So Talk to Me

by Marina Johnson

  I was suddenly frightened he was going to be taken away from me, like Mum.

  I go into the kitchen and get myself a glass of water to take to bed, I have work tomorrow but I don’t mind, I enjoy it. Not the job; that’s beyond boring but I like Louise and Uncle Ralph is funny, even though he doesn’t mean to be. Louise took me downstairs to the print room last week and we watched Bert and Lev as they printed Saturday’s Herald. It was a noisy clatter, clatter, but sort of mesmerising. The paper whizzes off the press so fast and then Lev grabs big thick wedges of it and feeds it into another machine and they come out folded and ready to sell. Bert didn’t seem to do much; he stood watching the press, frowning and blowing his cheeks out and just twiddled a few knobs now and again. We didn’t stay for too long because Louise says Lev gets a bit twitchy around women and he did start muttering something about Dagmar no like so we went back upstairs. It was more or less finish time then and Dad was waiting outside in the car so I had to go, but she said she’d tell me what she meant about Lev being twitchy tomorrow.

  I go upstairs and see the door to Dad’s bedroom ajar and I’m about to pop my head around the door and wave goodnight at him when something about the conversation stops me.

  I’m eavesdropping.

  ‘I know,’ Dad says. ‘But I don’t want to upset her.’

  Dad is quiet for a moment as whoever’s on the other end of the phone speaks.

  ‘She doesn’t need to know, she’s been through enough.’

  I hold my breath.

  ‘I don’t want to tell her. I don’t even know why we’re having this conversation. I don’t want to talk about how he nearly destroyed us.’

  Then silence again.

  ‘Yeah, Ralph, she might be old enough but some things are better kept quiet. What’s the point now? I can’t see how telling her is going to help. She doesn’t need to know.’

  I step through the doorway and Dad looks up at me in alarm.

  ‘What don’t I need to know, Dad?’

  Chapter 18

  Josie

  D ad stares at me open mouthed, I can hear Uncle Ralph’s squawking coming out of the phone.

  ‘Ring you later.’ Dad stabs his finger on the end call button and slowly puts the phone down on the bedside table.

  ‘Well?’ I demand, hands on hips.

  ‘It’s not what you think.’

  ‘You don’t know what I think.’

  ‘It’s nothing worth mentioning.’

  ‘Who’s HE?’

  The fight seems to go out of Dad and he seems to deflate in front of me and his shoulders slump. He suddenly looks old and tired as he rubs his eyes and then drags his hand through his hair.

  ‘Just give me a minute.’ He takes a deep, shuddering breath and closes his eyes. I wait. I’ll stand here until he tells me but I wish he’d hurry up. He looks so dejected that I’m starting to feel bad about the way I’m speaking to him.

  ‘Why are you sweating, Dad?’ He’s got beads of sweat on his forehead and it’s not that warm in here, in fact it’s not warm at all.

  He looks up at me and I notice how grey he looks. He gives a shaky smile.

  ‘Wasn’t feeling too great so I came up for a lie down and then your Uncle Ralph rang.’

  ‘In what way don’t you feel great?’

  Dad doesn’t answer and shakes his head and wraps his arms tightly around his chest. I watch in mounting horror as he slumps forward over his knees.

  ‘Dad! What’s wrong? Tell me!’

  ‘You’d better call your uncle Ralph,’ he says in a whisper. ‘I think I’m having a heart attack.’

  ✽✽✽

  ‘I should have called an ambulance!’ I shout from the back seat of Uncle Ralph’s car.

  ‘It’ll be fine, pet. If you’d called an ambulance you’d still be waiting now.’ Auntie Bridget puts her arm around me and gives me a comforting squeeze but I can’t take my eyes off Dad. He’s sitting in the front passenger seat next to Uncle Ralph and is sweating even more now and he looks so frightened. I’m so scared and I keep repeating please don’t die over and over in my head. It’s all my fault, I shouldn’t have been so horrible to him.

  ‘Slow down, Ralph,’ barks Auntie Bridget. ‘Because if Robbie hasn’t had a heart attack, you’re going to give him one with your mad driving.’

  Uncle Ralph ignores her; he’s hunched over the steering wheel with his nose practically pressed against the windscreen. I didn’t think it was possible for anyone to drive so fast. When I rang him, it seemed like I’d hardly put the phone down before he burst through the front door and raced up the stairs. He left the key in the front door and would have driven off and left the door wide open if Auntie Bridget hadn’t stopped him. They only live ten minutes away but I’m sure they did the journey in like, sixty seconds.

  The gigantic outline of Frogham Infirmary looms out of the darkness and Uncle Ralph slams his foot on the brake as we screech around the corner into the hospital car park. Auntie Bridget and I slide across the seats and I squash her into the door, stretching our seat belts to the limit.

  ‘Where’s A&E?’ Uncle Ralph’s voice is all wobbly.

  ‘Straight on down here then it’s on the left, shouts Auntie Bridget. ‘And slow DOWN.’

  Ignoring her, Uncle Ralph speeds up even more and we hurtle along the road then career sharply to the left on what feels like two wheels. We weave our way through the car park and then stop so suddenly that I nearly head butt the back of Uncle Ralph’s seat even though I have a seat belt on.

  ‘You can’t stop here!’ shouts Auntie Bridget. We’re right outside the doors of A&E, with two wheels on the pavement.

  Uncle Ralph ignores her and already has his door open and is jumping out and racing over to the A&E entrance. Auntie Bridget and I clamber out and by the time I get round to Dad’s door Uncle Ralph has reappeared with a wheelchair.

  He yanks Dad’s door open and pushes the wheelchair closer to the car.

  ‘I’m not getting in that, I can walk,’ Dad says in a weak voice.

  ‘You’re not walking.’ Uncle Ralph leans into the car and attempts to pull Dad out. ‘Mind out the way, Josie.’

  ‘What do you think you’re doing?’

  ‘Helping you.’

  ‘Get off, I don’t need any help.’

  Uncle Ralph ignores him and tries to hook his elbows underneath Dad’s armpits.

  ‘Get off!’

  ‘Just relax and I’ll lift you out. I’ve watched Holby , I know how to do it.’

  ‘I don’t need lifting, I can walk. You wouldn’t be able to lift me anyway, you skinny little sod!’

  ‘Stop making a fuss!’

  Dad pushes Uncle Ralph’s arms away. ‘Just get out of the fucking way and let me get out.’

  Afraid there’s going to be a fight I put my arm on Uncle Ralph’s shoulder and pull him away from the car.

  ‘Just let Dad get out on his own.’

  Uncle Ralph stands still but doesn’t take his eyes off Dad and I realise he’s just as scared as me.

  Dad pulls himself gingerly out of the car and straightens up and draws a shaky breath.

  ‘Get in then.’

  ‘I’m walking.’

  ‘Please Dad,’ I say. ‘Just get in. For me.’

  Dad knows when he’s beaten and he slowly lowers himself into the wheelchair with a sigh. As soon as his feet are on the foot plate Uncle Ralph whisks him away and Auntie Bridget and I have to trot to keep up with them. We reach the entrance and Auntie Bridget and I run in front of them to open the doors. Uncle Ralph manoeuvres the wheelchair through the doors and pushes the wheelchair straight up to the reception desk and parks Dad in front of it.

  ‘My brother’s having a heart attack,’ he shouts at the receptionist. ‘Call the crash team!’

  The receptionist looks up at him slowly and doesn’t even blink.

  ‘Name?’ she says, with a bored expression.

  Uncle Ralph’s mouth drops open and he looks
at her in shock.

  ‘Robert Sparkes,’ I say.

  ‘Occupation?’

  ‘What does it matter what his bleeding job is?’ Uncle Ralph leans over the counter and shouts at her. ‘He’s having a heart attack, you silly cow.’

  Out of the corner of my eye I see a uniformed security guard straighten up from his slouched position of leaning against the wall. He rubs his hand over a stubbly chin and looks over at us with interest.

  The receptionist looks at Ralph and without speaking points her pen at a laminated piece of paper tacked to the wall behind her.

  No aggressive or threatening behaviour towards our staff will be tolerated.

  Auntie Bridget kicks Uncle Ralph on the ankle.

  Ralph clears his throat. ‘Um. Yeah, Sorry about that.’ Auntie Bridget prompts him with a glare. ‘Please accept my sincere apologies.’

  The receptionist looks slightly disappointed and out of the corner of my eye I see the security guard resume his slouched position against the wall.

  ‘Occupation?’ The pen is poised over the paper again.

  ‘Accountant,’ I say. She scribbles it down. ‘He has chest pains. They’re bad.’

  ‘Wait here.’ She slowly gets up from her seat and disappears through a doorway at the back of the office.

  I bend down and look at Dad. ‘You okay Dad?’ Please don’t die , please don’t die .

  Dad nods but doesn’t speak.

  A grey-haired nurse appears from the doorway at the back of the office and marches purposefully towards us. She lifts up the counter flap and comes around and stands by Dad.

  ‘Now, Mr Sparkes, we’re going to take you through and see what’s going on.’ She pats him reassuringly on the shoulder. ‘You’ll be fine, don’t worry.’ She turns her attention to us. ‘Now, who’s next of kin?’

  ‘Me.’ Uncle Ralph and I both shout in unison.

  She casts her eyes over us before she speaks. ‘Okay. It’s only supposed to be one of you but if you can keep out of the way you can all come with him.’ She smiles and the three of us nod and follow her as she wheels Dad through two massive, automatic doors.

  We enter a huge white room with rows of curtained cubicles, the nurse pushes Dad into the only empty one and helps him out of the wheelchair and onto the bed. With a tight smile to us she pulls a flowery curtain along in front of us.

  ‘Just wait there please.’ She says as she shuts herself behind the curtain and closes it with a firm tug.

  The three of us stand awkwardly outside and look at each other, there are no seats and none of us know what to do. People dressed in green scrubs scuttle purposefully in and out of the rows of curtained cubicles that stretch down the room.

  ‘Scrubs, that’s what they’re called,’ says Uncle Ralph. ‘Those green things, scrubs. They wear them for doing operations.’

  ‘Do you think they’ll have to operate on Dad?’ I ask with horror.

  ‘No, no of course not, pet.’ Auntie Bridget glares at Uncle Ralph, ‘Course they won’t.’

  The flowery curtain is opened with a swish and the grey-haired nurse pulls it back against the walls with a flourish.

  ‘You can come in now.’ She slots the clipboard onto the end of Dad’s bed. ‘Doctor will be along shortly.’ She picks up a kidney shaped bowl from the cabinet and clips clops off in her efficient way.

  Dad is sitting up in bed and is wearing just his trousers and socks and what looks like sticking plasters stuck all over his chest, with long wires attached to them that stretch to a complicated machine next to the bed. He looks a bit better now, not so grey and he’s not sweating so much either. I feel relieved; he’s in the right place, they’ll look after him and make him better.

  ‘ECG.’ Dad points at the wires. ‘Doing a heart trace. She took a load of blood too. Three bottles of it.’ He shows us the plaster in the crook of his elbow.

  The three of us crowd around the bed and intently watch the machine. None of us have a clue what the beeps mean.

  We wait and watch the staff scurrying around. Uncle Ralph produces a packet of wine gums from his pocket and offers them around.

  ‘Don’t give Robbie one, you idiot,’ says Auntie Bridget. ‘What if he does need surgery? He can’t eat anything.’ She claps her hand over her mouth as soon as she’s said it when she sees the horrified look on my face.

  Oh God. Please let Dad be alright.

  Uncle Ralph pops a wine gum in his mouth and wanders off in search of some chairs but finds only two. Auntie Bridget and I sit on them while Uncle Ralph perches on the end of the bed.

  ‘How much longer?’ Uncle Ralph asks. He seems a lot more relaxed now.

  ‘For God’s sake Ralph, can’t you see they’re busy? Now just shut your gob and be quiet,’ Auntie Bridget hisses.

  Uncle Ralph shrugs and shoves another wine gum in his mouth.

  An hour and a half later one of the green scrubbed people appears. He has a stethoscope dangling around his neck so I’m guessing that he’s the doctor. Uncle Ralph hurriedly jumps off the bed.

  ‘Mr Sparkes? I’m Doctor Haskins. I understand you’ve been having chest pains?’ He doesn’t look at Dad but presses lots of buttons on the ECG machine and studies the changing numbers with a frown.

  ‘Yes,’ says Dad. ‘They started about seven o’clock and got worse and worse.’

  OMG. What if dad had died before I got home? I can’t bear thinking about it.

  ‘Hmm.’ Doctor Haskins taps Dad’s chest. ‘And how is the pain now? Is it painful here or here?’ He taps Dad’s chest and before Dad can answer he puts the ends of the stethoscope in his ears, and lays the flat end of it on Dad’s chest. He moves it around then gets Dad to lean forward and does the same on his back, frowning with concentration the whole time.

  ‘Had any pains like this before?’

  ‘A couple of times, but never this bad.’

  He never told me! I feel a flash of anger; yet another secret he’s kept from me.

  ‘Is it my heart, doctor?’ Dad asks in a shaky voice.

  Doctor Haskins doesn’t answer but takes the earpieces out of his ears and puts them back around his neck. ‘A nurse will be along shortly and the blood tests should be back in about an hour. I’ll come back then to discuss the results.’

  Before any of us can say anything, the doctor disappears into the next cubicle and a different nurse materialises with a large beaker in her hand which she hands to Dad.

  ‘Drink it straight down, please.’

  ‘All of it? There’s a lot there.’

  ‘Please.’

  Dad pulls a face; grey and milky looking, there’s at least a pint of whatever it is.

  We all watch as Dad gulps it down and the nurse whips the empty beaker off him and marches off.

  ‘Wonder what that’s for,’ says Uncle Ralph.

  ‘Could be they’re going to do a scan or something,’ Auntie Bridget answers.

  Dad looks worried. ‘I wish they’d just tell me what’s going on.’

  ‘You’re in the best place, Dad. Nothing bad’s going to happen to you here.’ I say it with a confidence I don’t feel.

  We wait. Dad Dozes. Uncle Ralph keeps looking at his watch.

  ‘What’s the time?’ Auntie Bridget asks for what seems like the twentieth time.

  ‘Half past two.’

  ‘Good job we’d haven’t got work tomorrow.’ Auntie Bridget yawns loudly.

  ‘We have, haven’t we Josie?’

  I nod and Auntie Bridget looks at Uncle Ralph in annoyance.

  ‘What! You don’t have to go in, you own the place, remember?’

  Uncle Ralph grunts.

  In spite of my anxiety over Dad I can feel my eyes starting to close. Could I lie down next to Dad? Would anyone notice? Uncle Ralph could have my chair then. Too late; Uncle Ralph settles down onto the end of the bed and makes himself comfortable.

  Dad drifts off to sleep and conversation comes to an end as we all nod off.

  ‘Mr Spa
rkes?’ Doctor Haskins is back.

  Dad wakes with a snort and we all sit up, instantly awake. Uncle Ralph quietly slides off the bed.

  Dad looks at Doctor Haskins expectantly.

  ‘We have your results, Mr Sparkes.’ He has a sheet of paper in his hand.

  Chapter 19

  Josie

  I t’s still dark as we leave the hospital. And cold. I sit huddled in the back seat of the car and shove my hands underneath my armpits to keep them warm.

  Uncle Ralph is not happy; it didn’t help that when we came out of A&E there was a parking ticket on his car.

  ‘For fuck’s sake,’ he said loudly, ripping the ticket off the windscreen. ‘A parking ticket? A PARKING TICKET? What sort of traffic warden works through the night?’ He screwed it up in a ball and threw it on the floor and kicked it and then marched around to the driver’s side of the car and got in.

  Auntie Bridget tried to shush him, but only half-heartedly. I think she’d had enough by then. I ran over and picked the ticket up, smoothed it out and put it in my pocket. Dad will probably pay it.

  We race along the empty roads in silence, the only sound the roar of the heater on full blast. Eventually Uncle Ralph breaks the silence.

  ‘I’ll text Louise and tell her we won’t be in today.’

  ‘Okay,’ I say.

  ‘I was very impressed with the staff at the hospital, very nice, I thought.’ Auntie Bridget looks around from the front passenger seat and smiles. This is met with a snort from Uncle Ralph.

  ‘Yeah, apart from that cow on reception. Got a good mind to put a complaint in about her.’

  Auntie Bridget looks back at me and smiles and winks. ‘Apart from her, I meant.’

  ‘And the traffic warden,’ Uncle Ralph barks. He’s not happy.

  ‘Look,’ says Dad from the seat next to me. ‘I’m really sorry you’ve all had a wasted night but there’s nothing I can do about it.’