by Wade, Calvin
“Don’t worry love,” said my father to my daughter, “your Daddy has just had a horrible day, he hasn’t made Granddad sad. Granddad understands.”
“Right!” said my Mum clapping her hands, “I think it’s about time me and your Granddad took you two back to ours! There’s some ice cream and chocolate at ours with your name on!”
“Chocolate and ice cream with our names on! Brilliant!” said Melissa, “I’ve never seen chocolate or ice cream with my name on!”
“Well you will at our house!” Mum said smiling, “Come on kids! Give your Mummy and Daddy a kiss goodbye! Be gentle with your Daddy though, Jamie!”
The children came over and tenderly kissed me on the cheek, Jamie following Melissa’s lead, then both gave Jemma big hugs and kisses. My father then came over and kissed the top of my head before my Mum very gently kissed the tip of my nose as if she was kissing it better, like when I was a child.
Mum and Dad both hugged and kissed Jemma warmly. The bond between the three of them had grown so close an outside observer would have thought Jemma was their daughter rather than me being their son. Mum sometimes rubbed Jemma up the wrong way with her bluntness, but Jemma adored her.
“Thank you so much for everything today,” Jemma said to my Mum, “I don’t know whether I would have coped without you!”
“Come on Gwanny!” said Jamie, pulling on the back of my Mum’s blouse, “ we need to go and have the chocolate with Jamie on!”
“How are you going to manage that?” Jemma whispered to Mum.
“Don’t worry, we have raspberry sauce, my grandchildren will be having ice cream with their names on! Jemma, I’ll ring you tomorrow to see if they’ll let him out.”
“Mum, I will be coming out tomorrow whether they like it or not!”
“You just take it easy, Richard. If the Doctor’s tell you that you need to rest, then you need to rest. What’s another day when you have the whole of your life ahead of you?”
With that, Mum and Dad led the children out the ward and Jemma returned to sitting on a chair at the side of my bed. I knew what was coming next. The interrogation. It was time to get everything out in the open and once we took everything to pieces, I just hoped we could put it all back together again.
Roddy
It was like a scene from a soap opera. Kelly was in intensive care, attached to various wires, drips and breathing apparatus. The Doctors had said she had swelling on her brain (they called it an “Edema”) and the next forty eight hours would be critical. In soap operas, the scenes normally played out with a five minute awakening, a declaration of love, a relapse, a flatline on the cardiograph and then a crash team arriving to work tirelessly, but ultimately unsuccessfully on the body. I kept visualing those scenes with Kelly as the leading lady and then hated myself for even imagining Kelly dead.
Death had already claimed two victims from this tragedy. The driver of the other car, an eighteen year old boy called David and a seventeen year old female passenger called Vanessa had already died. Vanessa died at the scene, David several hours later at Ormskirk hospital. Grieving family and friends were littered around the hospital but I tried to keep my distance in case sorrow was infectious and their mourning subsequently became mine. Death scares me. I see it as a journey to permanent oblivion. I fear my own death, but then, as now, I feared Kelly’s death more.
As the minutes and hours passed in intensive care, I would not leave Kelly’s side. There was no family rushing in to visit her, since we had begun working together, I was Kelly’s family and I was wary of abandoning her, even for a few moments for a toilet break, in case those moments turned out to be her last. Kelly needed someone there who loved her, just to be there for her, just to hold her hand.
When I was little, I used to play with my toys silently. I didn’t talk to them or make them say things to each other. There was just silence. My parents thought this was odd and I remember one day, when I must have been about seven, my Mum asked me why I did not speak to my toys as I played with them.
“Because they can’t hear me!” I replied.
For the first twenty four hours in that hospital, I did not say a word to Kelly because I felt she could not hear me. As I say, I held her hand as I somehow felt she would be able to sense that it was me, but other than speaking to the hospital staff, I said nothing. I listened though. I listened to Kelly’s breathing and I also listened intently, to what the Doctor’s and nurses said to each other and to me about Kelly’s condition. It is not an environment of putting arms arounds shoulders and reassuring you that everything is going to be alright. The consultants are so blunt that you think some of them stop understanding that they are dealing with real people. I even asked one of the nurses if all the staff learn to stop caring. They don’t.
“The day I stop caring will be the day I stop coming in,” was her response.
In those first twenty four hours, the impression was that I needed to hope rather than to expect Kelly to recover. Surgery was mentioned. Two consultants discussed doing a “decompressive craniectomy” which sounded like something you would perform on a scubadiving stork with the bends, not on a person.
One consultant, after clarifying that I was Kelly’s boyfriend, an honour I had bestowed upon myself to receive more information, had explained things in layman’s terms. She explained that Kelly’s brain was injured from the impact from the other car and had swollen. The Doctor’s concern was that the pressure in Kelly’s brain could mount, pushing the soft brain tissue against her hard skull, stopping her blood from circulating properly and potentially causing permanent damage. What I read into this, was that Kelly’s life was in danger and even if she did survive, there was no guarantee that the old Kelly would be back. The hospital staff brought me a blanket that night and allowed me to sleep in a chair by Kelly’s bed. I only slept in snatches though, as I kept replaying those soap opera scenes then realised I was within a dream and shook myself out of it.
The following morning I changed tactics. My logic was probably completely wrong medically, but in the same way I had persuaded myself as a kid that if I watched the whole of the “Country Life” butter advert my whole family would die, I persuaded myself that if I did not speak to Kelly her brain would continue to swell and her death would be all my fault.
I started talking and would not stop. Constantly re-assuring her that only good times lay ahead. I wanted to persuade her brain to stop seeking the self-destruct button and look forward to the good times that were around the corner.
“Kelly Watkinson! Open your eyes and look at the state of me! I look like someone has been rubbing a balloon against my head! This ain’t the comfiest place you’ve ever brought me to! But look at you! If you get through this, Kelly Watkinson. No…let me say that again, WHEN you get through this Kelly Watkinson, I reckon the NHS are going to get you to model their gear, because somehow you even manage to look good on a bloody ventilator! You’re somethin’ special, Kelly, you really are!
I heard your crash from my bedroom in the hotel. I know you’re going to call me a big soft girl when you’re better, but I’d had a bit of a cry. Don’t tell no-one. I ain’t known for being soppy. The boys in the pub will take the piss! I just hated leaving you with Dick. I can’t describe it, Kelly, it just felt wrong on every possible level. I just went back to my room and started blubbing. Me, crying over you, even before all of this! It’s ridiculous, isn’t it? We’re only supposed to be friends! I just couldn’t help it though, Kelly. I know you don’t have the same feelings for me that I have for you, but right now I would gladly be ‘just good friends’ for the rest of our lives, as long as you get yourself better. I would even be happy seeing you with someone else, as long as you were happy, that would make me happy. I ain’t going to be jealous, I’ll just be happy for whoever it is. If you’re happy Kelly, I’m happy.
It won’t be Dick your marrying though, will it? He’s already married. You probably know that now, don’t you? He’s in here, in this hospital. He
’s got a gorgeous wife as well, would run you a close second, Kelly! Bloody cute kids too. They should be modelling clothes in catalogues they are that cute. I saw them all coming in last night to see him, that time I nipped out for a jimmy riddle. The only time I nipped out for a jimmy riddle! I was bursting, Kelly! He ain’t going to die, old Dick! He’s pretty OK, just let you take the hit, he did. Knobhead! I hope he told you he was married. I mean, what was he even doing meeting you in the first place? He’s married! Why should he have two women, when some of us can’t even get one?! It ain’t right that, is it?
I reckon I’ll always blame him for this. If he hadn’t shown up, those two kids would still be alive and you wouldn’t be in here, all wired up, teetering on the brink. Do you know what I wish? You’d really tell me off for this one, Kelly! I wish it was Dick that had died in that accident instead of those kids. OK, I know that’s not a nice thing to say, especially because he has a family and those gorgeous kids don’t deserve to grow up without their Dad, but I hate him, hate him for what he has done to you. I even wish he’d died when he had cancer. None of this would have happened then. His pretty wife would have married someone else. Someone else who didn’t go off for a secret rendezvous behind her back.
No, no, forget I said that. I don’t really mean any of that. How can I wish someone dead who I don’t even know? He might be the kindest man on the planet for all I know and his wife might be a right crazy bitch! Like Mr Rochester! See, I’ve been reading! I thought I’d read Jane Eyre to impress you. I didn’t tell you that, did I? I was just waiting for an opportunity to bring it into our conversations. I didn’t like it though. A book about ugly and mad people, what’s that all about? I ain’t got nothing against Richie boy. Not really. It’s just that I love you so much, Kelly, it sometimes brings out the deep rooted caveman in me!
“She, my woman, you leave her alone!”
If only you were my woman, Kelly. If only, eh?There’s a lot of if only’s at the moment. If only I’d trusted my instincts when Richie showed up. If only I’d stayed with the pair of you. If only you hadn’t got a lift in his bloody car. If only that other car hadn’t been coming the other way. Too late for if only’s now. It’s all happened. If only I’d just done one thing differently though, I probably wouldn’t be here now, at your side in hospital, talking complete crap!
I reckon one day we might laugh about all this Kelly. Maybe one day when we are sat next to each other, in an old people’s home, holding hands, colostomy bags touching, seventy years wed, we might have a right old giggle about this then. We might laugh until our false teeth fall out. Silly young fools doing stupid things that brought us together.
In seventy years we might laugh, but not right now. I just feel like crying again now, Kelly! Sobbing my little heart out! Please don’t get worse. I couldn’t bear it if you got worse. I really couldn’t.”
I took a hanky out to wipe my nose. I had tears and snot everywhere. I took a moment to re-compose.
“I heard a nurse say your sister’s coming in, in a bit. That’s a turn up, isn’t it? Can’t avoid her now, like you have been doing, can you? Don’t worry though, I’ll make sure she’s nice to you. Maybe all this will bring the pair of you back together. Close again, like you said you were when you were kids. Maybe there’ll be a happy ending. That’s what we all need right now, isn’t it Kelly? A happy ending. A happy ending where you become good friends with your sister again and maybe even a happy ending where you learn to fall in love with me. If you did, Kelly, I would squeeze every last drop of enjoyment out of every single second of your life.
Do you know what? I think you know how much I love you, Kelly and the reason I think you keep me at bay is because it scares you. You don’t think you can live up to the reputation. I tell you what though, you’re going to get better and I am going to earn your love. I am going to give you the confidence in yourself to love me, knowing you deserve my love. I’m telling you now, everything is going to be perfect. A proper happy ending for all concerned. You just need to get rid of that fluid now! Come on Kelly! How hard can it be to get rid of fluid? I used to get rid of a bit of fluid every night when I was a teenager and from where I did all my thinking too! Just get better, Kelly! Your happy ending is all wrapped up and waiting. Just come and get it whenever you want.
Jemma
Fuming was probably too mild a word. Absolutely livid probably did not go far enough. Once Dorothy and Charlie had disappeared with Melissa and Jamie, it was time to discover what the hell had been going on. I vowed to maintain my composure.
“So…have you had a nice day, Richie?” I asked with a soupcon of sarcasm.
Richie gave me his look. The look that swore and began and ended with the sixth letter of the alphabet.
“I’ve had better.”
“Funnily enough, I have too. Kelly’s in intensive care, did you know that?”
“No,” Richie breathed out heavily, his day had just become even worse.
“That surprises me or maybe it doesn’t. I’m really not sure if anything surprises me any more. Can I just ask, how was my sister before she was hit head-on, whilst travelling in my seat in our car?”
“She was OK. A little fed up, but OK.”
“Fed up?”
“Because life was not turning out to be as exciting as she’d hoped.”
My next statement was spontaneous and I regretted saying it, but I have always been the outspoken one.
“Well, she’ll be delighted now then, won’t she? Nothing like a fatal car crash to liven up a boring existence!”
”Jemma, I wouldn’t have thought Kelly would be seeing it quite like that.”
I had already broken my vow.
“Come on Richie! Look at the evidence! Brought up by her sister because her alcoholic mother was neglectful and abusive. Killing her mother at sixteen then running off around the world, for God knows how long, whilst her sister is wrongly accused of the murder and is then found guilty and serves her prison sentence. Then, several years later, returns for secret meetings with the very same sister’s husband and during one of the meetings, is involved in a fatal car crash that now threatens her life….not exactly dull, is it?”
“I suppose not.”
Time to ask the sixty four thousand dollar question.
“Have you been having an affair with my sister, Richie?”
As the words left my lips they did not seem real. This was a question for an episode of a Jerry Springer show, it should not be a question I should be asking my husband. I was half expecting all my fears and dreads to be coming true, but Richie did not become tearful and apologetic, begging for a second chance, he just looked me in the eye and replied,
“No! It wasn’t like that Jemma.”
I was relieved but still unconvinced.
“Then what was it like?”
“It was a one-off meeting. A meeting that changed how I viewed my marriage.”
From my perspective, the first sentence was a good one, the second one just antagonised me. I did not want to hear that a secret meeting with my long since disappeared sister had resulted in a shift in how Richie viewed our marriage. I wasn’t even sure if he meant this as a positive or a negative. I did not intend my response to be rhetorical, it just came out that way as I spoke.
“For better for worse. For richer, for poorer. In sickness and in health.”
“Jemma, do you want me to tell you everything, absolutely everything, warts an’ all?”
I could feel myself welling up. I am a tough cookie on the outside, I have to be, I have had so many years practice at it. I am conditioned to having a strong outer shell, but it can be penetrated. At that moment, I did not feel like being tough, but I knew for my childrens sake more than anything else, I needed to be. Richie did not see even a hint of a tear. Adrenalin kicked in.
“Richie, as things stand, I am looking for signs of life in our marriage and I can barely feel a pulse. I trusted you. I thought you were an honourable man. A man wor
thy of bringing up my children, in a manner that I was not brought up myself. You are no longer the man that I thought you were. I think you had better tell me everything, warts an’ all and let’s see where that takes us. Maybe I’ll think you’re less of a prick once you’ve finished. I wouldn’t count on it though!”
“I wanted to feel loved, Jemma.”
I was always unimpressed when Richie went into self-pitying mode! Life with kids is busy and I did not have time to dedicate to massaging his frail ego nor did I have the inclination to moisten up as often as an East European whore on a Friday night in the Reeperbahn.
“Richie! Don’t make this about my failings! If you’re just going to go over the same old boring ground about needing the physical side of a relationship to feel loved, then to be frank, I’d save your breath. My life is about caring for my family and especially my children, it is not about pampering you and screwing you every time the mood takes you. We’ve been over and over this and it bores me, Richie.”
“Jemma! Shut up!”
This caught me off guard.
“I beg your pardon!”
“Just shut up! We have spent the last couple of years bickering and sparring, but not really talking and definitely not listening. We both just keep thinking about our next line to come back with. For once, let me just speak. If you can just listen and then I’ll completely shut up and you can then say whatever you want back. OK?”
“OK.”
“So you’ll let me speak without butting in, Jemma?”
“Yes, go on, talk away. I’m all ears.”
“Right, when we were at school, I’ve told you before, I used to hate you. I thought you were an outspoken, pompous, arrogant bitch, who liked nothing better than her own reflection. I thought you were gorgeous on the outside but ugly within.”
“Charming!”
“Jemma, stop butting in!”
“Carry on then!”
“OK. I didn’t like you at all, but it wasn’t based on factual knowledge, it was based on assumptions. As you well know, I started “going out” with your sister, Kelly and initially, as I got to know you better, my opinion didn’t really change. You remained outspoken but I didn’t really care much whether you were nice or not, as I only had eyes for your sister.
