by Amanda Egan
*****
It was good news. It was far from over but it was nothing serious.
Annie had a hydrocele - a harmless gathering of fluid in the sac surrounding his testicle. He was booked in for drainage and removal and, although he’d be in a little discomfort for a few days afterwards, everything would be fine.
He was fortunate enough to get an appointment for mid-December which meant he would be out in time for Christmas and able to recuperate at home.
‘And if anyone makes any jokes about Santa’s sack being full, I’ll have their guts for garters, Perce!’ Annie was on top form again, holding my hand and swinging my arm energetically as we almost skipped back to the tube station.
‘I’m not dying, Perce! Isn’t that the best Christmas present we could ask for?’
I nodded and placed a kiss on his cheek, ‘Yes Annie, it’s just the best.’
But, if I was totally honest with myself, I could also think of one more thing I would have liked - but that was never going to happen.
*****
Annie insisted on taking me to the Harvey Nichol’s champagne bar to celebrate and thank me for my friendship.
‘But Annie, I look like crap. They won’t let me in. Let’s just go to the pub.’
He stopped mid walk and stomped his foot on the pavement, pulling me to him roughly by the elbows. ‘Stop that right now this minute. No more! You’ve got your good jeans on, your tits look great in that top and you’ve got your kick-ass boots on - if you just attempt a little smile and hold your head high, things will be just grand.’
And so I found myself sipping champers surrounded by pretty young things and London’s up and coming. A rather attractive young man smiled at me and I smiled back.
‘Work it baby! Work it!’ Annie leaned over and whispered in my ear and I thumped him on the arm, rather too hard. ‘Oy, Missus! Watch it! Don’t abuse the infirm. And drink up, you’re too slow.’
We sat drinking and chatting and just generally relaxing after the trauma of the past few weeks. It was great to unwind and be away from the club - just to put all the misery out of our minds.
‘You called Lover Boy yet?’ Annie asked, chewing on some ridiculously over-priced peanuts.
‘Nope! And I’m not going to. My mind’s made up. This fat lady’s singing. It’s over.’
‘Well, I think you’re a fool but I know you won’t change your mind based on my opinion. If you want to die a miserable old spinster, surrounded by ancient queens, you’re going the right way about it.’
His speech was halted abruptly when I needed to open my bag to read a text. I left him to order a second bottle of champagne and read a message from Diana.
‘Tom’s called!!!! He wants to see me!!! What should I wear? HELP! xx’
My reply was simple and from the heart.
‘Just be yourself! xx’
*****
I was pleased for Diana. Of course I was. But I was only human and couldn’t help feeling the slightest pang of jealousy. Tom had clearly found his senses and their relationship was now going from strength to strength.
‘Vot lucky bitch!’ Lubov said as she painted her nails at my desk one afternoon. ‘But is goot somesing vurk out for vun of us - love is alive and zis we must remember.’
Lubov and I had taken to hanging out together more and more. It was weird to have a friend more or less the same size as me - it was a new feeling. We started sharing clothes and I began to see that what looked good on her looked good on me. My style was becoming simple but trendy and I could feel myself blossoming despite my broken heart.
I’d tried to talk to my father about Lubov. To see what he really felt. But he’d blushed and stuttered, avoided my questions and then told me to stop being so nosey. His visits to the club ceased completely and even his calls to me became scarce.
I started to worry about him. He didn’t really have many friends and The Glove had become a place he’d loved to hang out at and shoot the breeze. I didn’t want him sitting alone in his flat with no one to talk to, but when I tried to reach out to him he pushed me away.
Lubov would often ask me how he was and all I could really report back was ‘Not sure.’ It wasn’t much use to her but it was all I could offer. I decided I’d give him his time to get over his embarrassment and then, hopefully, we’d be able to move on.
As we hurtled towards the festive season, all our spare time was spent on making sure the acts delivered the best shows ever and praying for that elusive miracle. We’d been unable to find any loopholes in the tenancy agreement and Annie had decided to start the arduous task of looking for new premises in the New Year. Relocation wasn’t ideal but we seemed to be left with no choice.
On the morning of Annie’s surgery Lubov and I were chatting over a coffee and waiting for the call from Tittie to say that the procedure was over. Carols were playing quietly in the background and I felt the urge to chuck the radio in the bin. I didn’t want the enforced jollity of everybody’s bloody goodwill and I fully intended to spend most of Christmas under my duvet with a giant Figgy pudding and a family-sized tub of custard.
Luke’s calls had stopped. Well, I could hardly blame him. How long did I expect him to keep on trying? But now they’d stopped I wanted them to start again and allow myself to dream of the Christmas that might have been.
But Slade were screaming ‘Merry Christmas!’ and all I wanted to do was yell back, ‘Shut the fuck up!’
Lubov was humming along in her sultry voice and then she stopped and said, ‘Lubov vill not stay ven ze club moves. I go back home. For me ze magic is in zis building - so many happy memories. Ze bubble vill burst if ze club moves. Lubov knows zeese sings.’
A tiny involuntary shudder went through me as I realised she could be right.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Annie’s op was successful and we all breathed a sigh of relief. The queens took turns with hospital visits taking a range of ridiculous presents - a lilac lace bed-jacket, a willy-warmer and a copy of their completed manuscript, ‘Fifty Shades of Shocking Pink.’
Most of my spare time was spent working on my own writing. ‘Inside the Gossamer Glove’ was coming along nicely and it was liberating to write what I felt comfortable with - to leave the sickly sweet heroines and sleazeball heroes behind me.
I found my talent lay in writing humour - I could even make myself giggle on occasions and it felt good. There was never a shortage of one-liners or anecdotes at the club for me to play with or to turn into a scene and the words were flying out of me at a rate of knots.
It was the one thing I had Luke to thank for - had I not met him, I’d never have considered changing my writing style and I had a good feeling about this book. I was sure that people would like it.
I was just tackling a tricky lovers’ tiff between two of my main characters - with many barbed put downs, flying feathers and poisonous venom, when my mobile began to ring.
It was Chelsea and Westminster hospital. But not with an update on Annie, as I’d originally thought.
My dad had suffered a heart attack and was in a critical condition.
*****
Lubov and I spent the next few days by my dad’s bed. We talked to him and stroked his hands, willing him not to give up the fight. Telling him he still had so much to live for, if he could just drag himself back from the coma.
I beat myself up with guilt. If only I’d insisted on trying to talk to him, in spending time with him, maybe none of this would have happened. Lubov brushed my worries aside and told me not to be silly. No one was to blame for this.
I couldn’t imagine a life without Dad and I refused to accept it happening now. It was not his time and it was frustrating not being able to communicate this to him.
Our constant vigil was exhausting but Lubov and I took strength from one another and became closer than ever before. We needed each other and, in our darkest moments, clung to one another and sobbed.
She really did love my dad and, as I go
t to know her more, I could see how right they could have been for one another - they were both kind, loving people with a quick wit and a desire for a simple life. She shared none of my mother’s qualities - no vanity, snobbery or distorted ideas above her station. She’d just wanted to share a life of love and friendship with my dad and had honestly believed she’d found her soul mate.
Our daily routine had become the norm. Tittie had been great about letting us have time off and had reorganised the rota in a flash. We promised we’d also take it turns to nip along to Annie’s ward on the floor below and see him as often as we could.
Annie was adamant though and would usually brush us away with, ‘I don’t need you to be here. I’m just fine! I only want to see you back here when you’ve got good news to report - now get back to gorgeous Gordon and tell him Annie says to pull his bloomin’ self together. Can’t have him stealing my thunder!’
The hours passed in a blur of foul coffee and cardboard sandwiches. Nurses came and went, checking Dad’s stats and smiling sympathetically, often with kind words such as ‘No change is good’ or ‘Let’s hope he’s sorted before Christmas, eh?’
We’d just finished yet another weeping session, when Lubov wiped her nose on her sleeve and said, ‘I vould just be happy for him to get vell. I know ve can never be togezzer but I vant him to live. To find love again maybe. To be happy.’
That was true, unselfish love and I felt a lump form in my throat once again.
‘I voz so silly, Percy. I vould dream of marrying zis man. He voz best sing ever. But he no love me.’ She shook her head sadly and looked down at her hands on her lap.
‘I bloody do love you!’ My dad’s eyes were open and he was focused on both of us. ‘God, will you look at the pair of you! Did someone around here die?’
We both rushed to his side and started talking at once.
‘Oh my God, he vakes!’
‘Daddy! You did it!’
‘Vot you mean, you love me?’
‘Oh will you shut up, the pair of you! Bloody women talking all at once! If you don’t put a couple of socks in it I’ll slip away again. I’m warning you,’ he said with a grin.
It was the best smile I’d ever seen in my life. My daddy’s smile.
*****
We left the doctors and nurses to complete their checks and Lubov and I jumped up and down excitedly in the corridor. We clung to one another, this time in joy, and we laughed in relief as we whooped.
‘He say he love me, Percy! He did, didn’t he? I no have funny turn and imagine stupid sing?’
I grabbed her hands and we jumped up and down again.
‘No, Lubov. He definitely said he loved you. And I do too.’ Suddenly realising I actually did. ‘Thanks so much for everything. You’re a true friend.’
‘I love you too Percy. My big girl buddy! And maybe … just maybe … one day I be your step-mummy!’
This set us off on a whole new round of whooping and hollering and we didn’t care one iota about the strange looks we received from passers-by.
*****
My dad was going to be OK. He’d need to take it easy, watch his diet, pack away his pipe and keep an eye on his alcohol intake - but he was going to be just fine.
He and Lubov finally had the chat they needed and he admitted to being an old fool. The years didn’t matter to him anymore - she made him happy, she really cared for him and they belonged together. She was overjoyed. The light had been switched back on and she beamed and glowed. Each mealtime she’d appear with home cooked food declaring the NHS offerings as ‘Shit on plate!’
‘My Gordon vill never get strong on zis crap. I feed him up and take him home. Lubov is goot nurse.’
Daddy, for all that he’d been through, looked the picture of health. He’d shed years and blossomed under the umbrella of Lubov’s love.
It was the afternoon before Christmas Eve and it was looking very much like both Annie and my dad would be discharged the next day. We were planning to spend a quiet Christmas at my flat - just me, Daddy and Lubov. I’d told them that I was happy to spend it alone so that they could be together but they insisted on ‘family’ time and I was secretly relieved to know I would have company.
There was much excitement on my dad’s ward - many patients were preparing to go home and others were resigning themselves to an enforced festive stay and deciding to make the most of it. The buzz kicked up a notch when suddenly, into the ward, came Tittie, Lady, Vi and Ma - in full drag and bearing gifts.
‘Merry Christmas one and all,’ Tittie boomed as he tottered on his six inch purple heels, a headdress of mistletoe dangling precariously over his auburn wig.
‘Gordon! Lovie! You gave us all a nasty shock, you bad boy. Slappies on bumbies when you get out of here, OK?’
My dad laughed and shook Tittie’s hand. Tittie leaned forward and whispered, ‘Seriously Gord, I’m so glad you’re OK.’ And he gave him a tiny kiss on the cheek.
Blushing and grinning from ear to ear, my dad accepted grapes, Lucozade and huge boxes of chocolates.
Lubov immediately confiscated the latter and said they would be handed out on rations. ‘Ve need to keep eye on cholesterol and too many sveeties is bad for you.’
Much good natured ribbing followed, with the queens winding my dad up, saying he was henpecked and under the thumb.
Lubov blushed and good-naturedly batted their banter away.
‘Vot? It is crime to love a man? Zen hang me! I am guilty.’ She perched on the side of the bed and planted a blood red lipstick kiss on my dad’s forehead and he looked up at her and beamed.
It was a lovely, if bizarre scene. My father propped on pillows in the new paisley silk pyjamas Lubov had bought him. Lubov next to him in a scarlet mini dress showing all her curves at their best with a fur-trimmed Santa hat on her head, Tittie pretending to peel grapes and feeding them to my dad, Lady and Vi hand in hand singing ‘Jingle Bells’ and Ma with an arm slung around my shoulder encouraging me to bop along with him.
Nothing could ruin our mood. Not even the sight of my mother storming into the ward and demanding what the hell was going on.
*****
My first thought was ‘Shit! In all the doom and gloom I really had forgotten to call her and tell her Daddy was ill’. My second was ‘What the hell! She’d treated him badly and I thought she was meant to be on some fancy cruise anyway!’
‘Gordon! What on earth do you think you’re playing at! Put that tart down at once and act your age, you silly little man.’
She then turned to me. ‘And as for you, young lady, I’m ashamed of you! How could you not call your own mother at a time like this?’
The queens recoiled in horror at my mother’s unwelcome invasion and spiteful tongue and Tittie stepped forward to speak.
My mother raised a hand to silence him and added, ‘I have no reason to converse with you. I don’t know what you think you’re doing hanging around with my husband but if it’s money you’re all after, you can forget it.’
Tittie was speechless and stepped back with, ‘How rude!’ He looked to the others for back up.
My father pulled himself up to as much height as his pillows would allow and Lubov made him comfortable. ‘Sophia, you have no right to come barging in here being vile to my friends. Our marriage is over - the divorce is going ahead and, once it’s final, I have every intention of marrying this lovely young lady.’ He took Lubov’s hand and smiled at her. ‘As for money, I’ve told you, you’ll be looked after. But I do think you need to know that I intend to be putting a large chunk of my savings into helping The Glove.’ He turned to Tittie. ‘It won’t solve all your problems by any means, but I hope it will help.’
Tittie practically jumped on the bed and flung his arms around my dad’s neck, kissing him over and over again like an excited puppy.
‘Oh, for goodness sake!’ My mother stood with her hands on her hips and threw her head back in disbelief. ‘I’ve heard of mid-life crisis but this is bloody
ridiculous! Gordon, will you get a grip and come home where you belong. Your stupid game is over now.’
Daddy turned and looked at her, hair ruffled and his face now positively covered in lipstick. ‘Just leave, Sophia. You’re spoiling the party atmosphere.’
My mother opened her mouth to speak but was stopped in her tracks by a voice from behind her. ‘You heard him, lady! Just go.’ Annie was standing there in his regulation hospital gown with a fiery glint in his eye.
‘And who exactly do you think you are to come in here and tell me what to do? What role do you play in this sordid little story?’
