The Good Mother

by Sinéad Moriarty

  ‘Your mother has enough going on, Bobby,’ Granddad said. ‘You need to be helpful and leave her in peace.’

  ‘You can tell me your facts,’ Luke said.

  ‘You’re always in your room with your earphones in or on the phone to Piper or else training or studying or helping Granddad in the café. I’ve no one to talk to now Jess is stuck in here with stinky cancer.’

  ‘Tell me something now. I’m listening,’ Jess said.

  Bobby went over and stood beside her. ‘Well, in 2013 Belgium had 1,714 robberies for every one hundred thousand people, so it’s a good thing we don’t live there.’

  ‘Yes, it is.’ Jess smiled at him.

  ‘I always knew that the Belgians were a strange people.’ Nathalie walked in, holding a book.

  Damn. Jess had wanted her to come when everyone else was gone.

  ‘I brought you a book of poems.’

  ‘Cheerful ones, I hope,’ Granddad muttered.

  ‘Yes, George. They are poems of love. When Jess is sitting ’ere she can look out of the window at the blue sky and read a beautiful poem about love and it will make her less … How you say? Sorrowful.’

  ‘She’s not sorrowful, she’s fine,’ Luke insisted.

  Nathalie rolled her eyes. ‘She ’as cancer. Of course she is sorrowful. Everybody is a bit sorrowful. It’s part of the ’uman nature.’

  She was right. Jess did feel sorrowful, very sorrowful. But, most of all, she was tired and frightened.

  ‘Bullshit,’ Luke said. ‘Not everyone is sorrowful. I’m not, Granddad isn’t, Bobby isn’t.’

  ‘I am, actually,’ Bobby said. ‘And you are too, Luke. I heard you crying in your room last night and Granddad pretends to blow his nose all the time but he’s really crying into his hanky.’

  Luke and Granddad glared at him.

  Nathalie patted Bobby’s head. ‘It’s okay. It’s normal. Why do men always pretend everything is fine? Of course you are worried about Jess. You love ’er and you want ’er to be well. It’s good to cry. It’s bad to block the emotions.’

  ‘Mrs Lorgan said I need to control mine,’ Bobby said. ‘She said I have waaaaaay too much anger inside. She said I should ask Mummy to take me to kickboxing or karate so I can channel it.’

  ‘Mrs Lorgan needs to keep her opinions to herself,’ Granddad muttered.

  ‘Tell ’er she is wrong,’ Nathalie told Bobby. ‘It is very important to let the emotions out. If you want to scream, scream. Cry? Cry. Be depressed? Be depressed. Always ’aving the ’appy face like a clown is ridiculous. Nobody is ’appy all the time.’

  Granddad got up from the chair beside Jess’s bed. ‘Well, thank you, Nathalie. It’s always fascinating hearing your cheerful thoughts on life.’ He raised an eyebrow at Jess, who grinned. ‘However, I think that’s enough French philosophy for one evening. Jess needs her rest.’

  He bent down and hugged her, careful not to squeeze the port. ‘Best of luck tomorrow. I’ll be praying for you, my little pet.’

  Then Luke hugged her. ‘Hang in there, sis, you’re going to be fine. Love ya.’

  Bobby reached up. ‘I love you, Jess. Come home soon.’

  Jess tried really hard not to cry. She wanted to cling to them all. She wanted to tell them how scared she was, but she didn’t. She put a clown smile on her face and pretended she was stronger than she was.

  As they turned to leave, Nathalie sat down beside her.

  ‘Come on, Nathalie, out you come,’ Granddad said.

  ‘I will stay a little bit longer.’

  ‘No, you won’t.’ Granddad made his way over to her.

  ‘It’s okay, Granddad. I want her to stay,’ Jess said.

  ‘Are you sure? She’s not known for making people feel better, ever.’

  Jess smiled, a real smile. ‘Let her stay five minutes.’

  Granddad didn’t look happy about leaving Nathalie with her but, thankfully, he didn’t argue and the boys all left.

  As soon as they were out of sight, Jess turned to Nathalie. ‘Well, did you Google it?’

  Nathalie hesitated. ‘Yes. Are you sure you want to know this?’

  Jess sighed. ‘Yes. Everyone’s blocking me from getting information, but that’s freaking me out. The doctors have tried to explain it to me. They said that AML is where too many immature white blood cells are made. The cells are not right and can’t grow into normal white blood cells. So the chemotherapy I have to have is to kill the leukaemia cells and allow normal blood cells to come back. I think that’s what they said anyway, but my head hurts and I find it really hard to concentrate. But I want to know more. I want to know what the percentage chance is of me getting better. Not knowing is making me think the worst.’

  Nathalie fished around in her handbag and pulled out a sheet of paper. ‘Okay. So I look up the cancer websites for AML. It says … “As with many cancers, the AML leukaemia survival rate has increased in the last decades due to advances in medical knowledge and technology. The general survival rate for children under fifteen years of age is sixty point nine per cent” – so it’s good news, basically you have a sixty-one per cent chance to be better.’

  Jess gripped Whiskey’s soft paw tighter. Her heart was pounding. Sixty-one per cent. It was closer to fifty than one hundred. Oh, my God, I could die. I really could die. Why had she asked Nathalie to look it up? She shouldn’t have. Mum was right: she was better off not knowing. She began to cry.

  Nathalie took Jess’s hand in hers. ‘Jess, you could die in a car crash. You could get ’it by the lightning. No one knows what is in the future. You at least understand what is wrong with your body and you ’ave the best doctors looking after you. You will get the strong medicine tomorrow and you will be well again. You will fight the cancer because you are a brave girl with a beautiful spirit. You are lucky because you ’ave a family who love you very much.’

  Nathalie handed Jess a tissue to wipe her tears. It was the first time Jess had really broken down in front of someone. She sobbed and let all her fears and worries out. For some reason, she didn’t mind crying in front of Nathalie. She knew Nathalie wouldn’t try to cheer her up or distract her with silly stories. Nathalie was comfortable around sorrow so it wasn’t awkward to be upset in front of her.

  Nathalie dabbed Jess’s left cheek with a tissue. ‘My mother loves ’er stupid dog more than me and my father is only interested in ’is son, who is only seven but is an incredible player of the violin. So even though you ’ave the bad luck with the cancer, you ’ave the good luck with the family.’

  ‘What about your grandparents?’ Jess asked.

  ‘Dead.’

  ‘Sorry.’

  Nathalie shrugged. ‘This is life. Sometimes it ees sheet.’

  Yes, Jess thought, sometimes it is ‘sheet’. She cuddled into Whiskey’s soft comforting face, closed her eyes and, before Nathalie had even left the room, she was fast asleep.

  14

  Piper watched in silence as Luke added more weights to the bar bell. He lay back on the bench, took a deep breath, lifted it and pushed upwards with his arms. His whole body trembled. His eyes seemed about to pop out of their sockets.

  Piper tried not to say anything. She knew he needed this. He needed to hurt physically because it distracted him from his emotional pain. He let the bar down and pushed up again. His arms shook violently and sweat dripped down his face. He gritted his teeth and kept going.

  Piper put her hand on her stomach. How could she tell Luke about the baby now? Ever since he’d called her, crying about Jess, she’d known that her news would have to wait. But for how long? She couldn’t bear to add to Luke’s stress, but the doctor said she was about six weeks gone. She’d have to hold off for as long as possible: she couldn’t land this bombshell on the poor family – they had enough to deal with at the moment. No one knew that when Piper cried about Jess she was also crying about the baby.

  Luke’s whole body shook.

  ‘Stop, Luke. Please stop. You’re pus
hing yourself too hard.’

  Luke put the bar back on the stand and gulped to catch his breath.

  ‘You’ll hurt yourself,’ Piper added.

  Luke wiped his face with a towel. ‘Every time I close my eyes I see the word “cancer”,’ he said, in a strangled voice.

  Piper leant down and held him tightly. ‘It’s just awful, babe. I wish I could do or say something to make you feel better.’

  ‘Will you come with me to visit her today?’ Luke asked. ‘I want to give Mum a couple of hours off. She’s not sleeping at all in the hospital and she’s wrecked.’

  ‘Of course. I’d love to,’ Piper said, glad to be able to help in any way.

  They walked into Jess’s room and her bed was empty. Luke was just going out to ask a nurse where she was when Piper caught his arm. She pointed at the bathroom door and then at her own ear, indicating he was to listen. They both went still. They could hear someone crying behind the door.

  Luke went over and knocked lightly. They heard Jess putting on the taps to drown her crying. Luke kept knocking. ‘Jess, it’s me, Luke. Open up.’

  ‘Go away. I need some privacy.’

  ‘No. Open the door.’

  ‘Please, Luke, go away.’

  ‘I’ll break the door down if you don’t open it.’ Luke’s hand was trembling. Piper laid a hand on his arm and whispered, ‘Go easy.’ Then, ‘Jess, sweetie, it’s Piper. Can you let us in? We just want to say hi and see that you’re okay. I know chemo is awful and you must be so upset and feeling terrible, but can you please open the door just for one second so we can say hello?’

  They heard the lock click and Luke pushed the door open. Jess was sitting on the side of the bath, staring at the floor. Her left hand was covering the side of her head. Long strands of brown hair lay on the bathroom floor.

  ‘Oh, Jesus,’ Luke said.

  Jess’s tear-stained face turned to them. ‘Yeah, that’s exactly how I feel.’

  Piper went over and put her arm around her. ‘Oh, Jess, this really sucks.’

  ‘I knew that your hair fell out after chemo, but I didn’t think it would happen so soon,’ Jess sobbed. ‘I went to brush my hair and big lumps fell out.’

  Piper held her tight. She didn’t know what to say. How do you console a twelve-year-old girl when she’s going bald? What were the ‘appropriate’ words of comfort? I’m sorry about the hair loss. Bald can be cool. I’ll buy you a great hat. Piper scrambled around for the right thing to say.

  ‘This shouldn’t be happening. It’s just not fair,’ Luke raged.

  Jess gulped back tears. ‘I know, but it has happened. It’s real, Luke. It feels really real now. I’m going to be a bald freak.’

  ‘No. You’ll –’ Luke was at a loss for words to comfort his sister.

  Piper knew she had to take control. Jess needed help, practical help. ‘Right. We need to give you a haircut and get you some cool headgear or maybe a wig, whatever looks best. We’ll look up some websites when I’ve sorted out your hair.’

  Luke’s hand squeezed her shoulder. She patted it.

  ‘Luke, you need to go to the nurse and ask for an electric head-shaver – someone around here has to have one. Half the kids in this unit are bald.’

  Piper got Jess onto her feet and turned her away from the mirror. ‘I’m going to use these scissors,’ she pointed at the nail scissors in Jess’s washbag, ‘to cut your hair short so it’ll be easier to shave. All right? It’s best if you look at me and not in the mirror so you don’t get too freaked out. The good news is that your hair will grow back thicker and stronger, so don’t worry.’

  Piper turned her back to them to pick up the nail scissors. Her hands were shaking, and she didn’t want Jess to see how nervous she was.

  Luke rushed off to find a head-shaver, and by the time he returned, Piper had hacked off most of Jess’s hair. Piper was glad Jess couldn’t see herself in the mirror. Despite her best efforts, Jess’s hair was short and uneven – awful. She looked so young and helpless and … well … sick.

  ‘Right.’ Piper turned to Luke. ‘You can do the shaving. I’ve no idea how to use those.’ Piper couldn’t do the shaving: there was a limit. She felt sick about cutting Jess’s hair off – there was no way she could shave off the rest. Besides, her morning sickness was bad today and she was afraid she might throw up.

  Luke stared at her. ‘What?’

  ‘You’ve used those on your own hair so you know what to do. If Jess’s hair is gone, it can’t upset her by falling out.’ Piper was using a bright voice, but her eyes were filling with tears. She was upset, exhausted and feeling sick. It was all too much. ‘Come on, Luke,’ she pleaded.

  He nodded. ‘Don’t blame me if it isn’t perfect, sis.’

  Piper held Jess’s hand while Luke gently shaved his sister’s head. Piper dug her nails into her leg to stop herself crying as the last strands of Jess’s hair floated to the floor. Seeing the girl’s bare scalp made her want to weep.

  ‘It looks kind of cool, very edgy. Very kick-ass-girl.’ Piper was determined to make Jess feel better.

  ‘No one’s going to mess with you now, sis.’ Luke tried to sound cheerful.

  ‘Can I see?’ Jess asked.

  Piper hesitated. ‘Are you sure you’re ready? It’s a big change. Maybe take a minute.’

  Jess inhaled, but as she was about to turn around, Luke shouted, ‘Stop. Hold on.’

  Without thinking, he took the shaver and ran it over his hair.

  ‘What are you doing?’ Jess was shocked. ‘You’ve spent ages growing your hair long on top.’

  Luke kept going. He quickly finished off and put the head-shaver down. Piper’s heart swelled with pride. This was the guy she loved. Her Luke. The kind of person who would shave his head for his sister. He wouldn’t let her down either: he wouldn’t run away when he found out she was pregnant. It was going to be fine. All three of them were now crying and smiling.

  Piper clapped her hands. ‘You both look amazing.’

  Jess slid her small hand into Luke’s big one. ‘Thanks, Lukey,’ she said.

  ‘We’re in this together.’ His voice quivered.

  ‘I’m not so scared to look now,’ Jess said.

  Piper nodded. ‘One, two, three …’

  Luke held his sister’s hand tightly as they turned to the mirror.

  Piper heard the little ‘Oh’ that fell out of Jess’s mouth. Her lip trembled as she took in her bald head.

  Luke put his arm around his sister’s shoulders. ‘We’re two bad-asses now. You and me against the world.’

  Jess gave him a watery smile. ‘Yeah.’

  Piper came over and threw her arms around them both. ‘You guys are amazing. None of my sisters would ever shave their heads for me. The twins would probably scoop up my hair and make extensions for themselves out of it.’

  Jess giggled, and Luke whispered, ‘I love you,’ into Piper’s neck. She felt her legs shake. Would he love her when she told him about the baby?

  15

  Kate finished the chapter and looked at Jess’s drooping eyelids. ‘Time for you to sleep now,’ she said, kissing her cheek.

  ‘I don’t want to, Mum. I want to enjoy every second of being home. It’s so good to be back. The last few weeks have felt like a year.’

  ‘I know, pet, and you’ve been so brave and wonderful.’

  ‘I don’t want to go back for more,’ Jess said, and Kate felt her shaking. ‘I hate the chemo.’

  ‘Jess, I know you do, and it’s just horrible, but it’s going to kill the cancer so in a way it’s a good thing, even though I know it’s rotten for you. I hate seeing you so unwell, pet.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Mum,’ Jess whispered.

  ‘For what?’

  ‘For being sick. I know it’s terrible for you and I promise to try my best to get better quickly.’

  Kate couldn’t even pretend not to cry. She hugged Jess to her and sobbed. ‘None of this is your fault. It’s just awful luck,
but we’re all going to help you get better. Don’t ever apologize again. You’re the best thing that ever happened to me, the light of my life. I’m so sorry this has happened to you, but I will do everything in my power to help you.’

  Jess nodded into Kate’s shoulder. Kate gently laid her back on the pillow and kissed her sweet face. ‘Love you, Jess.’

  ‘Love you, Mum.’

  ‘Sleep now, pet. It’ll help.’

  Jess turned her head, pulled Whiskey close and shut her eyes. Within minutes she was sound asleep.

  The first round of chemo had made her very ill. She could barely hold down any food and was weak and exhausted. Kate hated seeing her like that. To feel so helpless was torture. All she could do was tilt the bowl for Jess to vomit into and hold her when she cried. They knew she’d be allowed home after the first round, and that had been some tiny consolation, but chemo took so much out of Jess, and Kate admired her daughter’s stamina in getting through each day.

  Kate kept asking questions, but although the haematologists and nurses were kind and caring, they wouldn’t give false hope. They kept saying they had to wait and see if the chemo was working. It was all about waiting … waiting for test results, waiting for treatment to work, waiting for information. Kate hated the waiting.

  She went over to her laptop and started Googling. After an hour her eyes were throbbing and her heart was pounding from information overload. The internet was a blessing and a curse. She’d always thought ‘information is power’, but it wasn’t. Sometimes you were better off not knowing what was coming down the line. Sometimes ignorance was bliss. And yet she found herself Googling every single symptom and test result Jess had received, and it often led to frightening outcomes and stories.

  She glanced at Jess, who was still asleep. She looked so peaceful when she slept. The worried frown she’d developed between her eyebrows was smooth and her frightened eyes were closed.

  It was wonderful to have her home for two weeks before she had more chemo. Jess was so tired that she slept most of the time, but Kate could see that being at home was cheering her up. She had put Jess into her double bed with her so she could keep an eye on her. She also liked to hold her at night, imagining that if she put her arms around her she could hug away the cancer. She could protect her daughter with her magical mother’s love. If only …