The Emerging

by Tanya Allan

  Indeed, it was John Parnell’s generosity that had enabled Neil to send all three of his children to university and to see them in good jobs and settled before he died. William went into management for an engineering firm in West London, while Linda became a consultant for a promising interior design company and married a financial adviser called Graham. Billy’s brother John (named after Neil’s employer) had been the baby and he was now a head teacher of a grammar school in Amersham, Buckinghamshire.

  “Hello Carrie, it’s Linda. Is Billy there?”

  “No, he’s just popped out with Compo,” Carrie sad, sensing that Linda was upset.

  “It’s Mum, she’s been rushed into hospital with chest pains and breathing difficulties.”

  Oh God, not another thing! Carrie thought.

  “How long ago?” she asked.

  “I just got the call. I tried to get hold of John, but he’s busy. Graham is in Brussels again, so I’m heading to the hospital with Kenneth now. I was hoping that Billy would meet me there.”

  “He shouldn’t be too long, Linda. I’ll tell him as soon as he comes in,” Carrie said, reluctant to share their own problems with an already distraught sister-in-law.

  Billy and Carrie lived in a small village in Buckinghamshire called Denham, on the outer fringe of West London. They'd moved here because his previous office had been in Acton, and this was an easy distance for commuting straight down the A40. After getting married, they had lived in Ealing, but both had become fed up with the hustle and bustle of London, so it had been an easy decision some twelve years ago.

  Then, life had been good. He had been a successful manager of a branch of a big Multi-national Engineering Corporation. His salary had given them a good standard of living and paid for things like school fees, expensive cars and lovely holidays. Therefore, the slide after being made redundant had been that much harder. They had some savings and investments, but they wouldn't last forever.

  He hadn’t shared with his wife that the specialist told him that the arteries feeding his heart needed a triple bypass otherwise it was 78% likely that he would suffer a massive heart attack within twelve months. Carrie knew he was having heart problems, but not the extent to which he required surgery.

  He walked into the country park and wandered aimlessly for half an hour. His mind was turning over many things, not least his personal demon, his health.

  He did what he always had done. He shrugged it off and buried the fear deep in his subconscious. He made his way home.

  Carrie met him at the door with the news of his mother.

  He got to the hospital in time. He found his sister and nephew, Kenneth, sitting in the A & E holding his mother’s hand. They had not yet managed to secure a bed in the High dependency Unit.

  “Oh, Billy!” Linda exclaimed and collapsed on him, crying. He peered over her shoulder at the still form of his mother on the bed.

  She was still in her nightdress and wore an oxygen mask over her face. A urinary catheter tube disappeared up into her groin and ended in a bag by the bed. Several IV tubes fed into her arm from a variety of plastic bags. A heart and breathing monitor bleeped and did what monitors do.

  She was breathing in short raspy movements. He didn’t think she looked like his mother.

  “What did the doctor say?” he asked.

  “They think she’s got pneumonia. The pain is fluid on the lungs.”

  “When did this start?”

  “I saw her on Sunday for lunch. She was fine then. She had a bit of a sniffle, but claimed to be okay. On Monday she called the doctor who told her to take some Ibuprophen and keep drinking fluids. I popped in on Tuesday and she said she didn’t feel like eating. I noticed her breathing was a bit wheezy, but she told me that I was fussing. I offered to take her to the doctor, but she said she was fine. You know how she was. Anyway, I asked her neighbour to keep an eye on her, and it was she who called the ambulance today. She’d fallen going to the loo, possibly sometime in the night.”

  While she was telling him the tale of woe, two doctors came over. The older one introduced himself as the senior consultant.

  “Your mother is very sick,” he said.

  They could both gather that.

  “I have to be honest; it’s not uncommon for people of your mother’s age to fail to recover from an infection like this. But we’ll do all we can. I just think that perhaps you should prepare yourselves for the possibility that she may not get better.”

  “You mean she’ll die?” asked William, disliking the man’s inability to say it as it is.

  “I’m afraid so.”

  That started Linda wailing again.

  The doctor muttered some inanities and wandered off. A nurse bustled up and said she had to attend to things. She asked them to step out of the way as she pulled the curtain round the bed.

  “How long have you been here?” he asked his sister.

  “I’m not sure, a couple of hours.”

  “Why don’t you go and ring Graham in Brussels and let him know and then grab a coffee?”

  “Are you sure?”

  He smiled, squeezing her hand.

  “Of course. I’ll sit with her. If it’s going to be the end, then at least one of us will be here.”

  The nurse pulled back the curtains and smiled at them.

  “All tickety-boo now. We’re trying to get her a bed in the HDU, so it might not be long,” she said.

  Linda kissed her mother, as if she knew she would never see her again alive. Then she bustled out of the A&E, grateful for the release for a while. Kenneth lingered for a moment, staring bleakly at his grandmother on the bed.

  “That doesn’t look like her,” he said.

  “No, you’re right, she doesn’t.”

  “I’ve never seen a dead person,” the lad said.

  “Well, let’s hope you don’t have to just yet.”

  The boy almost smiled, but then just nodded and followed after his mother. William watched him go. He was a pleasant lad, a bit wet, though; didn’t have a lot of get up and go, but William didn’t think kids today did.

  William sat on the ubiquitous plastic chair and took his mother’s hand.

  He had no regrets, as he had a good relationship with both his parents. He just felt an overwhelming feeling of sadness weigh him down. If she died and he was unable to get a job, and then his heart.......

  The wave of depression hit him like an express train.

  At that moment the monitor attached to his mother sounded an alarm.

  His next clear and conscious thought was of confusion. That might sound daft, but one moment he was by his mother’s bedside, and the next he was in a hospital bed looking up at his distraught wife.

  “Oh God, Billy?”

  He frowned, wondering what had happened, but then a tall man with a dark face and a white coat stepped into view.

  “Mr Baldwin, I must tell you that you’ve had a heart attack. Your mother, I’m sad to say, passed away and we suspect the shock of that triggered your attack. You’re stable now, but you need a by-pass operation as a matter of urgency.”

  “Mum’s dead?” he asked. Carrie nodded, sobbing into her handkerchief. William knew it wasn’t for his mother.

  He shrugged, strangely relieved that the old girl didn’t have to see him like this.

  “She had a good innings and she’ll be happy to be with dad again,” he said, which made Carrie wail the harder.

  “Your brother is coming in, and so we’d like you to rest now.”

  Billy took Carrie’s hand.

  “It’ll be all right, love; you’ll see.”

  John arrived to find his sister Linda and the sixteen year old Kenneth in the relatives’ room. John resembled their mother more than their father, while Billy was not unlike old Neil. Kenneth was like neither of his parents. He was a tall lad, but slender and fine of feature. Linda had dark brown hair, greying now. Graham, on the other hand, was almost totally bald. No one was quite sure where Kenneth�
��s fair hair came from, until Billy remembered that their mother had been fair. She went grey at an early age, so none of them remembered.

  “What’s happened?” he asked.

  Linda dissolved in tears, so Kenneth had to tell his uncle what had transpired.

  “Grandma’s died and Uncle Bill had a heart attack.”

  “Bloody hell, when?”

  “Just after grandma died, they said. It was the shock or something like that.”

  “Is he all right?”

  “Um, I think so, but the doctor said something about a by-pass.”

  “Where’s mum?” John asked.

  “In a side room; they said we can see her if we want, but Mum said we’ll wait for you.”

  The trio went along to speak to the A&E sister, who took them to where their mother was laid out in the side room.

  “She looks peaceful, now,” John said.

  “She looks better than she did earlier; more like she used to look like. She looks asleep,” said Kenneth.

  Linda just cried.

  “This is a rum do; where’s Bill?”

  “He’s in A&E waiting for a bed in the cardio unit.”

  They sat in silence with the dead woman for a couple of minutes.

  “Still, she’ll be glad to be with Dad again,” said John.

  “That’s just what Uncle Bill said.”

  “At least it was quick. It’s the lingering death I don’t want.”

  Linda cried some more.

  The nurse came in with a green carrier bag.

  “I’m sorry for your loss, Mr Baldwin, Mrs Frost. These are your mother’s personal affects. Please let me know if there’s anything we can do at this sad time.”

  John thanked her and took the bag. The nurse stayed for a moment, but as there did not seem to be any questions, she told them about what they had to do, having included a card with a number of the bereavement service at the hospital.

  “Please call and make an appointment. They’ll issue the certification and tell you what you have to do to register the death.”

  John felt tears sting his eyes at the mention of the death certificate. It was so final.

  “Thanks,” he managed to grunt.

  The nurse smiled and left them alone.

  “Have you seen Bill?” he asked his sister.

  She nodded, still crying.

  “Is Carrie here?”

  Kenneth said, “Yes, she with him.”

  “I’ll go see if the old sod is all right, I suppose. Are you coming?” he asked Linda.

  She shook her head.

  “I want to stay with mum for a minute or two. Take Kenneth, if you like. I want to be alone,” she said.

  Kenneth went with his uncle, back along to A&E.

  “Are you okay?” John asked.

  “I suppose.”

  “How’s school?”

  “All right.”

  “Got a girlfriend yet?”

  Kenneth frowned; every time John saw him he asked the same stupid questions.

  “No, not yet.”

  “You’ve plenty of time.”

  They arrived at Bill’s booth in A&E to find two porters and the nurses busy preparing to move him. He looked rather grey under the oxygen mask.

  Carrie was crying quietly, out of the people’s way. She almost smiled for her brother-in-law and nephew.

  “How is he?”

  “Stable, but he needs an urgent by-pass. Apparently he was told this by the specialist a while ago, and kept it to himself.”

  John frowned.

  “Why?”

  “He didn’t want to worry me. What with being made redundant and now his mother…” she tailed off, crying again.

  The staff nurse approached him

  “Hello, are you family?”

  “I’m his brother.”

  “Good, then we’re moving him up to the cardio ward. The specialist has seen him and it looks as if he’ll be detained for possible emergency surgery. He needs a triple by-pass.”

  “Is he critical?”

  “Not exactly; it is serious, but he’s in the right place. I understand he was on the list, so this way he’ll get done a little quicker.”

  “Do we need to stay?”

  “That’s up to you. He’s been sedated and is on various drugs to assist the blood flow. If I were you, I’d go home. We’ll call if there’s any news or change. I understand you’ve had a rough day?”

  “That’s one word for it. Thank you.”

  She smiled briefly; that smile that busy professionals give when they know you’re hurting and there’s nothing they can really do to help.

  “Give it half an hour and then you can ring the ward direct for any updates,” she said, writing a phone number on a piece of paper. “This is the direct line to the ward.”

  Moments later, there was a new bed rolled into where Billy had been and the three of them had to move away. They regrouped with Linda in the relative’s room with the dead woman.

  “Graham is on his way, Carrie; do you want to come and stay for a while?” Linda asked.

  “I don’t know what I want. I think I’d rather go home, but I’m not sure I want to be alone just now. It’s closer to the hospital where I am, and then there’s Compo. I can’t just leave him.”

  “I’ll come and stay for a day or so, if you’d like, Aunt Carrie?”

  “Won’t your mother need you?”

  “As Mum said, Dad’s on his way home, so he’ll probably get there before us. I’m on school holidays, so I’ve got my iPad, so I can revise and stuff just as easy with you than at home.”

  “I’ll follow you back to Cookham, then,” said John. “I can collect your stuff and take you back to Denham before going home.”

  “Are you sure, John?”

  “It’s the least I can do. I’m on holiday too, or as much as a headmaster ever can be.”

  So, as Billy slumbered in a drug-induced sleep, his family tried to deal with the double whammy of a bereavement and serious illness. Of all this he was blissfully unaware.

  Carrie did not like to admit it, but she was grateful that young Kenneth had come home with her. He was a nice young lad: easy-going and not difficult to deal with. Billy often said he was a bit wet or a bit of a poof, but she found Kenneth a nice-looking boy who was polite and respectful.

  Their eldest son, David, was working for a company in Singapore, in the Far East. He’s been there for three years, and adored the life. He was a computer genius, having sailed through his university doing IT and system management. To be perfectly honest, Carrie had no idea what he did. He just worked with computers; that’s all she knew.

  Melissa, two years younger than David, had recently left University and was in America. It was supposed to be a six month break, but it had been over a year now. She had gone as a tourist, but was offered a job in LA. She was a designer, specifically in fashion, but had been prepared for a struggle to find a job in the UK, which was why she took a break when she could at least afford it.

  She had fallen into the job by accident. She’d been staying with a friend she had met skiing in Colorado. This girl’s mother was a fashion designer for some of the rich and famous. Melissa had seen some of the designs and obviously started talking shop.

  Having a portfolio on her laptop meant that Georgia (the mother) was able to see what Melissa was capable of.

  Two months later she applied for her green card, having been sponsored by Georgia and was now working for her in one of the most prestigious companies in California.

  Carrie had spoken to both the children, and told them emphatically not to come home. Billy would be devastated knowing that they’d had to drop everything for his sake.

  “If things get bad, then I’ll call, but in the meantime, just watch and wait,” Carrie had told them on Skype, when they last spoke.

  Kenneth sat on the floor of his bedroom at his aunt’s house playing with Compo. He liked it here, as it was away from his mother for a while,
and he adored the dog. The feeling was quite mutual, as no one paid as much attention to him as did Kenneth.

  Kenneth and his parents had a Jack Russell called Basil, who was a litter-brother of Compo. Their friends, the Standens, had a Jack Russell bitch called Lucy who had a litter of six, and the two boys were slow in finding homes, so Linda and Carrie took one each.

  Recently, both his parents had been ‘on at him’ for various things. In the main he felt they were anxious for him to fulfil their expectations of him, rather than encourage him to explore and attempt to fulfil his own.

  He felt quite melancholy, which was not uncommon. It wasn’t the fact his grandmother was dead, as he had not been that close to her. He saw her at family gatherings, and that was about it. He had not been that close to his uncle, who now lay ill in hospital, as he actually found Uncle Bill rather a dinosaur in his attitudes.

  Kenneth was a slender youth, with rather too long hair and a definite effeminate air. He was an arty child, much to his father’s disappointment. Graham was a rugger-chap, who had only just stopped playing it due to time constraints. Kenneth was not into team sports, enjoying swimming and partaking in badminton, if pushed.

  Although he dearly wanted to, Kenneth was unable to pursue his own fulfilment, for that would require a complete change in gender. He was as convinced now as he had been when aged just four that he should have been a girl. When however, one is the only child of ambitious parents, it is tougher than tough to voice one’s feelings.

  He had, in the naivety of youth, expressed just such a desire when he was around five.

  He had been laughed at by both his parents, and the idea pooh-poohed as being the ‘silly notions of a child!’ he had tried again when around nine, and then again at twelve. Each time both parents became quite cross and told him he was being ridiculous, as boys just didn’t become girls, unless they were very sick. Kenneth didn’t feel sick. He hadn’t voiced the feeling again for a while, despite it taking over almost every waking moment.

  It was so ever pervasive that he had no particular desire to formulate any form of ambition, as it was all so irrelevant somehow. If he couldn’t be a girl first, then nothing else mattered.

  He tried dressing in his mother’s clothes when alone in their home. He received a little thrill, that aroused him, but it was the image of what he could have been rather than the clothes or their feel on his skin.