Little Wishes

by Michelle Adams

  “No, no!” Tom begged. “I don’t know what happened. Only that my father saw them leave on a boat together, and that when your father came back your mother wasn’t with him. My father couldn’t have made it up, because the village didn’t even know that she was missing then.”

  A lump swelled in her throat, the painful burn of impending tears. She blinked them away, not giving in this time. Only this morning she had woken in his arms and it had all seemed so perfect, so easy. How by the end of the day had so many things changed that his touch no longer felt certain? It was as if a freak wave had capsized her boat, and everything she once held dear was floating on the surface of a choppy sea. “I know exactly what happened, Tom. She was confused, just like on the night she slipped in the water and you saved her.” Her footsteps were quick as she started back toward the house, Tom chasing to catch up behind her.

  “Please don’t go. Not like this. I don’t want you to be alone.”

  “I’m not alone,” she said, pulling away from his touch. “My father and James are inside.”

  “What? James is in there?”

  Part of her wanted to apologize, but a larger part of her was still angered over his insinuations regarding her father. But to look at him, the hopeful eyes and anxious hands, softened her.

  “I thought after last night . . . I’m sorry. I have no right to demand anything.” His eyes filled with tears and he went to turn away.

  The thought of him leaving that night, while not the worst thing to happen that day, was as unimaginable to Elizabeth as it was possible. “You’ve got it wrong,” she said, and he stopped. “He was just being kind. He stayed even after I told him about us.”

  “You told him?”

  “Everything,” she said. “But it makes no difference now, does it? How can we ever be together after this? You believe your father over mine, and even if you didn’t, you’re planning to leave. Even though I need you here. I was a fool.” James’s words rang out like a warning bell in her head. “I was a stupid fool to even think we could just wish for something and it would come true.”

  “No, no,” he said, trying to reassure her. “You were brave. It’s not foolish to love somebody, Elizabeth. When you told him, you did the right thing. And we can still be together.”

  “How? You’re leaving anyway, aren’t you?”

  Only one option existed close to Porthsennen, offered to him by Mr. Pommeroy not an hour before. At the time he couldn’t imagine taking it, but if it kept him close to Elizabeth maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.

  “There is one way I could stay.” Her eyes widened, and that hope gave him the courage to make the decision. “Some bloke from St. Agnes took sick yesterday. He was due to go out to Wolf Rock. Mr. Pommeroy has already squared it.” She waited, her silence the permission he needed to continue. “He offered me a job out on Wolf Rock for the next couple of months. A sort of trial, he said.”

  A light rain brushed against her face as her gaze was drawn by the lights flickering across the choppy sea, a hint at human existence in the farthest reaches of her vision.

  “On the lighthouse?” The idea of the danger pitted against the proximity. “At least you would be close,” she said, closing the gap between them. “And it would give things time to settle down, perhaps?”

  “Plus, Wolf Rock pays better. When I come back, we would have some money. Maybe then we could leave.”

  “Maybe,” she said, but it still felt as if she was clutching at hopes that offered little promise. “But it’s so dangerous.”

  “I’ll be careful. And I only have to do this once, maybe twice if we need the money.” He felt her hands slacken in his, their fingers curling together. This was who they were. Not those people moments ago who couldn’t agree. “The relief ship comes into port tomorrow.”

  “Tomorrow?”

  When she broke down, he held her. He breathed in her hair, the soft touch of her skin against his. He leaned in, let his lips linger against her cold cheek. She closed her eyes, told herself to remember it; it was going to be the last one for some time.

  “This doesn’t change anything,” he said as he pulled away. “I’ll be home soon. Nothing is different, not inside.”

  “Everything is different,” she said, her voice cracking. “Except for how I feel about you.”

  “And it’s not for long. When I get back, I promise that I’ll spend the rest of my life making your dreams come true. Every wish you’ve ever made. When I told you it was forever, I meant it.”

  “So did I,” she whispered, her voice breaking. His pace was slow and heavy when he walked away, Elizabeth wishing all the time that he would turn around for one last look. Her wish came true as he reached the corner, turning for one final memory. “I’ll come and see you off,” she shouted. “I’ll watch from the headland.” He nodded and waved, and then disappeared around the corner, leaving her standing on the empty pavement in the soft light of the streetlamp. But she realized then that forever didn’t mean a thing if the thing that you loved was gone.

  Now

  Three days had passed since the doctor had told them that there was nothing more they could do. For the first twenty-four hours Tom barely opened his eyes, while Alice and Elizabeth sat vigil. Texts to Kate went unanswered. How Elizabeth wished her daughter were here now. An emptiness hollowed her out like hunger, a longing for her child’s touch. Knowing it was the braver choice, she also tried to call, but unsure she was going to be able to get the words out, she hung up before even dialing the number.

  The nurses came and went, but there was nothing any of them could do that really helped. When it came to leaving, neither Alice nor Elizabeth wanted to go, and they had been grateful for Brian’s visits, delivering packed food and drinks, along with a respite from their self-imposed isolation. But on the third night the nurses insisted. “You’re no good to anybody like this,” one of them said. “You’re running yourself into the ground, and he needs you to be strong.” So they kissed his head and prayed as they left. Not for a miracle, but instead just for a word, a smile, something they could use to bolster their reserves.

  It didn’t come.

  Alice broke down after they left, and despite her own feelings, Elizabeth found herself in the role of comforter. The thin frame of Tom’s daughter shook in her arms, and so, imagining it was Kate, she held her close, as tightly as she could. Alice always seemed so well put together, so in control of her emotions, like Kate always was, that it was a shock to find themselves like that, pressed up against each other in the cold of night. Even on the occasions Brian had visited, to an outsider it could have been a total stranger sitting there in the room with them. No expressed love or need on her part. But leaving her father brought all those hidden emotions fizzing to the surface, like a pot left gently simmering, and eventually she boiled over while standing at the entrance to the hospital with the smell of the city all around them.

  “I just didn’t think it would be so soon,” Alice said, pulling away from Elizabeth after some time. Elizabeth pulled a fresh tissue from her pocket and handed it to her. Alice took it, almost involuntarily. “It’s like he’s already gone.”

  “He’s just in shock, love. And remember, they didn’t give us a time frame,” Elizabeth tried. “We have no idea how long he has left yet.” In truth, it was all she’d been thinking about since Dr. Jones had told them there was nothing they could do, but even when she asked, nobody seemed to want to give a definitive answer.

  “Whatever time we have left, it won’t be enough,” Alice said, wiping her nose and then her eyes.

  Elizabeth couldn’t disagree there. She had tried not to cry but hadn’t quite succeeded so took a moment to find another tissue.

  “It’s like they have written him off,” Alice said, breaking down again. “And I gave them permission.”

  “You had no other choice, love.” Elizabeth hoped to God that Alice hadn’t been mulling the decision not to resuscitate over in her mind, as if she were responsible for
the doctors’ decision. “That kind of thing is down to them, not us. They just try to make us feel involved.”

  “But he thinks I’ve given up on him. He couldn’t even look at me.”

  “He couldn’t look at either of us,” Elizabeth said, wanting to ease her burden, make her see she was as out of control as the rest of them. But while her words were truthful, somehow they felt futile. No matter what she or Alice felt, Tom had given up; that was the only thing that held any importance as far as she could see.

  * * *

  They walked home through the quiet streets, silence between them, stars faint in the night sky above. Patches of cloud and the haze of pollution shrouded them; it was nothing like Porthsennen. Elizabeth looked down at her watch and checked the day. It was Tuesday. They should have been having the bronchoscopy today. Should have enjoyed a quick forty-eight hours in Porthsennen by now. Alice was right about the time; there wasn’t enough of it.

  “He used to love the stars,” Elizabeth said as they arrived at the gate, still gazing toward the sky.

  “He’d often try to point out the constellations to me,” Alice said, leaning against the wall. “I never could understand what we were looking at.”

  Elizabeth pointed at the sky. “That’s Orion. The three bright ones that look like the edge of an arrow, his belt. Can you see?”

  Alice nodded. “Maybe. I think so.”

  “And that one all the way over there to the north is the Plough. To look at the stars was one of the first dates your father ever took me on.”

  “He told me about that,” Alice said, still gazing skyward. “Said it was a magical night. That it was the first place he told you to make a wish.”

  Elizabeth recalled that night, and all the wonderful things it had brought her. “I wished for a lot then. I thought . . .” she began, but then trailed off without finishing her thought.

  “Thought what?” Alice asked.

  “No,” Elizabeth replied. “It doesn’t feel right to speak that way, not standing here outside your family home.”

  “Come on,” Alice urged. “My father loves you, and I’ve known that for years. What were you going to say?”

  Elizabeth gazed upward, tried to imagine the view of the sky from her home. “That on that night I wished for a lifetime together. So many dreams that never came true.”

  “And some that did. You still have time for some more.” Alice’s lips were cold as she kissed Elizabeth’s cheek. “I’d best get going.”

  “Will you come in first?” Elizabeth asked. “I’ll put the kettle on. You could even stay over if you like.” Elizabeth didn’t really want to be alone. “Your room is just as you left it.”

  Alice shook her head as she fastened an extra button. “Thanks, but I’d rather walk home. I think I need some time to get my head around this.” Elizabeth nodded, unlatched the gate. “Plus, I’ll probably go to Brian’s.”

  “Oh, really? That’s great.” Elizabeth glanced to Alice’s hands and saw that she was still wearing her wedding ring.

  After waving Alice off, she headed down the path. The radiators were rattling in the living room as she stepped inside, removed her jacket. She made a drink without turning on the lights, wanting the dark, not wanting to look at the paraphernalia of a life gone by. The photographs that weren’t hers. The family that she wasn’t a part of. Maybe there really was still time for a few more dreams, some memories of their own. And as she sat in his chair, curling her knees up toward her chest, her tears soaked freely into the material worn by years of gentle use.

  * * *

  “I need a shower,” Tom said as soon as she walked through the door the following morning.

  Elizabeth set her shopping bag down, her heart racing to hear him speak. Her bag was filled with a couple of books, snacks enough for a week, and a flask of tea because she didn’t want to bother the nurses and hated those plastic cups in the cafeteria. Questions raced through her mind now that he was speaking, like how he was feeling and whether the doctor had been to see him again. If they had told him how long. But now wasn’t the time, so she reminded herself that she was grateful that one prayer, at least, had been answered.

  “Shall I call a nurse? I think I saw Panny on duty when I came in. Isn’t she the one you like?”

  “No,” he said. Panny was in her forties, wore her curly hair loose in a style that had no doubt been super fashionable in the 1980s. Eyes ringed with kohl. Some people could never move on, spent their whole lives living in the past. He stumbled for a moment. “She’s nice enough, but I don’t want her help.”

  Elizabeth recognized something in that look. “You want me to help you?” she asked quietly.

  “Do you mind?”

  She took his hand in one of hers, patted it with the other. “I’ll go and see if the bathroom is free.”

  * * *

  Panny helped her to set up a plastic chair with holes in the seat in the corner of the bathroom, and Elizabeth found a clean washcloth and some soap from the bag she had packed days before. But while Tom had managed to find his tongue, it had been three days since he’d stepped from his bed, and when he did, he was as wobbly as a new baby deer.

  “You need to stay off the sauce,” Panny said, propping him up as he wobbled along with his walker.

  “Nothing wrong with my walking, Panda. It’s all that black stuff around your eyes. You just can’t see me properly.”

  Elizabeth wiped her eyes dry and followed them into the bathroom.

  Moments later they found themselves alone. “You’ll have to do it for me,” he said, motioning to his pajama bottoms while he clung to his walker. They both knew that something fundamental would change in their relationship after this, when she would go from being his longtime love to his caregiver. It was a privilege to do things for him that he could no longer do himself, but it was also a reminder of just how many things had changed. Still, his smile was a rare reflection from the past, genuine and cheeky. “You didn’t come over all shy, did you?”

  “Get away with you,” she said, reaching down to unfasten his trousers. With one pop of the button she whipped them open and they dropped to his ankles. “Nothing I haven’t seen before, is it?”

  He looked up; he appeared so vulnerable, slightly hunched with his trousers round his ankles. She had to admit they made for a comical sight, her all fingers and thumbs and him with his trousers down. If anybody could see us now, she thought to herself as Tom took a seat. As she slipped the pajama top down his back and helped him slide his arms through the sleeves, she felt his loose skin moving under her fingertips, the edges of his bones. The body she once knew was changed even from a few nights ago when they’d last slept together. Everything was wrong with the image before her, from his hair being too long and sweaty around the hairline, to his back, which was red in the areas receiving too much pressure in the bed. But as she lathered up the washcloth and began to smooth it over his skin, the sound of his enjoyment brought a sad smile to her face. Setting the washcloth down, she used her hands to glide over his back, kissing the top of his head when he reached up and patted her hand.

  “What made you want a shower, anyway?” she asked as she turned on the water and began to rinse the soap from his back.

  “I’ve got to make a special effort today, haven’t I?” It helped that she couldn’t see his face, unsure how she would cope if she had to deal with his upset. The date had loomed on the horizon, even though none of them had spoken of it. “Alice is leaving this afternoon, if I haven’t completely lost my mind. Am I right?” As he waited for an answer, she saw his face in profile. Somewhere under that loose skin, he was still the man she had fallen in love with all those years ago.

  “You haven’t completely lost it, no. Do you think she still intends to go?”

  “Knowing her, I’ll bet she does.”

  Elizabeth was surprised by the speed of her adaptation to her new role, could even say she was enjoying the process, her ability to care for a person she loved
. Isn’t that what love is, she pondered, being there for a person when they need you? How quickly things became normal. Even things like this.

  “Maybe she’ll change her mind,” Elizabeth said. “She’s wearing her wedding ring, after all.”

  “Is she?” He thought for a moment, then shook his head. “I doubt it. She starts her new job tomorrow, and she’s a stubborn little madam.”

  As stubborn as Kate, she thought. As stubborn as you, Thomas Hale. “Wonder where she gets that from?”

  “Very funny,” he said, a wry smile passing his lips.

  “Just don’t be so sure of yourself. People change.”

  “Did you change?” he asked. With the spray of the water misting across her face, she knelt at his feet.

  “No, darling. I didn’t change. Didn’t we promise each other once that nothing would ever change for us?”

  “I believe we did,” he said with a smile.

  “And I’m here, aren’t I? Whatever happens, we’ll face it together.”

  “Promise?” With the water on his face she couldn’t work out whether he was crying or not. She thought he probably was.

  “Never managed to forget about you yet, did I?”

  He shook his head.

  “Well then,” she said matter-of-factly, putting an end to his concerns. “Anyway, even if she still goes to Hastings today, she’ll be back before you know it at the weekend.”

  “Friday’s a long time away,” he said quietly. “You never know what could happen between now and then.”

  Elizabeth felt the emotion stir in her throat again. “Oh, Tom,” she said, reaching for him, taking his shrunken body in her arms.

  “You’re getting wet,” he exclaimed as she held him close. It was a moment for them, just theirs, when she was everything he needed. It was something to be cherished, she knew.

  “I don’t care about that,” she said eventually. “I don’t care about anything else anymore.”

  And that was how they stayed for a while, her on her knees in the wet, him on a plastic chair with a commode underneath the seat. They could hear the commotion of the ward around them, but to Elizabeth it was as if they were the only two in the world. She had felt like that before, once.