The Goodbye Gift

by Amanda Brooke

  After the waitress had taken their order, she steered the conversation back on track. ‘The point I was making is that I gave myself a limit on what I could spend this morning and I’ve stuck to it.’

  Julia took the hint and decided not to push the subject, for now at least, and chose instead to eye the shopping bags. ‘But I thought the idea was we would take as little as possible and go shopping crazy while we were away?’

  ‘Not all of it’s for me. Most of it’s for Milly to take when she moves in with her dad.’

  ‘There’s no chance she might still change her mind, is there?’

  The desperation in Julia’s voice was echoed in Helen’s when she replied, ‘Never say never, but John has spent a fortune doing up her bedroom. I was dragged in to see it the other day.’ She had been dropping her daughter off at John’s and, oblivious to the knife twisting into her mother’s heart, Milly had insisted she take a look. ‘The house smelled of happy families, Julia, from fresh baking to muddy boots.’

  ‘And baby powder?’

  Helen nodded. ‘Little wonder Milly’s been tempted into their world, but I’ve bought some picture frames so she can put up photos of the two of us, all in the vain hope that she won’t forget me.’

  ‘She’s not cutting you out of her life completely, Helen. You’re simply reversing the arrangements you already have with John. You get the good bits and he gets the dirty laundry and the tantrums.’

  ‘Nice try,’ Helen said, ‘but we both know it’s going to be horrible.’

  ‘I know.’

  When the conversation risked becoming maudlin, Helen said, ‘Do you want to see what else I’ve bought?’ She delved into a bag and pulled out an exquisite red dress. ‘I couldn’t resist this and it was on sale. We are still sharing our wardrobe, aren’t we?’

  ‘If that dress is part of the deal then yes, most definitely. I’m taking that LBD you like,’ she said, her voice trailing off as her face darkened.

  ‘What?’

  Julia was shaking her head. ‘Nothing. Nothing at all.’ She gave Helen a bright smile and then looked far too excited about the plate of pasta that had just arrived. ‘This looks delicious.’

  Helen didn’t so much as glance at her food, she was too busy dissecting the happy expression on her friend’s face. ‘What’s wrong, Julia?’

  Pushing the penne around her plate, Julia looked as if she was searching for the answer to the question Helen had posed. ‘I think this holiday is way overdue,’ she said at last. ‘I need to clear my head and when I get back, I’m getting things back on track.’

  ‘With Paul?’

  Julia nodded.

  ‘He must be finding it difficult,’ Helen offered.

  ‘This whole fertility business has left him feeling emasculated.’ When Helen raised her eyebrows, Julia added, ‘His words, not mine. And what does a man do when he feels his manhood is being questioned?’

  Helen had taken a mouthful of food, which fortunately prevented her from saying the first thing that came to mind. With more time to think, she replied, ‘Give his wife a good …’

  The comment raised a fleeting smile but Julia wouldn’t be appeased. ‘I mean, as well as that,’ she said and waited for Helen to try again. Still refusing to say what she was thinking, Helen shovelled another forkful of pasta in her mouth, and Julia was forced to say it for her. ‘What he does is go out and prove himself with other women.’

  Helen chewed on her pasta as if her life depended on it.

  ‘I know what you’re thinking,’ Julia said. ‘I’ve been more than a little insecure lately and I’m being irrational.’

  ‘Paul loves you.’

  ‘Yes, I know. He said that very thing to me last night.’

  ‘But?’

  ‘But he also said he was sorry. For what?’

  ‘For not being able to give you babies, of course.’

  ‘He said he didn’t deserve me. Why? What if there’s more to this than he’s letting on?’

  Helen felt some sense of relief. ‘If the only damning evidence you have against Paul is that he said he was sorry without prompting then there must be a hell of a lot of guilty husbands out there. If there was such a thing as a Husband’s Handbook, I’d say apologizing to your wife at least once a day, whether you’ve done something wrong or not, would be covered in the first chapter.’

  Julia didn’t look convinced. ‘It wasn’t the only thing, Helen. I was emptying his gym bag last night and his T-shirt was crumpled but it most definitely hadn’t been worn. Other stuff in the bag had been used but that could so easily have been from the other night when we had gone to the gym together. If he was being clever about it then he would have kept the same shorts, not rinsed through his hand towel like he normally would and, knowing that I might pick up on him not changing his shirt – which he always does – he could have thrown in a clean one, crumpled it up and hoped it would look used.’

  Helen opened her mouth to challenge Julia’s theory but her friend hadn’t finished. ‘And he had a shower as soon as he got in. He usually has one at the gym.’

  ‘Usually, but not always?’

  ‘Not always when I’m with him because I’d rather get washed and changed at home. When he’s on his own, he tends to shower there unless it’s too busy.’

  ‘And was it busy?’

  ‘He says so.’

  ‘And did he look like he’d had a workout when he came home?’ Helen asked before snapping her mouth shut. There was more than one way to get hot and sweaty.

  ‘I didn’t notice. I was in the kitchen and barely gave him a second look. All I could smell was the mint he’d been eating. What if that was part of his plan to cover his tracks? What if he was trying to disguise the smell of another woman?’

  ‘But he loves you,’ Helen said, only her argument wasn’t holding together as strongly as it should.

  ‘I keep telling myself I’m being paranoid and we’re still coming to terms with what the consultant said. It’s not like Paul could have gone out and found someone else so quickly, is it?’ Julia had that desperate look in her eyes that pleaded with Helen to tell her that her suspicions were unfounded. ‘Am I talking utter rubbish?’ she asked.

  ‘You? Always.’

  ‘Do you think I should confront him?’

  ‘If he’s guilty then I’m sorry, short of sending his T-shirt off to forensics, you haven’t got anything that he couldn’t deny. And unless he gives you an outright confession, there’s nothing Paul will be able to say or do that will put your mind at rest. You’ll only make things worse and, not wanting to sound selfish, it’s not exactly going to make a great start to our holiday.’

  ‘Sorry, I shouldn’t have opened my big mouth. You shouldn’t have to put up with my neurosis on top of everything else.’

  ‘It’s OK. You had to tell someone and it was better me than Paul.’

  ‘Yes, but still, I probably should have talked to Phoebe about it, rather than burdening you.’

  ‘Maybe,’ Helen said and wondered what her friend would have made of Julia’s fears.

  Phoebe hadn’t been able to join them for lunch and they had barely spoken in the last few days. Someone with a suspicious mind might think she was being evasive, and unfortunately for Phoebe, that someone was Helen.

  26

  The Accident

  ‘Julia, I don’t know what to say …’

  ‘Why don’t you try saying sorry. That usually works, doesn’t it, Paul?’

  His mouth moved and when the words wouldn’t come, Julia looked straight through the broken man standing in front of her and towards Anya. For a moment, it seemed she would retain her icy composure, but then Julia’s face creased up with pain. The nurse stepped quickly towards the pump administering a steady stream of morphine to her patient. Her finger was already hovering over the booster button when she asked, ‘Do you need more pain relief?’

  Julia’s eyes refocused, locking on the machinery. ‘No, it’s not that kind of pa
in! And I said I didn’t want any drugs. Take this thing out of me,’ she said, glaring at the cannula protruding from her arm.

  ‘Until you’re able to eat and drink properly, that has to stay. Your pain relief has been reduced, but you do need something.’

  ‘Then why can’t I think straight? I need to think straight,’ Julia moaned but she was already giving up the fight.

  ‘Let me explain, Julia, please,’ Paul said.

  When Julia shook her head, a tear slipped down the side of her bruised face. ‘No, leave me alone, Paul. I can’t bear to look at you.’

  ‘He’s right,’ Phoebe said. ‘We need to talk about this.’

  ‘Shut up, Phoebe, just shut up!’ Julia said. ‘Haven’t you caused enough damage? If I am ever ready to talk about this then it won’t be with you. I’m not even sure it’s going to be with him.’ She glared at Paul briefly before turning her attention to Anya. ‘How’s Helen? Is there any news?’

  ‘That’s what I was coming to tell you,’ Anya said. ‘She’s breathing on her own now and her sedation is being withdrawn gradually.’ The relief on Julia’s face was short-lived when Anya was forced to add, ‘There’s still some way to go yet. Her head injury is serious and we won’t know what damage there is, if any, until she comes round.’

  ‘Will you let me know as soon as she does?’

  ‘She’ll be fine,’ Paul said.

  ‘She’d better be.’

  Despite the drugs, Julia managed to hold Paul’s gaze and he was the one who looked away. ‘I know, Julia. I know it’s my fault.’

  Julia’s voice was a strangled whisper when she said, ‘I loved you, Paul. We had—’

  ‘Auntie Julia!’ came a desperate cry.

  Milly had pelted at full speed into the room and weaved between Anya and Paul to reach Julia. There was a gasp of pain as the little girl wrapped her arms around Julia’s bruised body before anyone could stop her, but rather than push her away, Julia clung to her as the young girl began to sob.

  ‘Oh, Milly, honey. Are you all right? What’s happening with your mum?’

  Milly’s face was buried against Julia’s shoulder and her words were unintelligible until Julia lifted up the girl’s face and, with a few soothing words, managed to coax a coherent answer from her. ‘She won’t wake up, Julia. Everyone’s so scared and they don’t know if she ever will. I talked and talked and I told her I would do anything, anything, if she would just open her eyes but she’s still asleep.’

  Anya glimpsed an out-of-breath John Butler coming to a halt at the doorway after chasing his daughter through the hospital. He approached the group slowly and had to squeeze his nose between his thumb and forefinger to regain his composure before he could talk.

  ‘They think she might have suffered brain damage,’ he said, at which point his daughter’s wails intensified.

  Julia made soft, shushing noises and eventually Milly was able to speak. ‘We have to wake her up, Auntie Julia,’ she cried between rasping breaths. ‘I need her to wake up.’

  Turning to Anya, Julia said, ‘I have to see her.’

  ‘And me,’ Phoebe added.

  Before Anya could object, the two women began pulling themselves up, and paid no heed to the various tubes they were connected to.

  ‘You can’t,’ Anya said, lunging towards Phoebe who was meant to remain immobilized until the surgeon was satisfied there was no further risk of her rupturing her spleen. The nurse hadn’t been so concerned about Julia who had one leg completely encased in plaster and was therefore the least capable of getting very far, or so Anya thought.

  ‘Paul, get me a wheelchair,’ Julia ordered.

  ‘No!’ Anya said more firmly this time.

  ‘Either you help me get to Helen or I’m discharging myself and I’ll find my own way there,’ Julia replied.

  ‘I’m coming too,’ Phoebe said.

  27

  Milly would be moving out on Saturday morning, giving her just enough time to work out if she had forgotten anything before Helen set off on the first leg of her holiday two days later. This meant they should have been spending Friday evening double-checking what Milly had packed, but it was their last night together before everything changed so, unsurprisingly, they found themselves snuggled up in front of the TV.

  The American sitcom they were watching was one of a long stream of programmes that Milly would watch nonstop if she had her way, which wasn’t very often, but tonight Helen raised no objection. Her mind was elsewhere, and as she kissed the top of her daughter’s head she breathed in the scent of her and wondered if she would be able to recall that distinctive Milly smell when she wasn’t there. She hoped so, but she wished she didn’t have to.

  ‘What was that for?’ Milly asked. She had kept her eyes on the TV while upturning her face towards her mum.

  ‘Because—’ Helen had to stop, caught out by emotions that had quickly risen to the surface and had to be swallowed back. ‘Because I’m going to miss you.’

  Still not looking at her mum, Milly dropped her head onto Helen’s shoulder and pushed against her body. ‘I’m going to miss you too.’

  After the embarrassment had passed, Helen expected her daughter to relax back into a comfortable silence. It was only when she gave Milly a gentle squeeze that she realized her daughter was holding her body so taut it was making her tremble. ‘Are you OK?’ she asked.

  Milly’s body shook that little bit more in what was a poor attempt at a nod. Despite the roiling emotions, Helen was tempted to remind her daughter that this was all her doing. It had been her decision and her decision alone to go so there was no point moaning about it now. She had not only wanted to live with her dad, she had demanded it.

  Their argument over the laundry felt like a lifetime ago and they had both come a long way since then. Helen had learned the hard way that her daughter had her own needs, her own opinions and her own way of doing things. As Milly’s mother, Helen was meant to guide her towards independence, not control her every move and then complain when she rebelled, but she wasn’t the only one who had learned a thing or two. Milly had been forced to realize that her mother wasn’t perfect, that she had been making it up as she went along and sometimes she had got it wrong.

  ‘It’s going to take a while for us all to adapt,’ Helen offered. ‘Even though you’ve stayed with your dad and Eva often enough, it’s going to be different – for all of us.’

  ‘Eva’s said she won’t be trying to take your place.’

  The thought hadn’t even occurred to Helen and it pained her to imagine it now. When she gave Milly another hug, she squeezed shut her eyes. ‘I’m glad to hear it. If I was going to be made completely redundant, I might as well stay in New York.’

  This time when Milly lifted her head towards her mum, she did look at her. Tears were welling in her eyes. ‘You will come home, won’t you?’

  ‘Of course I will. I couldn’t live without you, Milly, and I’ll be counting down the days until you get to stay with me.’

  Milly’s lips cut a sharp line across her face, albeit a sharp line that quivered. She continued to shake and when she did speak, her words came out in a trembling rush. ‘And I can’t live without you! I don’t want to go, Mum, I want to stay here! I know Dad’s spent loads of money doing up my room, but I don’t want to live there.’

  Her last words were choked, and as Milly began to sob Helen rocked her fiercely. Her first reaction was to imagine John and Eva standing in front of her so she could put two fingers up at them. There you go, she would tell them. You think you have your perfect little family but you’re not stealing my daughter! Her second, more considered response was to accept that this might just be last-minute nerves. Whether she wanted to or not, Milly would be spending the next week and a half with her dad which gave her plenty of time to renege on any rash promises she might make tonight.

  ‘The choice is still yours to make, Milly, and me and your dad will do our best to make it work, whichever one of us you choose
to live with. But when you do choose, there are certain practical arrangements we have to make, so when you make your final decision, you’re going to have to stick with it,’ Helen said. She was surprised how sensible she sounded and wondered if Chris’s influence was coming into play. This might not be a financial decision but Milly’s choice would have financial implications and both she and John needed some certainty. ‘Go to your dad’s and see how it goes while I’m away. I’ll let him know you’re having second thoughts and we can all sit down and talk it through when I get back.’

  ‘I won’t change my mind again,’ Milly promised. ‘I keep thinking about what Phoebe said about her mum. You might drive me crazy but I’m so lucky to have you as my mum and I’d die if anything happened to you. I wanted to tell you ages ago that I’d changed my mind, but Dad was decorating my bedroom and I was scared it was too late. I want to live with you, Mum. I’m already sure and I’m sorry for making you sad.’

  Pulling away, Helen waited until her daughter had wiped her eyes and was sitting up rather than cowering in a crumpled mess. ‘Look at this face, Milly,’ she said. ‘Does this look like a sad face to you?’

  Milly took her time scrutinizing her mum’s features. Her nose wrinkled as she smiled. ‘No, it looks like a happy face. A bit funny looking,’ she added for fear of sounding too soppy, ‘but not sad.’

  Helen couldn’t stop grinning and even after Milly had gone to bed and she had phoned John to warn him about their daughter’s change of heart, she kept her smile. John must have heard it in her voice and while he was none too pleased, he couldn’t and wouldn’t go against his daughter’s wishes. They both knew Milly too well to think they could force her into doing something she didn’t want to without suffering the consequences.