Lost Angel

by Mandasue Heller

  He hoped.

  Ruth had spent the whole day cooking. She’d made her dad’s favourite honey-basted lamb, crispy roast potatoes, carrots, peas, and gravy; and sherry trifle for dessert. And, to keep her mum happy, she’d bought a bottle of her favourite whisky.

  Excited now when she heard the distinctive roar of her dad’s car pulling up outside, she lit the candles on the dining table and switched off the overhead light before rushing to the door.

  ‘Thanks for coming.’ She stepped out and gave her mum a hug. ‘It’s good to see you.’

  ‘You’d have seen me months ago if you weren’t too stubborn to apologise,’ Rita sniped. ‘And now I’m here, I’m not sure I want to come in,’ she added huffily. ‘We all know what a moody little so-and-so you are these days, and I don’t want to come in if you’re just going to tell me to get straight back out again.’

  ‘Shut up,’ Frankie ordered as he climbed wearily out of the car. He slammed the door shut and gave Ruth a kiss. ‘Happy birthday, love.’

  ‘Thanks,’ she said, waving them inside. ‘Dinner’s ready, so go straight through to the dining room.’

  ‘Dining room,’ Rita repeated scathingly under her breath. ‘And I suppose we’ll be having canapes in the conservatory an’ all, will we?’

  ‘Pack it in,’ Frankie warned her when Ruth went through to the kitchen. ‘This is our daughter’s night, and you’d best not ruin it after she’s gone to all this effort.’

  Rita sniffed and sat down without saying another word.

  ‘All right, son?’ Frankie held out his hand when Johnny walked in.

  ‘Yeah, fine.’ Johnny shook it. Then, nodding at Rita, he said, ‘Good to see you, Mrs H. How are you doing?’

  ‘I’d be better if I hadn’t been bullied into coming round here,’ Rita replied huffily. ‘And I wouldn’t mind, but I haven’t even been offered a drink yet.’

  ‘It’s behind you. Help yourself,’ said Ruth as she carried the lamb in on a tray, nodding at the whisky bottle that was standing on the bookshelf. ‘Will you carve, Dad?’

  Frankie glanced at Johnny. ‘Shouldn’t the man of the house be doing it?’

  ‘You always do the lamb,’ Ruth said coquettishly. ‘Anyway, I need Johnny to help me with the veg.’

  ‘Got him running round after you like a right little sap, haven’t you?’ Rita scoffed, pouring herself a half-glass of neat Scotch.

  It shot to the tip of Ruth’s tongue to say that men who loved their wives were supposed to help, and not just sit there and let them do everything. But she kept her mouth shut and smiled. This was a special night, and she wasn’t about to let her mother spoil it.

  When everything was on the table, Ruth handed a bottle of wine to Johnny and asked him to fill all their glasses. Then, sitting down, she reached for hers and said, ‘Thanks for coming, Mum and Dad. But I didn’t just invite you because it’s my birthday. I’ve got something to share with you.’

  ‘Don’t tell us you’re getting divorced?’ Rita blurted out gleefully.

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ said Ruth, flashing Johnny an as if smile.

  ‘Just shut up and let her talk,’ Frankie groaned.

  His voice sounded weird and Johnny frowned when he noticed how pale his face was. ‘Are you all right, Frankie?’ he asked.

  ‘Fine,’ his father-in-law murmured.

  But he clearly wasn’t, and Ruth forgot what she’d been about to say. ‘What’s the matter, Dad? Don’t you feel well?’

  ‘He’s got a bug,’ Rita informed her, adding accusingly, ‘I told him not to come, ’cos I know you’d get uppity about him passing his germs around. But you insisted, so it’s your own fault if you catch it.’

  ‘There’s nothing wrong with me,’ Frankie insisted, scraping his chair back. ‘Just need to—’

  ‘Oh my God!’ Ruth yelped, jumping up when he keeled over and fell heavily to the floor. ‘Dad! Dad!’

  Johnny rushed to Frankie and pressed a hand to his forehead. Frankie looked as though he was burning up, but his skin was cold and clammy and his breathing sounded laboured.

  ‘I’m calling an ambulance,’ Johnny said as he ran into the living room.

  Unconcerned, Rita reached for her glass and said, ‘Stop being so melodramatic. He’s only fainted. He’ll come round in a minute.’

  ‘You really are a bitch,’ Ruth hissed, kneeling beside her father and glaring up at her mother.

  Rita glared right back. ‘Watch your mouth, lady. You’re not too big to get knocked right back down off that pedestal you’ve put yourself up on.’

  ‘It’s coming,’ Johnny said, running back in. ‘Any change?’

  ‘No,’ said Ruth, still angrily eyeballing her mother. ‘No change at all.’

  By the time the paramedics arrived, Rita had finished her first drink and was halfway through her second. Too drunk to care by then, she switched on the TV and settled down in Johnny’s chair to watch it, leaving her daughter and son-in-law to go along to the hospital in her place.

  Ruth cried all the way, as scared by the fact that they had the full flashing lights and sirens going as by the fact that her dad still hadn’t come round. She wanted to stay by his side when they rushed him into the emergency department, but a nurse blocked her path and ushered her gently but firmly back out into the reception area. She told Ruth that she needed to go and give her father’s details in at the desk, and assured her that somebody would come out to see her as soon as they had assessed him.

  Ruth complained bitterly but she did as she’d been told. Then she paced the waiting-room floor, biting her nails and staring at the door every time anybody went in or came out.

  Johnny was already tired but Ruth’s pacing and the stressful vibes she was throwing off exhausted him, so he took himself off into a quiet corner, put his feet up and closed his eyes. But no sooner had he dropped off than a doctor came out to tell them what was going on.

  ‘Your father’s had a heart attack,’ he told Ruth gravely but simply. ‘And we think he may have suffered a stroke as well, although we’ll need to do some more tests to confirm this. In the meantime, I’m having him transferred to the ICU where he’ll be closely monitored.’

  ‘Can I see him?’ Ruth asked, a fresh flood of tears streaming down her cheeks.

  ‘For a couple of minutes,’ the doctor agreed. ‘He’s conscious, but only just. And please try not to upset him; we need to keep him as calm as possible.’

  Frankie was surrounded by machinery when Ruth and Johnny entered the resuscitation room. There were wires trailing all over him, and pads stuck to his grey-haired chest. Johnny looked at him as Ruth sat on the chair beside the bed and clutched her father’s hand. Frankie looked a good twenty or thirty years older than when he’d arrived at the house a few short hours earlier, and that made Johnny wonder just how ill he really was. The doctor had kept it light, but he had to be worried if he was sending Frankie to intensive care.

  ‘Trust you to go and ruin my birthday,’ Ruth scolded her dad softly. ‘All day I’ve been cooking that flaming lamb, but you couldn’t just say you didn’t fancy it, could you? No, you had to go and make a big scene and get yourself rushed into hospital. But don’t think you’ve got away with it, ’cos I’ll be putting it in the freezer when I get back, and I’ll be serving it up again when you come home. Do you hear me?’

  Frankie made a noise and gave her hand a weak squeeze.

  ‘Oh, Dad,’ she gulped, getting teary all over again.

  ‘Hey, you can pack that right in,’ said Johnny, coming up behind her and resting his hand on her shoulder. He grinned down at Frankie and shook his head. ‘What’s she like, eh? I’ve just heard the doc telling her that you’re fine – now here she is going on like you’re on your deathbed, or something.’

  ‘Johnny!’ Ruth gasped, appalled that he’d mentioned the D word. She winced when he dug his fingers into her shoulder. Then she realised what he was doing and forced a smile onto her lips. ‘Sorry, Dad, didn’t mea
n to sound so gloomy, but you know what I’m like. You say it’s a spot of rain, I call it a thunderstorm.’

  A nurse came into the room and smiled apologetically. ‘Sorry, folks, you’ll have to say your goodbyes. We’re ready to take him up to ICU.’

  ‘Come on.’ Johnny reached for Ruth’s hand and pulled her to her feet. Winking at Frankie, he said, ‘Don’t be taking the mick and stopping in here any longer than you have to, ’cos there’s no way I can handle the pair of them for more than two days. Okay?’

  Frankie gave a slow blink in reply.

  A porter came to move the bed.

  ‘Just a minute.’ Ruth pulled her hand free of Johnny’s and leaned over her dad. ‘I didn’t tell you my news.’

  ‘Can’t it wait?’ Johnny asked, conscious that the nurse was keen to get things moving.

  ‘No.’ Ruth shook her head. She grasped her dad’s hand again and smiled through her tears. ‘I’m pregnant,’ she told him. ‘You’re going to be a grandad.’

  ‘You what?’ Johnny gave her a questioning look. ‘Really?’

  Ruth nodded.

  ‘Wow, that’s great,’ he said, hugging her. ‘Do you feel okay?’

  ‘Fantastic,’ she told him truthfully.

  Frankie made a noise and Johnny saw his hand move weakly. Realising that his father-in-law was gesturing for him to come closer, he leaned down.

  Frankie swallowed loudly and tried to say something. A frustrated look came into his eyes when he couldn’t get it out, but he didn’t give up.

  ‘Look after them for me,’ he managed after a moment.

  ‘Course I will,’ Johnny promised. Then he added quietly, ‘But you’ll be home before you know it. Then you can do it yourself.’

  Frankie held his gaze for several long seconds, then gave a feeble wave of his hand. Aware that they were being dismissed, Johnny put his arm around Ruth and took her home.

  16

  Frankie suffered another stroke during the night and the family were called back to the hospital in the early hours to say their goodbyes. Against the odds, he pulled through – but not without losing the use of the entire left side of his body. His speech was also affected, but his mind was clearly intact, and the frustration at not being able to make himself understood blazed from his eyes as he tried to grunt his wishes to Johnny.

  When Big Pat turned up later in the morning, he greeted Rita and Ruth and then pulled Johnny to one side to ask how the boss was really doing.

  ‘Not too good,’ Johnny told him honestly, thinking that there was no point trying to put a positive gloss on it. ‘But he got through the worst of it, so he’s obviously stronger than he looks. Don’t worry, we’ll look after him,’ he added, giving the big man’s arm a reassuring squeeze. Pat and Frankie had been friends for a long time, and this had to be hard for him.

  They both glanced back at Frankie. Ruth was sitting beside the bed holding his hand, a forced brightness in her voice as she chattered to him. But Rita had taken herself into a corner, and was clearly more interested in whatever she was doing with her mobile phone than she was in her husband. Frankie’s gaze, however, was fixed firmly on Big Pat, and when their eyes met Pat gave a slight nod before turning back to Johnny.

  ‘Come out here for a minute,’ he said quietly. ‘We need to talk.’

  Johnny followed him out and closed the door. ‘What’s up?’ he asked, folding his arms.

  ‘The boss hasn’t been feeling right for a while,’ Big Pat told him. ‘He didn’t say anything to you lot ’cos he didn’t know if it was serious or not. But he’s been making plans – just in case. And he’s just given me the go-ahead.’

  ‘Go-ahead for what?’ Johnny asked, wondering how Frankie could have told him anything when he couldn’t even talk.

  ‘Handing over the reins,’ said Big Pat. ‘To you.’

  ‘Eh?’ Shocked, Johnny drew his head back and gave him a disbelieving look. ‘What are you talking about?’

  ‘He wants you to take over.’ Big Pat spelled it out. ‘Just until he’s up and running again. If that don’t happen . . .’ He shrugged. ‘Well, we’ll just have to take it from there.’

  Johnny exhaled loudly. This was completely unexpected, and he wasn’t sure how he felt about it. He and Frankie had been rubbing along all right, but he’d had no clue that his father-in-law saw him as anything more than a capable car-valeter and picker-upper, so he was stunned to realise that Frankie considered him worthy of stepping into his shoes.

  ‘How come he didn’t ask you to do it?’ he mused. Johnny was sure that Big Pat would make a much better job of it, given that he’d been involved in the business from the off and knew everything there was to know about it.

  ‘I’m not family,’ Big Pat replied – sounding almost regretful, Johnny thought. ‘But I’m the next best thing,’ he added loyally, ‘and if you take it on, I’ll have your back just like I’ve had his all these years.’

  Johnny glanced through the window. Frankie was staring back intently at him, waiting for an answer. Johnny breathed in deeply and nodded.

  ‘Okay, I’ll do it. But only till he’s back on his feet.’

  ‘Good lad.’ Big Pat gave Johnny an approving slap on the shoulder before pushing his cuff back and checking the time. ‘Right, I’d best get over to the yard. Let me know when you’re ready and I’ll call everyone together for a meet.’

  ‘Everyone?’ Johnny frowned. As far as he knew, the business consisted of Frankie, Big Pat and the guy who helped him to prep the cars, Johnny and Dave, and – when they weren’t locked up or injured – Del and Robbie.

  ‘Not here.’ Big Pat glanced around warily. ‘I’ll gen you up later.’ He extended his hand ‘Call me if there’s any change.’

  Johnny promised that he would and waved him off before going back into the room. He looked down at Frankie and, seeing what looked like relief in his eyes, squeezed his useless hand.

  ‘I’ll do my best by you,’ he said quietly. ‘You’ve got my word on that.’

  ‘What are you saying?’ Rita demanded. ‘And what were you and Big Pat whispering about out there?’

  Johnny glanced down at Frankie again. If he was to prove that he was capable of running things in his father-in-law’s absence, he guessed he should start as he meant to go on.

  ‘Nothing for you to worry about,’ he said, using the words that he’d heard Frankie use so many times when she had been questioning him.

  Ruth snapped her head around and gaped up at Johnny in amazement. But she didn’t censure him, he noticed.

  ‘How dare you!’ Rita bristled. ‘Don’t think you can get away with talking to me like that just because Frankie’s out of action. I’m the head of this family now, and you’d better remember your place or you’ll be out on your arse like that.’ She snapped her fingers in Johnny’s face.

  ‘No, he won’t,’ said Ruth, standing up to show that she was on her husband’s side. ‘Johnny’s his son-in-law, so that makes him next in line.’

  ‘And I’m his wife,’ Rita reminded her furiously. ‘And everything’s mine if he dies. Not yours, and definitely not his. Mine. And now he’s lost his mind,’ she went on, as if Frankie had lost the power of hearing as well as speech, ‘I’m going to get a court order putting me in charge of the business, the bank accounts, the house – everything.’

  Frankie made a loud grunting noise, and they all turned to look at him. Rita tutted after a second and carried on with the argument.

  ‘I’ve already phoned the solicitor, and—’

  ‘Shut up!’ Ruth barked at her. ‘I’m trying to hear what my dad’s saying.’

  ‘Sounds like gagaga to me,’ sneered Rita.

  ‘Shut your mouth, or I’ll shut it for you,’ Ruth warned her.

  Rita’s mouth flapped open, but she wisely held back the retort that had jumped to the tip of her tongue when she saw the look in her daughter’s eyes. There was anger there, and hatred – both of which she’d seen many times before. But there was als
o an unfamiliar strength, as if a volcano had been building inside Ruth for a lifetime and was a hairsbreadth away from erupting.

  ‘I’m not staying here to be spoken to like this,’ Rita muttered, raising her chin proudly and snatching her handbag off the chair. ‘I’m going home.’

  ‘I’ll see you later, then,’ Ruth called after her as she marched to the door. ‘And you’d best clear all that junk out of our room, ’cos we’re moving back in.’

  Rita stopped in her tracks. ‘Over my dead body.’

  ‘I’m not arguing about it,’ Ruth told her firmly. ‘Dad needs looking after, and you obviously can’t be trusted seeing as you’ve already as good as written him off, so it’ll have to be me.’

  ‘We’ll talk about this later,’ Johnny murmured, in total agreement with Rita – over his dead body would he live with that bitch again.

  ‘I’m sorry, I know I should have discussed it with you first,’ Ruth apologised quietly. ‘But I can’t leave him with her. It’s not permanent, just until he’s better. And you will get better,’ she said with conviction, turning back to her father. ‘’Cos we need you.’

  ‘He’ll be fine,’ said Johnny, putting his arms around her when her tears began to fall.

  ‘I need to do this,’ Ruth sobbed. ‘But our house is too small, so it’s got to be there. Please don’t say no.’

  Johnny sighed and looked down at Frankie. ‘Is that what you want?’

  ‘What are you asking him for?’ squawked Rita. ‘I’m the one you should be asking, and I say no.’

  Ignoring her when he read the affirmative in Frankie’s eyes, Johnny turned back to Ruth and said, ‘I’ll sort it out.’

  ‘Thank you,’ she murmured, as if it could never have gone ahead without his say-so.

  It was strange for Johnny to know that he was in control, and he needed to get out of there so that he could get his head around it in peace.

  ‘I’m going to pop down to the yard and sort some stuff out,’ he told Ruth. ‘Will you be all right making your own way home?’

  ‘I’ll stay with Dad for a bit,’ she said, dabbing at her nose with a tissue. Then, reaching up, she kissed Johnny on the lips and whispered, ‘I love you.’