the woman was sick. She’d all but lost her rosy glow and as for those loose-fitting dresses, she might think they hid her drastic weight loss, but they didn’t. Not really. She’d been turning to skin and bone in
front of his very eyes for weeks now, and no amount of fancy clothing could disguise the fact.
She had managed to hold on to one thing though, thought Dan, which was her dignity. The respect he felt was immeasurable as he wondered how she managed to handle everything with such grace and composure. He swelled with a mixture of both pride and admiration; he doubted he could do it. He’d be lucky to have even an ounce of her emotional strength.
‘Cup of tea?’ he asked.
He watched his mum put her pen down and reach into her pocket for her pills.
‘Just a glass of water for me, please,’ she said.
As he grabbed a glass from the cupboard, Dan heard his mum struggling with the blister pack and, as she began to mutter, he could hear her patience decreasing by the second. Her annoyance surprised him; it was the first time she’d shown anything other than a carpe diem attitude since breaking the news. Then again, if anyone was entitled to a fit of frustration he knew it was her.
‘No,’ said his mum. ‘Stupid, stupid, stupid.’
Dan turned just as the pack hit the ground, one of the much needed pills disappeared off and out of sight. His mum dropped to her knees in a pitiful attempt to find it and he immediately raced over to help. ‘Here, let me,’ he said. ‘You sit down. I’ll get it.’
As he took her by the arm and helped her back onto her feet she felt so light it shocked him. Her body was clearly losing the battle even if her brain continued to fight. It struck him just how close to the end they could be; Dan suddenly found himself enveloped with fear. He couldn’t lose her, not yet.
The Trouble With Words: a heart-warming romantic comedy Page 13
