The Carmel Sheehan Story

by Jean Grainger

  ‘No, no that’s okay, Marlena, I’ll find him. I don’t want to disturb him if he’s with a patient. Er…is Mrs Johnson’s son there?’ Carmel lowered her voice, even though the entire area was empty.

  ‘No. He was here this afternoon, seems he took a lot of her things, jewellery and so on, and left. The staff told him that the end was close, she’s been in and out of consciousness all day really, but he didn’t seem to care, he didn’t even say goodbye to her, and now he’s not picking up his phone. He told them something like he won’t be back…’ Marlena’s normally perfect English became more accented if she was upset. ‘He is so awful, this man. Really not a nice man.’

  ‘Yep, you’re not wrong there.’

  Carmel made her way to Mrs Johnson’s room, deciding she would just peek in. If Sharif was attending to her, then she would leave and wait for him at home, but he could just be sitting with her. He was insistent that nobody should leave this earth alone, so when patients had nobody, it was often Sharif who held their hand as they took their last breath.

  It was late by now, most of the night staff were on, but they were quiet and the lights were dimmed. The door to Mrs Johnson’s room was slightly ajar and, as she suspected, there he was, sitting beside her bed, her small hand in his.

  He looked up as she entered and sighed.

  ‘You’re back,’ he whispered, ‘I was worried.’

  She kissed the top of his head and sat beside him.

  ‘I’m sorry. I went to Ireland to see Bill. I asked him to speak to Julia, to call this whole thing off.’

  Sharif turned and gazed intently at her.

  ‘And?’

  ‘And he did what I asked. He told her to stop everything, or she’d never see him or the girls again, and he threatened to report her to the Board of Management of the school. He also told her to find a way to get Derek Johnson to withdraw his case as well.’

  ‘Really?’ Sharif’s brow was knitted in confusion, ‘Why would he do that for you, for us?’

  ‘You know, it was strange. We had a good chat, actually, probably the first one ever. I told him I didn’t want the farm. He said he was sorry, that he hadn’t really been in a position to marry again, and he shouldn’t have. He was kind and wished me all the best, as I did him. It was amazing, really.’

  He gestured to her to move outside as Mrs Johnson stirred but resumed her peaceful sleep once more. Her breathing was shallow but she seemed not to be in any distress. Once out in the quiet corridor, he whispered, ‘That all makes sense. Johnson stormed in here today, very agitated, furious I’d have said, and he took whatever Mrs Johnson had, money, jewellery, and when Julianna, the staff nurse told him that his mother’s condition had deteriorated, he basically told her to eff off and stormed out. We’ve tried calling him several times this evening, she won’t last too much longer I would think, but his phone is switched off. Julia must have taken Bill’s threat seriously.’

  ‘Well, the way he spoke to her, I was there, he wasn’t messing around. Bill isn’t a man for idle threats. Either way, it’s over. Oh, and he said he’s not going to be difficult about the divorce, just have our solicitor send whatever he needs to sign and he’ll do it.’

  Sharif drew her into his arms, something he never did within the clinic.

  ‘You’re amazing, do you know that? Simply amazing. I can’t wait to be married to you.’

  ‘I know.’ She grinned, winking at him. ‘Now, would you like me to sit with Mrs Johnson for a while? You take a break?’

  ‘No, I’m okay. She and I go back a long time. It won’t be long now. You can come in with us if you like, or are you exhausted?’

  ‘No, I’m fine. I’ll just go and call Joe, he and Luke are out visiting some more McDaids in Reading or somewhere before heading back to Ireland tomorrow. I texted him from the taxi, he was worried too.’

  ‘I know. I’m so happy and grateful that you managed to solve this. You really should have told me your plan, though…’

  ‘You’d have tried to talk me out of it.’ Carmel was matter of fact.

  ‘Well, maybe I would, but please, no more solo runs, okay? We’re a team and we make decisions together.’

  ‘Are we having our first fight?’ she grinned.

  ‘I hope not because if today is anything to go by, I’ll be on the losing side every time.’

  ‘You might do well to remember that.’ She smiled at him and squeezed his hand.

  She walked away down the corridor to an alcove with easy chairs and a sofa.

  She scrolled and pressed call.

  ‘Carmel, so you turned up?’

  She could hear the grin in his voice. Briefly, she outlined the events of the day, and both he and Luke were delighted. It sounded like they were having a great time and so she left them to it and returned to Sharif.

  Mrs Johnson’s breath was very ragged now, and noisy. Sharif had explained to her before that the loosening of mucus in the airways causes what is commonly called the death rattle. Her skin appeared paler too, and her hands were cold, Carmel sat on the other side of the bed from Sharif.

  She seemed a little more agitated than earlier, and Sharif spoke soothingly to her.

  ‘It’s alright now, Dorothy, you can go. Everything is all right with the world, everything is fine. Slip away, you’re free to go.’

  She never opened her eyes, but seemed to take a deeper breath and exhaled slowly. Instantly, her face became more peaceful, she seemed to release all her pain in that last breath.

  Sharif sat holding one hand and Carmel the other. A few moments passed, and he stood and took her pulse and noted the time of death on her chart. Carmel watched him brush her hair back from her face and lean down to kiss her gently on the forehead.

  ‘Thanks for all you did for me, and for this place. Godspeed,’ he whispered.

  He notified the morgue team and the all too familiar process began.

  Quietly, Sharif took Carmel’s hand and together they walked home.

  Epilogue

  The day dawned bright and clear and Carmel allowed herself to luxuriate in their large bed for a few moments before getting up. It felt strange to sleep alone, but Nadia insisted that she should spend the night before her wedding away from Sharif. He, Joe, Nadia, and the rest of the McDaid’s were staying at a hotel a few miles away.

  She switched the alarm off and threw back the covers. The wedding was going to be at noon and Ivanka was coming to do her hair and makeup. Her dress was so simple it would be on in a moment. Nadia had helped her choose and she was delighted with the raw silk strapless gown. It was fitted to her waist and then fell to her ankles so gracefully she felt like a princess.

  ‘I think I’m a bit long in the tooth for princess dresses,’ she said ruefully when the saleswoman suggested it originally, but at Nadia’s insistence, she tried it on. It was perfect on her and there and then she decided she would wear it. So what if she was forty? She’d never dressed up like this before and she was only doing this once.

  Nadia had been so understanding last night when she said she wanted to be alone before the wedding, just to go over to the little chapel and have a talk with her mother. Perhaps it was her Catholic upbringing and all the time spent in churches, or maybe not, but she felt close to her there. Nadia said Dolly often went there to be alone as well and today she wanted to feel that connection before all the excitement started. She’d sat there, for an hour, and just chatted to her mother, and for Carmel, her mother was there with her. When she came back to the apartment, she found Nadia in the spare room, looking at the photo of Jamilla.

  The older woman was embarrassed to have been caught, ‘I’m sorry, Carmel dear, this must look awful, like I’m wishing things were different, but I assure you…’

  ‘Nadia, I understand. Jamilla was a huge part of Sharif’s life, and of yours and Khalid’s as well, of course she is going to be on your minds today. Please, don’t be sorry.’ Carmel wanted to reassure this woman who had been so welcoming and kind to
her.

  They stayed up later than they intended, drinking chai and talking about Jamilla, Khalid, and, of course, Dolly, and it was lovely.

  Nadia had left for the hotel earlier that morning.

  As she made her way into the shower, there was a knock on the door.

  She sighed, much as she loved everyone at Aashna, she hoped it wasn’t anyone calling to wish her luck or anything, and immediately regretted the thought. What she would have done this time last year for some friends, someone to love, a home of her own. She opened the door to a UPS delivery man asking her to sign for a smallish box he proffered.

  The box was addressed to Carmel Murphy, a name she hadn’t used for years, and she didn’t recognize the writing. She opened the box with a knife and was intrigued to shake out an ‘On your Wedding Day’ card and another box, this one containing a Waterford crystal large empty photo frame. She opened the card,

  ‘To Carmel and Sharif, I wish you all the best on your wedding day. I hope you have a very happy life, you deserve it. The frame is for your wedding photograph.

  Best wishes,

  Bill.

  She sat down and stared at the present, incredulous that Bill would have gone to such trouble. The frame was almost identical to the one she dusted every day on his mantelpiece of him and Gretta, and for a moment, she was transported back to those empty lonely days.

  Bill had kept to his word, Julia and Derek Johnson disappeared, he never even turned up at his mother’s funeral, and once the divorce was granted, she wrote to Bill telling him of her wedding plans and thanking him for his cooperation. She heard nothing in reply until now.

  She thanked him quietly and went to get ready. Life really was so strange.

  At her kitchen table, she sat alone, savouring the peaceful solitude. She’d come so far, from a child of the state to the wife of a man incapable of loving her in any sense, to here. Nobody could have predicted her life path. For the millionth time, she wished Dolly could have lived to see this day, but it was not to be. She said a prayer for her, and for Brian, and asked them to watch over her and Sharif, today and always.

  And then it was time. Ivanka had outdone herself, and as Carmel looked in the mirror, she thought, you look lovely. Not, not-too-bad for a kid from an orphanage, or passable if you don’t notice the flaws, but really, really, lovely, and she felt proud. She was so happy to marry Sharif, she loved him with all her heart and he loved her. He had given her everything, this beautiful life, but she owed him so much more than that. He gave her the confidence that most kids get from their parents, that sense that she is worthy and precious, and under his love, she grew up.

  When Joe arrived, he simply stared at her, beaming.

  ‘Well, my darling girl, you look radiant, absolutely glowing with happiness.’

  They walked arm in arm across the lawn to the marquee erected for the wedding. Oscar was a humanist celebrant, so they asked him to perform the ceremony, and everyone she loved was gathered inside waiting for her.

  ‘Ready?’ Joe smiled down at her and squeezed her arm close to him. She nodded.

  All eyes turned to her as she entered the beautifully decorated marquee, and her mother’s voice, singing Que Sera Sera, whatever will be will be, the future’s not ours to see, Que Sera Sera recorded at her last ever party, accompanied her forward to her future.

  THE END

  What Will Be

  The Carmel Sheehan Story – Book 3

  What Will Be

  Copyright © 2017 by Jean Grainger

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever including Internet usage, without written permission of the author.

  This is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, or events used in this book are the product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual people, alive or deceased, events or locales is completely coincidental.

  Book design by Maureen Cutajar

  www.gopublished.com

  Paperback ASIN: 1987410556

  Chapter 1

  Carmel sat on the side of the bath trying to breathe normally. Sharif was in the living room watching a documentary about whales, and Nadia was happily surfing the internet on her new tablet. Nadia had decorators in her place, so she was spending a bit more time with Carmel and Sharif to allow the workmen to finish the job quickly. Jen had called Carmel to tell her the exciting news that she was pregnant again. Carmel was thrilled for her sister, of course she was, but why did the news bring stinging tears to her eyes and a pain in the pit of her stomach?

  She gazed at her reflection in the mirror over the sink. She looked upset; Sharif would know something was wrong if she came out now. Her naturally blond hair was shiny and sleek, having just been to the hairdresser’s today, and she would touch up her makeup, but no matter how she looked, he had a way of seeing past all of it, into her soul.

  She’d have to pull herself together. She was forty-one years old, for goodness sake, she’d had her life transformed in ways she could never have imagined, and she a had a home of her own, a loving family, friends, and the love of Sharif, so why on earth was she feeling so despondent? She knew the answer, though she didn’t even want to admit it to herself. She wanted a baby.

  ‘Carmel, do you want some tea?’ Sharif tapped gently on the bathroom door. The programme must be over.

  ‘Eh, yeah, thanks, I’ll be out in a minute,’ she called.

  ‘Is everything OK? You’ve been in there a long time…’ She heard the concern in his voice.

  ‘Yes, fine. I’m...reading something on my phone,’ she lied, reddening, even though there was nobody to see it. She just wanted him to go away, for a moment or two, to give her a chance to recover.

  She tried to keep it together, to not cry.

  It was so peculiar, so strong, this longing for a child, and the feeling had taken her totally by surprise. She had never imagined herself as a mother. She’d thought her only chance at motherhood had been her failed attempt with her ex-husband Bill’s girls nearly twenty years ago. But even though they were only little when they’d lost their mother to cancer and Carmel and Bill married, the girls had been monopolised by their aunt. There’d been no room for Carmel.

  Now that she’d found such happiness with Sharif, she felt frustrated with herself. Why couldn’t she just enjoy it? But she couldn’t. All she wanted was a child of her own, just one—a boy, a girl, she didn’t care.

  Being raised in state care in Ireland meant she’d never had a family, never felt part of anything, and now that she was married for love, at long last, things should’ve been perfect. Sharif was her soul mate, no doubt about it, and his mother Nadia had become almost a surrogate mother to Carmel, as well. Nadia had been best friends with Carmel’s birth mother, Dolly, for so long, she was able to bring Dolly alive through her stories. Nadia still felt Dolly’s loss keenly, and she sometimes expressed frustration at knowing how close they came to reuniting Dolly with Carmel. But it wasn’t to be. Dolly died months before Sharif finally found Carmel on Facebook. He had promised Dolly he wouldn’t give up the search, and he was true to his word. After she died, Nadia and Sharif had helped Carmel in every way imaginable, giving her a life, a home, helping her connect with Joe, her dad, and Jen and Luke, his children. She had so much more than she’d ever imagined she could. They would have done it anyway, even if she and Sharif had not fallen in love, but the fact that they had was a happy coincidence.

  The hospice they all ran together, Aashna House, was so busy but such a rewarding place to work, she should have been content. More than content. She should’ve been doing cartwheels. But here she was crying in the bathroom because her sister, who she’d only known for a year, was pregnant.

  Carmel was forty-one and Sharif was forty-six, so they were no spring chickens. He didn’t have any children—his first wife had died, and afterwards, once he came out of the cloud of grief, he threw himself into creating Aashna. When he and Carmel
had talked about children, ages ago, he seemed to be under the impression that that ship had sailed, and he was mildly regretful but not sad. He was just so grateful and happy to have found love a second time, that was enough. At the time, Carmel said she’d never envisaged herself as a mother, because she was afraid to say what she really wanted. The thoughts swirling around her head at night, as Sharif slept beside her, told her she would probably be hopeless at parenting anyway—she had no experience. What would someone raised in an institution know about being a proper mother? The care workers in Trinity were fine, and even the nuns were all right, but you wouldn’t describe any of them as maternal. She wouldn’t know where to start to be a mother, she knew that, but nothing would make the yearning disappear.

  She was on the pill, and apart from that one conversation with Sharif, the subject was never raised again.

  Something had come over his face that day they talked about kids, something she couldn’t read, and she was afraid to pry. After all, he’d plucked her from her miserable marriage and delivered letters from Dolly, who had spent her life looking for her only child, to no avail. Apparently, the loss of her daughter was the heartache of her life and the years spent searching and getting nowhere meant she’d died unfulfilled. The thought of it all made Carmel happy and sad in equal measure. She would have loved to meet her and regretted deeply the fact that her mother was unable to find her, but the knowledge that she hadn’t been abandoned as a child, discarded like something unwanted, served to heal some of the broken bits inside her.

  She took a deep breath and tried to bring herself back to the present. She needed to pull herself together. She was afraid Sharif would think she wasn’t happy, or that she was ungrateful. She knew deep down he would think none of those things, but the insecurities she carried, deeply ingrained by twenty years of state care, followed by seventeen years of an empty, cold marriage, were not easily erased.