by Peter Martin
‘I’m at my wit’s end – mum’s wasting away. She won’t eat and scarcely drinks anything, and just sits around all day staring into space. She’s seen the doctor, and he’s signed her off work again, but that’s not doing her any good. I need you to come down.’ He stopped there probably thinking it was the last thing his father would be prepared to do.
Bob sighed and walked into the hall to be out of Debra’s earshot. After giving it a few seconds he said, ‘All right Tim, I’m coming down. I’ll be there as soon as I can, tomorrow, if I can square it with my employers.’
‘Dad – do you mean that?’ Tim sounded astonished.
‘I’ve just told you, haven’t I? But I don’t think it will help much.’
‘It will dad, I promise you. But please don’t let her down again, or it might finish her off.’
‘Look, I’ve got enough on my plate at the moment without you trying to coerce me into something. I’ve said I’m coming down, now let that be the end of it. No more questions or answers - you’ll see me when you see me, so you’ll have to be content with that.’
‘Thanks dad, you’re a star. I’m sure everything will be fine now.’
Bob hardly heard Tim’s last sentence as he rang off abruptly. He turned round to see Debra standing in the doorway, a flushed look on her face, and the huge disapproving glare that had a hint of jealousy in it.
‘What the hell was that all in aid of Bob?’ She demanded to know.
‘Nothing much. Maria’s very sick, and she needs me, so I’m going down to Dexford to visit her.’
‘I thought you weren’t having anything to do with them,’ Debra shouted in a very nasty tone of voice.
‘Well, I’ve changed my mind.’
‘Do you want me to come with you?’
‘Not particularly.’
‘Oh – why not?’
‘Because there’s nothing you can do and also because I don’t want you to.’ It was spoken in a harsh manner that made her blink rapidly.
‘Why are you behaving like this?’
After a few seconds hesitation he said, ‘Because you’ve tried to deceive me, lied to me even and that’s something I won’t tolerate.’
‘I don’t know what you’re talking about. Why are you saying these horrible things about me?’ The colour started to drain from her face as realisation struck.
‘Alan’s bloody suicide note – that’s what I’m talking about.’ He shouted through gritted teeth. ‘I read it.’
‘Oh my God, no,’ she whispered, suddenly holding her hand to her mouth. ‘You had no right to read it. It was personal, between me and Alan.’
‘Sure, it did have your name on the envelope, but it was uncanny how I felt compelled to read it and I’m glad I did. You should have told me Alan lied about having an affair with Maria. But then you had everything planned out already, and up until now it’s gone your way.’
Debra gave out a little whimper, and didn’t appear to know what to say.
Then Bob continued, ‘I hoped you might say something when you came back from the police station. I kept waiting and waiting. Praying in fact that you’d tell me the truth. But if you’d revealed what Alan had confessed in his letter you would have given yourself away about knowing the affair was a complete fabrication.’
Debra tried to butt in by saying ‘I can explain…’
But holding his hand up and shaking his head he continued. ‘Now I know that for the past five years you’ve lied. And talking about lying, what’s with ‘the Blackpool affair’? Is it a coincidence that you’ve just come back from another so called conference in Blackpool? Or were you seeing an old flame, or perhaps someone new?’
‘I couldn’t tell you what was in the letter because it would be over between us. I was frightened, I didn’t want to lose you and if I’d told you, I feared you’d go back to her. And I couldn’t bear that.’
‘There never would have been an ‘us’, if you’d been honest wit me five years ago, well you’ve got your comeuppance now haven’t you?’
‘Bob, we need to talk about this –’
‘There’s nothing to talk about – now I’ve found you out to be a liar and that you’ve probably been seeing someone in Blackpool.’ He stormed out of the room, slamming the door in her face. Taking the stairs two at a time he went into the spare room and pulled the largest suitcase from the top of the wardrobe. Then went to their bedroom to pack the case. He didn’t know what Debra would do now, but having said that he didn’t really care.
After emptying the tallboy he turned to the set of draws and took out all the clean clothes he could find, cramming as much in the case as possible. Through the cheval mirror he caught sight of Debra standing in the doorway, arms folded, no doubt wondering to what extent he would take this.
‘Why are you taking so many clothes? How long are you planning to stay?’
‘I’ve already said all I need to, I don’t like being deceived and that’s just what you’ve done for the past five years, and still are if you’re seeing someone else. Which so far you haven’t denied.’
She didn’t reply or disagree with what he’d said, but Bob noticed she was breathing heavily and seemed worried about being found out, but he continued, ‘I’ll be sleeping on the sofa tonight and be gone early tomorrow morning.’
Taking the suitcase downstairs with him he got out a blanket from the cupboard in the hall, then went upstairs again to use the bathroom and as he glanced into their bedroom, Debra was sitting on the bed sobbing. She obviously knew nothing would keep him from leaving now.
After having a light supper he slept surprisingly well that night, despite lying uncomfortably on the sofa.
Early next morning, he washed and dressed himself, grabbed a bite to eat, put his suitcase in the car, and was on his way. He hadn’t caught sight of Debra, but was glad as for the present he’d avoided an awkward confrontation.
As he drove, he couldn’t imagine what would happen now, it hadn’t been an easy decision to make, and he regretted having to break up with Debra. But the same thoughts went round in his head – she’d deceived me; and she was seeing someone else? Has she had other affairs in the past? He always ended up with the same answer: he couldn’t live with a liar and a cheat.
The traffic was bad due to an accident, so it took longer than anticipated to get to Dexford. The weather wasn’t good either, one minute warm and sunny, and the next pouring down with rain. After travelling for some time he realised he had to get something to eat, so he stopped to buy a meal and a lemonade in a pub. An hour later he was on his way again, but made the time up by driving faster.
Bob’s memory of Debra started to fade and in its place came thoughts of Maria and his guilt at ending their relationship so abruptly. To his credit he hadn’t known the real truth, but then he hadn’t tried to get to the bottom of Alan’s accusations either. He felt so foolish and would never forgive himself if something happened to Maria now.
With Dexford fast approaching he wondered how ill she really was, and how much Tim had exaggerated her condition in a desperate effort to get his parents back together again. But he couldn’t blame the lad for doing what he thought was his best for his parents– and it looked as though he’d been right all along.
As he reached the town, despite being in familiar surroundings, Bob needed to consult a street map to find the place where Maria and Tim were staying. It turned out they were living in an older part of the town, close to the school Bob used to go to when he was a kid many years ago. Although not classed a rough rundown area, some of the houses showed signs of neglect. Turning into Orchard Lane, he saw the road was narrow with only just enough room for two cars to pass. The houses were pre-war by the looks of them, most without garages but with sufficient gardens to the front.
Half way along the road, part of the footpath had been made into off road parking so Bob parked the car and got out to walk to number twenty six further up the street. Apparently Tim thought part of his mother’s pro
blems stemmed from her dislike of living in this area.
On reaching the door Bob rattled the letter box as there was no bell at the side. Within seconds, footsteps came thudding down the stairs.
The door opened and there stood Tim, he was smiling with tears of joy in his eyes, leaving no doubts that he was glad to see him.
‘Thank God you’re here dad!’ Tim exclaimed as the two of them greeted each other with a quick hug.
‘I came as soon as I could.’
‘No worries dad, please come in.’ Tim closed the door behind them.
Bob followed his son through the hall and into the living room to see a sparsely furnished room with an old red patterned sofa and a portable television.
As if reading his father’s thoughts, Tim said, ‘It’s a bit bare I’m afraid, but it was all they could find for us for the time being.’
Bob hunched his shoulders saying, ‘So where’s your mum?’
‘Upstairs in her bedroom. She so much wants to see you.’
‘Don’t try to push things son, let them take their natural course.’
Tim didn’t reply and left the room with Bob following close behind him up the uncarpeted stairs. But on entering the bedroom Bob got the shock of his life seeing the emaciated appearance of Maria propped up in bed. He had to stop himself from gaping as he looked at her in disbelief.
Chapter 35
What he was seeing didn’t seem real. Her face was what his mother might have called ‘pasty’, the eyes seemed to be sunken over prominent cheekbones and he couldn’t believe how much weight she’d lost.
‘Why don’t you sit down by the side of the bed, dad?’ Tim suggested, fetching him a chair.
Bob felt a lump in his throat, as he took hold of one of her bony hands, and squeezed it gently. She didn’t reciprocate the gesture.
‘Oh Maria, what’s happened to you?’
She looked almost too ill to answer; perhaps embarrassed too, Bob thought, not wanting him to see her like this. Then as she glanced over at Tim rather than in his direction, he said, ‘I’m pleased Tim is looking after you, Maria. But he can’t do it on his own; you have to help yourself too. Please try to pull yourself together, eh love.’
She turned away from him, eyes filling with tears.
‘When did she last see a doctor?’ He asked Tim.
‘A couple of days ago, he said mum had a virus, and didn’t seem too bothered about it. But he did suggest if her mood doesn’t improve I can collect a prescription from the surgery for stronger antidepressants – but so far she’s been reluctant to agree.’ Tim looked at his mother, ‘Haven’t you mum?’
‘Yes.’
‘So what are you doing? You’re giving her meals she likes I take it, cooking them how she wants and so on?’
‘Yes, but the doctor advised me to get some Complan.’ To which Bob nodded. ‘Which I have, but apart from that no matter what I give her, she picks at it and says she’s not hungry.’
‘I’m baffled, it’s a mystery, it really is,’ Bob scratched the back of his head, and still sitting on the side of the bed continued, ‘Maria, please try to eat before something serious happens.’
Maria didn’t reply.
‘Dad, what can we do?’
‘Keep trying. With both of us here, we can make a difference. I’ll be here for as long as it takes.’
Tim’s eyes widened, and a look of delight came over his face. Maybe he’d got what he’d wanted, but Bob hadn’t expected the lad to be this ecstatic.
‘So how about I get everybody a drink?’ Tim suggested. ‘Will a cup of Ovaltine do you dad? Mum used to love it, didn’t you mum?’
Maria indicated yes.
‘Thanks son. I was wrong about you – you’re doing your mum proud.’ Bob dropped his eyes slightly.
‘That’s all right dad. I admit I overstepped the mark once or twice, but I did have your best interests at heart. All I can do is to try to make it up to you now.’
While Tim went away to make the drinks, Bob looked long and hard at Maria, frightened and shocked by the change in her.
‘I’m so sorry,’ he whispered to her, taking hold of her hand again.
Tears slipped down her cheeks, she looked so sad but this time found the strength to squeeze his hand.
‘Tim!’ she mouthed with a smile.
‘Yes, I’ve misjudged him. He and I will help you get better, I promise.’
‘Keep feeling sick,’ she whispered.
They heard Tim coming back up the stairs. He pushed open the door and handed them both a mug of Ovaltine from the tray he was carrying.
Bob took a sip of his, noticing how sweet it was, just as he liked it. He was surprised Tim had remembered, it showed the lad was thinking about him too.
Having finished his own, he encouraged Maria to drink hers. She did but slowly, leaving just a little in the bottom of the mug. Bob felt relieved at this and sensed his presence might do her some good.
Then he told them about Alan and Debra. ‘I made a terrible mistake, and treated you abysmally – and I’m going to regret it for the rest of my life. I’m begging for your forgiveness, Maria, even though I don’t deserve it. You’ll probably find it impossible after all this time, but I’d like us to be friends, if nothing else.’ And turning to Tim said, ‘What do you think?’
‘It’s what I’ve dreamed of ever since I came back.’
‘But don’t expect miracles, and you won’t be disappointed.’
‘I told you about Debra, but you wouldn’t have it.’
‘Yes, that’s getting to be a habit, not trusting my own family, and it’s got to stop.’
Tim gave his dad a little squeeze of the shoulder. Bob smiled, before looking at Maria, who seemed lethargic and in need of a rest.
Later as Maria lay back on the bed, Bob yawned, and stretched his legs. Perhaps the long journey from Cliffburn was taking its toll on him.
‘How about another drink dad?’
‘No, it’s all right. I feel a bit sleepy – must be all that driving.’
‘Why don’t you rest dad? You and mum can chat while I get on with cooking you a meal. I do like looking after mum, but I wish she’d get better.’
‘She will in time.’ Bob smiled yawning again.
‘I’ll see you later then.’
Bob nodded.
He moved closer to Maria who seemed to be looking at him strangely. He touched her arm and gazed at her with a concerned smile.
‘I love you,’ he told her simply. ‘And so does Tim. You’ve been through a lot with what’s happened to your parents, but you still have Tim and me.’
‘I do so want to get well again,’ she whispered. ‘But I feel sick when I try to eat. Bob – what’s wrong with me?’
‘What did the doctor…’ he trailed off, unable to finish his sentence as an overwhelming desire to sleep came over him. It had to be all the stress of recent events as well as the long jaunt from Cliffburn. He curled up and dozed off on the bed.
A little time later someone tugged him by the sleeve of his jumper. He didn’t want to wake up, but opened his eyes as Tim said, ‘Dad, don’t go to sleep on me man. What’s the matter with you? Hey, come on, I’ve spent ages cooking you and mum a meal and this is how you thank me.’
‘Sorry son, don’t know what came over me – I suddenly couldn’t stay awake. Here, let me help you.’ Bob stood up unsteadily from the edge of the bed.
There were three trays, one on the bed, the other two on the set of draws, all with bangers, mash and baked beans.
‘The plates with four bangers are yours and mine; mum’s is the one with three on it.’
Bob felt a little disorientated as he picked up Maria’s tray to place on her lap. Tim had brought in two chairs earlier on and was already tucking in to his own meal.
As soon as Bob sat down his head was fuzzy and he said, ‘Phew, I don’t seem to have any energy at all.’
‘Come on dad, what’s the matter with you? What’s happened
to your staying power? Must be age catching up you.’
‘Very funny.’
‘Hey, I reckon I’m getting quite a dab hand at cooking. Mum gave me lots of tips, taught me really well, but I can only cook simple things, I haven’t quite mastered the casseroles and meat pies she used to make yet.’
But Bob didn’t comment as he’d noticed his wife’s fretful face.
‘I can’t eat any more.’
‘Don’t worry - at least you’ve had something. No point in trying to force yourself,’ Bob told her. ‘But it may be better to give you smaller portions, and a few snacks in between.’
It didn’t take Bob long to finish his meal, it had been some hours since he’d eaten in the pub. Placing his knife and fork on the plate he got up and collected the three trays, piling them up to take downstairs.
After finding his way to the kitchen he placed the dirty crockery and cutlery in the bowl ready to wash up. He turned round to find Tim had followed him down and was standing by the side of the fridge.
‘All right dad?’
Bob had been in another world. Tim jolted him out of it, ‘What! Oh it’s just that I feel bad over how I’ve acted towards you and your mum. Why I was like it, I can’t say.’ His eyes looked down to the floor.
‘Don’t be ridiculous dad, you only did what you thought was right. No one can blame you for that.’
‘Maybe I did, but why could I not trust both of you? That’s what’s getting to me. And then to be so gullible - why I must have been somewhere else.’
Tim smiled. ‘Just forget about it. At least you’re here now. How about a yoghurt? I don’t suppose mum will want one. Although we can but try.’
Bob raised his eyebrows. ‘Yeah you can – you never know.’
They went back upstairs together, to find Maria fast sleep.
‘Trust your mother to go to sleep on me. I wanted to talk to her…’
‘Never mind dad, there’s always tomorrow. Why don’t we watch telly up here like we used to in the old house? I’ll keep the volume down low.’ Pointing to his mum asleep on the bed.
‘Glad you still remember the good old days.’ Bob said sitting down on the edge of the bed, to eat his yoghurt.