"To prove she wasn't chicken." He winced.
"A hen is a chicken," Nana said, shaking her head.
We all roared laughing at her again.
"My turn," Mum said. "Why is a foot a good Christmas present?"
"I don't know.—why is a foot a good Christmas present?" We droned.
"Because it's a stocking filler." She raised her eyebrows with a smirk as she placed her green paper crown on her head.
I shook my head, glancing at James.
He laughed.
We carried on until we'd all had a turn and were wearing the silly paper hats. Mum always insisted we read the jokes and wear the hats, but this was the first year we didn't protest.
"Okay, tuck in before it gets cold," Beryl said.
"It all looks wonderful, Beryl," Mum said, and we all agreed, making numerous appreciative sounds.
There was turkey, stuffing, roast potatoes, mashed potatoes, carrots and swede, roast parsnips, sprouts, peas and gravy—all cooked to perfection.
Mum hardly touched her food and after a few minutes seemed to be slouching in her chair.
"Are you alright, Mum?" I asked.
She nodded, her eyes closing momentarily. "I'm wonderful thanks, Geri," she replied slowly. Then she put her knife and fork down and glanced around the table. "Have you ever been married, James?" she asked.
James, who had just filled his mouth with delicious food, coughed slightly before reaching for a napkin and wiping his lips.
"Got close a couple of times, but it just wasn't meant to be."
"Why not? You're not gay are you?"
"Mum!" I was horrified.
"What? I'm just asking."
"It's okay." James laughed. "No, Grace. I'm not gay. It's just that each time I considered marriage, something happened to put me off."
"Do you think you'll ever get married?" she continued.
"I hope so—one day."
Mum nodded and smiled, taking the paper hat off. She screwed it into a ball and placed it on the plate. "Sorry everyone, but I'm going to need a lie-down. Does anybody mind?"
Once again, we all spoke together, saying we didn't mind, and Dad helped her up the stairs.
"She's done well," I said. "She got up early and has been very excited."
"Where's John?" Nana cried.
"John?" I asked. "Oh, you mean Grandad—he's not here, Nana."
Her husband, John Bradford, had died of a heart attack five years ago. I didn't want to be the one to break this news to her.
"I want John!" She pushed her chair backwards, making a loud noise on the wooden floor, and got to her feet. "John!" she shouted.
I jumped up and rushed to her side. “Come on, Nana, finish your lovely dinner.” I tried to steer her back to the table but she nastily shrugged my hand off her arm.
"I don't want any dinner, I want to go home—John! John!"
"Dad will take you home when he gets back."
"Where does she live?" James asked.
"A nursing home in Carlisle."
"I don't mind taking her home if you want to come along for the ride?" he offered.
I nodded. "Finish your dinner then." I turned to Nana. "I'll take you home after dinner Nana. Do you want to watch some more TV? The Love Boat is on again."
Nana stopped and considered this. "I like The Love Boat," she said, calm once again.
I sighed. "Come on then," I led her through to the lounge.
Dad was back at the table when I returned.
"How's Mum?" I asked.
"Exhausted—she was asleep as soon as she lay down." Our eyes locked for a second.
"Nana was getting upset. She was calling for Grandad. Did you hear her?"
He nodded, "I heard something."
"James said he doesn't mind taking her home after dinner."
"That's very good of you, James. I'm sorry, but this didn't turn out to be such a good day after all, did it?"
"Nonsense." Beryl patted Dad’s hand across the table. "It is what it is."
"Well, the food was delicious. I'm even thinking of having some more," he said.
"There's plenty. If you don't eat it today, you'll be sick of it by next week." She laughed.
"In that case then." Dad piled up his plate once more. "How about you, James—can you manage anymore?"
"Not if you want me to drive," he laughed. "If I have so much as one more mouthful, I'll never fit behind the wheel." He groaned as he pushed back in his chair and placed both hands on either side of his stomach.
"Well, there's plenty of dessert. Maybe we'll save that until you get back." Beryl took her yellow hat off and folded it neatly beside her plate.
Chapter 37
Nana came with us willingly as soon as we explained we were taking her home. In fact, she almost ran to the front door, no longer worried about going in a car with two strangers.
The Christmas day traffic was almost non-existent, and we arrived at the nursing home in record time.
Nana seemed to relax as soon as we entered through the security doors and into reception. As we were leaving, she had a moment of clarity and clutched my hand with her strong, bony fingers, and tried to force a five pound note into my palm with her other hand.
"Get yourself some sweeties, Geraldine," she insisted.
"No, Nana," I said, pulling my hands away.
She tut-tutted and stuffed it into my jacket pocket instead.
"Thanks, Nana." I kissed her cheek gratefully, and I had to blink the tears away as the nurse escorted her to her room.
"Are you okay?" James asked as we walked back to the car. His eyebrows were furrowed and his mouth twisted in a concerned expression.
I nodded. "She knew me then—just for a second she knew me, and I didn't want her to go in. It's been years since she last recognised me—even if she did think I was still a young girl needing sweeties."
"It's got to be tough. I never knew my grandparents. Both sets of mine had been dead long before I was born," he said.
"That's terrible!" For all that my family could drive me to distraction, I wouldn't be without a single one of them. Poor James was totally alone, unless you counted his waste of space father who never got in touch. He was too wrapped up in his new wife and her children to care less about his only son.
"You don't miss what you've never had." He shrugged as he held the car door open for me to climb in.
"Simon's here," I said, as we pulled up outside the cottage less than half an hour later.
"I'll get going then."
"Don't be silly. You haven't had any dessert yet, or played any silly board games. Don't think you're getting away with that."
"Board games?" James screwed up his face.
I nodded. "Dad insists—every year."
"Won't Simon mind if I'm here?"
"Why should he?" I asked.
James shrugged. "Oh, you know. Maybe he'll be jealous."
"Believe me—he won't. And besides, he'll probably be glad of the company, to be honest."
"Only if you're sure."
Auntie Beryl had cleaned all the dishes from dinner and was preparing copious amounts of dessert.
"Who's for trifle?" she asked, as we entered.
"Yes please," I said. "I love your trifle, Auntie Beryl."
Simon met us in the hall. "Hi, Geri," he said, kissing my cheek, then he shook James' hand and patted his shoulder.
James visibly relaxed at Simon's welcome and followed him through to the lounge.
However, Simon didn't remain gracious for very long. Especially after James won the second game of Trivial Pursuit in a row—of which Simon was the undefeated champion for the past umpteen years. This caused a lot of tongue-in-cheek banter.
"Isn't it time you were leaving?" Simon leant back in his chair and scrutinised his watch.
"Sorry to snatch the title away from you, but there's no need to be a sore loser," James skited, and we all laughed at Simon's horrified expression.
"I though
t you were a decent bloke—how wrong you can be about a person." Simon shook his head, a faint grin teasing the corners of his mouth.
"And I thought you'd be more of a gracious loser." James bit back, a huge smile on his face.
Dad, Auntie Beryl and I all groaned together.
"Low blow, James." I sucked in air through my teeth.
"I demand a rematch!" Simon said.
"Not tonight, you don't." I began putting all the pieces away. "It's already 11 o'clock. That last game took hours."
"At a later date then—but don't forget."
"I accept your challenge and await your call," James said, jovially. "Can I escort you home, Beryl?" James asked, helping her on with her coat.
"That's very nice of you, lovey."
After saying our goodbyes’ Dad, Simon and I stood at the gate and watched as James walked Auntie Beryl to her door before doubling back and taking the path across the green.
"Told you he fancies you." Simon nudged me in the ribs after Dad went back inside.
I shook my head and rolled my eyes. "You couldn't be more wrong, Simon."
"We'll see." He laughed.
I nudged him back. "Come on—let's get to bed."
Once we were in my room, I was able to fill him in on the week’s events.
***
Mum had deteriorated rapidly by morning. Dad called Doctor Jessop, who came out despite it being Boxing Day, to check her over, but he had no answers as to why she'd suddenly gone downhill.
"Maybe you need to take her back to the hospital, get her checked out properly, Max. I'm not an expert in this area."
"Not right now. We'll see how she is in a day or so," Dad said.
But Monday came around and Mum was no better. She was lethargic and weak. She refused to eat and hardly drank a thing. In fact, fluid seemed to be catching her throat and causing her to choke.
I called the hospital and left a message for Doctor Kate Price. Not long after, she called us back, and I put her on loud speaker so Dad and I could both talk to her. We explained what was happening with Mum.
"Unfortunately, it seems as though Grace's tumour is rapidly growing back—this sometimes happens with these kinds of tumours. There is no telling why. The best I can do is to make her comfortable. Do you have a care plan in mind?"
Dad cleared his throat, and I realised our fingers were grasping at each other.
"We haven't had a chance to discuss it," he said.
I was surprised how together he seemed to be.
"But I'd prefer her to stay at home," he continued. "If all you can do for her is to keep her comfortable, there's no reason we can't care for her ourselves, is there?"
There was a brief pause on the other end of the phone. "If you're sure. Although it won't be easy, we do have resources available to assist and make it as easy on everyone as possible. This will include your GP and district nurses, possibly even the Macmillan nurses, if needed."
"She's been having terrible headaches lately. The painkillers you prescribed don't seem to be touching it," Dad said.
"Don't worry. We'll up her meds. She'll be more out of it I'm afraid, but she won't be in any pain, and that's the main thing."
"How long do you think we have, Doctor?" I asked, knowing Dad wanted to know too, but couldn't bring himself to ask.
I heard him gasp, and we both held our breath waiting for her reply.
"It's hard to say, but considering the rate at which the tumour seems to be growing back, I don't think you have very much longer—I'm sorry."
Chapter 38
"You ready, Dad?" I asked, tapping on his bedroom door.
I could make out the sound of his feet shuffling on the carpet and then he cleared his throat before answering.
"Be right there, lass."
I turned to go downstairs as the doorbell rang.
"I'll get it," Beryl appeared in the hallway, smoothing down her severe black skirt that seemed to caress every lump and bump of her well-rounded figure.
Halfway down the stairs I caught a glimpse of a pair of men’s shiny black shoes.
Beryl gasped and took a step backwards, quickly looking up at me.
"They're here, lovey."
I nodded. "We'll be right there." I was surprised at how together my voice sounded to my own ears.
My gaze followed the man as he made his way back to the street, and I suddenly noticed the crowd that had gathered on the village green.
I shuddered.
I wasn't ready. I couldn't do this.
Just then, Dad put his hand on my shoulder.
I jumped. I hadn't been aware he'd even followed me down the stairs.
"Let's do this, lass."
I took a deep breath and groped for his hand, gripping it tight.
He turned to face me, his watery green eyes full of pain, and his lips turned down as he tried his best to be staunch for my benefit. He nodded. "Come on."
Together we walked down the path. It felt surreal to see the whole village, dressed in black, turning to face us.
Mum's sister Auntie Sylvia and her husband Nigel, were getting out of a red car a few doors down. The initial thrill of recognition was quashed as I remembered the reason they were here, and I waved half-heartedly.
Simon stepped forward and linked my free hand through his arm and led us to the funeral cars. My stomach flipped once more as I noticed Kevin standing just behind him. Simon had told me he was coming, but it was still a shock to my system, which was surprising considering how numb I felt. I knew he was here to support Simon at this awful time, and I didn't mind. It suddenly struck me how far I'd come since that last time we met.
The trip to the crematorium in Kirkby Mayor passed in a blur—as did most of the service. I didn't cry until the curtains closed around Mum's casket, and then I wasn't able to control myself.
Afterwards, I was ushered out. Not really thinking for myself, just going along with the chain of people being led by Simon.
Dad was already outside. He seemed to be coping. He nodded and smiled at the throngs of people who wanted to pay their respects. Most of them, we hadn't seen in years. Some of them, I hadn't a clue who the heck they were at all.
I stood by Dad’s side as Simon walked over to join Kevin. They hugged, and then Kevin half waved in my direction. I returned the gesture and then looked away.
I scanned the crowd, and my stomach flipped as I noticed Vinny heading my way.
"Hi, Geri, I wanted to say how sorry I am. She was a lovely woman."
I nodded. "Thanks, it's good of you to come," I said, my voice hardly more than a whisper.
"I don't attend every funeral in the village, but I was shocked by your mum—it seemed so sudden."
I nodded. "It was." I filled my lungs with air and blinked, not wanting the tears to start again.
"I know I'm probably not your favourite person at the moment, but if you need anything ..." He shrugged.
"I'll bear that in mind, Vinny, thanks. Are you coming back to the house for a sandwich?"
"I will do. But I've got something I need to do first—is it okay if I come along later?"
Suddenly James appeared beside us.
"Geri," he said as he bent to kiss the top of my head.
"Thanks for coming, James." I nodded at Vinny as he backed away.
"I couldn't miss it. Your mum was a great lady."
I nodded. "She was."
"If you need to talk, you know where I am."
"Thanks, James." I noticed the way his chest hairs poked out the neck of his shirt. I could barely tear my eyes away.
What was I like? Checking out men at my own mother's funeral, for God's sake.
"I see Simon's here. Will you be going back to Manchester with him now?"
"No. We're not together anymore. I told you that."
"Oh, I just thought ..."
I shook my head. "You thought wrong.”
Suddenly, Dad jumped forward, and I turned in time to see him catch Auntie Beryl
who, without him, would have crashed to the ground in an ungainly heap. She looked terrible. Losing Mum had hit her badly.
"I'm sorry, James. I'd best go and ..." I gripped his hand and nodded back towards Dad and Beryl.
"Of course, you go."
"Will I see you back at the house?" I asked as I stepped away from him. My fingers lingered on his briefly.
"I'll pop in for a quick drink, but I was wondering if you'd come out with me for a bite to eat one night?"
"I'd like that, James." Simon's teasing words sprang to mind, and I had to push them aside as I approached Beryl, my arms outstretched.
"Oh, lovey," she cried, and pulled me into her gigantic bosom.
My nostrils were filled with a mixture of white musk perfume, Harmony hairspray and Polo mints, and I was instantly transported back to my childhood. Beryl had always been there, almost as much as my parents were. I felt a sudden overwhelming sadness in the pit of my stomach as I fought and failed to prevent huge tears from spilling down my cheeks.
Beryl had been the only one with Mum when she passed away. Dad was on the phone to the doctor and I was preparing lunch in the kitchen. We'd left Beryl painting mum’s nails, not that she seemed aware of it, but she'd always loved having her nails painted. I'll never forget the blood-curdling screams as long as I live.
It had been quick. One minute she was there and the next she'd slipped away. Thankfully she hadn't suffered. The speed with which the cancer had progressed was the hardest thing to deal with. Doctor Jessop said that sometimes an operation can have the opposite effect and can cause the growth to accelerate. But even forewarned—none of us had been prepared.
"That was a lovely speech Simon made, lovey." Beryl finally released me from her arms.
“I know, he's been great. I don't know how I'd have coped without him these past weeks.”
"You'd have coped fine," Vinny snapped.
I hadn't even noticed him standing beside us. Considering his tone, he was still smarting at the idea I'd dumped him for Simon.
"Are you ready to go, Dad?" I asked, ignoring Vinny’s words. "We should get back to the house before anyone arrives." I smiled politely at Vinny and led Beryl and Dad off in search of Simon.
We arrived home soon after. My feet were killing me, and I longed for a soak in the bath but I still had one more hurdle to get over before that would be possible. Mum's final send off.
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