by Sandie Jones
I shrugged my shoulders. I couldn’t care less.
He looked at me through narrowed eyes. ‘You need to look at the bigger picture here. We can get married anytime. Mum might not be here for much longer.’
‘Exactly, that’s why you made the wrong call,’ I said. ‘We should have got married so your mum could be there.’
‘Maybe so, but what’s happened has happened, and we need to get through it, together.’
‘So, how is Pammie doing?’ I said, ignoring his veiled plea.
‘She’s doing okay, thanks,’ he said, a hint of sarcasm in his voice. ‘We went to her first chemo last week and she’s got another one coming up.’
I felt like I’d been hit by a ten-tonne truck. ‘We?’
He nodded. ‘Yeah, I took her to hospital last Monday. I just wanted to make sure she was okay. You’d do the same for your mum, Em, you know you would.’
I was struggling to get my head round this. He’d gone with her? To a fictitious appointment? How the hell had she pulled that off?
‘It’s so harrowing what they have to go through,’ he went on. ‘Mum’s after-effects aren’t too bad at the moment, she feels a bit sick and she’s really tired, but she’s been told to expect it to get worse as time goes on.’ He rubbed his eyes. ‘Honestly, you wouldn’t wish it on your worst enemy.’
I was so shocked that I didn’t even have the wherewithal to reach forward and give him a reassuring hand. For the first time since her ‘announcement’ I began to wonder if it could actually be true. The heat of the realization crept up from my toes to my neck, sending a flush across my cheeks. I surreptitiously shrugged my coat off in an effort to cool down.
It hadn’t occurred to me for a second that she’d been telling the truth. I thought about how that would make me look. How my recent behaviour would be perceived by those around me. I was banking on her lies being uncovered. For her to be revealed as the cruel fraud she was. But what if it was all true?
‘What’s it like in there?’ I managed. ‘The hospital, I mean.’ I had to be sure he was saying what I thought he was saying.
‘They make it as comfortable as they can for the patients,’ he said, my heart sinking with every syllable. ‘There are a few other women in the room, you know, all having the same thing, which helps Mum, ’cause you know what she’s like, not one to keep herself to herself.’ He smiled. ‘So it’s good for her to be able to chat, to find out what might be around the corner, to prepare herself for whatever it may be. It also helps her to realize that she’s not on her own, which I think is the most important thing.’
He bowed his head. ‘It’s not looking too good though, Em,’ he said, before his shoulders caved in and shuddered with the rise and fall of his chest.
I moved round to his side of the table and slid along the bench to reach him. He sobbed as I put my arm around him, then grabbed my hand tightly and brought it up to his mouth. ‘I love you,’ he whispered. ‘I’m so sorry.’
‘Ssh, it’s okay.’ I was at a loss as to what else to say. I’d spent such a long time with the thoughts in my own head, going over the unfairness of it all, and the conspiracy I felt Pammie had been orchestrating since the day she met me, that I’d not thought about how Adam was feeling. I’d just written him off as a fool, a lesser man for allowing himself to be duped. But that wasn’t how he was feeling; he was bereft. He’d cancelled his wedding to the woman he loved, and he believed, for he had no reason not to, that his mother was dying.
‘It’s probably not the best place to have had this conversation,’ I said, half laughing, as we watched commuters rushing by the window.
‘No, probably not,’ he agreed, before turning to me and placing a wet kiss on my forehead. ‘Will you come and see Mum? She really wants to see you, believe it or not, to say how sorry she is.’
Despite myself, I pulled back a little. ‘I’m not sure,’ I said, no longer in control of my thoughts, or how they played out on my lips.
‘Please, it would mean the world to her – to us both.’
I nodded. ‘Okay. Maybe.’
‘She’s got chemo again next Wednesday, your day off. Maybe you could drive down and meet us afterwards? Unless, of course, I can come back home and we can drive down together?’
I wasn’t sure of anything anymore. Instead of easing the swarm of thoughts in my head, Adam’s revelation that he was going to the hospital with Pammie only served to feed them, making them buzz and whirr away until they throbbed at my temples.
33
It wasn’t Adam being back home that had given me this excruciating headache. It was the pressure of going to see Pammie that was stressing me out. I could literally feel the tightness working its way across my shoulders and creeping up into my neck.
I instinctively opened the fridge to get a bottle of wine, but stopped short. Alcohol had gone a long way to numbing my nerve endings, but I couldn’t rely on it as a crutch forever. I needed to stand on my own and be in tune with my brain and body, to really feel what it was feeling, rather than exist in the misty cloud of depression and detachment that had enveloped me for a fortnight.
I looked longingly at the bottle of Sauvignon Blanc, chilled to perfection. Pippa must have brought it with her when she came round for dinner on Sunday night, though to think that it had lived long enough to tell the tale was a miracle. I hadn’t intended to drink then, either, but when I told her I’d seen Adam, she demanded to come over to get all the details.
She’d sat open-mouthed on the sofa, as I paced up and down in front of her, no doubt boring her with every minutia of mine and Adam’s conversation. Aside from the obvious stress I’d been under, it had been great having Pippa around again. I’d missed us living together, and the chats we used to have. She was the closest entity I had to a second brain; when mine was spouting drivel, hers was the voice of sanity that I so often needed.
‘Are you sure you’re doing the right thing?’ she’d asked. ‘Letting him come back?’
I nodded painfully slowly, whilst wringing my hands, unsure even of my own decisions anymore.
‘But you’re still going to have her to deal with,’ Pippa had said. She hadn’t even been able to bring herself to say the name ‘Pammie’. ‘She’s always going to be there. Is Adam really worth it?’
‘I love him, Pip. What am I supposed to do? And let’s just give her the benefit of the doubt for a moment. She may well be telling the truth.’
‘Nah, I’m not buying it,’ she said, shaking her head. ‘Remember when I joked about there not being too many psychotic sexagenarians in the world?’
I nodded.
‘I was wrong.’ We both laughed.
My mobile rang, and made us jump.
‘Hello?’ I’d still been laughing as I answered the phone.
‘How are you, stranger? Nice to hear you sounding happy,’ said Seb.
I instantly felt guilty, that I should put myself back in my sad box, but then I realized that it was the first time I’d laughed in two weeks, and I’d done nothing wrong, though I reasoned that Seb was about to tell me differently.
‘I’m sorry,’ I’d said. ‘I’ve been in a really weird place.’
‘One that you couldn’t trust your friend to help you out of?’
I’d sighed. I was painfully aware that I’d not returned a few of his calls, promising myself each time that tomorrow would be the day, but I’d still not got around to it and it had been nagging at me. Our relationship never used to be hard work. I could only think of one reason why it had become such, but I only had myself to blame for allowing outside influences to infiltrate the special bond that we shared.
‘I really am sorry,’ I offered.
‘Are you at home? Can I come over?’ he asked.
I hesitated. ‘Er . . .’
‘Don’t worry, you’re obviously busy,’ he said dejectedly.
What the hell was I doing? ‘Of course you can. Pippa’s here. It’d be great to see you.’
He ga
ve me a chaste kiss on the cheek as he came through the door, nothing like the hug I would have expected, given the circumstances. We chatted awkwardly through the first bottle of wine, skirting around the issue that seemed to be wedged between us, though what it was, I didn’t know. He was reticent and unusually unanimated, which put me on guard as I constantly waited for him to drop the bomb. I knew I’d avoided him ever since the wedding had been called off, but then I’d avoided everyone aside from Pippa and my mum. But I knew, in my heart of hearts, that Seb would normally have been my stalwart in times of need, and he knew it too.
He was just opening the second bottle of Pinot Grigio when he said, ‘So what was the real reason you didn’t want me to come to your dress fitting?’
Of all the possible scenarios that had been bouncing around in my head over the past hour, that wasn’t one of them. I instantly felt my cheeks redden.
‘As I said to you,’ I said, in a clipped tone. ‘I wanted to save it for the big day.’ Wasn’t that the truth? I’d certainly gone some way to convincing myself that it was.
‘So, it was nothing to do with what Pammie said to you, then?’ He looked up from the bottle resting between his knees.
‘What? When?’ I said, though I was already being hit with a sickening realization.
‘When you were by the pool in Portugal.’
I turned to Pippa for validation of what I thought he was saying, but she just shrugged her shoulders.
‘I’m sorry, I’m not quite with you,’ I said, hoping to call his bluff.
‘I was sitting on the bench on the other side of the hedge,’ he said. My heart lurched as I frantically tried to recall every word I’d said to Pammie.
‘I was rather hoping, banking on it actually, that when you said you’d choose me over her, you meant it.’
I stared at him, open-mouthed. ‘But . . . I did. I mean, I have.’
He raised his eyebrows questioningly. ‘Yet, as soon as we got home, you told me you didn’t want me at your dress fitting, and I haven’t heard a peep from you since the wedding was cancelled. I don’t want to be a burden to you, Em, so if having me in your life makes things difficult, then I’d rather you just say . . .’
I shook my head vehemently as his words struck a chord, as if I was trying to shake the very truth of them out of my brain. ‘That’s not how it is,’ I said.
‘So, does Adam have a problem with me?’ he asked.
I thought back to how he’d been at the cinema that time, before he’d even met Seb, and his cutting remarks when he found out he was going to see my dress. I pushed the doubt to the back of my mind.
‘Don’t be silly,’ I said. ‘Adam would never feel threatened by you. It’s just Pammie being Pammie . . . you know what she’s like.’ I went over to him and put my arm around him. ‘I’m sorry if you thought I was being offhand for any other reason than, I suppose, embarrassment and shame about the wedding.’
He pulled me into a warm embrace, the one I’d expected and wanted when I first saw him. ‘But it’s me,’ he said. ‘Since when have we let anything like embarrassment and shame come between us?’
I smiled.
‘I’m always here for you,’ he said. ‘For better or worse.’
‘Bloody hell,’ interrupted Pippa. ‘Maybe you two ought to get married.’
We had all laughed then, which, just a few days previously, had seemed impossible.
But now, as I sat in Adam’s car, heading to Sevenoaks, life didn’t seem quite so carefree, and I wished that I’d had that drink after all, just to take the edge off. My brain was so fuddled that I was having trouble seeing the wood for the trees.
‘You okay?’ Adam smiled, sensing my trepidation.
I smiled back, and he reached over to take my hand. ‘It’ll be okay,’ he said reassuringly. I doubted that, but then I remembered that, actually, this wasn’t about me anymore. This was about Pammie, who might or might not have cancer (my mind had swung this way and that, but it was tending to settle on the latter, nine times out of ten). Still, until I was absolutely sure that was the case, I promised myself that I would assume the worst. Ironically, I felt the load lighten a little when I allowed myself to believe that she was telling the truth. At least then we had something tangible to work with, and we could all get on with helping her beat it. But if she wasn’t?
‘Oh, Emily darling, it’s so good to see you,’ she said, embracing me at the front door. ‘I cannot begin to tell you how sorry I am. Really. I am so, so sorry. I would never have said anything if I thought for just one moment that . . .’
I smiled tightly. Regardless of whether she was ill or not, I still didn’t have to like her.
‘Darling,’ she exclaimed as Adam reached her. ‘Goodness, how I’ve missed you.’
‘I’ve only been gone for two days.’ He laughed, rolling his eyes.
‘Yes, yes I know. You should be home with Emily, that’s where you belong.’ I didn’t know if she was trying to convince us or herself.
‘How are you?’ I asked, as sincerely as I could. ‘How are you feeling?’
She looked down. ‘Oh, you know, I’ve been better, but I can’t complain. I’ve not been sick too much and I’ve still got all my hair.’ She patted the top of her head.
‘Ladies, shall we go inside, before the whole street hears?’ said Adam, ushering us through to the low-ceilinged hall.
‘Oh, of course, it’s just that I’m so pleased you’re here. The both of you.’ She took my hand and led me through to the back sitting room.
‘How have you been?’ she asked me, almost genuinely. ‘I’ve been thinking about you so much.’
I looked to Adam, and he smiled warmly back, like a proud dad. He bought every word she said. She had him wrapped around her little finger. I felt a very real pang of disappointment. Nothing had changed.
‘I’m fine, actually,’ I lied.
There was an awkward silence, but Adam seemed oblivious as we stood there, sizing each other up. ‘We’ve not got much time,’ he said. ‘And the traffic’s pretty lousy.’
‘Oh, we should get going then,’ said Pammie, gathering up her cardigan and handbag from a chair. ‘Let’s save the chat for later.’
I forced a grin.
‘Now, I’ve made a few little sandwiches, just in case you get peckish. Just take the cling film off whenever you’re ready, and there’s cake in the tin in the pantry. Lemon drizzle, I made it myself,’ she said proudly.
‘That’s lovely,’ I said, aware of the falseness of our conversation. I couldn’t remember the last time we’d exchanged such pleasantries. ‘You shouldn’t have gone to so much trouble.’
‘Don’t be silly, it’s the least I can do for you coming down all this way. And we shouldn’t be too long, anyway, they just need to get me attached and then we’re off and away.’ She pulled up the sleeve of her blouse to reveal a padded gauze stuck to the inside of her arm. ‘Perhaps we can have a proper chat when I get back?’
I nodded, but looked to Adam.
‘Do you not want Emily to come with us?’ he asked, sensing my confusion. I’d not even contemplated them going without me.
‘Goodness, no,’ she said. ‘There’s no point in that. We’ll have a cup of tea and some cake when I get back, okay?’ She looked to me, then Adam, and we both nodded mutely.
‘Sorry, I didn’t know she was expecting you to stay here,’ whispered Adam, as he leant in to kiss me goodbye. ‘I’ll be as quick as I can.’
‘No worries,’ I said tightly. ‘See you when you get back.’
‘Make yourself at home,’ called Pammie as they headed out the door.
I watched her shuffle up the path and then tell Adam what she wanted him to do with her bag before he helped her in, placing a protective hand over her head as she slowly lowered herself into the passenger seat.
I made myself a cup of tea and sat on the sofa, wondering what I was going to do with the hours that stretched out ahead of me. I’ve always felt uncomfortabl
e being in someone else’s home when they’re not there. There’s something rather unnerving about being surrounded by someone else’s possessions that you know you shouldn’t touch. I picked up The Lady magazine from the coffee table and had a flick through, but it was full of features and ads aimed at a life other than mine. Alas, I had no need for a butler, bodyguard, or yacht staff at the moment.
I thought about putting the TV on, just for a bit of background noise to break through the silence, but then I eyed the hi-fi in the corner, an old-fashioned stacking system, with a three-disc CD changer. I’d had one of those in my bedroom when I was a teenager, and I remembered the long afternoon it had taken me and Dad to read through the hi-tech instructions. As much as times have changed and moved forward, it still took me longer than it should have to find the ‘on’ button and press eject. Simon and Garfunkel’s Greatest Hits, one of my mum’s favourites, was already lying in the groove, so I clicked it closed again and pressed play. The opening guitar strum to ‘Mrs Robinson’ filled the room, taking me back to those Saturday mornings when Mum hoovered around our feet as Stuart and I sat on the sofa. ‘Up!’ she’d say as we both giggled.
The photo albums that Pammie had proudly flicked through on my very first visit here were lined up on the shelf above, sandwiched between two midi speakers. I looked along the spines, at the years written boldly in black pen. I could only remember that the album she’d shown me was maroon leather, but now, as I touched them, I saw that they were a cheap plastic, trying their best to imitate leather. I pulled the first of three maroon books from its place, its tacky cover sticking to its neighbours. The pages were overflowing with a young Pammie and Jim, clearly in the first throes of love, gazing adoringly at each other, whilst others around them could only look on. Adam was the spitting image of Jim, as a twenty-something young man – and James bore even more of a resemblance. Jim had his arm proudly around Pammie’s shoulders, his presence a warning sign to any aspiring suitors. Another photo showed Pammie draped over the bonnet of a Hillman Imp, in a geometric shift dress, whilst her girlfriends, with their pinched faces, were duly ensconced inside. I could just imagine the envy-induced conversation going on, as the gorgeous Jim stood behind the camera, admiring his girlfriend. Another page on and Pammie, Jim and friends are lying on a picnic blanket, which, despite being sheltered between sand dunes, was still being lifted off the ground by a blustering wind. England in summer, no doubt – perhaps Camber Sands or Leysdown on the south coast. I imagined the freedom that being a young person living in the late sixties must have brought, and felt a pang of jealousy. To live with such abandon, with nothing to tie them down, must have been empowering. I wondered if we would feel the same about today, when we look back in the future.