The Wish

by Alex Brown

  ‘That’s because we’re not fighting.’ Sam turned slightly to look at Chrissie, slinging his arm along the back of the sofa.

  ‘Or more accurately, she and I aren’t fighting either.’ Chrissie’s eyes met his momentarily before she glanced away again. ‘That’s what is really hard. She’s always better when you are around, Sam. You’ve always had the knack with her.’

  ‘You’re her mum, Chrissie, she loves you,’ Sam told her, desperately wanting to take his wife in his arms. But how would she react?

  ‘I’m not disputing that. And I guess I have been trying too hard to keep it all together …’ Chrissie hesitated, as if searching for the right words to say to him.

  ‘And you’ve done it all so well, Chrissie.’

  ‘I’ve had to.’

  ‘I know. And I didn’t mean it in a patronising way. Just that you’re a great mum. A lovely one—’

  ‘But she rarely gets the lovely mum these days. Just the grumpy and fretful one. It’s no wonder she hates me sometimes.’

  Sam slipped his arm from the sofa to settle around her shoulders, gently pulling her in for a hug and she didn’t stop him.

  ‘Let me stay with you tonight, Chrissie. Let me make love to you and close the distance I put between us.’ Sam braced himself for rejection, but Chrissie did the last thing he expected. She leant into him and buried her face in the groove above his collarbone. For a moment the two of them sat in silence. Close. Just savouring the feeling of togetherness. With Sam anxious not to break the spell as he inhaled her familiar scent. Yearning as he felt her body mould into his.

  But then the moment vanished when Chrissie pulled away and stood up.

  ‘Sam, look, I’m glad you’ve come back and … maybe I’m starting to realise that perhaps I do need help.’ She paused and placed a hand at her neck. He stood up in front of her. ‘That I can’t do all this on my own any more, that Holly needs us both. But I have to believe that you are really here to stay. That you won’t change your mind and tell me you’ve booked flights to Dubai or Barcelona or wherever … to look at another exciting new project.’ Wrapping her arms around herself, she turned her face away from him. Sam opened his mouth to speak. To protest. To say that he wasn’t going to do any such thing. But then swiftly remembered that he’d done precisely this before. And at least half a dozen times over the last few years. So he closed his mouth and studied the contents on top of the coffee table instead. ‘I’m sorry, Sam. I’m just not ready to try again yet. It’s actions not words that we need right now.’

  ‘I know,’ he said softly as he moved closer. ‘I get it. Really I do. Can I at least give you another hug?’ And he wrapped his arms around her, holding her tight as he closed his eyes and made a silent wish. That he’d get to do this every day. Hold her. Until they were both old and grey. That was his wish.

  ‘Come on,’ Chrissie untangled his arms from around her body and stepped back. ‘Let’s both go and say goodnight to Holly. She’ll be deliriously tired by now.’

  And so they did.

  Holly smiled contentedly as Sam leaned across the pink flamingo-patterned duvet cover and kissed her forehead.

  And for the first time in simply ages, he felt like a normal dad again.

  Chapter Fifteen

  On Saturday, in the tiny boxroom of Dolly’s cottage, Sam opened the old brown leather utility suitcase that he’d brought back with him from his visit to The Forstal Farmhouse. After lifting out a pile of yellowing papers – mainly school reports, letters and bank statements – from the suitcase, he found a clear plastic wallet with an expired driving licence inside and what looked like his NHS medical card. He reached inside the wallet, hoping that he’d had the initiative to store his blood donor card alongside it. That would have been sensible – to have medical information all together. But then Sam had never been one for doing things that made sense.

  Sam inhaled through his nostrils and then puffed out a long breath as he resolved to try again to sort things out. Properly this time. Holly was coming over tomorrow to help make fruit scones for the Tindledale WI afternoon spring tea that Dolly was hosting on Monday. And Sam had decided that he was going to talk to Chrissie, to find out what had happened with her blood tests and to suggest he should go along to the hospital with them for the next appointment. He was determined to demonstrate his intentions – actions spoke louder than words, after all, like Chrissie had said. It would show her that he was trying.

  Ahh, he unfolded a crumpled piece of lined A4 paper. It was one of Holly’s animal stories that she had written when she was much younger. This time about a unicorn. After smoothing out the paper, he read her words written in joined-up, but childlike handwriting, and smiled at the memory of that blissfully happy, hot summer not so long ago. Only six years. Time sure does fly when you’re having fun, he thought, then quickly berated himself for feeling cynical and sorry for himself. But somehow the past six years felt like an eternity, given how everything had changed so much. If only he had known then what he had to lose now, less than a decade later … perhaps he would have cherished it all so much more, and made better, wiser decisions. Instead of hiding behind the premise of providing for his family, making sure they had enough money and material things, when all the while he had been running. Running away from his other responsibility, which was to be there for them and face up to what his daughter was going through. To be present. He looked again at the words on the piece of paper in his hands.

  To Daddy.

  The Magic Unicorn by Holly Morgan.

  Age 7 years old and 11 months (nearly 8 years)

  Sam felt his chest tighten as he remembered Holly sitting on his lap outside in the garden, reading the story aloud to him and Chrissie, and being delighted by their enthusiastic oohs and ahhs in all the right places. They had clapped afterwards, and Chrissie had produced a pile of profiteroles with extra squirty cream that they’d devoured after their barbecue. The day had also stuck in his mind because, later, when Holly was in bed, he had got hold of the can of cream and squirted it down Chrissie’s top, prompting a lovely romp on the old sofa in the summerhouse. He remembered feeling so content on that sofa as they had lain in each other’s arms, watching through the open doors as the sun set on the horizon over the top of their happy home.

  Bringing his thoughts back into Dolly’s boxroom, he carried on reading, and had just got to the bit where the magic element of the story finally kicked in, when he heard a soft tap on the bedroom door.

  ‘Only me, love.’ It was Dolly, with a mug of tea in one hand and a plate piled high with a clotted cream and strawberry jam-topped scone in the other. ‘Thought you might like a mid-morning snack,’ she said, popping her head around the doorframe and placing the plate down on a nearby cabinet. ‘Still warm from the Aga, the scone is,’ she chuckled, quickly swiping her hands together to wipe a speck of cream from her fingers. ‘Holly is going to love them.’ Sam turned quickly to look at his gran, feeling concerned. ‘Don’t worry, I have a recipe for a special healthier batch for her with reduced sugar, wholemeal flour and grated apple and cinnamon. Topped with diabetic jam, they’ll taste absolutely delicious. And she can take pictures and snap about them on her phone to her friend Katie. Or however it is they communicate these days. You know how she likes to get involved in all that “styling”, as she calls it.’ Dolly shook her head in bewilderment, making her soft grey curls jiggle around her age-lined face.

  ‘Mmm, I’m impressed. And thank you, this tastes good,’ he said, through a mouthful of fruit scone.

  ‘Did you find what you were looking for, Sam?’ Dolly asked, coming properly into the room and sitting on the bed beside the suitcase.

  ‘Not yet, but I’m still searching,’ he started, before pushing the rest of the scone into his mouth and washing it down with a big gulp of the hot, sweet tea. Dolly patted his arm gently.

  ‘I saw Tony earlier this morning when I popped into the village to get the baking supplies,’ she said. ‘He mentioned Jud
e and Chrissie were in the Duck & Puddle the other night …’ Sam took another swig of the tea and then sat down next to her.

  ‘Oh, just the two of them?’ Sam couldn’t help himself.

  ‘Um, he might have said there was a man with them when he went back to the pub after having a curry with Barry …’ Dolly looked away.

  ‘I see,’ Sam replied, his fears confirmed, and he immediately wondered who the man was. ‘Did he know the bloke?’ Sam wondered if this mystery man had been a factor in Chrissie turning him down the other night.

  ‘I don’t think so. He didn’t say.’ Silence followed. ‘It was said in passing. Tony didn’t mean anything by it … only that it was nice to see Chrissie smiling. And you can’t blame him for wanting her to be happy. She’s been friends with his Jude since they were little girls.’

  ‘I know,’ Sam sighed.

  ‘Now, don’t be stewing on it, Sam.’ She looked at his face. ‘Come on. Chrissie wouldn’t carry on like that. Not in the Duck & Puddle. I wish I hadn’t mentioned it now. The man could very well have been with Jude …’

  Sam hoped she was right. And his gran had never been one for airing the family’s dirty laundry in public. He remembered years ago when his mother, Linda, had shouted her mouth off in the busy Post Office part of the village store when someone in the queue had told her off for tutting about the wait to be served. Linda had been in a hurry, apparently, and saw no reason to have to put up with the old lady, Hettie, who owned the haberdashery shop, taking forever to find the right change to pay for a single stamp. Dolly had heard about the commotion before Linda had even made it back home. And he had a vivid memory of them then getting into another quarrel about it because his mother had no sympathy for the fact that several of the older villagers were up in arms over poor Hettie being made to feel like an inconvenience.

  ‘Hmm,’ Sam roused himself, ‘you know, Chrissie had left Holly on her own when I went over there the other night.’

  ‘Really?’ Dolly looked surprised. ‘Well, it won’t have been for very long, I’m sure. Chrissie is a great mum, Sam.’

  ‘Yes, I know,’ he nodded. ‘I wasn’t trying to say otherwise. I was annoyed initially, after the ear-bashing she gave me for leaving Holly on her own. But I can see that Chris is just trying to give Holly some freedom – loosen up a bit with her. Think she realises that she’s growing up and needs a bit more independence.’

  ‘Yes. And now that you’re back, it’s bound to feel like everything has changed. The most important thing is for you to talk things through sensibly and calmly. You both want the same things for Holly so there is no need for arguments,’ Dolly responded. But Sam knew that was easier said than done. ‘Now, shall I give you a hand to find what you’re looking for?’ she asked, changing the subject and picking up one of his old school reports.

  ‘Thanks, Gran. I’ve been looking through all this stuff, to see if there is something in here that’s useful for Holly. Like my blood donor card. And I need to talk to Chrissie to find out about her blood tests. I’ve got a horrible feeling she isn’t a match for Holly, and if she isn’t then it’s doubly important that I am, if anything were ever to go wrong.’

  ‘There’s no reason to think that anything will go wrong though, son. Dr Ben was very reassuring about Holly’s prognosis,’ Dolly said. The last thing Sam wanted to do was to worry Dolly, but he had already told her what the doctor had said. ‘Didn’t he say that there is no reason to worry right now? That Holly is being well looked after? And Chrissie isn’t one to deliberately keep you in the dark,’ Dolly reassured him.

  ‘True. But if she already knows that she isn’t a blood match then I imagine it was a terrible disappointment. I really do need to talk to her.’

  ‘Well, she might have only found out recently and been trying to work out what it means. I’m sure she’s doing her best to muddle through it, just as you are,’ Dolly patted the top of his thigh affectionately.

  ‘I guess so,’ Sam said, putting his arm around his gran and feeling a rush of affection for her. Dolly could always be relied upon to see the positive in people. She was very generous like that. And he was barely ‘muddling through’ … ‘making a massive mess of it’ would be a much more accurate description.

  ‘Come on, stop feeling sorry for yourself. And let’s find that donor card.’ And she stood up and started rummaging through the suitcase. ‘And, come to think of it, I probably have your father’s old blood donor card knocking around somewhere – your mother didn’t want to hang onto any of his old papers after he died …’ She paused, as if pondering whether to pass comment on this fact, but instead continued with, ‘It might come in handy to show Dr Ben. You know, as an indicator of what your blood group is likely to be. Might make you worry less.’

  ‘Thanks, Gran. Don’t suppose you have Mum’s by any chance?’ Sam thought it was worth a shot. They might have been kept together or something, you never know.

  ‘I doubt it, love.’ She shook her head. ‘Hang on, I’ll be back in a jiffy, I think his papers are in an old hatbox in my bedroom,’ and she went to leave. ‘Ooh,’ she popped her head back around the door, ‘and I’ll book an appointment first thing on Monday to see if I’m a match.’

  ‘Gran, you don’t need to do that—’

  ‘But I want to.’

  ‘You might be too old though.’ The words were out before he had engaged his brain; he hadn’t meant to offend her.

  ‘Charming! Well, we’ll see about that. I’m as fit as a fiddle, me.’

  And they both laughed.

  Chapter Sixteen

  ‘Good morning, Mrs Morgan. This is your husband, Mr Morgan,’ Sam ventured optimistically. Having slept well for the first time in ages, he’d woken up with a renewed resolve. Things had been great the other night. Just like the old days. Singing and playing the guitar, and then he and Chrissie having a chance to properly talk without any recriminations. And there had definitely been a sea change in Chrissie. It wasn’t like she had totally cut him dead when he had wanted to make love to her – just that she needed more time. And so he was sure there was a seed of hope for their marriage now. And he fully intended on nurturing that seed.

  ‘Well good morning to you too, Mr Morgan.’ He knew that Chrissie was smiling at the other end of the phone, which was a great start to the day as far as he was concerned.

  ‘Chrissie, I just wanted to ask you something. I didn’t get a chance to the other night … it didn’t seem like the right moment.’

  ‘What’s that then?’ She sounded guarded now, so he knew he’d have to tread carefully.

  ‘I was talking to Dr Ben. I went to see him about a few things … we talked about me having some blood tests, just as a precaution in ca—’

  ‘Is this about Holly’s kidneys?’ Chrissie jumped in.

  ‘Yes. You know … if things don’t improve.’

  ‘What did he tell you? Did he say anything about the tests she’s been having? Because I’ve not been told yet. And I am her mother. I’d like to know too.’

  ‘Hang on, please don’t get upset. He didn’t tell me anything new. But isn’t it right that we both know about any developments, so that we can deal with it together?’ Sam swallowed, keen to keep things upbeat and nice between them. He’d promised Holly there would be no more arguments, and fully intended to stick to that. There was a pause at the other end of the line, as if Chrissie was mulling this over.

  ‘Yes … I’m sorry, you’re right,’ she then said in a softer voice.

  ‘I don’t want you to shoulder this all by yourself any more,’ Sam mirrored her voice. ‘I meant what I said. Actions not words, right? I do get it. I promise …’ He paused, letting his words sink in. ‘I was going to ask if you’ve had your blood tests done? To see if you’re a match.’

  Chrissie took a deep breath before speaking. ‘Yes, I have. And I can’t donate a kidney.’ Sam’s heart dropped.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘I’ve got hypertension, whic
h rules me out right now. And before you ask me why I didn’t tell you … well, there hasn’t been a good moment, it’s not something that you can just drop into the middle of an argument, or a squeaky rendition of “Shape of You”, is it?’

  Sam smiled ruefully, appreciating her attempt to make light of the situation, but Sam knew this wasn’t funny.

  ‘Oh love, I’m sorry – do they know why your blood pressure is high?’

  ‘It’s likely to be stress, Sam.’ The tightness in her voice was back.

  ‘Chrissie, stress can be beaten, and I promise that we’ll work on that too. Maybe we could go for a run, or take up yoga together—’

  ‘Sam! Enough already.’ Chrissie laughed. ‘I am working on it and Dr Ben has been great. But it’s pretty crap about the blood results. That would have made things much easier. It will be down to you to donate a kidney, it seems. But just the thought of it ever coming to that makes me feel physically sick.’

  ‘Me too. But this is just a precaution. Does Holly know anything about it?’ he asked.

  ‘Not specifically, but she’s not stupid and she knows how she is feeling,’ Chrissie lowered her voice.

  ‘Maybe I’ll check how she’s coping when she comes over later,’ Sam said.

  ‘That would be nice, Sam. But please be careful. Holly is pretty sensitive at the moment.’

  ‘I know and I will. I promise.’ And after saying goodbye he ended the call.

  *

  Holly took another bite of the scone before positioning it on a plate next to a mug of warm milk beside the Aga, aka Beryl the Peril. After carefully dusting just the right amount of cinnamon across the top of the milk, she selected her favourite photo app filter and took a few more pictures. Perfect. It was all coming together nicely. Just like her Get Mum and Dad Back Together in Time for My Birthday plan. And she hadn’t even really had to do anything much … it had sort of happened anyway, with Dad coming over and Mum joining in the singing. It had been a fab night. Just like before … She just hoped Mum didn’t go and ruin it all by being moany again, or nasty to Dad.