by Pamela Evans
‘Hello there, Giles.’
‘Hi,’ he said indifferently.
‘I’ve plenty of apples if you’d like some?’
‘Oh.’ He had a grey, preoccupied look about him and didn’t sound in the least bit interested in what she had to say. ‘Thanks . . . er, it’s kind of you to offer but I can’t stop at the moment.’
‘Kevin really loves them.’
‘Yes.’ He scratched his head, seeming distant and anxious to get away. ‘I’ll see you about it another time, if you don’t mind?’
‘Can you spare a minute to answer a question . . . please, Giles?’ she said boldly.
‘Some other time,’ he said. ‘I have to collect some books, then go straight on to school. I’ve had a lot of time off lately.’
Biting back tears at yet another rejection, Jane blurted out, ‘Please tell me what I’ve done to upset you and Lena? Surely I deserve that much?’
‘Upset us . . . you?’ He looked baffled. ‘You haven’t upset us.’
‘Oh? Then why am I being given the cold shoulder? If I’ve unintentionally done something to offend either of you, I’d like the opportunity to put things right.’
He clasped his head in both hands and, to her amazement, she saw tears in his eyes.
‘Oh, Jane,’ he said with feeling. ‘It isn’t you . . . not you at all.’
‘No?’
‘Absolutely not.’
‘Why then?’
‘We’ve been so wrapped up in our own troubles . . . neither of us realised how much we’ve been neglecting you.’
‘Troubles?’
‘Yes.’
‘Giles, I know you’re in a hurry but you look as though you could do with a coffee,’ she said, perceiving his distress.
He looked at his watch.
‘I suppose another half hour won’t make much difference, ’ he said, and made his way into her garden through the gap in the fence they all used as a short cut.
‘We should have told you what was going on,’ Giles said, his hand trembling slightly when she handed him a cup of coffee. ‘But we’ve had the most ghastly shock and neither of us has felt like talking to anyone except each other. It’s even been an effort putting up a front for Kevin.’
With fear in her heart, she waited for him to continue. ‘I can see now that we must have seemed offhand,’ he said. ‘I’m so sorry about that, Jane. But . . . well, the truth is, Lena and I have been locked in a world of our own.’
‘Why, Giles? What’s the matter?’
He didn’t seem able to reply. His face was grey with tension, his eyes bloodshot and deeply shadowed as though he hadn’t been sleeping. It was the first time Jane had been this close to him for weeks and she hadn’t realised just how much his physical appearance had altered.
‘Are you ill, Giles?’
‘No.’ His voice was tight, lips dry and pale. ‘I’m not. But Lena is.’
He was sitting in an armchair in Jane’s living room. She stood nearby, dry-mouthed and terrified of what he was about to tell her.
‘She has a tumour on the brain,’ he managed to utter at last. ‘They say she has two months . . . maybe less . . . three at the most.’
It was as though he had slammed his fist into Jane’s face. Her legs almost gave way and she wanted to be sick. But she knew she must control herself for his sake.
‘Oh, Giles. I don’t know what to say.’
‘There isn’t anything to say ...’
An awkward silence hung between them. Jane searched her mind for the right thing to say or do and knew there wasn’t one.
‘How is Lena?’ she said, hearing her words ring with foolishness. ‘A silly question . . . I mean, how is she bearing up?’
‘Not so good at the moment.’
‘Oh, dear.’
‘I’ve just taken her to the hospital for treatment,’ he explained. ‘I’ll collect her later on, after school. We’ve been to and from the hospital all the time this last few weeks, that’s why I’ve been home at odd times.’
‘She doesn’t actually have to stay in hospital then?’
‘Not now. She has been in for a spell but she’s an out patient at the moment. She wants to stay at home as long as she can.’
‘That’s understandable.’
He raked his hair back from his brow with his fingers, shaking his head in disbelief.
‘Who would have thought this could happen? Just a few months ago we were planning the future . . . now there isn’t one.’
‘It does seem so terribly sudden.’
‘She’d been having bad headaches but we weren’t worried at first . . . I mean, everyone gets headaches from time to time.’
‘Of course.’
‘But hers became unbearable so she went to see the doctor. He sent her for tests and that was it . . . all over for Lena at the grand old age of thirty-two.’
‘And while you were trying to come to terms with this crushing blow, I was fretting because I thought you’d both gone off me,’ said Jane humbly. ‘God, it seems so petty now.’
‘You weren’t to know,’ he said. ‘We shouldn’t have shut you out. But we’ve been too shattered to think straight. It’s been almost as though the rest of the world had ceased to exist . . . we’ve been feeling so sorry for ourselves.’
‘Who wouldn’t?’
‘It’s just as well you’ve brought things out into the open, though,’ he said, looking at her gravely. ‘Because I should hate to lose you as a friend, and I know Lena feels the same.’
‘It’s been ages since she and I have had a natter and I’ve really missed her.’ Jane paused then added with feeling, ‘Tell me what I can do to help, Giles . . . please?’
His brow was deeply furrowed.
‘Just be there for her.’
‘I will be, you know that.’
‘You’ll have to be patient, though,’ he explained. ‘Because she doesn’t want to see anyone. She’s gone right into herself.’
‘Oh, dear . . . that isn’t like her.’
‘No, it isn’t. She doesn’t even want to see my mother and you know how she feels about Trudy.’
‘I do indeed.’
‘The trouble is, Lena is very tearful at the moment, and doesn’t want people to see her like that.’
‘I shall just have to be persistent then, won’t I?’
‘The doctor has told me that this weepy stage will pass.’
They lapsed into silence, each locked in their own sorrow.
‘If there’s anything at all I can do to help either of you, you only have to ask,’ Jane said.
‘Thanks.’
‘Perhaps I can look after Kevin . . . especially later on when things get more difficult?’ she suggested. ‘Being with Davey and Pip might help to take his mind off things, and he’s just like one of the family with us.’
‘Thanks again,’ said Giles, finishing his coffee and getting up to leave. ‘I’ll bear that in mind.’
After he’d gone, Jane went into the kitchen to wash the coffee cups. She’d planned to experiment with a new cake recipe this morning. Now all she wanted to do was howl. She turned on the radio out of habit. They were playing ‘Bridge Over Troubled Water’ by Simon and Garfunkel. Tears poured down her cheeks. She knew she would never be able to listen to that beautiful song again without remembering the desolation of this moment and wanting to cry.
The following afternoon, when she knew Lena was at home alone, Jane armed herself with magazines and nipped through the gap in the fence to rap on the Hamiltons’ back door with her knuckles. No reply. She knocked several more times and, when this didn’t produce a response, opened the door warily and went in - something she would have done without a second thought a few months ago.
‘Coo-ee, Lena, it’s me, Jane,’ she called into the house. ‘I’ve just popped in for a chat.’
Silence. She could almost hear Lena holding her breath and hoping her visitor would go away. Chancing her arm but trusting her instincts,
Jane went into the living room to find her friend sitting in an armchair by the fire, wearing ski pants and a sweater. She was pale and had lost weight but still looked lovely.
‘I’ve got some front, I know, just walking in like this.’
‘You said it,’ said Lena cuttingly, regarding Jane with unveiled hostility.
‘I thought you might like these magazines?’ she said, putting them down on the coffee table.
‘So I can read about next season’s fashions?’ said Lena bitterly.
‘Oh, Lena, I’m so sorry,’ cried Jane, her voice full of compassion.
‘Not half so sorry as I am,’ she said, her voice hard and brittle.
‘I can imagine.’
‘About the last thing I need right now is someone bursting with health and with a future ahead of them, feeling sorry for me!’
Jane swallowed hard.
‘I can’t help feeling sorry, Lena,’ she said, voice quivering. ‘I’m not being patronising, honest.’
Lena’s eyes brimmed with tears which she managed to control. ‘Oh, get out of here . . . just go and leave me in peace.’
‘I want to say the right thing but I don’t know what it is.’
‘There’s nothing you can say that will make me feel any better, so get out of here before you become as depressed as I am.’
‘Oh, Lena, please don’t shut me out,’ begged Jane, venturing closer to her chair. ‘I’m your friend, don’t deny me that.’
‘What use are friends to me now?’
‘You may not need me but I need you,’ said Jane firmly.
‘Oh.’ This clearly took her by surprise. ‘I can’t see why, since you’re not the one who’s going to die.’
‘If you can’t see why, then you’re not the person I thought you were.’
Lena looked at Jane, her green eyes huge in her emaciated face. Then she stood up and opened her arms to her friend.
‘Oh, God, Jane, what am I doing? I just can’t seem to shake off this wretched self-pity. I shouldn’t take it out on you.’
They hugged each other, sobbing.
‘Why me?’ asked Lena, when they were both calmer and sitting in chairs by the fire. ‘Why should it happen to me?’
‘It’s a mystery,’ said Jane shaking her head. Lena was too young, too lovely, to be facing death. It didn’t make sense.
‘You can’t possibly understand what it feels like to know that I won’t see my son grow up.’
‘I can’t know but I can imagine,’ replied Jane.
‘I want to be brave but I can’t fight my way out of this awful blackness.’
‘You asked me what use friends were to you? Well, I can’t do anything to change your destiny but I can promise to do what I can for Kevin. I know he has his father and his grandmother and all your other relatives. But I want you to know that I’ll always be there for him as well, close at hand next-door. He’ll want to be with Davey, he’ll need his friends, and my house will be home to him for as long as he needs it.’
Lena didn’t reply but Jane saw a hint of the old warmth in her eyes.
‘That means a lot to me, Jane,’ she said eventually in a soft voice. ‘Thanks for coming in to see me.’
‘I’m glad to see you again,’ said Jane. ‘I’ve really missed you.’
‘I’m sorry I’ve neglected you, I’ve been in shock.’
‘Don’t worry.’
‘I’ll make us some tea.’ She threw Jane a warning look. ‘And don’t you dare offer to do it for me. You might have to later on but until that time comes, I’m in charge around here.’
‘Okay.’ Jane grinned.
‘Come into the kitchen with me while I do it, though, and tell me what’s been going on around here while I’ve been out of circulation? I’m really out of touch.’
Jane guessed Lena was only putting up a front but at least some of her old spirit was back now.
It was bitterly cold and misty when Jane collected the children from school that terrible November afternoon.
‘Is Kev coming to our place again, Mum?’ asked Davey.
‘Yes.’
‘Brilliant,’ said Davey.
‘Hooray,’ cheered Pip, who adored her brother’s friend and irritated the life out of them both by trying to join in their games.
‘We can finish that game of table soccer we started last night, Kev,’ said Davey.
‘Is Daddy at the hospital again, Auntie Jane?’ asked Kevin.
‘Yes, I’m afraid so, love,’ she told him, her heart breaking.
‘Oh.’
‘You’ll be all right with us until he gets home, won’t you?’
‘Sure,’ he said, sounding subdued.
‘I’m sorry your mummy is ill, Kev,’ said Pip, patting his hand sympathetically, unaware of the seriousness of the situation. ‘But it’s really great that you’re staying at our house so much. It’s like having another brother, but better ’cause you’re not as bossy as Davey.’
Lena was in hospital, in a coma and not expected to last the night. For a while after Jane’s reconciliation with her, she had seemed quite well. Jane had spent as much time as she possibly could with her. Between Trudy, Jane and Lena’s mother, the sick woman hadn’t lacked for company while Giles was out at work. Knowing this was the case, he could go into school with an easy mind, so at least Jane felt she was making some sort of contribution.
Most of the time Jane and Lena had talked about all the usual things - men, marriage, kids, clothes - just as though everything was normal. It struck Jane as odd that they could be this ordinary at such an extraordinary time. But sometimes Lena’s bravery deserted her and she became almost hysterical with the unfairness of it all. Jane also wanted to scream at the injustice but knew this would only upset Lena even more. Jane didn’t know how best to behave so followed her instinct which seemed to be telling her to keep things as normal as possible. It was an appalling strain but she had to go on being there for as long as Lena needed her.
Then about a week ago her friend’s condition had worsened suddenly and she’d been taken into hospital. True to her promise, Jane concentrated on helping Kevin through this terrible time in the only way she knew how, with kindness and love. Giles wanted to spare his son the agony of seeing his mother at the end, and Jane had told Giles that if he needed to stay at the hospital overnight at any time, she would put Kevin to bed with Davey.
Now, giving the children their tea, Jane managed to behave normally though sick with dread, waiting for what she knew must come. Every time the telephone rang, her heart lurched. When tea was over, the children watched the television for a while then went upstairs to play in Davey’s bedroom. They were all unusually subdued. The boys even tolerated Pip’s company without making a fuss which was an indication of how they were feeling.
When Jane had finished washing the dishes, she went into the living room and sat down in an armchair with the newspaper, in an effort to take her mind off things. But the fact that the first year of Mr Heath’s Conservative government had been marked by more working days lost by strikes than at any time since 1926 seemed trivial compared to the drama taking place here. The item about missiles being thrown at the stage by protesters during the recent Miss World contest didn’t hold her interest either.
She was just beginning to think about getting the children ready for bed when Giles came in at the back door. She could tell by the stricken look on his face that it was over.
‘It was quite peaceful,’ was all he said.
‘Oh, Giles!’
She wanted to put her arms around him and comfort him but he looked so grim, so distant and unapproachable.
‘You look done in. Come into the living room and have a cup of tea . . . or I might be able to find something stronger?’
‘No, thanks, Jane. I have to take Kevin home. I have to tell him.’
‘Yes, of course,’ she said. ‘He’s upstairs. I’ll call him.’
‘Thanks for having me, Auntie Jane,’ said Kevin at
the door.
‘It was no trouble at all, love,’ she said. ‘See you soon.’ It was a sad moment for Jane, watching father and son go off together to struggle with their loss. She wanted to be with them, to make them feel better somehow. But for the time being she could not; they needed to be alone together with their grief.
‘What’s the matter, Mum?’ asked Davey as she closed the door after them and turned into the kitchen, crying. ‘Has something happened?’
‘Yes, I’m afraid it has,’ she said sadly. ‘Kevin’s mother has died.’
‘Oh,’ he gasped, looking frightened. ‘Does that mean she’s never coming back?’
‘That’s right.’
‘Poor old Kev,’ said Pip, her eyes filling with tears.
Davey was thoughtful, his dark eyes faraway.
‘Do you think if I gave him one of my table soccer teams it might cheer him up?’
Jane very much doubted it but it was such a kind thought.
‘It might do,’ she said, holding both her children close to her as the fragility of life was brought starkly home to her.
Jane and her father both attended the funeral on a dark November day with mist swirling around the graveside. It was a large gathering of friends, relatives and colleagues. Giles had allowed Kevin to be there to say his final goodbye and the two of them stood close together.
It seemed strange to see Trudy looking subdued in black. But she still managed to stand out, albeit unintentionally, in an enormous black hat and fashionably long dark coat.
‘It should have been me, not her,’ Jane heard her say to Joe when the funeral party gathered at Giles’s cottage afterwards.
‘You mustn’t think like that,’ he said with unusual kindness towards her. ‘If it was meant to be that way, that’s how it would have happened. It isn’t for us to say how these things should be.’
‘Poor Giles,’ said Trudy with a worried sigh. ‘God knows what he’s going to do without her.’
‘He’ll manage,’ said Joe, reminded of his own loss and also that Trudy had lost her husband. ‘We all do, somehow. ’