‘Morning,’ said Fleur when she reached the area where I was sitting on a bench. ‘Have you seen this?’ She handed me a newspaper. The man behind the desk glanced up then stared, as men always did when Fleur made an entrance. I felt like a bag lady in comparison; my clothes were crumpled and my hair uncombed. I groaned and shook my head as I scanned the headings in the paper. ‘No.’
‘Not on the front page. Third. I marked it for you.’
‘Do they mention Rose by name?’
‘I’m afraid so.’
I sighed. ‘What about us?’
‘No and, thankfully, no photos. I bought all the papers first thing and have been through them. The story’s only made this one. Have a read and I’ll go and get us some coffees. Any sign of Rose’s solicitor yet?’
I was surprised that Fleur was even speaking to me, never mind offering to buy drinks. I was torn. Part of me wanted to refuse coffee; I wanted Fleur to know she couldn’t get round me that easily. I felt so hurt; I wanted to turn away and never speak to or see her again, and had expected her to feel the same – both of us in a sulky silence like when we were teenagers and angry with each other. But we were in this together. Fleur, Rose and me. Plus I was gasping for a drink, and a caffeine hit might make me feel more ready to face the day. ‘No to any sign of the solicitor yet, and the police won’t tell me anything. They just said to wait,’ I replied. ‘Yes to coffee.’
‘Back in a jiffy,’ said Fleur. She turned around and headed back out through the station door, leaving me to read the article in The Chronicle.
ASSAULT AT PEACE CONFERENCE
Swami Muktanand (87) spiritual leader, announced his retirement from public life and teaching at a press conference held by the Heaven on Earth cult yesterday. He later boarded a flight back to India where he intends to retire to a remote part of the Himalayas.
Two of his followers were involved in a fracas at the London hotel where the conference was held. Daniel Scott (50) was assaulted by attendee and publishing executive, Rose Edwards (52), in the hotel grounds. A witness claimed to hear her threaten to kill him. He was later taken to Rathbone Hospital where his condition is said to be critical. Mrs Edwards was seen to be distraught when arrested. She is currently being held pending enquiries.
I put the paper aside. What a joke. If the situation had been different, I might have laughed. Heaven on Earth wasn’t a cult, it was a centre where people went to meditate, and Rose was not one to assault anyone – not normally.
‘So what now?’ asked Fleur when she returned ten minutes later with cappuccinos.
I crossed my arms and legs in the hope that my body language might convey the fact that I wasn’t letting her back in and was still angry with her. ‘We wait,’ I said. ‘Any news on how Daniel’s doing?’
‘Still out for the count,’ said Fleur. ‘I’ve a mind to go to the hospital and put a pillow over his face if he wakes up.’
I shushed her and glanced at the policeman behind the desk, who was still checking Fleur out when he could. ‘Remember where you are, you idiot. I know you’re not serious, but they might not.’
‘Who says I’m not serious?’ said Fleur. ‘I should have trusted my first instinct and had nothing to do with the creep. I’m so—’
The conversation was cut short by the appearance of Rose’s solicitor.
‘I blame Mum,’ I said as I got up to greet him. ‘If it wasn’t for that stupid condition in her will, none of us would be in this mess.’
‘Have you seen her? Is she OK? What’s happening?’ asked Fleur.
‘She’s not here,’ he said. ‘Her husband asked me to give you these.’ He produced two envelopes which he handed to Fleur and me.
‘But is she all right?’ I asked.
‘Mr Edwards just instructed me to give you the letters,’ he said, ‘and to say you can call him when you’ve read them.’
He didn’t hang around so I sat down, ripped open my envelope and began to read.
‘Dearest Dee,
‘So many secrets, so many lies, and you must still be wondering what I was holding back from you. Truth is, I have cancer.’ I heard Fleur gasp beside me as she read her copy.
I found out the day of the reading of Mum’s will. That’s why I had to dash off. I didn’t tell you then because I didn’t know then what the prognosis was. It wasn’t good. A grade IV cancer. Incurable. How did I manage to keep it a secret, you might be thinking? Cancer’s a peculiar thing. You can feel well for a long time before you go downhill, but it has caught up with me and I will no longer be able to carry on as I did.
I had hormone treatment for three months, then when that failed to work, three months of chemotherapy, which did seem to work, then a further three months, which didn’t.
Then came my options. To go back to a hormone treatment, which has fewer side effects than the chemotherapy, or to continue with a different kind of chemo. I feel like King Canute, trying to stop the ocean, and have grown tired. For the last few months, I have been on hormone therapy again, but with my prognosis, it is limited in what it can do. So I have made my decision and have stopped all treatment.
I want my last days to be at home. The Macmillan nurses can do that for me. I’ve had enough of being prodded, scanned and poked. I want to be at home with my loved ones, in my own bed with my own pillows. You know what I’m like Dee …
And Daniel? What was he in all of this? Not so bad. Not what you thought. I bumped into him one afternoon at the solicitors. I found him easy to talk to. Someone independent of friends and family. He helped me accept what was happening. With his swami, he has helped me find some peace of mind, and for that I am grateful. I honestly had no idea that he was seeing both of you and had formed relationships with you. When I heard that, I felt rage, because love is a precious and delicate thing and I felt he abused his position and Mum’s trust as well as ours. I didn’t mean to hurt him, though, and pray he makes a recovery.
I am sorry I lied to you – or not so much lied as didn’t tell the truth. I hope you understand. When I first heard about my illness, I chose not to tell you because what could you say? What could you do? Nothing. It was hard enough telling Hugh, Simon and Laura and dealing with their reactions. I wanted the time with you and Mum to be as normal as it could be. Ha! That’s a joke. Mum’s kicking the bucket list was mad from the start, but hey, we did have some good times, didn’t we? I pray you’ll forgive me for not having told you. Despite our differences, I do care for you both. As Mum did, I want you to be happy. I was going to tell you both yesterday, but when I realized what Daniel had been doing, I felt so helpless and hopeless and angry with him and that took over.
Yes, there’s a part of me that’s afraid, of course there is, but another part that now has this heightened sense of appreciation. It has made me more mindful, which is why I liked that session with Andrew. Ever since I had my diagnosis, perhaps because I know I will be leaving soon, I see so much beauty in the world: children playing, a careworn face in a queue at a supermarket, a flower, a sky, an expression in Hugh’s eyes. This world is beautiful. At times, I have been filled with love, inexplicable and dazzling. We live on earth, this jewel in deep space, it’s incredible. The human body is amazing, and before I was always rushing so fast, I never saw it. I never experienced my life, not really; I was always thinking what I had to do next.
At other times, my fears overwhelm me, but the meditation has helped. Inside all of us – yes, even me – there is a place of peace that is always there, always still, regardless of the circumstances, and the swami helped me to find it. I have also learnt that the most important thing in this world is love. Love of friends or family.
I wish you both the very best, take time to stop and appreciate what you have and where you are, like that poet, W.H.Davies said, “A poor life this if, full of care, We have no time to stand and stare.” So make sure you do.
Hugh will fill you in on the rest later,
With love, your sister,
Ros
e X
I looked over at Fleur. She was pale, her expression so sad. ‘I …’ I was speechless, numb with shock and distress.
‘How could I have got it so wrong?’ Fleur asked.
‘We got it so wrong, not just you.’
‘I had no idea.’
‘Me neither.’
‘Christ. Poor Rose.’ Fleur moved over, put her arm around me and I turned and hugged her. We were both in tears.
‘And her poor family,’ I said.
We sat for a few minutes in silence, both trying to take in the enormity of what was happening.
It was Fleur who spoke first. ‘Dee, I am so so sorry about everything.’
‘Me too, but I can’t bear to think what she’s been going through and I never knew. I just thought the worst, that she was just being Rose – secretive, manipulative—’
‘We think we know, don’t we? We think we know about other people’s lives, what’s going on with them, but we don’t.’
I got out my phone and called Rose’s number. Hugh picked up.
‘What can we do?’ I asked.
‘You’ve read the letters then?’
‘We have. I’m so sorry, Hugh. How is she?’
‘Not doing great today. Yesterday was too much for her. An ambulance took her from the station early morning, took her to a hospice. Simon’s with her. We’re doing everything we can to get her home.’
‘Can we go to her?’
‘Not yet. We need to get her settled, ask what she wants. She wanted you to have the letters in case …’ He took a sharp intake of breath. ‘We don’t know how long she will have now. Weeks? Months? I’ll be in touch. I promise.’
30
Dee
Sunday 14 August, 10 a.m.
I called the hospital as soon as we got out of the police station.
‘I’m calling about Daniel Scott,’ I said as Fleur and I headed towards a taxi rank on the main road. ‘He was admitted yesterday with head injuries. Is there news?’
‘What’s your relationship to the patient?’ asked a male voice at the other end of the phone.
What could I say? Lover? Not any more. Sister of the woman who put him in there? Probably not. ‘Friend.’
‘I’m sorry, but we can only disclose information to close relatives.’
‘We could lie,’ said Fleur, when she saw me shut off my phone then shake my head.
‘I think we’ve had enough of lies, haven’t we?’
‘Yes, course.’ She looked as fed up as I was. ‘What shall we do now?’
I had no idea. We were standing at the taxi rank and it was a grey, damp morning. I didn’t know where to go. The thought of returning to Cornwall felt wrong. I wanted to be on hand in case there was any news.
A taxi drove up and the driver wound down his window. ‘Where to, ladies?’
Fleur looked at me. ‘Sloane Street,’ she said, and opened the back door for me. I climbed in.
‘Come home with me,’ said Fleur. ‘We’ll take it from there.’
I hadn’t the energy to argue with her. I felt empty, stunned, sad and bewildered. I didn’t know who to be worried about most: Daniel, in case his injuries were life threatening, or Rose, whose illness was. Rose. Of course Rose. There had been too many emotions, too many revelations in the space of hours, I couldn’t think straight. Daniel and his lies. I’d thought he was the love of my life. Or had I really? Lately I’d felt duplicitous, lying to my sisters and not able to properly communicate with him. That was no real ground for a lasting relationship, and now I knew that I couldn’t trust him either – though to his credit, he had kept Rose’s secret for her. Now he was lying somewhere in a hospital and I couldn’t go to him, didn’t even know if he’d want me there. Fleur and Daniel. Although I’d had my suspicions, it came as a shock all the same, and though Fleur kept telling me it meant nothing, to me it did. It belittled what I thought I’d had with him. But it all faded into insignificance now that I knew about Rose. Incurable, she’d said in her letter. I kept repeating the facts in my head but still couldn’t take it all in.
Fleur leant over and put her hand on mine. ‘Dee, I’m so sorry about everything. I know, too much at the moment, but we’ll talk, when you’re ready.’
Rose is her sister too, I thought. And she was lied to by Daniel as well as lied to by me. ‘Do not judge or you too will be judged’: that was Mum’s last text. I moved my hand so I was holding hers. She squeezed it and we rode the rest of the way in silence.
*
Back at Fleur’s flat, she made coffee, ran me a bath, added scented oil, put heated towels on the rail and steered me towards the bed as though I was a sick patient.
‘Rest,’ she said. ‘I’ll let you know if there’s any news.’
‘And you? Are you OK?’ I asked.
She shrugged. ‘I’ll be fine.’
After a bath, I called Anna and told her all that had happened.
‘Jesus Dee,’ she said, ‘I’m so sorry about Rose.’
‘Me too, it’s too sad.’
‘And that bastard Daniel – but, like you, I wouldn’t wish him permanent damage. What a lot to go through. Are you going to be all right?’
‘What I feel is unimportant next to what Rose must be going through. I’ll survive. You know me.’
‘What can I do to help? Shall I come up?’
‘Thanks, but Fleur’s here. Just keep looking after my cats and that will be enough. I’ll call you when there’s more news.’
‘OK, but just don’t close up again. Daniel’s just one man. Not all men are like him. Let me know how he is, will you?’
When I’d finished the call, I knelt by the bed and joined my palms together to pray. ‘Dear God, please help. I know I’ve talked to you before but this time, I’m serious, and not just doing it because my mother asked. This prayer is from me. Please let Rose be OK and please let Daniel make a recovery. Thank you.’
I sat on the bed and eventually lay back and fell into a fitful sleep. I’d hardly slept last night because I’d booked into a noisy and uncomfortable hotel near the police station in Kensington so that I could be near for the morning.
*
After a few hours, I woke to the sound of a phone ringing in the flat. I scrambled into a dressing gown and strained to hear Fleur’s muffled voice as I went to find her. I felt adrenalin flood through me when I found her in the living room and listened as she took the call.
‘Daniel?’ I asked when she’d finished.
She nodded. ‘That was Hugh. He called the police and they’ve heard that Daniel is sitting up and is fine. They’re keeping him in the hospital in case of concussion. He told the police that he won’t be pressing charges.’
I sat heavily on the nearby sofa. ‘Oh thank God. Thank God for him and thank God for Rose. She didn’t need to be dealing with a prosecution on top of everything else.’
‘And Daniel knew that,’ said Fleur.
‘What about Rose?’
‘Hughie said that she’d like to see us. Not today. They’re still getting her settled at home. He gave us a message from her. She said, “Go to the garden.”’
‘Garden?’
‘Go to the garden, finish the list.’
For a moment, I didn’t know what she was talking about, then it clicked – the kicking the bucket list. Today’s task was to go and look at flowers in a garden, the last thing I felt like doing. I felt like curling up under the duvet and never coming out. I looked at my watch. It was only two o’clock. We had time.
‘She’s still telling us what to do, so that can only be a good sign,’ said Fleur. ‘So come on. Let’s go and hug a tree.’
*
The clouds had cleared and, outside, the sky was blue. Fleur and I spent the afternoon at Kew Gardens sitting in the sunshine, looking at flowerbeds and talking. And boy, did we talk. I told her all about Daniel, when and how it had started, what I’d felt, how it had been, and she held me at one point when I broke down. She didn’t expa
nd on her relationship with him.
‘Not because I’m holding back, but because it was just supposed to be a bit of fun, and when it wasn’t that any more, I ended it. There didn’t seem to be any point in continuing. Even though I didn’t think it was going to come to anything with you and him, I still knew you liked him, and I didn’t want anything to get in the way of you and me becoming friends again. My relationship with you matters much more.’
It hurt to hear her say her piece, but I understood. She hadn’t known about Daniel and me and that was my fault as much as his. ‘I’m sorry too,’ I said as we headed back to the car park. ‘I should have told you and Rose about Daniel. If I had, none of this would have happened.’
‘You mustn’t blame yourself and it’s not over yet,’ said Fleur. ‘Nothing’s ever over till it’s over.’
My love affair with Daniel is over and it’s over for Rose, I thought. ‘I feel as though I’m floating in a dream where anything could happen.’
‘I know what you mean,’ said Fleur as she started up the engine. ‘Eat your heart out, Alice in Wonderland.’
‘Not quite turned out as Mum intended I don’t think, do you?’
‘Nothing ever does,’ Fleur replied as she headed the car out of the car park and towards the main road. ‘At least we’re all together in our own dysfunctional way. I think she intended that.’
*
In the evening, Fleur found us a bottle of wine and we sat together on the sofa and watched the DVD that Mum had chosen for us. It was about courting rituals in nature, and I watched in awe as a puffer fish made a crop circle, a hundred times its size, resembling a sun mandala, thirteen metres under the seas in Southern Japan. It had perfect dimensions and symmetry and was to lure the female in and provide a place with soft sand for her to lay her eggs.
‘Least we don’t have to try that hard,’ said Fleur.
‘Speak for yourself,’ I replied.
A male spider came on screen next, doing a tango-style dance to catch his mate. He blew out a huge bubble of stunning beauty, colour and pattern above him.
‘Mardi Gras insect style,’ said Fleur.
The Kicking the Bucket List Page 28