by Barnard, Jo
Frustrated by not having the breath to converse at length with me, his baby girl, Dad rested his head back on his pillow, and listened to my tales of India, and how my wonderful husband and I were planning on starting a family as soon as he returned. I so wanted Dad to know that I was secure, settled and happy, believing that it really meant the world to him.
As the bell rang to mark the end of visiting time, our hearts sank as we said goodbye, both trying to hide our disappointed sadness that we once again had to be parted. Kissing Dad’s forehead to avoid his oxygen mask, I promised to return tomorrow afternoon, and put on my best smile as I walked away. But the moment the ward door closed behind me, I cried and cried all the way home, until there were no tears left in me.
I waited until 11.30pm before calling Matt to update him on my dreadful experience. It was early morning in India, and he’d be stirring by then.
My husband listened lovingly to my tearful recollection of the hospital visit. “It’ll be ok,” he reassured me through my sorrow. “I’m here for you, baby. You’ll always have me to lean on you know. I’ve got broad shoulders for a reason. I love you, darling, and I miss you so much, but we’ll be together again soon, and I’ll make it all better for you, I promise. I’ll kiss all of your pain away.”
His loving words were just what I needed, and I felt secure knowing that I could depend on this gorgeous man to protect me and keep me safe. If only he was here with me.
The weeks that followed seemed like one long living nightmare. I tried to keep myself busy in an attempt to numb the anxiety I felt when I wasn’t with Dad. The arrival of visiting times seemed to take forever, and knowing that my lovely dad was all alone, struggling to breathe, totally dependant on the busy nurses, was incredibly distressing.
Just to see his face brighten was a huge relief, as was the notion of us being together for a little while longer. But that feeling was short-lived, and all too soon the dreaded bell would ring again, wrenching me away once more.
Deb rarely visited, which I found hard to understand. After all, she’d lived with Dad and they’d always been close; a closeness that I had craved. She didn’t seem to want to share in this difficult time with me, which was painful. A few throwaway comments led me to suspect that she was jealous of Dad’s love for me, but maybe this was her way of dealing with the inevitable loss of our father.
I needed Matt’s love more than ever. I felt vulnerable and missed him dreadfully. The thought of his return, and the hope of us creating a child together, was all that was keeping me going. I couldn’t wait to have his body next to mine again – strong, warm and protective. It was as though a big part of me was missing.
Three and a half weeks had passed since I’d made the journey from India to Scotland and I was now, both emotionally and physically exhausted.
Wondering whether each passing day would be the last time I’d see my dad, I dared not miss a day’s visiting. Quite often, I’d go twice, ensuring he wouldn’t spend too much time on his own. Although seeing his face and being beside him brought me great reassurance, I also watched him grow weaker and weaker, struggling to catch his breath, and finding it increasingly impossible to speak. The comforting thing was that we’d had some lovely, meaningful conversations in our first few days, so it felt like nothing important had been left unsaid. Just being there and holding his hand was exactly what he needed, and exactly what I needed too. To think that I’d dreamt of being this close to my daddy again for all these years…What I hadn’t envisaged though, was how much pain and sadness would accompany the closeness.
I missed Matt terribly, and as the weeks went by, I felt increasingly needy of his love and support to help me refuel somehow. But at the same time, I felt weighted down with guilt that I couldn’t be with him, and was therefore unable to give him what he was used to – my undivided attention and our physical closeness.
Matt’s phone calls became less frequent, and it became apparent that whenever I called him, he was limited on time due to work pressures. His tone was now rarely soft or loving, and I sensed that he was cross with me for putting my energy elsewhere and not fully into our relationship. He hadn’t said anything along these lines; it was just a feeling. He hadn’t, come to think of it, said much at all. On the other hand, however, perhaps I was imagining it – I was incredibly tired and drained after all. Nevertheless, it frightened me to feel this needy of someone – to feel that my emotional stability was dependant on his words and tone. After all, he’d promised to be my rock, to be my protector and to kiss all of the hurt away.
My whole being ached for him. Maybe if I hadn’t left him behind…Maybe if I tried a bit harder to think of how he must be feeling…Maybe it would all be different when I was in his arms again and we began to plan our family…Maybe…
* * *
The memories were too much to bear and I grasped a bunch of hair from the nape of my neck, ripping it out from its roots. The sudden intensity of the pain brought me instantly back into the here and now. I looked up at the clock and realised it was time to leave for Rose’s. I quickly grabbed some painkillers on the way out, and a biscuit to prevent any tummy grumblings. I arrived at the address I’d been given, to find a tiny but pretty little cottage. The darkness of the evening made it a little spooky, but perhaps that was just my imagination running away with me again. ‘Rose Cottage‘ was dimly lit and I made my way to the front door, tapping gently on the knocker. Rose greeted me with a warm smile and I felt instantly reassured that I was safe.
She led me up a spiral staircase, her heeled boots hanging over the back of each stair as she ascended, and her silver jewellery tinkling with every movement.
“Ever had a reading before, dear?”
“Only a palm reading in India. Life seemed good then so it was only for a bit of fun. But you won’t believe how timely your kind offer was. I could certainly do with a bit of guidance.”
“Oh, I believe it alright. There’s no such thing as a coincidence you know.”
Rose offered me a chair, and we sat down at a small round table, covered in a crushed velvet red cloth. A single pink rose in a tiny vase, a lit candle, and a sparkling lump of pale blue crystal had been carefully placed, allowing plenty of room for a well-used deck of cards which sat in the middle, face down.
“Beautiful rose. Is it scented?”
“It’s from the garden, dear, and yes, it smells divine.” She held the rose towards my nose.
“There’s something very comforting about the smell of roses. They really are my favourite.”
“Mine too.” Rose smiled. “Now, don’t think I’m being rude, dear, but I need you to sit quietly for me for a few minutes while I tune in to what’s going on.”
We sat together in the candle-lit room, my stomach doing summersaults with the anticipation of it all.
“Ok, dear. I’m seeing a kilt, so I’m feeling the presence of a Scottish male and I’m pretty sure he’s in the spirit world. He is showing me two lights and I’m wondering if this is representing either his children or grandchildren. Whoever they are, they are very precious to him. Does that mean anything to you?”
“Yes, it does,” I replied, not wanting to give too much away. I felt relieved and comforted to know that Dad was with me.
“No one else seems to be coming forward at the moment, dear, so let’s ask the Scottish man to stay with us while I shuffle the cards. Now, as it’s guidance that you need, let’s get a bit more insight into the problem itself.” She began to lay some cards face down in what seemed to be an ordered spread.
“First, we have the three of swords so I’m instantly being shown heartbreak – the worst pain of all. I’m getting huge internal conflict, dear, so I’m guessing things seem very difficult for you at the moment.”
I nodded, hoping Rose wouldn’t notice the tears beginning to well up. She reached across to the windowsill and grabbed a few tissues from a pretty box, passing them to me. “Tears are healing you know. Don’t be afraid to let them come.�
� The nape of my neck pulsated with pain.
“Now then, let’s understand what this pain is all about.” She turned the next card. It was the Devil. She nodded knowingly to herself. “As I thought, and as harsh as it may sound, it appears that you have been dancing to the Devil’s tune. Let’s look at this card together. You see, the Devil here represents the dark side of life, and of you. He is the opposite of love. He is fear, he is neediness, he is addiction, and he can be very powerful – but only if you let him. Now, this little puppet here is being operated by the Devil. It is doing whatever the Devil wants. It thinks it has to. It thinks it can’t survive without him. The truth is though, that it can break free from the chains at any point if it chooses to turn to the light. So this card is telling you not to be afraid, but to turn away from your fears and answer only to love. Now you must ask yourself, is this addictive substance or person feeding me with love? Am I feeling good about myself when I’m with this person or substance? Does that make sense, dear?”
“It makes perfect sense, Rose. But what if you don’t know how to free yourself?”
“Let’s look to the cards for insight.” She turned the next card. “Ok, we have the Ten of Swords. Now this figure here is you, lying down with ten swords in your back. Not literally, but metaphorically. Things look pretty grim. But you can see in the distance that things are starting to improve. The sky is clearing and the horizon looks bright. And so we conclude that this represents the ending of a difficult time, clearing the way for new beginnings. Although this card looks pretty painful, it is actually very positive. You won’t have to suffer like this for too much longer, dear.”
Rose turned over the next card. “Right then, this is the person that will help you move forward; the Queen of Cups. She is emotionally mature and highly intuitive. I am getting the sense of a large presence, bold and bright. Our Scottish man is showing me a very bright lipstick. And if you haven’t already met this lady, you soon will.”
I felt shocked. Could this be that lady from the coffee shop – Annie? It had to be. This was all a little bit spooky.
“Right, so we know that someone will help you, but what do you need to do to allow the healing to begin?” She turned the penultimate card over on the table. “The Ace of Cups. You need to open your heart to love and to the Divine guidance that surrounds you every day. You need to get out of your head and move forward from the heart. Ask for guidance and have faith that you will receive it. Scottish man seems very keen to help you too!” Rose chuckled.
The tears had stopped now and I breathed a large sigh. I felt hopeful that things actually might start to get better. There was one card remaining on the table.
“So let’s see what will be the outcome if you follow this guidance then, dear.” Rose turned over the card. “Lovely. The Queen of Pentacles. She is our Earth Mother and she represents those qualities in you; loving and wise; in perfect tune with nature and the cycles of life. She nurtures both herself and others. She loves her body and looks after her health. She accepts what she cannot change and she goes with the flow. This really is ever so positive and a lovely card to finish on. Now then, dear, is there anything else you want to ask while you’re here?”
I cleared my throat. “Will I ever have a successful relationship that doesn’t end in pain?”
Rose smiled. “Well, the Queen of Pentacles tells us that we must first learn to love ourselves.” She picked another card and placed it in the centre of the spread. “The Two of Cups. A beautiful card, and very telling too. This represents a meeting of hearts. A stable relationship on equal footings. It is a deep love that is based around friendship and mutual respect. So it would seem, dear, that once you’ve turned this corner, your future will be very bright indeed! Our Scotsman is showing me a swan. Does that mean anything to you?”
“Not really,” I replied, deeply wishing I knew what it meant.
“Well, not to worry. Just hold it in your mind and I’m sure it will become clear when the time is right.” Rose gathered up her cards and shuffled them back into the pack. “Now, would you like a glass of water before you head off, or do you feel ok?”
“I’m fine thank you, Rose. Thanks so much. You won’t believe how appropriate the cards have been. It’s really helped.”
Rose chuckled. “My pleasure, dear. The cards are always appropriate, believe me. Now, so long as you feel ok, that just leaves us to say thank you to any guides that have assisted us with our reading, especially our Scottish man.”
“Thanks, Dad,” I added, and Rose smiled. She saw me to the front door and told me that the next bus would be here any minute.
“I loved your cards, Rose. Where can I get a deck?”
“They’re lovely, aren’t they? I’ll pick up a pack for you and bring them into the shop. Now get on your way or you’ll miss your bus.”
I trotted down her driveway towards the bus stop, and despite the darkness beyond, I felt lighter than I had in a long time. Maybe things were looking up already.
Chapter Six
It was Saturday morning and I‘d got to work earlier than usual, arriving before Saff.
“Blimey! You’re a bit eager! What are you doing standing there? Waiting to roll the red carpet out for me?” Saffie winked. The wind had played havoc with her hair and she attempted to smooth it back down with her hands.
“Must’ve left my keys in the shop yesterday. Honestly, my brain at the moment…”
She unlocked the door, keeping one eye on me the whole time. “Well? How did it go? Give me detail. Omit nothing!”
“It was excellent thanks, Saff; very reassuring. Rose reckons that once I’ve turned this corner, the future will be very bright.”
“Well, that’s good to hear. About time you got a break. Coffee?”
“Ooh, yes please.”
She filled our mugs and reached for the milk. “So? What else did she say?”
“Well, I’m certain that my dad came through right at the beginning, which felt amazing. I’ve missed him so much, Saff.”
“No need to miss him if he’s with you, honey.”
“Yeah, I’m kinda feeling that now. Anyway, the cards were spot on. The heartbreak, the getting stabbed in the back; it all rang true. And then she said I’d been dancing to the Devil’s tune.”
“The Devil being shit-face bastard Matt, I take it?”
“He’s still my husband you know, Saff.”
“Husband? That spineless arsehole offered you not one bit of support through your dad’s illness.”
“But I did leave him out in India. Anyway, he came back for the funeral. That must count for something.”
“Yes, and while he was back he slept with your sister too. On your thirtieth birthday of all occasions. Or have you forgotten that bit?”
“Of course I haven’t forgotten. Look, I know you hate him, and I wish I could hate him too, but my heart still aches for him, Saff, and a part of me still wishes he’d call so we can put things right. I know it sounds stupid, but you can’t help who you fall in love with.”
“No, but you can learn about self-respect. I’m sorry, Jude, I know I sound harsh, but it’s only coz I love you, and sometimes I think you need to hear the truth, even though it hurts.” Saff put her arms around me and rubbed my shoulders. She lifted my chin up so that our eyes met. “So come on then, back to this reading. What else did she say?”
“She said I need to free myself from the chains that bind, and that a tall, intuitive lady would help me.”
“Well, that rules short-arse-me out then!”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “I think I know who Rose meant, Saff. I think I’ve met her already. Anyway, she said that if I learn to love and nurture myself, then I will find love again. Whether that love is Matt or not, I don’t know.”
“Not if you love yourself it won’t be.” I knew Saffie meant well, and that she had my best interests at heart. I just wished my outlook was as clear and simple as hers seemed to be. She’d had her fair share of heart
ache too. Her husband left her for a younger model when she was heavily pregnant with Sol, so I couldn’t blame her for being a bit anti-men.
A supplier came in to chat to Saffie, followed by a steady flow of customers. Rarely were we rushed off our feet, but we could pretty much guarantee a higher level of activity on Saturdays. The day passed quickly, and before I knew it, I was home again.
I knew what I had to do. I reached for my jacket, removing the slip of paper from its inside pocket. Although I’d done nothing with it in the week that had passed, it had felt comforting to know it was there. And since my reading with Rose last night, I was sure that it was going to be useful.
Tentatively, and with shaky hands, I dialled the number. But as soon as I heard it ring, I quickly hung up. What on earth would I say anyway? Where would I begin? I made myself a cup of tea, feeling disappointed and disheartened by my lack of courage. People appear in your life for a reason, I thought, and this woman appeared out of nowhere, tapped into my feelings, and offered me support.
I finished my tea, and summoned the nerve to redial.
“Hello, Annie speaking.” Her voice was low and authoritative, yet friendly. Not quite knowing how to start this conversation, or indeed, even if she’d remember me, I nervously began to speak.
“Oh, hello, Annie. My name’s Jude. We sort of met in the coffee shop last week. You probably don’t remember, but you kindly gave me your number and…”
“Hello, darling. I’m glad you phoned,” she replied. “I’ve been waiting for you.”
Without much encouragement, I proceeded to tell Annie about pretty much everything. Not in detail, but I explained about the pain and anguish of watching Dad suffocate to his death and how helpless that made me feel. I told her about Deb withdrawing from me when Dad got ill, and leaving almost all of the hospital visits to me. I explained that Matt’s contract had got extended in Punjab and how much I missed him, despite his betrayal with my sister. And I told her that I was self-harming again and didn’t know how to stop.