Give a Little Love

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Give a Little Love Page 2

by Cathy Woodman


  ‘Sally, phone,’ I said. ‘Fetch my phone.’

  She gazed at me, her head tipped to one side as if she was unsure what to do, and as I growled with frustration, she turned and pulled my robe from the wheelchair. She dragged it across my body to cover me up before collecting my mobile from the basket and pressing it into my hand.

  ‘Thank you,’ I whispered, sorry that I couldn’t reward her this time with her ball. ‘You are a star.’ She plonked herself down beside me as I dialled Declan’s number. There was no reply so I called the agency.

  ‘He’s on his way, I believe. There isn’t a problem, is there?’ Carole asked.

  ‘Oh no, everything’s fine,’ I said, wishing I’d given Declan the spare key.

  If I’d let on that I’d had a fall because I’d attempted to do something I shouldn’t have done, Carole would have replaced Declan with a female carer, and my sister would have had a go at me about having a live-in help or moving into supported accommodation. There was no way that was going to happen – I valued my independence above all else.

  I started to cry with pain and humiliation, and Sally looked at me with a weary expression as if to say, This is all your fault, you are a complete idiot, but I love you all the same.

  I don’t know how long I stayed there, lying on the cold tiles, my head aching and shooting pains travelling down my useless legs. It could have been twenty minutes. It could have been an hour, before Sally scrambled up and trotted out of the bathroom at the sound of a car outside, followed by a knocking then a hammering at the front door. Relief flooded through me.

  ‘I can’t get there,’ I called, but my voice sounded weak and weedy, and I didn’t know if anyone could hear me.

  ‘Penny?’ Declan shouted through the letterbox. ‘Are you there? Are you okay?’

  To my consternation, the house fell silent. Where was he? I had a moment of panic. Had he gone away? Surely, not.

  Sally uttered a single bark and ran back through the house. I heard the click of the flap and Declan swearing lightly before he appeared in front of my eyes, with Sally at his side, wagging her tail with joy. His hair gleamed like a halo in the bathroom spotlights.

  ‘Pen,’ he exclaimed, diving onto his knees beside me. ‘Are you okay? Anything broken?’

  ‘Only my pride, I think,’ I said, dragging myself onto my arms. ‘Thank goodness you’re here.’

  ‘It’s a good thing I’m skinny enough to fit through the man-flap,’ he laughed. ‘What on earth were you doing? No, you don’t have to tell me.’

  ‘I do,’ I said, as he picked up the robe and wrapped it around me properly, covering my modesty without comment, without even the raising of an eyebrow or a hint of salaciousness in his expression. I decided to be honest with him. ‘I was being stupid. I thought if I could manage the shower by myself, there’d be no obstacle to you staying on as my carer.’

  The warmth in his eyes and the gentle way that he held me, melted my heart and defused the anger that I felt towards myself.

  ‘Okay, when you first turned up, my reaction was to send you away, because you’re…’ As he supported me in his arms, his scent of musk and masculinity filled my senses, temporarily distracting me from what I was trying to say.

  ‘A man?’ he finished for me, his voice hoarse.

  ‘Exactly.’ And a very manly one at that, I thought. ‘I’m a private person. I didn’t think I could cope with you seeing me naked.’

  ‘I think you coped very well,’ he said. ‘I hope I don’t make you feel embarrassed or awkward.’

  ‘I’m only embarrassed that you had to find me sprawled out on the floor. You wouldn’t believe how pleased I am to see you.’ It didn’t matter that he was a man and I was a woman. It felt like he was a friend that I’d known all my life, which was strange, considering he was born thirteen years after me.

  He helped me straighten into a sitting position on the floor. I winced.

  ‘You aren’t all right. You’ve hurt yourself. I should call the doctor.’

  ‘No, it’s the usual pain,’ I murmured. ‘There are times when it really gets to me.’ I used to embrace the shooting pains down my spine and legs as a sign that I was getting better, that one day I’d regain sensation in my toes and some strength in my muscles, enough maybe to walk again, but they’re just a cruel trick. ‘It makes me angry and hard to get along with. In fact, I can be vile. I don’t mean to be.’

  ‘I can’t imagine you being vile,’ he said with a gentle smile, at which my chest tightened and my mouth ran dry.

  I was horrified at my reaction. Declan was actually very attractive in a geeky sort of way, but far too young for me. I put it down to delayed shock and the fact that he was being kind and I didn’t see many men around… and I’d taken a knock to the head.

  ‘Now, put your arms around my neck and hang on tight. Don’t argue,’ he added when I hesitated.

  ‘What about your back?’

  ‘I’ll be fine. You’re as light as a feather.’ He grunted as he strained to lift me, holding on to the handrail for support. ‘Two feathers, maybe,’ he said, chuckling and moving swiftly out of the bathroom and along the hall.

  ‘Where are we going? My chair?’ I protested as he carried me into the bedroom and laid me on the bed. He propped me up on the pillows and started to pull my robe down over my knees.

  ‘What’s that?’ he asked, pointing towards my shin.

  I pretended to look, but I knew what it was.

  ‘It’s just a mole. I have lots of them.’

  ‘Shouldn’t you get it checked?’ he went on.

  ‘It’s nothing.’

  ‘You should,’ he insisted.

  ‘I don’t believe in doctors,’ I said sharply. ‘If they’d been on the ball the night of the accident, they’d have picked up on Mark’s condition and operated sooner. He might still be alive.’

  Declan touched my hand briefly. ‘You don’t know that for sure, do you?’

  ‘I can’t prove it,’ I admitted. ‘The A&E department was in chaos that night, I was in shock and my husband was dying in the cubicle alongside mine.’

  ‘I’m so sorry. It must have been awful, but I really think–’

  ‘All right,’ I interrupted. ‘I’ll ask the doctor to take a look next time I see him.’

  Declan covered my legs with my robe and pulled the duvet up to my waist.

  ‘I’ll get you a drink,’ he said. ‘Have you got anything stronger than coffee?’

  ‘There’s some brandy in the kitchen. It’s in the cupboard above the fridge.’ I’d made sure it was out of reach so I couldn’t drink myself to oblivion. There were times when I wished that I could, but now wasn’t one of them.

  Declan returned with the bottle and a glass, and poured me a generous measure.

  ‘I don’t need it,’ I said as he handed it to me.

  ‘It’ll make you feel better. Trust me.’

  I took a sip. He was right, but just as I was beginning to relax, my mobile rang from the bathroom. Sally fetched it for me. It was Carole.

  ‘Is Declan with you now? I just wanted to check.’

  ‘He’s here,’ I confirmed.

  ‘Can I have a quick word with him?’

  ‘Well, yes, I suppose so.’ I handed the phone over, a little affronted that Carole had to hear it directly from him.

  ‘Everything’s fine,’ Declan said. ‘I’m sorry, I couldn’t answer my phone. I was driving.’

  ‘Thank you for not letting on about my little slip-up,’ I said afterwards.

  ‘I don’t like to snitch on people and I’m pretty sure you won’t try it a second time.’ He smiled again. ‘So, are you going to give me the push? It’s all right. I can take it,’ he added gamely.

  ‘No. You’re hired.’ I felt more cheerful now as the brandy set fire to my cheeks and my belly.

  ‘That’s great,’ he said. ‘I was really looking forward to seeing you this morning.’

  ‘It’s early days,’ I said. ‘You�
��ll change your mind.’

  ‘I can cope with a little eccentricity.’

  ‘Thanks a lot.’

  ‘It’s a compliment, but you must promise me that you won’t pull a stunt like that again. Please tell me you’ll behave yourself in future.’

  ‘Oh, I can’t do that,’ I said in a teasing tone.

  ‘I was afraid you were going to say that.’ He helped me dress and transfer back to the wheelchair, and I made my way into the living room where he brought me coffee.

  ‘So what is it that inspires you to paint?’ he asked, sitting on the sofa. ‘Do you work outdoors?’

  ‘I use photos and sketches. My sister took me out and about when she was last down. Most of my art comes from the heart. It’s about emotions, not reality.’

  ‘A bit like music.’ He put his coffee down. ‘I’ll show you my drumming muscle.’

  ‘That sounds a little suggestive,’ I said archly.

  ‘Well, you’ve already shown me your etchings.’ He chuckled as he leaned towards me and pointed to a small bulge at his elbow. ‘You can touch if you like.’

  I reached out at his invitation, feeling a little wicked. It was like iron.

  ‘I’m impressed.’

  ‘That comes from hours of practice and playing. I play guitar too and write some of our songs.’

  ‘I imagine you have a lot of groupies.’

  ‘A few. We have a pretty good following now.’ He changed the subject. ‘Do you ever light the fire in here?’

  ‘What do you think? No, I couldn’t carry heavy logs about or get down to clean the ashes from the grate. I had the chimney swept when I moved in, but it was wishful thinking.’

  ‘I’ll light it for you one day, if you like. My mate has a piece of woodland – I can get a few logs off him.’

  ‘I’d like that, but I don’t want to put you to any trouble. It’s beyond your remit.’

  ‘It would be a pleasure. Really.’ He grinned. ‘So don’t argue.’

  ‘Haven’t you got somewhere to go, Mary Poppins?’ I asked. He wasn’t like the other carers I’d had.

  ‘I’ll be off soon – and back tonight. Can I whizz you up some lunch before I go? I’m no chef, but I make a pretty mean omelette.’

  ‘It’s fine, thanks. I have some pasta in the fridge.’

  ‘I’ll see you later then.’

  ‘I don’t know how to thank you,’ I said as he got up to leave.

  ‘There’s no need. It’s all part of the service.’

  I sat at the living-room window with Sally nudging at my shin while I watched him go, folding his long limbs to get into his car – a tatty estate with room for a set of drums, I guessed. He waved as he drove away, and I was left with a warm glow, and not just from the brandy. I’d revealed far more of myself – and I didn’t mean physically because I’d done that already – than I’d intended. I was happy and looking forward to Christmas for the first time in three years, but I couldn’t help wondering how long the feeling would last.

  As the weeks went by, I began to realise that Declan had become essential to my happiness. He’d kept his promise to light a fire for me, and though he probably shouldn’t, after he finished work, he’d come back to the cottage and we’d spend the evening watching films in front of the fire. Those were my favourite times, because he was with me out of choice, and not because it was his job. His presence calmed me, and even when the pain was bad and my temper got the better of me, he seemed to understand, and was always caring and cheerful.

  By March, I finally admitted to myself that my feelings for Declan went deeper than just friendship. I loved him. It made me both deliriously happy, and terrified at the same time. Happy because I never thought I’d fall in love again. Terrified because what on earth could a young man like him see in a thirty-five-year-old woman like me; he’d run a mile if he knew what I was thinking.

  However, there was one issue that was guaranteed to make him lose his temper: my refusal to go and see a doctor about the mole on my leg. He was worse than Sally, constantly nagging me about it. Secretly I hoped his worry was an indication that he felt more for me than just friendship.

  Spring arrived and, feeling happier than I had since my accident, I filled, my canvases with bright colours as the daffodils and tulips burst into bloom. My sister drove me and Sally to spend a week in London for the opening of a friend’s art gallery where I sold three paintings. I was on cloud nine when I returned to Talyford and couldn’t wait to tell Declan all about the trip.

  ‘You’ll have to take me with you when you go away again,’ he said lightly, and I wondered how serious he was. ‘I could drive your car if it’s insured for any driver.’

  ‘That would be useful,’ I said. ‘I wouldn’t have to bother my sister.’

  ‘You could bother me instead.’

  ‘I didn’t mean it like that.’

  ‘I know. You can bother me as much as you like,’ he said fondly. ‘Can I take Sally out for her walk?’

  ‘Not today. I’m waiting for Maz, one of the vets from Otter House, to come and give her, her booster. Would you mind making her a tea if she wants one?’

  ‘Of course not. That’s probably her now,’ he said as the doorbell rang.

  Sally stayed with me when he went to answer the door. She knew something was up, but when the vet entered the room, she ran across to greet her, wagging her tail.

  ‘How is my favourite patient?’ Maz, wearing a slightly baggy pawprint top and dark trousers, squatted down to stroke her. She reminded me of Gwyneth Paltrow, being tall and slim with pale blonde hair. She turned to me. ‘How are you, Penny?’

  ‘I’m very well, thanks. How about you?’

  ‘I’m fine, rushed off my feet as usual, but otherwise everything’s great.’

  We watched Declan duck his head under the beam and disappear off to the kitchen.

  ‘Are you and he…?’ Maz asked, one eyebrow raised.

  ‘Oh, goodness no.’ I shook my head, rattling the beads in my hair, and laid my hand across my chest to add some conviction to my denial. I wasn’t lying. It was true that we weren’t an item, but there was no doubt that I’d like us to be. ‘He’s far too young… No, he’s the loveliest, kindest human being I’ve ever met – excluding you, of course. I’ll never forget what you did for my Sally.’ Without Maz’s intervention Sally would have died from a twisted stomach after she’d eaten a whole Christmas dinner.

  Maz examined Sally and administered her annual vaccination. Sally hardly noticed, her eyes fixed on the custard cream that Declan held out in front of her.

  ‘That’s it, all done,’ Maz said, at which Sally took the biscuit very gently before swallowing it whole. She wandered across to me, sat down and pressed her nose against my leg.

  Maz took a sip of tea – I’m not sure she liked it because she put it aside and packed the used syringe and needle away in her visit case.

  ‘Please, Pen, put my mind at rest,’ Declan muttered aside to me.

  I gave him a look. I wished he wouldn’t say anything, but maybe he was right and it was time to do something about it. I noticed how he glanced at it each time he helped me in and out of the shower. I was being ridiculously stubborn, holding on to my belief that the doctors could have saved Mark on that fateful night, as a way of holding other people accountable for what happened, when it was Mark’s fault for driving under the influence and mine for letting him. The mole on my leg was changing, and it was probably nothing, but did I really want to risk dying after I’d fought so hard to make a life for myself? What would Mark have wanted for me? I made up my mind.

  ‘I know it isn’t really your department, Maz,’ I began. ‘Sally’s been spending a lot of time sitting at my feet with her nose pushed up against my leg.’ I tugged at my trouser leg, revealing a fluffy pink sock and a shiny white shin. ‘Can you see that mark there?’ I added rather foolishly when her expression told it all. The mole was like a brown fungus growing from the surface of my skin.

 
; ‘I keep telling her to see the doctor,’ Declan said after a long silence.

  ‘It isn’t for me to say what that mark is, but Declan’s right,’ Maz said. ‘You really must see a doctor and the sooner the better.’

  ‘Thank you, Maz,’ Declan said as she was leaving. ‘I’ll make sure she contacts the surgery ASAP. Without Penny, I’m without a job. Sorry about the black humour – it goes with the territory. I expect it’s the same for vets.’

  ‘Hey, I heard that,’ I said when he returned to join me from the hall. He bent down beside my chair, took my hand and gazed fiercely into my eyes.

  ‘I was joking around with the vet, but seriously now, I couldn’t bear to lose you. Pen.’

  ‘I’m not going anywhere,’ I said, shocked at the intensity of his reaction.

  ‘I almost lost my mum from cancer because she was too busy, or too scared to go to the doctor.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ I said quietly, reaching out to brush a tear from his cheek. ‘I didn’t realise…’

  ‘She had a mastectomy and chemo, and you wouldn’t know there had ever been anything wrong with her, but the outcome could have been very different.’

  ‘I’m sure this will turn out to be just a mole.’

  ‘Sally doesn’t think so.’

  ‘Sally is a dog. What does she know?’

  A lot, as it turned out. Dr Mackie came to see me, took one look and organised an urgent appointment with a consultant at the hospital who booked me in to have the mole removed under local anaesthetic.

  Declan was with me when I was told that it was a melanoma and I needed further surgery and tests to see if it had spread. And when the doctor gave me the all clear, he cheered and punched the air, then hugged me, pressing my face to his chest until I thought I’d suffocate. I pushed him away, laughing almost hysterically with relief because I’d begun to think I’d had it.

  ‘That is the best news I’ve ever had,’ Declan said, turning to thank the consultant on my behalf. I didn’t know why. He’d never felt the need to speak for me before, but I didn’t mind. I was floating on air. I’d had a lucky escape, considering how many hours I’d spent basking in the midday sun in my teens, in a vain attempt to acquire a tan.

 

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