“I have some very happy memories of her though,” he continued. “She used to sing to me when I was little, lullabies and nursery rhymes to put me to sleep.”
“What was your favourite?”
“That would have to be Humpty Dumpty. She used to sit me on her lap and when she got to the bit where Humpty falls she’d tip me upside down. I used to love it.” He recalled how close they had been. How long and hard he had cried on his first day at school because he missed her so much. The hours they spent on the beach on weekends and school holidays making sand castles, swimming, and laughing together. Oh how she loved to laugh. “When I was older she would suddenly break into song. It was usually the latest hit, and she had a sensational voice. She could have been a professional singer if she’d wanted to.”
“I’m sorry you lost her so young, it must have been hard on you.”
She didn’t know the half of it. His father had gone to pieces with the death of his wife. She had been his world, so he was not able to give his son the support he so badly needed at the time. They had lived the next few years in the same house almost like strangers, barely speaking, each wrapped up in his private misery. Kent would cry himself to sleep at night, only stopping long enough to catch the muffled sobs of the devastated man in the room across the hallway. “Yes, it was hard,” he said quietly.
“And you lost your father a few years ago?”
“Yes, we had grown a lot closer in the last few years of his life,” Kent admitted. “We shared a lot of the same interests I guess, the sea being one of them. But Dad had worked himself to death, and he aged terribly after mum died. It was the sorrow I guess that finally wore his body out. He died in his sleep a day after his sixtieth birthday.” His eyes wandered over the road in front of him. “I’m sorry,” he said suddenly, “I’m talking too much.”
“No you’re not, I asked you to tell me.”
“We’re meant to be having a fun evening. But it’s starting to resemble a wake.”
“You loved your parents. They are the people who helped to make you the wonderful man that you are. It’s only natural you would want to remember them, and at times talk about them.”
He loosened his grip on the steering wheel. “I think I’m going to like having you around.”
“I sincerely hope so. But if I ever become a pest just tell me and I’ll slip quietly away.”
He grinned at the comment. “I don’t think a jilted woman ever just slips quietly away. In my experience she never goes down without a fight.”
“Cross me and I’ll plug ya,” Christy said, in her best gangster voice.
“Not if I get you first,” he quipped, getting in on the fun.
Christy formed her fingers into a gun and pointed them at Kent. “Go ahead, Punk…make my day.”
He slowly shook his head at her. “Has anyone told you you’re seriously warped?”
She giggled. “All ta time, but I made sure it wuz ta last time dey ever told me.”
“You’re a laugh a minute aren’t you?”
“What’s life without a bit of frivolity?”
“My thoughts exactly, now would you kindly take that gun you’re poking in my ribs away?”
She giggled louder this time. “Wad’s da madda, Punk, losin’ ya nerve?”
“Tickling a man in the ribs when he’s driving at sixty miles an hour is dicing with death.”
“Aw, ya are losin’ ya nerve, Punk.”
“You’re impossible,” he said, glancing in her direction.
“Just keep ya peepers on ta road, Punk, and I might just let ya live.”
“How long are you going to keep this up?”
“See, you’re sick of me already. I knew it wouldn’t last.” She pulled her fingers away and pretended to slip them into a holster. “I bet Bonnie never had this problem with Clyde.”
“I bet Bonnie didn’t stick a gun in Clyde’s ribs and call him punk every five seconds.”
“Aw, yer jus sore cos I got ta drop on ya.”
Kent twisted his head sideways to look at her. “Just how many gangster movies have you watched over your lifetime?” He suddenly poked his fingers into her ribs. “Ah, now who’s got the drop on who?”
“Aw, you rat…you dirty rat you.”
“Hey,” Kent said, “that was actually a pretty good James Cagney. I’m impressed.”
“Jimmy was my favourite, but Mum hated me watching all those old movies. She said a young girl shouldn’t be watching so much violence. But I loved them.”
“I can see there’s never going to be a dull moment with you around.”
“I’s aims to please.”
“So were gangster movies the only ones you watched when you were growing up?”
“Nope, I reckon I watched me a few mighty fine westerns in me time, Pardner.”
“Go on,” he urged, turning briefly to look at her again, “do John Wayne for me.”
Christy pulled her best John Wayne face. “Well go fer yer gun, Pilgrim.”
He laughed. “I don’t know about the facial expression you had going on there, but you had the voice nearly perfect. It was almost as good as your Jimmy Cagney.”
“Your turn,” she said breezily.
He shook his head vigorously. “I’ve never been any good at impersonations. I always make a mess of them and then there’s this big silence from everyone afterwards.’
“I’m sure you can manage one.”
“Well…I did do a pretty mean Mickey Mouse when I was a kid.”
“Mickey Mouse…you’re kidding me?” She pulled a face. “You mean you actually pretended to be the rodent with the big ears and squeaky voice?”
“Come on, Christy,” he said a little nervously, “you’re starting to give me a complex here.”
“So was this whole Mickey Mouse infatuation before or after your voice broke?”
“I never said I was infatuated with him,” Kent said defensively. “And of course it was before my voice broke.”
“Go on then.”
“Go on…what?”
“Do your Mickey Mouse thing.”
Kent was starting to feel uncomfortable. “I don’t do it now,” he insisted. “It was just a thing I did when I was a kid.”
“Aw, come on, do it for me.”
“No, I’m not going to make a fool of myself in front of you.”
“Please, I did my impersonations for you. Come on, I promise I won’t laugh.”
“I won’t be any good at it anymore it was a long time ago.”
“Do it for me.” Her face was all appeal, and so he caved in.
“Alright, but I warn you it probably won’t be any good.” He settled himself into his seat and tried to get in character. “Come on, Pluto Boy,” he said, trying to make his voice sound squeaky but failing miserably, “let’s go home.”
“You’re right,” she said, stony-faced, “that wasn’t very good. You sounded like Mickey on steroids.”
“Aw, I knew I shouldn’t have let you talk me into it,” he answered, a touch embarrassed by the whole thing.“There was no way I could pull it off at my age.”
“You’d better leave the impersonations to me in the future,” she said matter-of-factly. “You obviously have no talent for it whatsoever.”
He sighed. “You really know how to put the knife in don’t you?”
“Think of it as constructive criticism.”
“Constructive criticism…don’t you mean destructive criticism?”
“Have it your way. But with your lack of talent I think it might be safest to put an end to your acting ambitions here and now.” She huffed on her fingernails and rubbed them on her blouse. “Leave it to the professionals from now on.”
“Oh, you wait,” he said with determination, “I’ll get you back. Even if it takes me until the end of the year I’ll get you back.”
CHAPTER TEN
Christy opened her eyes and yawned. The sunlight was already streaming through the chink in her bedroom cur
tains. That meant she had slept in much later than usual. Stretching her body out full length she yawned again then lay staring up at the ceiling thinking of the wonderful evening she had spent with Kent. The production had been superb, and Kent had been very attentive to her right throughout. And then their playful banter on the drive down and on the way home had been delightful. But what had really been the highlight had been the kiss he had given her when he dropped her off at her place afterwards. If that hadn’t been making his intentions known then she didn’t know what was. It wasn’t just a goodnight kiss, he had put everything into it, and it had been enough to set her alight. She was a woman in love, and it had put that much needed spark into her that had been missing for so long.
A text message came in. It was from Kent, telling her how much he had enjoyed her company last night and that he was counting off the minutes until they could be together again.
The feeling was mutual; she only wished that she were with him right now in his little shack out in the countryside.
The whole thing had been so fairytale that she had almost forgotten about the dark cloud that hung heavily over the two of them. It threatened to destroy everything that had built up between them these past few weeks. She knew she should have told him by now, but if she had then last night probably wouldn’t have happened, and she wouldn’t have wanted to miss that for the world. If she was going to die she wanted to go out on a high note.
Swinging herself out of bed she walked over to the windows and drew the curtains. It was a gloriously sunny spring day and Christy was determined not to let depression get the better of her. She would tell him, and soon, but she needed just a little more time.
“So did the two of you have a good time last night?” Jack asked, when she came down for breakfast.
“The best time I’ve had in years,” she said dreamily.
“I take it you didn’t tell him then?”
She frowned. “No, I didn’t tell him. But I will.”
“That’s what you said last time.”
“Please don’t go on about it, Daddy.”
“Somebody has to. That young man is laboring under a false illusion without even knowing it. If I don’t stir you up into telling him you won’t get around to it.”
“Can’t you just be pleased I’ve found a bit of happiness and let it go at that?”
His expression softened. “Of course I’m happy for you. And he’s a likeable young feller. But he has no idea what’s waiting in store for him, and that’s just inexcusable on your part.”
She stared into her coffee cup. “I don’t need a lecture. I know it’s wrong. But I’m in love with him.”
“All the more reason to tell him, and if he feels the same way about you then he’s likely to stick with you. But he needs to be filled in on what’s going on so he can get his head around it.”
“I don’t know how to broach it with him,” she said morosely. “I don’t know if I can just come out with it.”
Jack pulled a chair out from under the table and sat down. “You need to phone him and tell him you need to speak to him about a very serious matter, a matter that you’re only prepared to discuss face to face.” He sprinkled some salt on his poached eggs. “That’ll pre-warn him that something not so good is about to come to light. Sort of takes the edge off the shock of it all.”
“I’ve already done that, but when I went to see him about it I couldn’t bring myself to tell him.”
“I know it’s hard for you, but you really must tell him. If it was him who had cancer and you the healthy one wouldn’t you want to know?”
She nodded.
“And would you break up with him over it?”
“No.”
“And I don’t think he will either. He seemed to me to be in well over his head already. I don’t think he’s the sort to turn back.” Jack reached across the table and took her delicate hand in his big rough one. “Get this out of the way and then you can move on with the relationship. If you don’t, it’ll only eat away at you until you’ve either told him or he finds out.” He shook his head gravely. “And if he finds out on his own there’s no telling how he’ll react.”
She dragged her handbag across the table and digging around in it pulled out her phone. She sat looking fearfully at it for a moment before tapping out the number. “Kent, I’ve got to see you urgently,” she said shakily. “There’s something I haven’t told you that you have a right to know. I’m afraid it’s going to come as rather a shock so I want to see you in person when I tell you.”
There was silence at the end of the line for a moment. “You’re not married are you?”
“No. Look, I don’t want to talk about it on the phone so is it alright if I come around and see you now?”
“Sure.”
“I’m proud of you, Sweetheart,” Jack said, as she slipped the phone back into her handbag. “I know that wasn’t easy for you.”
She looked into his clear blue eyes. “I’m scared, Daddy. I’m scared I’m going to lose him.”
“I’m sure you won’t. But you’re doing the right thing and that’s what’s most important.”
“Right for whom?” she asked sadly.
“For both of you.”
She thought about that as she slowly drove around to Kent’s. Was it right for both of them? She couldn’t deny it was right for him, but was it right for her? If Kent didn’t react the way her father suggested he would then she wasn’t going to come out of this feeling that it was all for the best.
The driveway to Kent’s shack came into sight and her stomach somersaulted. As she turned onto it and fearfully bumped her car through the ruts and potholes she fought the impulse to turn the car around and flee. But something drove her on, and when she pulled up outside the shack and opened the car door a sense of total despair enveloped her. She was moments away from telling him what she had so carefully kept hidden.
Walking shakily to the door she placed her hand on the doorknob and hesitated. She didn’t have to go in. She could run back to the car and drive away. He would believe her if she told him later that she had felt sick and needed to go home. But she felt her hand turning the knob, and the door opening, and there he was, standing by the kitchen sink with a grim look on his face.
“I’m not sure I’m going to want to hear this,” he said heavily, his breathing coming faster than usual.
Christy walked over to the table and sat down. “I don’t really want to be telling you,” she replied sadly. “But you have a right to know.”
Moving towards her he pulled out a chair and seated himself across from her. “You’d best get on with it then.”
She took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. “That morning you pulled me out of the water…I wasn’t swimming.”
He looked at her blankly. “What were you doing?”
She averted her eyes. She didn’t want to see his reaction when she told him. “I was trying to take my life, and I would have succeeded if you hadn’t turned up when you did.”
The room went silent, except for a cow that bellowed somewhere out on the farm, and the clock that ticked loudly on the wall.
Christy raised her eyes. He was staring intently at the tabletop between his two hands. “I’m so sorry, Kent. I didn’t mean to put anybody through that. I just wasn’t thinking clearly.”
He leaned back in his chair. “Why?’ he asked simply.
“I know this is going to come as a huge shock to you but there’s no way I can break it gently, so I’ll just come out with it.” The words had tumbled out quickly, and so she paused to take in a breath. “I have cancer, Chronic Myelogenous Leukemia.”
As his eyes widened the blood drained rapidly from his face, and just when Christy thought he was frozen to the spot he suddenly placed his elbows on the table and buried his face in his hands.
“I am on drugs for it but my prognosis isn’t very good. That morning I was out for a jog and feeling very down. I went down to the water’s edge and it looke
d so calm and inviting, and I realized I didn’t want to live to that point where I’d be in constant pain, so I decided to end it.” She reached across the table to touch his arm but he flinched. “It was a foolish spur of the moment thing,’ she confessed, “I’m glad that you saved me.”
He rescued his face from his hands. “I thought it was strange that you were swimming in shorts and a t-shirt.” He thumped his fist down on the table making her jump. “You should have told me all this before I fell in love with you.”
Her heart skipped a beat. He hadn’t told her he was in love with her. She had hoped he would be in time but hadn’t dared expect it. “I’m sorry,” she said again.
“Sorry isn’t much use to me,” he snapped angrily, the muscles in his jaw visibly tightening.
“I didn’t want you to stop seeing me,” she confessed. “I fell for you that day I returned your shirt to you. It wasn’t long before I was in love with you.” A solitary tear slipped from her cheek and landed on the table. “I tried to tell you the first time I came to visit you here, but you were so excited about your plans for the future I just couldn’t bring myself to do it.”
He fixed her with a sour look. “I feel
as if I’ve been set up. I pull this woman from the sea that I think is drowning, she gets me to fall in love with her only to tell me later that she was trying to drown herself. And if that’s not enough she’s dying from some type of cancer I’ve never even heard of before.”
Christy’s head drooped in shame. Her father had been right she should have told Kent straight away. Now he was angry with her and judging by the dark look on his face at this moment he was very angry. “Do you want me to leave?” she asked fearfully.
“What would that achieve?” He lightly ran his hand over the stubble on his cheek. “You’d better fill me in on this cancer. I need to know what it is I’m going up against.”
She looked at him in amazement. “You’re not going to break it off with me?”
“How can I?” he said tersely, “when I’m so in love with you.”
All The King's Horses: A Tale Of Eternal Love Page 7
