by Annie Lyons
‘Thank you, Connie,’ says Edward, and Connie smiles at him.
After she has gone, Diana chuckles. ‘Edward Darcy, you’re such a flirt. I’ll let you off, but only today.’
Edward tries to look innocent. ‘You have to be nice to the nurses, my darling. They are modern-day angels and anyway, you do know I only have eyes for you, don’t you?’
‘Oh stop it,’ says Diana with a giggle.
Rachel and Emma roll their eyes at one another and laugh. They eat their breakfast and sip their tea perched around Edward’s bed. It reminds Rachel in a strange way of Christmas morning when they would all pile into their parent’s room. After opening their presents, their mother would make toast and let them eat it in their bed for a treat, ‘but only if you put the crumbs on Daddy’s side’. If today’s situation weren’t so terrifying, thinks Rachel, it would actually be lovely and one of the rare occasions she gets to spend time on her own with Emma and her parents.
‘Right,’ says Steve, brushing toast crumbs from his chin. ‘I better call work and let them know what’s going on. Shall I give Sue a buzz?’
Rachel nods. ‘Yes please and ask her if she’s OK to have the twins today and thank her and tell her I owe her.’
Steve goes off to make his phone calls and Emma turns to her mother. ‘Mum, why don’t you go and freshen up. We’ll stay here with Dad, won’t we Rach?’
‘‘Course,’ says her sister.
Diana looks over at Edward, unsure and a little frightened. ‘You go, my darling. I’m not going anywhere,’ he says.
‘All right, but I won’t be long,’ says Diana plucking her handbag from the floor. ‘I’m just going to powder my nose,’ she adds which causes Emma to nudge her sister in amusement. When Diana has gone the girls sit either side of their father. He looks inquiringly at them.
‘So, how are my girls? Did you sort out your problems with Martin and Steve?’
Rachel and Emma exchange glances and using quick-thinking sibling telepathy, decide to lie.
‘Everything’s fine, Dad. Isn’t it, Em?’
‘Absolutely,’ says Emma. ‘Very fine.’ Rachel frowns at her unconvincing reply.
‘You never were very good liars, were you girls?’ says Edward with a smile.
‘Oh Dad, I’ve made such a mess of everything!’ cries Emma flinging herself at his chest.
Rachel shakes her head in annoyance. ‘Emma, this is hardly the time!’
Emma sits back, wiping her face with the back of her hand. ‘No, probably not. Sorry, Dad.’
‘Don’t be silly. What have I told you a hundred times? I just want you to be happy.’ The girls nod. ‘And I can see that you’re patently not, but do you know what I also see?’ Emma and Rachel look at him expectantly. ‘I see the solution to your worries right in front of you. Do you? You just have to take the courage to admit what they are. The secret to a happy life isn’t actually that complicated. Do you know one of my favourite things in life?’
‘Fiona Bruce?’ quips Rachel.
Edward chuckles. ‘Well, she is rather special, isn’t she? No, I tell you what it is. It’s when you watch those wonderful children of yours, Rachel, when they don’t know you’re watching them.’ Rachel nods. ‘They get so absorbed in their little worlds and nothing else matters. They are just content in the moment, rather than looking for the next thing. Do you see? I know that life gets taken over by life sometimes, we all have to pay our bills and battle along, but strip it all away and what are you left with?’
Diana has come back into the room now closely followed by Steve. Rachel and Emma wish they could talk more but the moment has passed.
‘How was Sue?’ she asks Steve.
‘Fine, she says you don’t owe her a thing and she is happy to have the kids but that Alfie has been a bit upset this morning.’
‘Oh, right.’ Rachel looks round at her father.
‘You should go and sort out the little man,’ says Edward. ‘Tell him that grandpa sends him a big squeeze.’
Rachel feels a bit shaky and teary. ‘OK, but you have to give it to me to pass on to him,’ she says, putting her arms around her father and holding him close.
‘Don’t be so hard on yourself, wonderful girl,’ he whispers. Rachel stands up and wipes her eyes.
Steve pats Edward’s shoulder. ‘I’ll tape the game for you tonight,’ he says.
Edwards nods and smiles. ‘Thanks Steve.’
As they open the door to leave, Martin appears.
‘Hi, Mart,’ says Steve shaking his hand. ‘I gave Martin a call,’ he adds to Emma by way of an explanation. ‘Right, I’ll take Rach home and we’ll be back later, OK?’
Martin watches them go and stands in the doorway looking awkward.
‘It’s good to see you, Mart,’ says Edward breaking the silence.
‘I had to come when Steve called me. I wanted to check you were OK and see if there was anything I could do to help.’
Emma is watching him, unsure of what to say.
‘Well, you could take Emma home to get a change of clothes,’ says Diana.
‘Oh. Right. Yes of course,’ says Martin.
‘There’s no need. Really,’ says Emma feeling cornered.
‘Look, I am perfectly capable of looking after your father. I have been doing it for forty years. You go and come back later.’
‘And you’ll call me if anything happens?’
‘Of course but everything will be fine now, won’t it, Edward?’
‘The grim reaper wouldn’t dare call with your mother standing guard,’ says Edward. ‘You go and remember what I said, Em?’
‘OK,’ she says finally. ‘But I’ll be back in a couple of hours.’ She hugs her father tightly and she and Martin say their goodbyes. They walk down the long corridor towards the exit in silence. This doesn’t really seem like the time for small talk, which is a shame as it would have made them both feel less awkward.
‘My car is over there,’ says Martin. They drive in renewed silence until Martin says, ‘I’m really sorry about your dad. I was so shocked to hear he’d had a heart attack. He’s so fit and healthy.’
‘Yes, it’s all a big shock,’ says Emma feeling as if she’s delivering a line in a play and not doing it particularly well. She doesn’t know what topic of conversation to follow with Martin. Anything from ‘How are you?’ to ‘What have you been up to?’ seems inadequate and very likely to lead to more uncomfortable topics. She opts for the uncomfortable silence studying the grey, drizzly view, mulling over what her father has said. She knows she’s been a fool but she can’t quite face the truth today. Once they reach the house, she is ready to leap from the car. She gathers her belongings and ventures a glance at Martin.
‘Thank you for bringing me home. It was above and beyond the call of duty in the circumstances.’
‘I’m very fond of your Dad,’ says Martin by way of an explanation.
Ouch, thinks Emma, but I probably deserved that. She gets out of the car and leans back to say. ‘I’ll see you.’
Martin nods but doesn’t smile, turning back to face the road and driving away. Emma lets herself into a cold house. She dumps her bags and goes into the kitchen; flicking the switch on the kettle, firing up the boiler and turning on the radio, wanting to blot out the silence. She goes to the fridge to retrieve some milk and as she closes the door she picks off a photo of them all together at her parents’ the previous Christmas complete with the obligatory paper hats. Steve is caught in mid-run having set the timer but not made it back to his place in time. Everyone else is looking at him and laughing, except for Edward, who sits at the centre with Alfie on his lap and Lily standing on his other side, her arms wrapped protectively around his neck. Edward is staring out of the picture: smiling, warm and utterly content. Emma hugs the photo to her and cries and cries with noisy, longing sobs.
‘And did I tell you about Doreen?’ says Diana, not waiting for her husband to answer. ‘She’s had a terrible time. Her daughter
-in-law has run off –’ Diana pauses for dramatic effect and then leans in and whispers ‘ – with another woman!’ Edward smirks at his wife, his eyebrows raised. ‘What?’ says Diana. ‘It’s no laughing matter, Edward.’
‘Of course not, my darling,’ says Edward, still grinning. ‘But it does make for rather splendid gossip, doesn’t it?’
Diana looks horrified. ‘I do not gossip!’ she declares, but her face breaks into a smile as she realises she’s being teased. ‘Much.’ Diana never minds when her husband teases her and particularly not today. He is the man who stopped her taking herself too seriously and she loves him for it. She looks at him now, looking so poorly and pale, but Diana Darcy is a woman with determination. She also sees the twinkle in his eye and clings onto this as proof that all will be well. She perches on the side of the bed and reaches out a hand to stroke his forehead. ‘Darling Edward,’ she murmurs.
‘Dearest Dis. Why don’t you lie down with me, darling? You look exhausted,’ he says.
Diana feels a little unsure, as if this would be vaguely inappropriate despite their forty years of marriage, two daughters and advanced years. She remembers a time when her mother had caught them cuddling on the sofa when they were newly engaged. She sees her mother’s angry, unforgiving face in her mind and it gives her courage. She slides herself next to Edward, careful not to disturb the wires and tubes that are helping him to live. Edward puts his arms around her.
‘That’s better,’ he declares.
‘I’m never going to forgive you for this,’ says Diana gently kissing his cheek.
He leans down to kiss her. ‘Of course not, my darling. I know I’m on washing-up duty for the rest of my days.’ he says.
Despite the beeping and whirring of the machines surrounding them, Diana feels a happy calm descend over her. Edward is warm by her side, his breathing steady. She feels sleep wash over her and as she falls, she hears herself say ‘I love you’ and she has never meant anything more in her life.
When she wakes she is confused by the thin, piercing sound, more urgent than an alarm clock. She sits up, suddenly aware of the situation and of people rushing into the room.
‘Mrs Darcy, we must ask you to step aside,’ says a nurse, taking her by the shoulders.
‘No,’ says Diana vehemently. ‘I can’t leave him.’
‘Mum? Mum! What’s going on?’ cries Rachel, bursting into the room closely followed by Emma and Steve. Both girls stop and clutch their hands to the mouths.
‘No!’ cries Emma. ‘No! This can’t happen. He’s OK, he’s going to be OK! Rachel?!’ She implores her sister to make it all right.
‘I’m very sorry, but you must leave now,’ repeats the nurse.
Diana still refuses to come. ‘I must stay with him. He needs me,’ she cries. Rachel helps Steve pull her mother out of the room.
‘Come on, Mum, you have to let them do their job.’
They watch helplessly as various medical staff rush in and out of Edward’s room. Rachel and Emma stand, their arms around each other. Diana looks through the window, her eyes never leaving Edward for a second. No one speaks. All they can hear is the sound of panic with that constant beeping screaming in their ears.
Please let him live, thinks Rachel, I’ll be a better person, I won’t shout at the kids and I’ll sort everything with Steve. I’m so sorry.
At the same time, Emma is seeing herself properly for the first time. She doesn’t like what she sees and wants to make everything better.
Suddenly the panic is over, the beeping has stopped and the family rush towards the room. The doctor meets them at the door, his face impossible to read.
‘I’m sorry,’ he says. ‘We did everything we could.’
Just seven words and three worlds collapse.
Chapter 24
Emma pads down the stairs as quietly as she can so as not to wake her mother. She walks into the kitchen and, unfamiliar with the switches, turns on the hall light as well.
‘Emma? Is that you?’ says a voice from the living room.
‘Mum?’ says Emma peering around the doorway, squinting through the darkness. ‘What are you doing sitting in the dark?’ she adds, flicking on the light. Her mother is sitting in Edward’s favourite chair and Emma notices that she has wrapped his coat around her. ‘Oh Mum.’ She goes to her mother’s side and puts her arms awkwardly around her, leaning over Diana in a strange, standing embrace.
Tears come easily to Emma but Diana does not cry. She does realise that some kind of maternal reaction is required and pats her daughter’s head with a hesitant hand. She has never dealt well with crying. Edward was always the one who comforted the girls when they banged their knees or fell over. When Diana was alone with them, she would try to rouse them out of their wailing with a ‘There, there, don’t cry. Be a brave girl for Mummy now.’ Diana knew this wouldn’t be appropriate now but she still wished Emma would stop. ‘Shall I make us some tea?’ she says at last.
Emma looks up surprised at her mother’s composure, her face red and streaming. ‘OK.’
Diana stands up and carries Edward’s coat to the hall, placing it on a coat-peg and running her hand down the material as if reaching for the man who had once worn it. Emma follows her into the kitchen and they busy themselves with the menial tasks of filling the kettle and retrieving cups and milk. When it is ready, they sit at the kitchen table in silence. Diana looks ahead of her and Emma stares out of the window at the breaking dawn. The sky is glowing with the promise of a sunny autumn day. It would have been a day to lift one’s spirits had circumstances been different. Emma looks at her mother, unsure of what to say. Diana clears her throat and Emma feels nervous at the prospect of a heart to heart.
‘I’ll give Pat a call in the morning. She lost her husband last year and they had a marvellous funeral director. He was very sensitive and very –’ Her voice breaks off. ‘Your father liked him.’
Emma hears her mother’s voice waver with emotion and is surprised by the novelty. She takes Diana’s hand. ‘Oh Mum,’ is all she can think to say.
‘What am I going to do without him?’ cries Diana, uttering a universal sentiment. Emma wonders if she is finally going to cry but Diana looks at her and it is as if something has clicked off in her mind. ‘Anyway, we’d better try and get some sleep. There is a lot to do tomorrow,’ she says finishing her tea.
‘Yes, OK,’ says Emma feeling a strange mix of disappointment and relief.
‘I’ll see you for breakfast,’ says Diana in a matter of fact way. As she walks past her daughter, she reaches out a hand and squeezes her shoulder. Emma smiles at her mother, appreciating the gesture.
‘Night, Mum.’
Diana makes her way up the stairs feeling suddenly exhausted. She walks into her bedroom and shuts the door behind her. Carefully she tiptoes round to Edward’s side of the bed and climbs in. She lies down, inhaling deeply into his pillow, noting his cufflinks and alarm clock on the bedside table. She closes her eyes and weeps.
Rachel opens her eyes to silence. She finds this strange as she knows her family is still in the house. Downstairs she can hear Steve’s deep, soft tones talking to the children and she picks out the odd word: ‘ … kind to Mummy … very sad. We all loved Grandpa very much.’
Rachel feels guilt and gratitude in equal measure and closes her eyes again. Her mind races back to the last time she saw her Dad. This time yesterday, she thinks, this time yesterday, he was still with us, still breathing. How can he be gone? What will we do? Hot tears roll down her cheeks. She clutches her pillow to her body and rolls over onto one side, facing the window. The sky is glowing with sunshine and Rachel thinks how today would have been a day for her father to do some work in the garden and this bring on a fresh round of tears. She hears the door open behind her and assumes it will be Alfie, creeping in to snuggle up with his mum. She doesn’t look round and is surprised to see Will appear by the bed, his face fixed in a frown of concern.
‘I brought you this, Mu
m,’ he says, holding up a slightly nibbled and melted chocolate biscuit. ‘It was the last one.’ Rachel can see that he is shocked by her appearance and does her best not to start crying again.
‘Thank you darling,’ she croaks, taking the biscuit and wiping her eyes. ‘I must look pretty scary today. Like something out of Scooby Doo,’ she adds attempting a smile.
‘Yeah, but it’s OK, Mum,’ says Will. ‘I know you’re very sad about Grandpa. I am too.’
‘Come and give your old mum a hug,’ she says offering her arms to him. Unusually for Will, he accepts and folds himself into her like a baby. They sit for a while, Rachel enjoying the warmth of the boy who was once her first and only baby. She feels his shoulders shaking a little and looks down to see that he’s crying. Rachel cries too, unable to bear the pain her child feels.
‘I know my darling, I know,’ she whispers.
After a while, they sit up and smile at each other through their tears.
‘The thing you need to do,’ says Rachel finally, ‘is to remember all the happy times you had with Grandpa. That’s what he would want. He’s probably looking down at us now saying, “What are you lot moping about?”’ Rachel laughs at the thought and wonders at herself – a middle-class atheist who still employs the heaven imagery as the only way she knows of making it all seem better.
‘The day I went to the football with Grandpa and Dad, and Deon Burton scored a hat trick. It was the best day of my life ever,’ says Will plainly.
Rachel looks at her son and feels untold admiration for him. Her father’s words to her and Emma from yesterday echo in her head.
‘I’m sad about Grandpa,’ says Alfie from the doorway. Rachel looks over at his small, forlorn face. ‘Can I have that biscuit?’ he asks, forgetting his grief in a way that makes Rachel smile.
‘Come in with Will and me, darling.’ Alfie scrambles onto the bed and snuggles under his mother’s other arm, munching happily on the biscuit. Rachel kisses the top of his head and pulls him in close. ‘Oh my lovely boys,’ she sighs.
