‘I’ve lost two people to cancer in recent years,’ he interrupted. ‘My mother and my best mate last year. I know it wasn’t me going through the hospital treatments, but I was there with him and know what he went through and how he dreaded telling his wife and family because they suffered too.’
‘Someone close?’
He nodded. ‘Tom. I grew up with him, same street, same school. I learnt a lot from him and, though it may sound lame, he did have moments of true happiness as well as sorrow along the way.’
‘So you’re saying that sitting in a chair, having chemotherapy and knowing, in my case, that there’s no cure, all they can do is maybe prolong my life, that I can be happy? Oh, for God’s sake.’
‘Yes. Yes I am. Peculiar though it might sound – and forgive me if I appear to be full of shit – but, if you let people in, there can be a lot of love. I’m not saying you’ll be happy exactly, but when Tom went, he was at peace. He found his peace. You have to find your peace, Rose. You’re going through a process – shock, denial, guilt, anger, depression – and I’m sure you’ve experienced some of those, but lastly acceptance. You have to get there. You will get there. You have to find your peace.’
I felt a surge of rage inside me. The cheek of the man, sitting there so smug in his good health with his thread bracelets on his wrist, coming out with his bullshit. ‘Well, I’m still in the angry stage. And I might just stay there.’
‘Good. Be angry. You have every right to be. You must feel why me? Why now?’
‘You bet I do. But it doesn’t matter what I feel or think because this thing is happening to me anyway. I feel betrayed by my own body.’
‘It’s going to happen to all of us sooner or later,’ he said. ‘Nothing as certain as death, nothing as uncertain as the hour.’
‘Didn’t Martha say that on one of the recordings?’
‘I think she did. It’s the truth. In our society, death’s a taboo subject, but it’s going to happen to us all sooner or later – you’ve just had an almighty reminder of it.’
‘Yes. Death. Coming soon to a cinema near you, Rose Edwards in the lead role.’
‘Are you scared?’
‘Sometimes but …’ Tears came to my eyes again. ‘It’s telling Hugh and my children I find the hardest. I’ve always been so strong for them, been there to sort out problems, been the family fixer, always in control of things, but I can’t fix this one. I can’t make it better.’
‘You can make it better,’ said Daniel. ‘Maybe not the cancer and what that’s doing to you, but you can still be in control of your state of mind. Rose, if you can find some peace in this process, it will be a lot easier. Let me help you. Your mother Iris, she was at peace—’
‘She was eighty-seven. I’m only just in my fifties. It’s not fair.’
‘No, it’s not fair, but who’s to say really what’s fair and what’s not. Why are some of us born into a free, liberal society with all it has to offer, and others born into poverty and terror? So much in life isn’t fair. In working with the swami, I’ve come to understand the importance of peace of mind. There’s a peace inside all of us that is there regardless of external circumstances. We work with many people who are ill or dying to help them find it and stay tuned to it. Believe me, for those who find their peace of mind, it makes it easier.’
‘I can’t accept that it’s happening to me.’
‘No one ever does at first. But you’re tougher than you think, Rose. And if ever you need someone to talk to, I’m here. I understand. You have my number. I think we were meant to meet today, that it wasn’t a coincidence. That’s why I hung around waiting for you.’
‘And now you sound like some cliché from a romance novel.’
He shrugged. ‘I believe in fate. I believe in synchronicity.’
‘I don’t know what I believe any more.’
The waiter brought more coffee and curiously I found it refreshing to be talking to someone with a different view – someone who wasn’t trying to tell me that it was all going to be all right, that miracles happened, and who didn’t seem fazed by my anger. Daniel seemed to accept the fact I was angry and going to die and, when he talked about it, he appeared to be offering a ray of hope.
After half an hour, I felt exhausted but ready to go home and face Hugh, Simon and Laura. As I headed back to them, I thought a lot about what Daniel had said. There was more to him than I’d given him credit for, and I was beginning to understand why Mum had been taken with him. The consultants gave the facts, the prognosis and the treatment options – that was their job, to work with the body. I didn’t envy them their task, day after day, delivering bad news. At home, my family were tiptoeing around me, treating me with kid gloves, trying to hide their feelings from me as much as I was attempting to hide mine from them. Daniel appeared to understand how it was and he was right. I did have to find some peace in it all. But how?
In the taxi home, my phone beeped that I had two messages. Sorry about the timing of the following text or am I? D. X
Then a message from Mum. ‘Courage doesn’t mean that there’s no fear but that you’ve overcome it.’
I texted Daniel back. Fuck off.
He sent back a smiley.
Banter about cancer? Bizarre, I thought as the taxi drew up outside my house but, strangely, it made me smile. I felt grateful to have someone I could tell to fuck off who wouldn’t mind. Someone who might understand. And I had his offer of someone to talk to. I might take him up on it. I might not. But I’d liked the fact that he’d talked to me as a normal person and had not been afraid to say what he thought.
21
Dee
Saturday 12 March
I am surrounded by birds. Starlings, blackbirds, eagles, peregrines, penguins. My studio up on the top floor was full of them. Some were in watercolours, a couple (the blackbirds) in charcoals and chalk, one (the swans) in acrylic.
‘Best things you’ve ever done,’ said Anna as she looked them over.
‘A reflection of all my different states of mind. Bit of a worry?’
Anna laughed. ‘Have you put prices on them yet?’
‘I’ll leave that to you. I can never work out what would be right.’
‘I’d be glad to do it,’ said Anna. ‘And I want the watercolour of the turkey. It reminds me of Ian when he’s naked. So. All set for this evening?’
I nodded. Today was my fiftieth birthday and there was to be a celebration at the Bell and Anchor. Anna had insisted on it. ‘We have to mark these occasions,’ she’d said, ‘and make our memories.’
At first, I’d resisted, but then I thought of Daniel. How long had it been since I’d had a party to remember with a man that I loved there to share it with me? It would be wonderful and I could introduce him to my friends from the different eras of my life, though he’d already met Anna, and Bet the landlady, in the pub. I agreed to a celebration. Anna took over the arrangements and announced that there was also to be a theme. ‘Gods and goddesses,’ she said. ‘There’s nothing like fancy dress to put everyone in a good mood, plus it breaks the ice for those who don’t know each other.’
Also puts some people off coming, I thought, but I kept my mouth shut; most of my friends were young at heart and up for looking like idiots with little excuse. Anna had sent out invites in plenty of time and, by the week of the party, we were expecting close to eighty people, coming from all over the country, and filling up the local B&Bs, which made their proprietors very happy.
‘And you sure you’re OK with Michael Harris coming?’
I shrugged. ‘Fine. I don’t have to talk to him.’
Ian had got friendly with Michael over the last few months, having discovered a shared love of country music and long walks. Anna had been only too happy to encourage the friendship, so that she didn’t get dragged out in all weathers to trek over the moors. Apparently Michael had stayed in the area a few times, but I’d only seen him down by the bay in the middle of a howling gale so neither of
us had stopped.
I’d invited both my sisters.
‘I’ll be seeing you in April,’ said Rose. ‘We’ll do something then.’
‘Not sure I’ll be in the country,’ said Fleur.
Only when they’d both made their excuses did I invite Daniel, who accepted. We had it all planned. We were going to go as a couple of Egyptian gods and I’d hired costumes from the fancy-dress shop in Torpoint.
*
By seven o’clock, Daniel’s Rameses costume was ready for him, hanging on the back of my bedroom door, and I was dressed as Cleopatra. Anna made my face up in black kohl and gold face paint and, as I looked at my reflection, I felt very glamorous and exotic. Anna was dressed as the Medusa, in a colourful kimono, with rubber snakes and bones in her hair and make-up on her lids, so that when she closed her eyelids, it looked like she had zombie eyes. Quite frightening but very effective.
‘What time will Daniel be here?’ she asked.
I checked my watch for the umpteenth time. ‘I thought he would be here by now. He was supposed to be leaving London around midday. I’ve tried ringing him but it goes to message.’
‘Probably because he’s driving,’ said Anna. ‘Maybe traffic’s bad.’
‘He was getting the train.’
‘Oh. Don’t worry, I’m sure he’ll get here.’
At seven thirty, we made our way down the lanes to the Bell and Anchor, much to the amusement of anyone who happened to be out. Anna waved cheerily at them.
‘We always dress like this on a Saturday night in Cornwall,’ she said to a middle-aged walker who had stopped and was staring.
The pub was packed when we arrived and there was a cheer when Anna and I walked in. I scanned the faces for Daniel, but there was no sign of him, and soon I was caught up in the happy atmosphere, greeting old friends, laughing at their costumes and catching up. Marie had come as a Norse goddess, her blonde hair in two plaits which she’d wrapped around her ears. Mary and Marian from London were screen goddesses from the 1920s; a crowd from Derbyshire, who used to live locally, had come as Indian gods and goddesses with blue faces. Ian had come as Elvis, the rock god, and was having a pint with Michael Harris, who’d come as a Roman god in toga and crown of leaves. ‘Nice legs,’ Anna said as she looked over at him. I nodded to them both and Michael raised his glass and smiled. I smiled back and was glad he didn’t appear to be harbouring bad feelings about the house. Maybe we could be friends in time after all. Around the room, I spotted Linda, the hairdresser, as Patti Smith, a rock goddess, Crystal the masseuse as screen goddess, Marilyn Monroe, over at the bar chatting to Mark, the mechanic, who was dressed as a traditional God in long white robes and full beard. A Mayan god (Barry the builder) chatted to Aphrodite (Bet).
Gordon the dentist appeared at my side and gave me a hug. He was in a silk dressing gown and socks.
‘And you are?’ I asked.
‘Sex god,’ he said and flashed a pair of Union Jack boxers.
‘In your dreams,’ said Anna.
Gordon was with Jack the farmer, who was wearing a furry costume with ears. ‘I read the invite the wrong way round and thought it said come as a dog,’ he told us.
‘Your mum would be happy,’ said Anna as she handed me a glass of champagne then indicated the packed room. ‘All these gods and you’re talking to them all. Still no sign of the love god?’
I shook my head. ‘And his phone is still on message. I hope nothing’s happened to him.’
Anna gave me a hug. ‘He’ll be here. Probably a delay at Exeter or something.’
After an hour of catching up and eating Bet’s fantastic mini-Cornish pasties, Ian called everyone to attention by tinging a glass with a spoon. ‘And now we have a little entertainment for the birthday girl.’
‘Oh no,’ I said. I’d had a feeling that Anna had been up to something in the last few weeks.
Everyone turned to the stage and I prayed that Daniel would have something to do with it as well. Maybe he was going to pop out of a cake. I didn’t care, as long as he was there with us, with me.
The pub suddenly exploded in laughter as Marie and Anna made their way to a piano at the front of the pub. They’d changed out of their goddess clothes and were now dressed as bag ladies, with patterned headscarves tied under their chins, round National Health glasses and, when Anna smiled over at me, I saw that she had in enormous buck teeth, the type you get from a joke shop. Marie took the seat at the piano.
‘Dear Dee,’ said Anna. ‘We’ve written a little song for you for your fiftieth. We hope you like it.’ She turned to Marie. ‘OK, Marie, take it away.’
Marie began to play and I recognized the tune as ‘Sixteen, Going On Seventeen’ from The Sound of Music.
Marie sang first. ‘I am forty-nine, going on fifty, My pubic hair’s gone white. My hips have spread, I’m no good in bed. In fact my sex life is shite.’
Everyone burst out laughing as she continued, ‘Totally unprepared am I, to face the next decade. Baggy and saggy and lined am I, With wrinkles that won’t fade.’
Anna came in next: ‘I am forty-nine, going on fifty, I’m into tantric sex. Up down and sideways, I do it most days, But first have to find my specs.’
She looked over at me and gave me an exaggerated wink. I glanced around again to see if Daniel had arrived. He’d love this, I thought. He’d have creased up laughing. Oh, where is he?
Marie sang: ‘I am forty-nine, going on fifty, Baby, I’ve turned to drink, Gin, wine or brandy, whatever’s handy …’
‘And champagne, but make it pink,’ Anna added.
They sang on with great gusto, clearly having a great old time.
‘Gone is my sight and half my brain,
The memories they grow dim,’
I spotted Mrs Rowley from the corner shop at the bar. She looked like she was going to choke with laughter on her pint.
Anna and Marie hadn’t finished: ‘I am forty-nine, going on fifty, Everything’s in decline. I lean on the Aga, Reading my Saga, And I drink far too much red wine.’
Marie: ‘I am forty-nine, going on fifty, My hair is getting thin. I’ve turned out frumpy and I feel dumpy, Oh let’s have another gin.’
Anna and Marie slowed their pace and scanned the audience slowly: ‘You may think this kind of misfortune, Never may come to you. Darling forties going on fifty, Wait a year … Just wait a year … Just wait a year … Or two.’
Everyone clapped and stamped their feet, then Anna looked over at me. ‘Speech, speech.’
Everyone joined in clamouring. ‘Speech, speech.’
As I made my way to the front, I heard my phone beep that I had a text. I glanced down. Daniel. Maybe he’d arrived or was getting near and was letting me know. I knew it would be rude to check the message at that moment, so I tucked the phone into my gold bra and took the microphone. At the bar, I spotted Michael Harris again. He raised his glass. I looked around the room, so many faces smiling back at me, good friends, but I felt sad that there was no Daniel there to share it all with.
‘Anna, Marie,’ I said. ‘How can I follow that? You’re both clearly mad but I’m touched, genuinely. Turning fifty is a landmark, but a good one, so here’s to the next fifty years. Thanks for coming, especially those who have travelled from far. Um. Enjoy the rest of the evening.’ I held up my glass. ‘Cheers.’
‘Cheers,’ everyone echoed then, led by Anna, sang ‘Happy Birthday dear Dee’.
When they’d finished, at last, I could get away and read my text. I manoeuvred my way through the crowd and towards the Ladies, so I could read it in peace, but Michael Harris appeared at my side.
‘Happy Birthday Dee,’ he said.
‘Thanks er …’ I was desperate to get away and read my text. I gestured to the room. ‘Sorry not to talk much.’
‘I won’t take it personally,’ he said with a smile. ‘One can never get round everyone at an occasion like this. A great turn-out, wonderful testimony to you, the song, so many friends.’
/> ‘Yes, though a few couldn’t make it.’ One couldn’t make it, I thought.
‘I also … I wanted to say, about that letter from my brother, William, back in the New Year, I apologize. He has no patience. It was against my wishes. I wanted you to know that but I can’t tell him what to do.’
He was being kind and, though every part of me wanted to rush off, I didn’t want to appear rude. ‘Don’t worry. I won’t hold you responsible. I have sisters and learnt long ago to distance myself from some of their comments and actions.’
He seemed relieved. ‘I’m not sorry for the way things are working out, though. You belong here. Anyone can see that. Not just in Summer Lane, but the area.’
‘I hear that you’ve been here a bit yourself.’
‘I’m drawn to the place.’ Was I imagining it, or was that sentence loaded with meaning? Did he mean drawn to me? I can’t deal with this now, I thought. ‘I’ve been looking at houses down here for my retirement—’
‘And you need funds from the sale of Summer Lane?’
‘No, not immediately, it isn’t that. William’s circumstances however are different to my own. Truth be told, that’s why he’s been putting the pressure on but I’ve managed to get him to back off. He can wait—’
‘Good, that’s great,’ I interrupted. ‘Let’s catch up another time. Got to go, there’s someone I have to talk to before they leave.’
He looked disappointed. ‘OK. Course. I shouldn’t monopolize the hostess. You go. Enjoy the rest of your evening.’
‘Thanks. I will.’ I turned and made my way through the crowd to the Ladies cloakroom, into an empty cubicle and, at last, checked my messages.
Darling Dee, Happy Birthday. So very sorry I can’t be with you. Something came up. Will explain when we talk. Forgive me. Love you, Daniel. X
The Kicking the Bucket List Page 19