Barefoot

by Daisy Burton

Her bum had now gone completely numb from sitting in that godforsaken chair for two hours.

  Come on Jess…

  Finally, a nurse in a pale blue dress was beckoning to her from the end of the corridor and she grabbed her handbag and numb bum or not, she scooted up there.

  Jess was hooked up to a drip, looking dozy and pale. The second she saw her best mate appear, Jess’s eyes filled with tears.

  “It’s gone….” she whispered, dry-mouthed and chin wobbling. “My baby… it’s gone.”

  Sal crumpled. All the determination she’d had to be strong for her friend was draining away, and tears began to dribble down her own face. She’d never seen Jess looking so vulnerable and fragile. Even with all the drama they’d been through years before, this seemed to be the thing that was going to break her friend. It was terrible to see her like that.

  “Just rest. Concentrate on getting well again, you’ve been through it today. Adam’s on his way – he should be here any minute.”

  “Thanks so much, Sal,” she snuffled, wiping her eyes on the sheet. “Does he know everything? Did you tell him?”

  Sal reached over and grabbed a tissue from the cabinet for Jess and thrust it at her.

  “He knows you’re here but he doesn’t know exactly what’s happened. The line wasn’t great and I didn’t want him to be too upset driving. Obviously, he knows something’s wrong because you’re in here. Don’t worry, though, I can tell him the rest when he gets here, unless you’d rather do it?”

  “Yes, please,” Jess mumbled. “I don’t know if I can form the words yet. I’m so thirsty, am I allowed some water?”

  Sal could see Jess’s lips were sticking to her teeth as she spoke and her mouth was so dry that she was having trouble forming words properly.

  “Yes, I’m sure you can, they’ve put some here.”

  Sal grabbed a glass and poured the unappealing, lukewarm liquid from the pale-blue-plastic-topped glass jug on the side. She hated feeling so useless, and if holding her friend’s head as she drank was the only thing she could do to help, that’s what she’d do.

  “Ah, that’s better,” Jess sighed, licking her cracked lips. “You will come and see me every day, won’t you?” She looked so fearful, that Sal couldn’t say no. She would have to miss the Irish tour now for sure.

  “Of course I will, you daft apath,” she said, touching Jess’s arm gently. “I can keep you entertained while Adam’s at work. Anything you want me to bring in for you?”

  Jess paused for a minute or two, swallowing hard before saying anything. “Sorry… nausea,” she swallowed again, retched and waited a few moments before continuing, in between swallows. “Adam will bring me all my stuff from home, so no, you being here is enough. I don’t know what I’d have done if you’d already left for Ireland. That’s why I rang the landline. If you’d left, I wouldn’t have told you about this ‘til you got back. Thanks for all this Sal. I love you.”

  Sal glowed. It was pretty rare for Jess to show affection to her or anyone, and although she knew her friend loved her, it was nice to hear her say it.

  “Love you too, Jess,” was all she could think of to say.

  Adam was breathless and wide-eyed as he flew in the door of Jess’s room, suited, windblown and red-faced. “Jess my darling, are you okay?”

  Sal watched them kiss hello, then she ushered Adam outside into the hallway, to fill him in. His already-worried eyes were brimming with tears as she let him know the detail of what had happened. She knew that he had wanted this baby as much Jess had, but unlike some men she knew, he didn’t hide his emotions and he wept as she spoke. As they walked back in to the bedside, Sal watched as Adam gently held his wife, and she suddenly felt like a gooseberry. Time for her to go home and leave them to comfort each other and work out how to get through their grief together.

  “I’ll be off, then, but I’ll be back in the morning.” It wasn’t easy trying to sound normal in such an abnormal situation, but Sal did her best.

  They thanked her and Adam hugged her tightly. Sal leaned over Jess, kissed her pale cheek and headed home, exhausted.

  *****

  It was nice to have someone to go home to, and she was glad Mel was there. Lawrence was as pleased as ever to see his mum, and rubbed against her leg warmly in the hope she’d give him some extra treats. She’d had him for a few years before she’d met Marsh, and he always knew when something was wrong in her life. She wondered if he’d been confused at the sight of the dreaded suitcase in the hallway all day. That case always meant she was going to be gone for a while, and he protested whenever he saw it. Once, he’d sprayed it, such was his contempt. He seemed in good spirits now, but that was undoubtedly because his beloved Mel was also there.

  Mel paused the DVD she was watching, when she heard her sister come in.

  “How’s poor Jess? Is she alright?” she frowned.

  Sal filled her in. Mel hadn’t known Jess for that long – maybe three years – but she’d heard Sal talking about her for a lot longer, and once they’d met, they got along better than Sal could have hoped.

  After such an exhausting day, they decided to have a Chinese takeaway to save having to shop. Mel might be a great cat-sitter, but she was the most disorganised person Sal had ever known. Mel never cooked if she could avoid it, unlike her sister, so she hadn’t brought any food with her for her stay. Sal hadn’t shopped recently either, as they were going away, so the cupboards were relatively bare, except for a few essentials. Sal promised Mel that she’d sort out some provisions the next day.

  The takeaway delivery was going to be at least an hour, so Sal decided to run a bubble bath and relax. Mel ran the vacuum around downstairs while Sal languished in bubbles and felt the stress of the day melt away. She wondered what Marsh was doing, and whether he was missing her. It felt weird being here when she’d geared up to be in Dublin with him, but she had to be grown-up about it. There was no point in mooching.

  Sitting on the sofa with her sister, wrapped up in her fluffy towelling robe, eating her favourite food, she almost forgot the crappy day she’d had.

  “That McIntyre programme thing is on tonight. It’s about football hooliganism, I think? You thought you were going to miss it, so that’s good.”

  Mel was trying to be helpful as she shovelled chicken balls and chop suey into her mouth. She’d never been particularly ladylike and Sal found it sometimes amusing and sometimes extremely off-putting watching her sister eat. She couldn’t help focussing on a beanshoot that was poking out between her sister’s lips as she spoke.

  “We can watch it together, if you want?” Mel suggested.

  “Oooh yes, ta, it looks brilliant.” Sal loved that her sister knew her so well. “Phwoar, that’ll cheer me up!”

  “Humph,” grunted Mel with a full mouth, rolling her eyes. “Don’t let Marshmallow hear you say that. Donal’s not that good-looking, anyway.”

  Sal was fascinated as she watched her sister continuing to shovel and chew. She didn’t share her sister’s idea of what made an attractive man, that’s for sure. Sal had always gone for personality over looks in her partner, but she congratulated herself that Marsh was incredibly gorgeous as well as being talented, loyal and a highly entertaining person to be around.

  Mind you, it was rare for Mel to fancy anyone – except Matt Goss, whom she’d had plastered all over her bedroom walls as a kid. Other than him, Mel kept her views on that sort of thing very much to herself. It was the one area that they didn’t discuss, much to Sal’s disappointment.

  Jess, had joked that Marsh was bit of a dad replacement for Sal when they had first got together, but Sal never saw that. She’d never trusted anyone so completely and she wasn’t sure where that dream had come from, the night before. Sal wanted her sister to experience the secure feeling she had with Marsh, too, but she was beginning to think it might never happen.

  She smiled gently as she watched Mel eat. She might be rather biased, but she thought Mel was pretty. A gentle soul un
derneath the tough exterior, her short, wavy blonde hair was always neat and moussed. She had a beautiful face with full lips, perfect teeth, and a gorgeous smile when she wasn’t scowling. Her figure was an enviable size 14 and utterly in proportion. She never showed off her curves though, choosing instead to wear extra-wide skating jeans when she wasn’t at work. Sal thought they looked ridiculous, especially when paired with big, baggy hoodies with ‘Blur’ scrawled across them. Mel was usually physically fairly graceful, and the only time that slipped was when she ate. Although she didn’t eat huge portions, she lost all her manners when it came to food.

  “What’re you staring at?” Mel frowned, stabbing at her dinner petulantly with her fork. She was self-conscious and Sal knew she hated being watched.

  “Sorry, I was lost in thought. I’m wondering how Jess and Adam are doing now, that’s all. Looking through you, though, not at you.”

  “Well don’t. It’s putting me off my chicken balls. Watch Donal instead.”

  Sal sighed as she picked at the rest of her dinner. It was going to be a long week.

  3

  The next couple of days disappeared in a haze of visiting, chatting, shopping and sleeping. Sal couldn’t remember the last time she’d talked so much to Jess during the day, and to Mel in the evening. Not that Mel was the chattiest of people, particularly if she was online, so Sal managed to get some quiet time.

  She was missing Marsh more than she had anticipated. She was generally fine if it had been planned that she’d stay home, in which case she would enjoy some time to herself. Having been on the cusp of going, though, she hadn’t fully prepared herself to be without him. She couldn’t see the girls, either, as they’d made other plans on the assumption that she was going to be away with their dad.

  Marsh had sent the occasional short text so far, but Sal had real trouble with this growing fascination everyone seemed to have for tapping out messages on a telephone handset. It was such a pain to have to press a button three or four times to get one single letter, that her replies tended to be ‘xxxx’ or ‘Love you’. They talked properly after each gig, anyway, when Marsh would call her for a 10-15-minute chat, voice-to-voice like normal people did. It was enough to keep her informed and to hear his voice. Sal was happy to wait for the call, which invariably came sometime before midnight. Mel radiated mock scorn towards her sister for sitting next to the ‘phone, willing it to ring, but Sal knew that in reality she thought it was cute.

  Sal had never felt so deeply attuned to anyone before. Her previous lack of trust had been the reason she’d avoided relationships after her marriage to her husband, David, had broken down so quickly and painfully. By marrying at 18, having been with him since she was 15, she had naively managed to convince herself that it was true love and that it would last forever. It most certainly didn’t, though, and the less she pondered on that now, the better. If she ever indulged that masochistic part of her that liked picking at scabs, she ended up an emotional wreck. It wasn’t worth it.

  When Marsh had come along, years later, she’d felt instantly and instinctively safe with him, without much effort on his part. Yes, he was decades older than her, but the moment she met him that evening with Jess at the Apollo, she’d felt something entirely different to anything she’d experienced before. Still, she’d told herself it was a fling – something exciting and wonderful. She had never in her wildest dreams imagined then, that within six months he’d be asking her to move in with her and be step-mum to his kids.

  The irony of that role hadn’t passed her by, though. David had desperately wanted children, but Sal hadn’t got a maternal bone in her body and they’d been too young and immature to discuss it before they married. She knew that being determined not to have children had caused her husband to completely change towards her. It had been the last nail in the coffin of their short marriage. Still, that was no excuse for the dreadful way he’d treated her.

  Yet despite everything, here she was being a loving maternal figure to two wild young adults. She had no idea how they’d charmed their way into her heart, but she couldn’t imagine her life without them, now. Christ, they’d driven her mad sometimes in the early days. They still had the capacity to badly hurt her feelings and wind her up, which they did on a fairly regular basis, but she loved them with all her heart, now.

  Marsh was kind and never acted his age, which meant he was a fun dad to the girls. He emanated a slight edge of danger and ‘bad lad’ to women, and although he’d had his fair share of encounters with groupies, he had always sworn that he would never cheat on Sallie. He was definite about that and she wholeheartedly believed him. His first wife had cheated on him while he was away on a long tour; he’d found out the hard way that being in such a popular band wasn’t conducive to a successful marriage. Admittedly, he hadn’t been faithful to his wife either, but losing her and the two girls had been a massive blow to him.

  After that, he had steered clear of full-on relationships in general and enjoyed the attention the band afforded him. Until he had met Sal, he’d earned himself a reputation as a serial shagger. Sal had changed that, much to everyone’s surprise.

  Sal had no reason to doubt Marsh’s commitment to her, despite knowing only too well that the tour bus was a notorious den of iniquity. She’d witnessed some incredible scenes on tour (and many that she really wished she hadn’t) to thoroughly illustrate that point. For her, though, it was enough to hear him say ‘I love you, Pumpkin,’ on the ‘phone every night before she slept. It was quite nice to have the whole bed to herself for a bit, but she would always rather have his six-foot-four frame next to her.

  “He’s going to do the dirty, mate,” Jess had warned her when Sal first moved in with him. “I love Marsh, you know that, but he can’t keep it in his pants.”

  Jess had always maintained that no one could change so drastically and had delivered her warning once it got serious between Sal and Marsh.

  “He loves you, that much is obvious. But he loved his wife too, and look what happened there.”

  Sal had scowled at Jess, refusing to listen to any hint of nay-saying. She was upset that Jess seemed to be willing her relationship to fail, and she couldn’t fathom why her best friend might do that.

  Sal had been by Jess’s side for years, supporting her through all manner of difficult times, even when she didn’t agree with what her friend had done. Sal didn’t think it was unreasonable to hope for a little bit of support from Jess in return. She wanted everyone to believe as wholeheartedly as she did, that she and Marsh were unbreakable. Most people had come around to her way of thinking once they saw how besotted they were.

  Marsh had demonstrated to Sal how much he loved her, when her wonderful mum had died suddenly, just over a year earlier. Sal was in San Francisco at a gig with Marsh when she’d learned from Mel by telephone that their mum had suffered a massive heart-attack and had collapsed and died in Sainsbury’s. The suddenness of it had left her in utter disbelief, and for a full day she didn’t say a thing about it to anyone, not even Marsh. She acted completely normally and refused to believe what she had been told.

  It wasn’t until they were packing up the venue that something someone said reminded her of her mum. Her mind was flooded with images and the most awful pain swept over her. Doug, one of the lighting techs, and Rex, the sound guy, had found her in a dark corner, scrunched up, holding her knees and sobbing her heart out. Wracking sobs, right from her gut. Rex looked spectacularly awkward at the sight of a woman who was usually so together, ugly-crying. He was quickly despatched to find Marsh or Jess, while Doug tried to comfort her. She was inconsolable and although she couldn’t speak coherently, she’d appreciated Doug’s gentle hugs and kind words. She’d fully intended to thank him later on, but had never got around to it.

  Jess as always, had stepped in and arranged for Sal and Marsh to return home immediately. A Marsh replacement was found to attend the next couple of gigs, and they flew home. Marsh had arranged everything for the funeral
and wake, while the two sisters adjusted to the news –a word or two of direction from Sal and it was done. Both Sal and Mel had struggled to cope with the inevitable practicalities after their mum’s death, and wrestled individually with their painful, grinding grief. They were both incredibly grateful to Marsh for taking charge as he had, although Mel would never dream of showing him that.

  *****

  Mel had said she was happy to stay on with Sal for the week, as planned, to keep her sister company. She got up early to walk to work, but Sal had never been an early bird, so she slept in. Sal had her days mapped out in a regimented style for the week, splitting each day between hospital, shops and home, so a lay-in was a treat.

  The day after the operation, Sal was disconcerted to find that Jess seemed remarkably like her old self when she arrived to visit. She was alert, making jokey remarks and asking lots of questions about the band. Sal was concerned that she seemed to have completely recovered from the loss of her baby, but that was impossible.

  “I’ve been meaning to have a look at that new mag that’s come out – Heat, is it?” Jess asked. “It’s entertainment stuff so could be useful for the band. I might as well make use of being stuck in here.”

  Sal was baffled. Although she was glad to see her friend acting like her old self, something wasn’t right. How could she be thinking about work less than a day after major surgery, and losing her baby?

  “Sure, I’ve seen it,” she said. “I’ll get it if I can. Jess… are you okay? I mean…”

  “I’m fine!” Jess barked.

  Sal didn’t feel equipped to challenge her, and she decided she probably shouldn’t, even if she could. Sal couldn’t imagine how Jess was coping and if she needed to be this way, Sal would support her.

  It was also clear to Sal that Jess was struggling without access to her PC while she was incapacitated. In other circumstances, it might have amused Sal to watch Jess’s internet withdrawal symptoms wreaking havoc. But it would have been perfect as a distraction from the reality of Jess’s world. She could have escaped into her work.