But as I swayed from side to side, clinging onto a metal pole, all I could picture were the good times: Scott listening to me animatedly talking about teddy bears, having a go at sewing a Ju-Sea Jem Bear and trying not to yelp in pain when he pricked his finger with a needle for the tenth time, giggling like a little kid as we tried to enact the famous, “I’m flying!” scene from Titanic on the back of a pleasure cruiser down The Thames, and the look of love in his eyes each time he kissed me.
When – if – he came crawling back to me, I wasn’t sure I could be that strong.
It was a little after 11.00pm when the text came through:
* From Scott
I can’t do this. I don’t know what I was thinking. I have a wife and two beautiful babies who need me. I choose them. We should never have got together. It wasn’t fair on anyone. I’m sorry for all the hurt I’ve caused you and my wife. You need to forget about me and get on with your life without me in it. Please don’t make it harder on us all by getting in touch again. It really is over. It was fun while it lasted but I have responsibilities to my family now and you need to let me fulfil them. Goodbye.
Chapter 16
Sam
Three months later – October
‘Ah! Dr Jones. We meet again. Fancy some company, Billy No Mates?’
I looked up from my lunch to see Tiff standing over me, holding a packet of sandwiches and a banana.
I smiled as I indicated for her to join me. ‘I actually did have company but he had to take a call.’
‘Whatever you say. I’ve got a favour to ask you.’
‘What sort of favour?’
‘Nothing illegal or immoral, I promise. Actually, it’s not really for me. It’s for my friend, Jemma.’
‘Not illegal or immoral? Sounds a bit dull.’
Tiff laughed. ‘You work in neurological sciences, yeah?’
I nodded.
‘What’s your specialism?’
‘Parkinson’s although I had a wider remit than that before I started here. Smaller hospital and all that. Why?’
‘Jemma’s mum’s been diagnosed with Parkinson’s. She’s seeing a consultant but Jemma’s worried that there’s something else going on with her – something more than the Parkinson’s – and I reckon she could do with talking to someone who knows what they’re talking about because Googling it is making her panic.’
‘Why doesn’t she just talk to her mum’s consultant?’
‘Her mum doesn’t live around here so she can’t go and see him. She tried to call him but he wouldn’t speak to her without her mum’s permission. She doesn’t want to ask her mum for permission because she doesn’t want to let on that she’s worried about her and that she thinks there’s something other than the Parkinson’s going on. Vicious circle.’
I pushed the remnants of my shepherd’s pie aside and took a sip from my bottle of water. It wasn’t the normal way of doing things and there were charities that Tiff’s friend could contact if she wanted to learn more. But I’d promised myself that I’d make more of an effort to get to know some people in London and here was an opportunity for another small step.
Tiff cocked her head on one side. ‘I’m being a bit too cheeky, aren’t I? You spend all day talking to people about this stuff. I bet the last thing you want to do is spend an evening doing the same, especially when you’re not even being paid for it. Although, I promise there won’t be any snakes.’
I smiled at Tiff. ‘Well, when you put it like that…’
Her eyes widened. ‘You’ll do it? You’ll meet Jemma?’
I nodded.
‘Oh my God! That’s fantastic. She’s had such a shit time of it recently after what that twat–’ She stopped abruptly. ‘Too much information and Jemma might not appreciate me telling someone she doesn’t know. Can we swap numbers and will you let me know some evenings you’re free?’
She stood up when we’d done that and shoved the rest of her sandwich in her mouth. ‘Thanks Indy. No rest for the wicked. Let me know those dates and thank you. Jemma’s going home tonight for a long weekend, but if you can do it mid to late next week, I know she’ll be really grateful.’
‘I’m sure I can manage something.’
Tiff grinned and blew me a kiss. ‘You superstar. By the way, we need to get our act together and actually go out for a drink one night. Three months of the occasional quick coffee or lunch is not what I had in mind when I demanded you accept me as your friend. We have to get drunk together and promise not to talk shop. I’ll tell you about my latest Tinder disasters and you can tell me about your fiancée. We need a proper getting to know you night out.’
I had to do it. It was the perfect moment. Okay, it wasn’t really as we were in the canteen at work surrounded by colleagues who might overhear. I didn’t want the sympathy vote for being the doctor who fled to London because he couldn’t cope with living in the town that reminded him too much of his dead fiancée. But it was a moment and I needed to take it. I took a deep breath. ‘About that–’
‘Shit! Is that the time?’ Tiff grabbed her mobile off the table. ‘I’m late. Sorry, Sam. Can you tell me later?’ Without waiting for an answer, she power-walked out of the canteen.
Balls. Another moment lost. I just hoped she didn’t think I’d been lying to her when I did finally get the opportunity to confess. I couldn’t bear people who lied, like my ex, Kirsty, who’d lied to me throughout our relationship. I wasn’t that guy. I had to set the record straight next time I saw Tiff. Top priority.
Chapter 17
Jemma
I’d no sooner got off the train on Thursday evening, ready for a long weekend at home, when I was jumped on. ‘Whoa! Sean-paws! You nearly knocked me over.’ I wrapped my arms around my little brother. ‘Are you okay?’
‘I’ve missed you,’ he said, clinging onto me like a limpet.
‘Where’s Mum?’
‘Waiting in the car park. There weren’t any spaces.’
‘How is she?’
Sean just squeezed me tighter and I kissed the top of his head. ‘Don’t worry. I’m home for four days. We’ll have plenty of time to talk.’
It was already dark so I couldn’t tell whether Mum looked tired or strained as she drove towards Bear’s Pad. I asked her how she was, but all I got was a quick “fine” before she fired a stack of questions at me about my day at work and the journey home: a clear sign that she didn’t want to talk. Hopefully it was only in front of Sean and she’d open up when he’d gone to bed. Something had definitely happened, though, because the atmosphere in the car was tenser than a gymnast’s buttocks.
‘Sean’s in bed, my phone’s on silent, the TV’s off, I’ve made the drinks and you have my undivided attention.’ I handed Mum her favourite teddy bear mug and curled up on the sofa with a cold can of Lilt.
Guilt was plastered all over her face as she sighed. ‘There was an incident. With Sean. He’s pretty upset.’ She wouldn’t look me in the eye. ‘It was nothing, really. Just a silly misunderstanding.’
‘Go on…’
She wrapped both hands around her mug and blew on her tea. ‘His cub pack are having a sleepover in the Scout hut and he needed to pay a tenner towards it. School are doing a couple of trips and he needed a tenner for them too. He’d been nagging me for ages, saying the deadline was due, but I kept forgetting to bring any cash home.’
Mum fell silent and stared into her tea. I took a sip from my can, wondering where the story was going because, so far, it all seemed pretty normal. Mum never had any cash on her and I remembered always having to nag her for bus fares and school dinner money when I was a kid. Perhaps she’d snapped at him for going on about it too much. Sean could be pretty persistent about stuff but, then again, couldn’t most ten-year-olds?
Finally looking up, she said, ‘I left Bear With Me early one evening to do the banking,
but I bumped into someone I knew on the way, got chatting, and the bank had closed by the time I got there. I left the money in my bag in the usual place in the hall. When I got round to trying again at the bank a couple of days later, I was £50 short. Next thing I know, Sean’s handing me slips confirming payment for the sleepover and the school trips. I hadn’t given him the money.’
I gasped. ‘You think he stole £50? Sean wouldn’t do that.’
She stared into her tea again.
‘Oh, Mum! Don’t say you actually accused him of stealing.’
‘What else could I do? He’s nagging me for £20 then, next minute, the trips are paid for and I’m £50 short. It had to be him.’
‘But Sean’s never done anything like that. He wouldn’t.’
She nodded. ‘I know. And I now know that it wasn’t him.’
‘How?’
‘I told Liv at work. As you know, she’s got two boys a bit older than Sean and I wondered whether either of them had started stealing or lying, thinking maybe it was a phase that little boys went through. Anyway, she reminded me that I’d spotted her at the bus stop the night I missed the bank. Her bus hadn’t turned up and it was raining so I offered her a lift home. The fuel light came on so I stopped off at Sainsbury’s to fill up because it’s on the way to Liv’s. I realised I’d left my purse at Bear With Me, but it didn’t matter because I had the banking with me.’
‘And you put £50 of petrol in the car?’ I tried not to sound angry with her as I said it, but I felt pretty aggrieved on behalf of my poor little brother, being accused of stealing so much money.
‘Yes. I still had the receipt in my bag with the banking.’
‘What about the sleepover and trips?’
‘It turns out I paid by cheque. I found the stubs in my cheque book.’
‘Oh, Mum! When was this?’
‘Middle of last week. I told Sean the truth, of course, and apologised to him, but I think he’s still sulking. I can’t say I blame him.’ She looked up again, biting her lip. ‘I shouted, Jemma. Really shouted. I didn’t recognise myself.’
I nodded slowly as I let the information sink in. I couldn’t recall a single occasion when I’d heard Mum shout. She’d never raised her voice when I was a child, not even when I’d cut up an expensive piece of mohair because I thought it would make nice rugs for my Barbie house. Not even when I’d knocked the teddy bear eyes storage container off the table, scattering hundreds of eyes all over her workshop shortly after she’d painstakingly sorted them into compartments based on size, colour, and whether they were glass or plastic. She’d argued with Dad, but I’d never heard her shout at him and he’d certainly given her just cause over the years, especially when it came to his attitude towards Sean.
‘What sort of day had you been having?’ I asked.
‘Not a good one, but not the worst. Definitely not the worst. I don’t know what happened, Jemma. I don’t know why I forgot about spending the money myself, or paying for the trips by cheque, and I don’t know what made me accuse my baby boy of stealing.’
‘Mum, I hate to say this, but do you think there could be something else? Other than the Parkinson’s, I mean.’
She frowned. ‘I’m not with you.’
‘Making you forget things. Could it be…’ I paused. I couldn’t bring myself to say the word that had been haunting me since that evening in the hot tub when Mum had talked about the lido. ‘I don’t know. A side effect maybe? Could it be worth mentioning something to Dr Steadman next time you see him?’
She rolled her eyes at me. ‘I doubt it. He didn’t show much empathy about the Parkinson’s so I don’t think he’ll give a damn about a couple of instances of forgetfulness.’
‘But it hasn’t just been a couple of instances, has it?’
‘It has.’
‘It hasn’t, Mum. There was the thing with your knickers at Dad’s funeral, and you put Sean’s football boots in the oven or something like that, you couldn’t find my birthday card, and then you talked about going to the lido on South Beach, and… What?’
Mum was looking at me, head cocked to one side, a strange expression on her face. ‘I admit to the knickers and the birthday card, but I think Sean’s winding you up about his boots. And I have no idea what you mean about the lido. I think it might be you who’s having memory problems, not me.’ She winced as she pulled herself to her feet. ‘I’m going to have to call it a night. Are you okay to lock up?’
‘I thought you’d already done that earlier.’
She frowned and shrugged. ‘No harm in double-checking, is there?’
I smiled back and tried to keep my voice light. ‘No. No harm at all. I’ll check. Night, Mum.’
‘Night, Jemma-bear.’
I pressed my head against the sofa cushions with my eyes closed, listening to her pull herself slowly up the stairs, while my heart broke into a thousand pieces. It was getting worse. She’d locked up. Definitely. She’d announced she was going to do it after tea. We’d even had a conversation about whether she’d rather put her feet up while I did it, but she’d insisted that exercise – no matter how little – helped her. I’d watched her head out to the back. Unless she’d got distracted…
I picked up our mugs and headed into the kitchen diner. The sliding doors to the deck were unlocked. Oh God! It was worse than I thought.
* To Tiff
Getting more worried about Mum by the minute. If you’re sure that your new pal Dr Jones doesn’t mind meeting with me outside of work, I’d really appreciate it. Can do any night next week except Monday. Thanks xx
* From Tiff
Crap! Sorry to hear it. He’s happy to meet you. I don’t think he gets out and about much. It’ll do him good xx
* To Tiff
He doesn’t think it’s a date, does he?
* From Tiff
Panic not. He’s got a fiancée. He’s just being friendly and helpful :)
* To Tiff
Phew! Thanks. Really appreciate it xx
* From Tiff
Any time. Drew says you have an objective for your evening with Dr Jones. As well as finding out about your mum, you have to find out if the fiancée is male or female. He says I’ve assumed female. He never talks about her and I don’t know her name so Drew’s still convinced the lovely Dr Jones is gay and would ditch his partner if he got to know Drew a bit better. He loves the idea of dating Indiana Jones! My cousin is a tart! Xx
* To Tiff
I’ll see what I can do but, after questioning Mum tonight and crashing and burning with it, I think sleuthing is NOT my area of expertise :(
* From Tiff
Hang on in there. I’m at the end of the phone if you want to talk about it before you’re back xx
Chapter 18
Sam
I rubbed my sweaty palms down my jeans yet again. Why the hell was I nervous? It wasn’t a date: it was some advice and guidance for a friend of a friend. Day job stuff. Easy.
My phone buzzed in my pocket.
* From Unknown
Hi. It’s Jemma! Hope you don’t mind but Tiff gave me your number. I got held up at work and I’m going to be about 10 mins late. Don’t want you to think I’m a no-show when you’re doing me a huge favour! Don’t know if Tiff told you what I look like but I’ve got long, dark, wavy hair, I’m 5’ 5” and I’m wearing a burgundy dress and black boots. What do you look like? Tiff unhelpfully told me you’ll be wearing a fedora, carrying a whip and hiding from snakes! Will be there asap. Thank you
* To Jemma
Ha ha ha! Tiff is hilarious. Not! Sadly, I look nothing like Harrison Ford or his alter ego. I’m blond and am wearing a grey t-shirt and jeans. I’m only a few minutes away so will grab a table. See you later. Sam
I put my phone away and breathed out slowly, trying to calm my nerves. It was the blind date th
ing that was causing them, wasn’t it? Although it wasn’t actually a date with Jemma, I was about to meet a stranger who I knew very little about which echoed of that first meeting with Nikki. Little had I known back then that a blind date that I’d tried so hard to wriggle out of would change my life forever. At least this Jemma person wasn’t going to have that sort of impact on me although, if she was as much fun as Tiff, maybe I’d have another friend in London and gradually start building up a new life. Without Nikki in it.
The door to The George and Dragon burst open twenty minutes later, blowing a swirl of leaves into the pub and Jemma Browne into my life. She pushed her windswept hair out of her face, looked around the pub, and beamed directly at me. I wondered how she knew it was me from my sparse description, but then I realised that the only other punters were an old man perched on a bar stool clutching a pint, a young couple snogging in the corner, a group of students, and an elderly couple seated side by side, staring into space.
‘Sam!’ she said, walking towards me with her hand outstretched. ‘I’m so grateful to you.’
I shook her hand. ‘It’s no problem. Can I get you a drink?’
‘No! Let me get you one. You’re doing me a huge favour and I’ll have to walk out and go home if you don’t at least let me buy the drinks.’
‘Honestly, you don’t have to do that.’
‘Yes I do and, if you don’t let me, I’ll dig my pet snake out of my bag.’ She winked cheekily and I liked her immediately. It was the same instant warmth I’d felt towards Tiff.
‘Okay,’ I said reluctantly. ‘But if we have a second drink, it’s on me. Deal?’
She pursed her lips for a moment then laughed. ‘You drive a tough bargain, but okay.’
Drinks purchased, we settled back into the corner booth where I’d been sitting before. She shuffled in her seat and bit her lip. The haunted expression and awkward mannerisms were reminiscent of so many relatives of patients who clearly wanted to ask questions but weren’t sure whether they should, especially in front of the patient. Even though her mum wasn’t present, Jemma probably felt just as uncomfortable.
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