by Jane Asher
‘What stuff?’
‘You know, that each one has a whole universe inside it or whatever. Maybe he’s really cool. Down to a few atoms to think about. Nearer to the mystery of it all and all that.’
Susie smiled at him. ‘You’re very clever, Robbie, and I know what you’re trying to say. But I still think it’s unbearable. He used to be a complete, moving, functioning human being. Now he’s a shell. He may be in pain, or frightened. He’s a mind without a body – that’s no sort of life.’
‘I’ll tell you one thing, Susie. It’s a real lesson to enjoy every minute, isn’t it? Grab things while you can.’
Susie took a breath as if about to speak, but then hesitated and after a moment let the breath out again in a small sigh. Suddenly she bent her head down and kissed him, longer and not so gently this time, then held his head in her hands as she looked at him and spoke quietly and seriously. ‘Yes. Yes it is. You’re right.’
It was a long time since the three of them had been together. Eleanor felt rather uneasy, guessing that Sophie had asked them both to meet her in Barbara’s flat for a purpose. She had been so hard to talk to lately, so much colder with her than in the days before the accident. She thought back fondly to their museum visits and shopping trips: Sophie had seemed so completely hers then, so ready to absorb everything she taught her – so grateful. But since the accident something had happened that Eleanor couldn’t put her finger on, and although she still clung to the all-important image of the three of them – she, Sophie and whatever was left of John living together in the country – she sensed that it might not be as easy to achieve as she had thought. She patted the chair next to her and spoke as cheerfully and confidently as she could.
‘Here, Sophie, come and sit down. You look tired.’
‘No, I’ll sit over here, thanks Eleanor. Oh – and I’ve been meaning to say for some time – I’d like to be known by my real name again, if you don’t mind. I’m back to Susie from now on.’
‘What?’ exclaimed Eleanor, filled with more fear than she could account for by the announcement. ‘Why on earth do you want to do that? Sophie’s a much better name for you – it suits you. It’s elegant and – and classy, just as you are.’
‘Eleanor, I’m sorry. You were very kind to me and I really appreciate all you’ve done for me, but, well, I think the shock of Dad’s accident, as well as a couple of other things that have been happening, has made me realise that I got a bit lost for a bit. Mum, I’m really, really sorry. There’s nothing wrong with Susie – it’s a lovely name. And there’s nothing wrong with saying “pardon” or talking about your dinner when it’s at lunchtime.’
‘Oh, Sophie really!’ said Eleanor. ‘This is childish.’
‘No, wait a minute. You were teaching me to be a snob, Eleanor, and I –’
‘I was not!’
‘Yes you were. Face it. And I don’t like it. I don’t like myself for having gone along with it. And the clothes you got me were too smart for me. I like to be more casual, more – more easy. Don’t think I’m not grateful, but I just feel you were trying to turn me into something that I’m not.’
‘You’re talking a lot of nonsense, Sophie.’
‘Susie, Eleanor, I’m Susie. Please.’
‘You’re talking a lot of nonsense and I won’t have it. You’re the one who’s being a snob, my girl. What the hell is wrong with learning how to speak correctly? Clarity, beauty and precision are some of the qualities of the wonderful English language that we are privileged to speak, and if I’ve begun to teach you how to use it beautifully and correctly then that’s nothing to be ashamed of. And you’re talking rubbish about the clothes; they’re perfect for you and you’ve begun to look wonderful. Don’t spoil it Soph—Susan. Don’t throw away all that we’ve learnt just because this terrible tragedy has confused you. I’ll look after you – I’ll give you everything you deserve. And when your father gets better we’ll all be together and—’
‘No!’ Susie answered firmly, ‘I don’t want you to look after me. Can’t you see? I’ve got a wonderful mother and father and you’re in the way. He left you because you’re old-fashioned and snobbish and cold, and because you didn’t—’
‘Susie!’ interrupted Barbara. ‘Don’t! Don’t talk like that to Eleanor. You mustn’t say things like that. You have no right to. What happened between your father and Eleanor and me is very private and personal. I’m sorry it’s all been so difficult for you but you’ve got to understand that these things are much more complicated than you can imagine. You’re very upset, and it’s been terrible for all of us. But you mustn’t take it out on Eleanor.’
‘I don’t need your help in defending myself, thank you, Barbara,’ said Eleanor. ‘As it happens, Susan, you are utterly wrong. John never did leave me, as you put it. He’s still my husband, morally and legally. He and your mother have been – what do you call it nowadays? – co-habiting for many years, but they were not, are not and never will be married. He is married to me.’
There was a pause. Eleanor expected Susan to break down, to be horrified and shaken by the discovery that her parents had been carrying on an adulterous relationship and that she herself was a ba—was illegitimate. But the girl simply looked calmly back at her in silence for a moment or two, then sighed a little before she spoke.
‘I don’t think anything you three have done or will do could surprise me any more. I simply don’t care. It doesn’t matter to me. I am taking charge of my own life now. There’s something else I need to tell you. I’m moving in with somebody. I’m going to live with somebody.’
There was a moment’s silence, then Barbara smiled over at Susie.
‘Is it Robbie, dear? Are you going to live together?’
‘Yes, Mum. It’s Robbie. And I’m really happy about it. His room’s not far from here, Mum, you know that, don’t you? And he likes you a lot. So we’ll be coming to see you lots of the time. You won’t be lonely, I promise you. And then when Dad gets a bit better—’
‘NO!’ shouted Eleanor. ‘Just a minute. Don’t I have any say in this? Who is this boy and why haven’t either of you told me about this?’
‘You’ve met him, Eleanor. He’s the guy I introduced you to at the hospital. A couple of weeks ago. When we went to have a drink together. Do you remember?’
‘No, Susan, I can’t say I do. You didn’t introduce me to—’
But she stopped, her eyes flicked anxiously at the two of them, and she blinked a few times before going on. ‘You only introduced me to one of the patients. The man in the wheelchair.’
Susie said nothing, but gave a small smile and tipped her head on one side as she kept looking at Eleanor.
There was an uncomfortable silence. At last Eleanor took a deep breath and brushed some imaginary crumbs off her lap.
‘I can’t believe, Susan,’ she said, as she kept looking down at her hand as it went on sweeping across the fabric of her skirt, ‘that you’re seriously suggesting to us that you intend to move in with the young man in the wheelchair that I met briefly downstairs. I’m sure he’s a perfectly charming young man, but I can’t believe you are stupid enough to take on the problems and responsibilities of such a thing. And I’ve got nothing against disabled people, you know me well enough to believe that, I’m sure. But you have no idea what you are taking on, Susan. No idea at all. And he’s entirely the wrong type for you in any case, I’m sure you can see that.’
‘Why, because he’s “common”?’
‘Oh really, Susan, don’t be ridiculous. It’s nothing to do with that. He’s just not the right person for you to be with, that’s all. I have quite different plans for you. You can’t throw away your life like this, Susan. You can’t.’
‘Eleanor, I’ve said I’m sorry, and I mean it. I know you imagined everything differently. We all did, I suppose. But everything’s changed now – surely you can see that? And you know nothing at all about Robbie. Nothing at all.’
‘You’re coming to
live with me, Susan, you know that. We discussed that. I can give you a far better life than – I can give you the sort of life you deserve. We’ll have fun together – we always do, don’t we? I want you to meet the sort of young men that I know can make you really happy. And your father is going to need you around; going to need your strength and your love. You wouldn’t want to do anything to upset him further, would you? I’ll need you there to help me look after him, once we get him home. And I know Barbara would want the best for you. I’m sure she can understand that if I offer to—’
‘Eleanor, stop this, please. I don’t want the sort of life you were going to give me. I don’t think I ever did – even when I was going along with it all. It was just a bit of fun, really.’
Eleanor looked back down at her lap. Something in the girl’s tone had suddenly convinced her of the uselessness of her protests and she sat quietly for a moment. When at last she spoke again her words came out muffled and indistinct.
‘Sorry?’ said Susie.
But Eleanor didn’t reply, and after a second or two Susie bent over in her chair and peered up into the woman’s face. What she saw made her sit up quickly in painful embarrassment and pity.
‘Oh God, Eleanor. Don’t cry. Oh don’t cry – that’s awful.’
‘Sorry,’ said Eleanor quietly, her voice sounding strangely strangled by the effort to stop crying. ‘I just said – you’re all I’ve got now. I can’t cope with your father all on my own. Nobody knows what he’ll be like when he gets better. I need your help, Susan. I need you with me to—Oh don’t leave me, Susan. Please don’t leave me.’
‘I’m not leaving you, Eleanor. But I won’t be blackmailed like this. It’s my life and you’ve taught me to be firm, haven’t you? Not to be frightened of what other people want from me? And, anyway, Eleanor, who’s to say that Dad will be going back to live with you? If he gets better enough – which nobody knows anyway – who’s to say he wouldn’t rather go to live with Mum? All the time. Which may be what he’s wanted for a long time.’
Eleanor slowly lifted her mottled face and gave Susie a look of absolute terror. The girl had voiced the horror that secretly haunted her, and hearing it spoken out loud gave it a reality that was almost unbearable in its dreadful implications.
Chapter Twenty
‘Will I be able to take him home? I mean, if things progress as well as they have been doing; if he continues to be physically stable and so on? Is there any reason why I shouldn’t nurse him at home?’
Eleanor looked earnestly into Sister Egan’s face and waited anxiously for her reply.
‘It’s a huge responsibility to take on,’ the sister answered. ‘Just the physical side of things is enormously hard work.’
‘But you don’t understand. I’ll be able to get him full-time nursing. We are – well, we’re what you’d call comfortably off. And the insurance cover John took out was excellent. I’ll have plenty to be able to afford proper care for him. Everything it takes to look after him for – for as long as it takes.’
‘I see. Well, obviously, it’s a possibility. We have several families who have taken their loved ones home in just such circumstances. Some people find it very satisfying to look after their relatives at home. And, of course, in many cases it’s far more comfortable – and comforting – for the patients themselves. There’s no particular reason why that shouldn’t be possible, Eleanor. But do think carefully about just what you might be taking on.’
‘Yes, I will.’
Although Eleanor was again uneasy at meeting Susan and Barbara at the same time, at least she was on home ground this time. She sat in the upright chair beside the desk in the small sitting room and looked at the two of them where they sat opposite her in the armchairs. It was the first time Susan had been inside the flat, and Eleanor was enjoying the looks of puzzled incredulity that the girl was still finding it hard to cover.
‘So this is your flat,’ said Susie, looking around her. ‘It’s so weird – exactly the same layout, but backwards. And it looks so completely different. And all these years you were just—Oh it’s so strange. So very strange.’
‘Yes,’ answered Eleanor briskly, ‘but I don’t think it’s just the looking-glass layout that makes it look so different, Susan, is it? Good taste. That’s what it’s called. Something you were well on the way to understanding before you got pulled back into the—Sorry. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to start on that. I don’t want to argue with you. With either of you. It’s important we all work together for John’s sake. To do the right thing for him. Help him. I have no bitterness, now, to either of you.
‘Barbara – I shall, of course, see that you continue to receive the allowance John has been giving you all these years. Extraordinary, isn’t it, that he could have arranged that so easily and I never suspected anything? It’s quite clear, now it’s been explained to me, how stupid I was. A little more attention, a little more questioning and I needn’t have been kept in the dark all this time, need I? Fancy, even the accountant knowing all about it. How cleverly you all arranged everything, didn’t you? But never mind. Don’t leave money matters up to the men, Susan, as we did in my day. Make sure you watch every penny – you never know what peculiar doings may be happening right under your nose, do you?’
The other two glanced at each other uneasily. ‘Dad would want Mum to have everything she needs, you know that,’ said Susie. ‘You needn’t feel you’re doing us any favours. We can go to law to fight for what—’
‘Now, now, Susan. Don’t be so defensive. They tell me John’s will makes adequate provision for all of us. But let’s hope it never comes to that. I’ve just told you I have no intention of stopping your little allowance. Or the payments on your flat. Everything can go on just as before. I want us all to be friends. To work together for John, as I said.’
‘Yes, Susie, don’t make things difficult. Eleanor’s trying to make the best of things. I think we should, too.’
‘Thank you, Barbara. Now, there’s something very important – and delicate – that I want to discuss with you both. As you know, John is able to answer yes and no to us now. I’ve watched Rae with him and I think I’m ready to have a go myself. Rae says he has great trouble spelling out words with his buzzer even when she speaks the alphabet out loud to him, so it may well be that the only way he can communicate with us for some time is going to be through answering yes and no to whatever questions we put to him. That obviously puts a huge responsibility onto us. Onto those of us that –’ she looked directly at Barbara with a strange little smile on her face as she went on – ‘that love him. There’s something – something very difficult that I want to ask you both.’
‘I can’t bear it. I can’t bear seeing him like that. Poor Dad – I can’t help worrying that he’s uncomfortable or lonely or frightened. Do you think he’s hurting? Do you think he knows what’s happened to him?’
‘Well, Susan, that’s part of what I want to talk about. It started when I saw a newspaper article about a poor young man who was like your father. His parents were able to communicate with him by using just the same buzzer as Rae is using now. And they talked to him about all sorts of things. But they said there was one question – one question that they just didn’t dare to ask him.’
There was silence as the other two stared at her.
Then Barbara spoke. ‘What, Eleanor? What was it?’
‘They didn’t dare ask him whether he wanted to live or not.’
There was another silence, even longer this time, and Susie dropped her head onto her chest and closed her eyes. They sat there for a minute, not looking at each other, then Barbara brushed a hand across her forehead and shook her head.
‘What, Barbara?’ asked Eleanor. ‘Did you say something?’
‘I was just thinking. I’m not sure we should ever ask that, either. If that’s what you’re going to say, Eleanor. I don’t think I want to know that. There’s nothing we can do, even if he really doesn’t want to go on, is there
? I mean, there’s no way we can—’
‘Of course there is,’ Eleanor answered firmly. ‘There’s plenty that can be done. You wouldn’t let an animal go on in pain and suffering, would you? There are plenty of ways. And it happens all the time.’
‘So what are you saying, Eleanor?’ asked Susie.
‘I’m saying I think we should be braver than that family. I’m saying I think we should ask him. Just once. And then think about what should be done. If he wants to live, if he can stand it now, then that means he’s going to make it; we should be positive and help him to cope with it all. But if not – well, I know what I would do. And I have a feeling Susie feels the same.’
The girl looked at her. ‘Oh, wait a minute – I never said that. I mean, it’s true, I can’t bear to think of him suffering and frightened. I don’t want him to suffer, but – Oh God, I don’t know. It’s horrible. I just can’t bear to think about it.’
‘I have a suggestion,’ said Eleanor. ‘I am, after all, his wife. Whatever else may be the complications,’ she added quickly, sensing that Barbara was about to interrupt, ‘and, as John’s wife, I think I should be the one to ask him. I think I should ask him, clearly and straightforwardly, whether he wants to go on—’
‘Oh God!’ said Barbara, and gave a little smothered sob into her hand.
‘—and I think we should abide by whatever he decides. No, just a minute,’ she said firmly, as Susie began to speak. ‘Listen to me a minute. If he is happy to go on living, to make the best of whatever may be in the future for him, then I don’t feel we should ever ask him that question again. We’ll know then that he is capable of coping, and although there’ll obviously be bad times ahead, when he’ll feel he can’t bear it, we’ll know that he can. Do you understand? I think we owe it to him. Otherwise he has no way of telling us what it’s like for him. If he tells me that he doesn’t want to live, then of course we’ll have to give him time before we – I mean, in that case we’ll have to ask him again, several times, over weeks or months, before we can be sure. And then I’ll manage – something. But otherwise, I think I just ask it the once and then we never mention it again. And we don’t discuss this with anyone else. If he can’t bear it, if he really can’t bear it, then I shall find a way. Of – arranging things.’
