by Karen Aldous
‘I think an undertaker would be more use than you Lizzie.’
Be strong, strong, strong! The chant bore into her. This was her mother for God’s sake. Maybe she was still groggy. It was evident she couldn’t give up on her. Ok, she felt rejected but this wasn’t about her, she had to try one more time. But wouldn’t that distress her mother more? Was she doing more harm she wondered?
‘Mum. I genuinely want to help you,’ she pleaded, shunting slowly to the bedside. She pulled the chair round to face her mother, bending forward. ‘I want you to come home.’
Caroline’s hand, still infused with a needle and tube, waved her away. ‘No you don’t. Cal has told you to help me. That’s not the same thing.’
‘He was only the messenger. He told me you were in hospital. He hasn’t told me what to do.’ Lizzie felt embarrassed that some of what her mother said was true.
‘Really, you expect me to believe that? Lizzie, just go. You haven’t bothered about anyone other than yourself for years. I could have died in that time, like your grandad and you’d have been none the wiser. You’re an intelligent girl supposedly! Can’t pick up the phone. You think you care now…want to help me now! Just get out Lizzie. I feel ill looking at you.’
That felt like a hard slap in the face and Lizzie stared at her mother like a stunned rabbit with her mouth wide open. What was worse was that she felt pity for herself too. For all she hadn’t done. ‘Mum, I’m sorry. Please, let me help,’ she said, wiping a trickle of tears. ‘Let me at least make amends for what I’ve put you through.’
‘Go.’ Her mother waved her hand again.
‘Alright I’ll go. But please get a nurse to call me if you change your mind. I’ll leave my mobile number with them.’
‘I wouldn’t bother,’ her mother fired and Lizzie felt the venom in her words.
***
Outside in the fresh air, Lizzie released the harnessed tears. She wrestled with her hair as a breeze swirled and tears rushed out she hurled herself blindly along the footpath until she slumped down on a wooden bench. She threw her elbows onto her knees and cradled her shamed head. Cal was right all along. Her mother was ill and she was too ignorant to listen. If her mother died she would never forgive herself. How selfish she had been to leave her family for so long. She wanted some time alone. She wouldn’t call Cal to collect her, not yet. She thought of ringing Sophie. Her only ally at the moment. She would listen, comfort her and tell her what to do. What could she tell her to do though, she asked herself?
Lizzie pulled a tissue from her bag and blew her nose. Cars queued just beyond the rose bushes. Visitors and patients passed by whilst the smokers hovered in the corner. It didn’t matter though because she was almost oblivious to the bustle. Her mother wasn’t going to accept her help, which meant there was really no point in her being here. She and Thierry would just be in Cal’s way. She should return to her business. And sort out custody of her son. But they were not as urgent as this right now. Sophie. Sophie would know what to do. She pulled her mobile from her bag and hit her friend’s number.
‘I’m sorry Soph, but I had to call you.’
‘Ok let me go outside to where I can speak. I’m afraid it will have to be quick I’m due in a consultation.’
‘No don’t worry. I’ll call you later.’
‘I have a few minutes. Go!’
‘Thanks. I’m just in a quandary. I’m in the UK. My mum’s in hospital. I’ve been in to see her and she had a mastectomy yesterday. She looked awful.’
‘Oh I’m so sorry.’
‘I know, it’s horrible and what’s worse is, she doesn’t want me here and she won’t let me help.’
Sophie listened and then said thoughtfully. ‘Look, don’t be alarmed Lizzie. She is probably just beginning to get to grips with all this herself. It’s likely she will get bitter. I’m sure we all would. Give her some time. Let her know you care but give her a day or two to get over the shock.’
‘I don’t know if I can. I’ll go mad here.’ The phone went quiet and the pause was palpable. ‘Are you still there Soph?’
‘I don’t know what you want me to say? I feel helpless.’
A large lump in her throat made Lizzie swallow hard as self-pity tore its way into her. She fought hard as her lip quivered. She supposed Sophie was used to dealing with these things. Maybe time will help but how much time?
‘Look Lizzie’ her friend continued. ‘There are usually organisations that can help. I’m sorry I’m not much use, not being there but find out if the hospital has some psychological help there, for you and your mum. You may have heard of Macmillan support’
‘I don’t need help.’
‘Oh so…you…Look, Lizzie, please try them. Sorry, I have to go. I’ll call you in about an hour.’
Helplessly, Lizzie stared at her phone. She wiped her stinging eyes as she realised she had to dig down and find some strength. Did she need professional help? Did her mother? She looked about her, wondering how many other people were right now in her shoes. This was tough. She folded her arms and pummelled her lips with her thumb, her mind seeking the best way forward. Caroline really was all she had left apart from Thierry and Sophie. How could she possibly put things right? How was she going to keep going into the hospital and trying to make amends when her mother refused to see her or talk to her each time? Apart from that, how would that possibly help her mother if she was just creating more stress and upsetting her?
After a long sigh she drummed her lips with her fingers. It was evident she needed help. There was so much she didn’t understand. It was time to stop thinking about herself and really try and help her mother and her child’s grandmother. She took a deep breath and, with determination, headed back to the hospital main entrance. ‘Macmillan’ she whispered under her breath.
As she stepped by the small service road crossing, a car horn made her jump. Cal pulled up just the other side of the pedestrian opening, his passenger window opened electronically as he called. ‘Lizzie Lambert, your car awaits.’ He leaned over towards where she stood. ‘Are you ok?’
She looked up surprised. ‘Yes. I’m fine,’ she lied.
‘I’d like to believe you. Jump in.’
She hesitated for a moment thinking of her mission.
‘Have you finished?’ he asked, his brows creased with concern.
Staring at him for a moment she said,
‘Give me five minutes,’ and turned back to the hospital.
She found an enquiry desk. A tall lady, she guessed in her fifties, smiled at her. ‘Can you tell me if you have a Macmillan centre or nurse?’ she asked not sure what or who these people were.
‘Yes, it’s in the Oncology department but it’s closed right now. The office closes at three o’clock every day. If you need information or help before tomorrow, just go to their website.’
‘Thank you.’ Lizzie was relieved the lady at least knew what she was talking about and headed back to look for Cal’s car. He hadn’t moved.
‘Thanks for waiting,’ she said as she opened the door. She climbed up into the car passenger seat. Thierry was slumped exhausted with his head drooping to one side in the child seat behind her.
‘He looks very comfortable. Has he been ok?’
‘Dropped off as soon as we got going from the nursery.’
‘Bless. Yes, it’s amazing how quickly car journeys send them off.’
‘Maybe he got bored with my company, although the nursery told me he had a good afternoon; he made a friend, Chloe.’
‘Oh good. It’s obviously tired him out. He won’t mind going back then.’
‘Yes it’s certainly worn him out. Does he always sleep during the day?’
‘There’s no pattern really now. Not with me anyway. Marie-Claire always got him into a routine. I just go with the flow so it’s very hit and miss. One day he sleeps in the afternoon, then the next few days he’s as lively as a puppy – he needs no sleep until his bedtime.’
‘Well, he’s allowed – he
’s still a young child.’ Cal looked in his rear view mirror in readiness to drive off. ‘How is Carol… your Mother?’ His expression tightened as he pulled away and then looked back at her concerned.
‘Oh, she’s…’ Lizzie felt a rush of emotion crash within her, ‘She’s…I think the surgery has gone ok but,’ she choked up unable to speak further. Cal pulled the car over again. He shot out of his seat and round to Lizzie, opening her door. This time she couldn’t hold back her emotions. She fell into his arms like she was a small child.
‘Come on let it out,’ he insisted, gently rubbing her neck and shoulders.
After a few minutes, Lizzie wiped her face and sat back up on the car seat. ‘She was horrible to me. I must have really hurt her. She doesn’t want to see me.’ She watched as Cal eased back slightly, catching at her hair as the breeze blew it into her face. She swallowed. ‘I…tried, to…I said I wanted to help, to stay with her and get her better but she didn’t want my help. She doesn’t want my help. Maybe you can talk to her? She would probably listen to you.’
‘Ok don’t beat yourself up. She, or rather, both of you, need some time. You didn’t exactly end on a high last time you saw each other.’
‘I’ll try these Macmillan people Sophie suggested but otherwise I might as well go back to France. There’s nothing I can do. Well, nothing I think will make any difference. If I try…’
Cal lifted her chin and pulled her face around so her eyes met his. Her skin tingled. ‘I didn’t have you down as somebody who would give up this easily,’ he said.
‘I didn’t imagine her to be so hurtful. When I returned home, she was much nicer than I ever thought possible. When I was young, she was always so highly strung, so stressed all the time, governing everything I did and judging me. That’s how I remembered her. I was pretty scared of her actually. I was stunned when she opened the door and looked so relaxed and pleased to see me. But, as you say, we didn’t exactly leave on the best terms last time.’
‘I would think she was relieved to see you. You hadn’t seen her for a long time had you?’
Lizzie tensed up. Why was she telling him all this. He had a knack for making her talk. Feel comfortable. Too comfortable. She thought for a moment. ‘I suppose I ran away as a child but returned as an adult. I think I was just expecting her to greet me like that child.’
‘Maybe I rushed you both imagining all this would be easier.’ His eyes dug deep into hers as he confessed. ‘I really don’t know and I don’t have the answers. I think it’s for you and your mum to work those out.’
‘I know, I know, I am trying,’ she told him, throwing him a frown.
‘Do you really want to help her?’
‘Yes, of course.’
‘I’m pleased. I’m sure it is difficult if you haven’t got along in the past. I’m sure she will come round, particularly when you tell her about Thierry. It would be a shame to go back to France without making some progress.’
A deep breath heaved up her chest. ‘I don’t know. How do you help someone who doesn’t want to be helped?’
‘She does need help, she’s just too proud at the moment to admit it.’
‘You think?’ Lizzie sat back and cleaned her face in the mirror.
‘I’ll get back in.’ Cal said, closing the door and climbing back into his side of the car.
‘Tell me Lizzie, how did you cope when you found out you were pregnant?’
‘What’s that got to do with it?’ she said shifting her body round towards him.
‘Well, did you find all your answers straightaway?’
‘No but that’s just me. Other people seem to know what they want.’
‘No. Life is not that simple. It probably took time to make some brave and, I imagine, difficult decisions.’
‘Yes, but it was more a case of “I’ve got to do this and make this work”.’
‘There was still a process. You decided you weren’t going to tell Anton and bring up your child no matter what the struggle.’
‘Absolutely. I wouldn’t have wanted him for a husband. He wasn’t what I call neither father nor husband material.’
‘So you did know what you wanted?’
‘No. I suppose I knew what I didn’t want.’
‘So maybe it was a bit more instinctive. Did you ever consider what he would want or how he felt?’ Cal asked.
‘No.’ Lizzie wriggled on her seat.
‘Why?’
‘Because…Anton was never…he wouldn’t have wanted a child and he would have been a pain in the arse,’ she shrieked.
‘So you thought it through?’
Lizzie, now feeling hot and flustered, looked at Thierry and back at Cal. ‘Look, what’s this got to do with my mother and me?’
‘You tell me Lizzie?’
She lifted her head up and to the side, her brows frowning quizzically as she spoke, ‘Nothing. I made the right decision about my relationship with Anton. I wouldn’t want a control freak for a husband any more than Thierry deserved that for a father. We hardly knew each other.’
‘And now?’
Lizzie didn’t know what to say and began to feel uncomfortable.
Cal looked out of his window as he spoke. ‘From where I’m sitting, I think both Anton and your mother love you.’
‘What?!’ She watched his face and he turned back and sank his eyes into hers.
‘You have too many preconceptions. You assume or think people don’t like you; because A equals B, that is it. Whatever fits your argument! Have you ever asked Anton how he felt, or feels? Have you ever asked your mother how she feels?
‘No. And anyway, they would tell me if they loved me.’
‘Would they? Do you tell your mother?’
‘No.’
‘So how do you know what they feel? Have you ever stopped to wonder why your mother was stressed or needing control? Have you ever wondered why Anton is behaving the way he is. Neither of them seem to be able to control you and yet they both want to. It would suggest they both love you.’
‘Whoa. No, neither of them ever wants to listen to me.’
‘How do you know?’
‘My mother never, ever listened. She always spoke at me not to me. It was always her way or no way.’
‘So you never challenged her?’
‘God. No.’
‘So what would happen if you did challenge her?’
Lizzie looked into her lap. ‘I don’t know, I never did. I ran away. If I had gone home from university after I broke up with Hugo, she would have taken great delight in permanently gloating and telling me, “I told you so”. I couldn’t have faced that. And then, leaving my studies, I just knew I had completely let her down. I must have been a massive disappointment to her.’
‘Wouldn’t you like to find out?’
She looked up at him in horror. ‘No. She would be vile. Like she was this afternoon.’
‘What do you mean, vile?’
‘Well, horrible. She would make me feel unbearably small and inadequate and just vile.’
‘So how or what would that mean?’ he probed.
Lizzie glazed over for a second and then peered behind him. She didn’t know the answers to all these questions. She never asked people such deep questions. Why was he asking her? Her eyes rested for a while on the young cob-nut trees in her view, which she noticed were only half formed, they had years to reach their potential. Was he right? Did she ever question people to try to understand them? She didn’t understand her mother; had never questioned her mother’s motives and just accepted things to avoid arguments. Maybe that is why she hated any conflict. Neither had she questioned her own feelings of being hurt. She wasn’t hurt physically – what was it that hurt – her feelings, her pride, her heart, her psyche – what?
‘I think I would rather avoid the conflict than hear her tell me negative things.’
‘So, if you ask your mother how she feels right now, what do you think she would say?’
‘Sh
e probably thinks she’s going to die.’
‘Yes, possibly, worse-case scenario, she would think that. But how do you think she feels?
‘Scared.’
‘Why is she scared?’
Lizzie looked back at him, their eyes engaging. The interrogation took her back to her youth, she felt like the stupid pupil that couldn’t find the answer, the daughter who failed again to get things right. But she felt a real sincerity from Cal. He really seemed to care and she felt a real connection. A trust she had never experienced before in a man – bar her father and grandfather. He seemed to get to the core just like Sophie.
‘Because she has just been told she has cancer,’ she said finally. ‘Naturally she thinks the worst and is scared.’
‘And…?’
‘And. Out of control.’
‘And?’
‘Wanting to know?’ he was making her think again.
‘And? If you were in her situation, how would you feel? Would you feel alone, hurt, angry? Tell me?’
Yes, probably angry and bitter and out of control. I would feel bitter and short-changed. If I was my mum I would feel angry because I was too young to have a disease which is taking away my world and possibly my life. Certainly she wouldn’t like her body being disfigured.’
‘I know I would be angry,’ said Cal.
‘Yes. I should have realised. I’m such a child still at times.’
Thierry’s head rolled and his eyes opened briefly, stirring from his sleep. Cal looked over his shoulder and then reached for the ignition. ‘Ok. We’d better get back. This little fella will be wanting some food.’
Lizzie gave a light grin at Thierry and reached over to squeeze her son’s knee. Cal would certainly make a thoughtful father, grandfather rather. It was sweet of him to think of Thierry.
As they drove back to her mother’s, Lizzie leaned heavily on the arm rest of the passenger door. Cal had certainly given her a bone to gnaw at. She had never questioned her mother to discover her feelings nor why she was like she was. Neither had she questioned Cal’s motivation in all this. Was it just to keep her mother happy or was he doing this to protect himself and his investment? Just a bit more to chew on and, maybe…maybe, when the time was right, she would ask him.
