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The Goodbye Gift

Page 9

by Amanda Brooke


  Helen picked up a biscuit and, rather than put it in her mouth, she snapped it in two. A shower of crumbs fell onto the table while she played with the theory her irritatingly insightful friend had voiced. ‘No, Julia, I’m not,’ she said before remembering who she was talking to. ‘Well, all right, maybe just a little bit – but not over John, I may add. My feelings for that man were overpowered a long time ago by the smell of dirty nappies and baby sick.’

  ‘As opposed to someone whose relationship is being eroded by their absence,’ Julia said wistfully, before realizing she had spoken her thoughts out loud. ‘Sorry, carry on.’

  Helen would much rather revert back to talking about Julia but her friend waited patiently for her to continue. ‘Look,’ she said at last, ‘if I’m jealous at all it’s because I’m condemned to living the life of a lonely spinster while he’s starting over again. Blank page, new start.’

  ‘Hardly a blank page,’ Julia reminded her by lifting her eyes to the ceiling.

  ‘I suppose.’

  ‘And you’re a lonely spinster, are you?’

  ‘I bloody well will be tonight,’ complained Helen.

  ‘There’s still plenty of time to meet your knight in shining armour.’

  Helen gave a derisive snort. ‘Do you think? There are slim pickings out there, Julia. Believe me, I’ve looked, and so far all I’ve found is the odd court jester.’

  ‘May I remind you that I was around your age when I met Paul?’

  Helen was about to argue that Paul had been significantly younger which meant that unlike the candidates she came across, he hadn’t yet had the chance to have his fingers burnt by an ex who would leave him bitter and cynical – but then she remembered. Paul did have a history.

  The pause gave Julia a chance to reconsider her words. ‘Although thinking about it, maybe he’s the one who ended up with the court jester.’

  ‘Meaning?’

  ‘I’m a fraud, Helen. I married Paul under false pretences and when we see the specialist I’m going to be exposed. It’s terrifying me to the point that I’ve become a woman possessed. The old me wouldn’t have stooped so low as to use tricks like I did the other night. How can I expect Paul to like me when I don’t like myself?’ She stopped to tap her head. ‘There’s this little voice in my head getting louder and louder, telling me he’d be better off with someone else.’

  Helen had just shoved a biscuit in her mouth and created a fresh shower of crumbs as she almost choked. ‘Oh, don’t be so ridiculous,’ she said, letting her irritability get the better of her. ‘If Paul was daft enough to marry you in the first place then he’s daft enough to put up with your weirdo behaviour.’

  ‘Thank you for that vote of confidence, but you have no idea how much strain our marriage has been under and it’s only going to get worse. That thing you and John managed after a quick fumble in the dark is something Paul and I might never be able to achieve.’

  Hearing Julia’s sense of defeat was unbearable. It was as if her friend’s body had been taken over by someone Helen had never expected to see again, a jilted bride who thought her life was over when her husband-to-be had developed cold feet. The rat had left it to Julia to cancel the wedding arrangements at a time when she had struggled to drag herself out of bed, and for a long time afterwards she had only pretended to function. Helen dreaded to think what might have happened if Paul hadn’t come along when he did and she dreaded to think what would happen if he disappeared again. But Paul was better than that, and if Julia weren’t being so neurotic, if she weren’t so convinced that history was about to repeat itself, she would realize that too.

  ‘Seriously, Julia, I thought I was supposed to be the drama queen. Wait until you’ve seen the specialist before you start jumping to conclusions,’ Helen said, and when her plea failed to give rise to a response, she opted for flippancy which was bound to rile her friend, but anything was better than despondency. ‘And what do you mean by that thing?’ She left a dramatic pause and looked up in the direction of her daughter. ‘Actually, you might have a point.’

  Julia glared at her.

  ‘What did I say?’ Helen asked, her face a picture of innocence.

  ‘You can’t leave that poor girl locked in her room all day.’

  ‘Who said it was just for today? She’s staying there all weekend!’

  ‘Helen,’ warned Julia.

  ‘Look, Milly has to learn that she can’t throw a tantrum and expect people to bend over backwards to make her feel better. When John turned up this morning, Milly wouldn’t even speak to him or ask how Eva and the baby were. She doesn’t realize that he might eventually get fed up and stop making an effort, which is what she was worried about in the first place. It’s a self-fulfilling prophecy.’

  ‘And as part of her punishment are you also planning on starving her? Milly only asked for a drink.’

  ‘Ah, it starts with a drink but next she’ll be asking for three meals a day.’

  Julia didn’t so much as blink let alone smile. She knew Helen better than to take her impersonation of a wicked mother seriously but she was happy enough to play along if it made her Milly’s saviour. ‘I’m sorry, Helen, but if you’re not going to let her come down then I’m taking something upstairs and you can’t stop me.’

  Grabbing the packet in front of her, Helen said, ‘She’s not getting my biscuits.’

  Julia knew her way around the kitchen and poured Milly a glass of juice before shoving an apple and a chocolate bar in her pocket while Helen picked up a gossip magazine and ignored her friend. As she left, Julia made the point of rattling the extra bag of crisps she had taken from the cupboard and Helen simply flicked over a page in response. She allowed herself a smile and hoped the fire she had reignited in Julia’s belly would burn long enough to put the world to rights.

  Julia tapped lightly on the firmly closed bedroom door. ‘Can I come in?’

  Taking Milly’s silence as agreement, she stepped into the room, which was cast in brooding shadow. If the curtains had been drawn back at any point that morning, they had been pulled over again. Milly was lying on her bed with her back to the door and the only sign of life came from a few sharp sniffs.

  ‘I come bearing gifts,’ Julia promised.

  When she perched on the end of Milly’s bed, the little girl reluctantly turned to face her. ‘Is Mum still angry with me?’

  ‘You really need me to answer that one?’ When more tears threatened, Julia said, ‘Here, you need rehydrating.’

  Milly shuffled into a sitting position and took the proffered drink. ‘Thanks.’

  ‘And I smuggled up some supplies,’ Julia added, digging her hands into her pockets. ‘Would you like to go with the healthy option or is it a chocolate fix you need?’

  Milly took the chocolate.

  ‘When you’ve finished that, make sure you eat the apple too. It’s one of your five-a-day and it might earn you some brownie points with your mum, just as long as you put the core in the bin and don’t leave it rotting under your bed.’ After placing the fruit and the packet of crisps on Milly’s bedside table, it was time to get down to some serious talking. ‘So what happened?’

  ‘I didn’t want to go to Dad’s because it would have meant being stuck in the house all weekend. I told Mum I didn’t want to go and I texted Dad too, but no one ever listens to me. It’s like I can’t have an opinion of my own and it doesn’t matter what I do or say, they think they’re the bosses of me. I can’t wait till I’m old enough to leave home and then I won’t have anyone telling me what to do!’

  Milly had been so passionate with her speech that she slopped blackcurrant juice over her jeans.

  ‘Do you want me to get a cloth?’

  ‘Doesn’t matter; it’s not like I’m going anywhere.’

  ‘So tell me, Milly, how do you think your dad’s feeling right now?’ Julia asked, even though John’s feelings were rarely her concern. Helen was her best friend and her ex generally deserved whatever he got.


  When Julia had first heard that John and his new wife were expecting a child, she had reacted as she always did to the countless couples who were popping out babies at an infuriating rate of knots. She couldn’t share their joy when she was consumed with so much envy, and she couldn’t wish them happiness when she was too busy trying to work out why they deserved to be parents and she and Paul didn’t. John already had a daughter; he was just being greedy and obviously hadn’t considered how this new addition would affect Milly, as her current behaviour clearly demonstrated.

  But while her jealousy ate away at her insides, the last thing Julia wanted was for any harm to come to Eva or the baby. ‘He must have had quite a scare this week. They don’t send people to hospital for the fun of it, you know,’ Julia said, trying to find a safe middle ground between making Milly understand the seriousness of Eva’s condition and worrying her too much. ‘There are going to be times, Milly, when your dad will put you first without question and there will be times when he’ll have difficult choices to make. I’m sure he didn’t want to let you down but this was serious stuff.’

  ‘Do you think the baby could have died?’

  ‘I think it’s a relief for everyone that they didn’t need to keep Eva in hospital but your dad will be worrying until the day that baby’s born. Of course, then he’ll carry on worrying as he or she grows up, just like he worries about you.’

  Milly’s lip trembled. ‘I don’t see why things always have to change.’

  ‘I’m sorry, but you’re old enough to know by now that that happens.’ When it was clear that her words didn’t provide the balm Milly needed, Julia added, ‘But look at all the changes you’ve already been through, like when your dad met Eva and you had to get used to having a stepmum. You were scared then too, remember?’

  Milly nodded.

  ‘But you came around to the idea eventually. You like her now, don’t you?’

  Milly nodded again. ‘I like her a lot.’

  ‘But not enough to care about her going into hospital?’

  From the silent flow of tears, Julia was afraid she had pushed too hard. She held her tongue for a while and was relieved when the tears gradually slowed to a trickle. From downstairs, they heard the doorbell ring and Milly’s eyes opened wide. She pushed her glass into Julia’s hand before jumping off the bed and pulling back the curtains.

  ‘Daddy’s here!’ she cried.

  Milly bolted towards the door but then did an about turn. She rushed over to her dressing table, grabbed her backpack and an overnight bag and then she was hurtling towards the door again. Julia smiled as she heard the little girl screech to a stop on the landing, followed by a loud thump as she dropped her bags, then a whirlwind of motion as she ran back into her room where Julia had remained still throughout. When Milly flung her arms around her, the blackcurrant juice sploshed on Julia this time.

  ‘Thank you, Julia,’ the little girl said and then she was gone.

  Again Julia didn’t follow. She stayed where she was and listened to the sound of two shocked parents laughing at their daughter’s sudden change in attitude. Looking around the room, Julia took in every detail of Milly’s world, the posters of her favourite boy band that all but obscured the wallpaper she and Paul had hung for her when she had been young enough to still like pink. There were piles of schoolbooks and laundry scattered about the place that Julia was tempted to start tidying away until she remembered it wasn’t her job.

  ‘Bye, Julia!’ Milly shouted up to her. ‘I love you!’

  ‘Not as much as I do,’ Helen added in a singsong voice.

  Julia smiled and ignored the ache in her heart.

  10

  The Accident

  Routine operations on the surgical ward had been cancelled to deal with the sudden influx of patients, but staff were still under immense pressure and Anya had accumulated more work than she could handle. When she wasn’t taking care of her patients, she was taking care of the paperwork in an attempt to keep records up to date. As the shock had begun to wear off, some of the accident victims were more coherent and the arrival of families had allowed the medical team to fill the gaps in their knowledge, but it was still very much a work in progress.

  ‘I need to see Helen,’ Julia Richardson whispered when she heard Anya close by leafing through her notes. She spoke without opening her eyes.

  ‘Is she a relative?’ Anya asked as she went through a mental checklist of all the patients who had been brought up to the ward. The name wasn’t a familiar one.

  Julia’s brow furrowed as she fought through a morphine haze to find her words. ‘Helen Butler – a friend,’ she said.

  ‘Was she …’ Anya paused to frame her words carefully. ‘Was she travelling with you?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘I’ll see what I can find out.’

  For a moment, Anya thought Julia was drifting off again but her eyes flickered and she managed to open them. ‘Phoebe,’ she said.

  ‘Do you mean Phoebe Dodd? Is she another friend?’

  Julia frowned as she struggled for an answer, but then gave a tentative nod.

  ‘She’s still in recovery,’ replied Anya, who had kept track of the patient she had brought in earlier. ‘The surgeon’s been able to mend the small tear in Phoebe’s spleen but they were monitoring her closely. I expect she’ll be brought to the ward soon and I’ll let you know when that happens.’

  Julia didn’t respond and although she had managed to keep her eyes open, she was staring off into space. Before she drifted off again, Anya said, ‘Your husband is here. I thought you might—’

  ‘No!’ Julia cried out before Anya could finish. Her previously sedate patient began thrashing her body around, which was no mean feat for someone with multiple leg fractures, not to mention other injuries including a couple of broken ribs. Even with pain relief it would undoubtedly be excruciating for her to move. ‘I don’t want to see him and I don’t want him knowing anything about me! Please, I can’t face him.’

  ‘It’s OK,’ Anya said in a soothing voice as she attempted to calm her patient. ‘You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.’

  It took a minute or two for Julia to settle and not before Anya had administered an extra boost of morphine. She wiped Julia’s sweaty brow and smoothed away hair that was still matted in blood. Slowly, her patient began to drift off to sleep but not before she made one final plea.

  ‘Find Helen … I need Helen.’

  Anya returned to the nurses’ station and found Helen Butler’s records with relative ease. Another piece of the puzzle had been uncovered but the nurse couldn’t quite work out yet how everything connected. She wondered what the little group had been doing earlier. Had it been an average day or had they been planning something special? Whatever the reason for their travels, it was frightening to think how quickly things could change. Where hours earlier they would have been looking to the future and the arrival of a new baby, the best they could hope for now was to survive through to the next day.

  11

  Standing naked in front of the bathroom mirror, Julia scrutinized her body until her reflection was obscured by steam rising from the shower she had yet to step into. Even without the benefit of the mirror, she continued to examine herself. She had put on a little weight in the last month, only a couple of pounds, but it had given her new curves. There was a dull ache in her lower abdomen and when she pressed her palm against it, she felt the pain intensify slightly. Moving her hands upwards, she cupped her breasts in a slow, perfunctory motion. They were fuller and slightly tender.

  These were all signs and symptoms she was used to immediately before her period. What wasn’t normal was the absence of the period itself. She had woken up before the alarm and had beaten Paul to the bathroom on the pretext of wanting to get to work early. It was partly true because she did have a meeting arranged to hand over her completed anniversary pendant to her client, but right now jewellery making was the last thing on her mind. Sh
e was two days late.

  Julia frowned as she checked herself one more time. Was there something different? Could the slight cramping be a symptom of her body adjusting to being – she stopped herself short of even thinking the word and her stomach heaved. She felt sick.

  This latest sensation was scrutinized too. Could her nausea be a result of nerves or could it be – again she caught the thought before it had time to develop, but the butterflies in her stomach were building up a storm and she gripped the side of the basin to keep her balance. Leaning over, she let her head drop and squeezed her eyes shut before she could catch a glimpse of the white plastic stick propped against the porcelain.

  It had been a while since she had got as far as needing to use a pregnancy test. In the early days she had been known to use three or four every month but that had been back when she and Paul had thought their only problem was impatience. More recently they had let time rather than a test reveal their bitter disappointment if for no better reason than to keep their dream alive that little bit longer. Today she felt justified in resurrecting that hope and part of her wanted Paul to share in the moment, but what if she was wrong? What if it was a false alarm? The disappointment would be felt all the more keenly and she wanted to spare him that.

  As she waited for the test to consider its verdict, Paul lay in bed only feet away unaware of his wife’s anxiety. He would know soon enough she told herself as she peeled open her eyes and searched out two blue lines.

  Emergency meeting 7.30 p.m. The Elephant

  ‘Damn, damn, damn, damn, damn,’ Helen muttered under her breath as she read the message from Julia.

  Feeling a pair of curious eyes upon her, she turned to the woman sitting next to her on the bus and made the mistake of giving her an apologetic smile. Helen was a seasoned commuter and the twenty-minute ride home from Broadgreen Hospital was her chance to divest herself of her professional persona by becoming absorbed in irreverent banter on Facebook or watching inane YouTube videos of cats falling off shelves. After the awful day she’d had at work, she was desperate to set free her careless and carefree nature and the last thing she needed was someone spotting her uniform and taking up the entire journey telling her about their ailments. It did happen occasionally and there had been one man in particular who had gone as far as opening his shirt to show her his impressive rash. She had got off the bus two stops early just to escape him.

 

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