Change Of Life

by Anne Stormont

When my mother phoned later, I asked her if she’d stayed with the children while Rosie broke the news. She said she hadn’t, that she and Kirsty had dropped the children off and then gone for a walk in the Hermitage Park nearby, and from there to a coffee shop. She said that Rosie’d wanted to be alone with the children. I didn’t say that Rosie hadn’t been alone. My mother didn’t mention Rick, and I felt sure she was unaware he’d been there.

  I phoned Kirsty after speaking to my mother. I thanked her for what she’d done that day. She said that was what friends were for and it was a small thing to do. She didn’t mention Rick either and, for some reason, I couldn’t bring myself to ask her if she knew anything.

  When I called Rosie the following morning, I told myself that I was just phoning to check how she was, and to tell her about my visit to the Sutherlands, and to Adam. But I knew that what I really wanted to do was to suggest going to see her. I wanted to see her face to face and tell her about my visits the day before. But I also wanted to tell her all the stuff that had happened with Heather seventeen years before. And I wanted to see if she’d tell me about Rick.

  The conversation began pleasantly enough. Rosie wanted to know how the children were. I told her they were coping and that I realised the previous day must have been very difficult for her. I asked how she was doing. She said she was very tired.

  I told her how I’d got on with Adam – leaving out my pathetic pleadings. She was concerned about how he’d taken the news of her illness. I tried to put as positive a spin as I could on what he’d said. She was grateful I’d told him. She seemed to accept I’d done my best.

  She asked me to explain, again, to Jenny and Max that she wouldn’t be at their end of term plays and prize-givings. Apart from not feeling up to it, she’d been advised to avoid large gatherings of people because of her lowered immunity due to the chemo. She said she’d tried to explain it to the children already, but she wasn’t sure they’d taken it in.

  She was keen to hear how the meal with Robbie had gone, and was surprised and interested when I told her about meeting his parents.

  It was when I asked if I could see her later that things deteriorated. “I’d like to come to the flat, Rosie. I’d like to see you. I can tell you about the Sutherlands - and all the stuff that happened around the time Robbie was born – I need to tell you more about that.”

  She hesitated before she answered. “I don’t know - it’s…”

  “Please, Rosie.” I’d like to see you. I came to see you yesterday, actually. I had this - I needed to be with you and the kids.”

  “You came yesterday? When?”

  “In the afternoon – on my way back from the Sutherlands – I got as far as the stair door. I looked in the window. I saw him, Rosie. I saw Rick – with you and the children. So-”

  “So – what?”

  “So I didn’t – I couldn’t come in.”

  “Why not? Why couldn’t you?”

  “Because he was there, Rosie - Rick was there – he had his arm round you. I thought-”

  “You thought what, Tom? What did you think?” She sounded angry now.

  “I don’t – I didn’t-”

  “You think me and Rick - you think we’re together – in a relationship – a sexual relationship – don’t you?”

  I was thrown by her directness. “Yes – no – I mean I-”

  “Fuck off, Tom! Fuck off! How dare you? How dare you spy on me and then make assumptions and judgements? After what you’ve done!”

  “I didn’t – I wasn’t – I …I thought he was away…”

  “Rick is home just now – home here at the flat. Remember it’s his home – he pays us rent?” She sounded sarcastic now. “He arrived back last week. And it’s been good to have him around. He’s been very understanding about my – my situation.”

  “Well, that’s nice for you.” Now who was being sarcastic?

  “Yes, it is. It’s very nice actually. We’re going out for a short walk and then he’s going to cook – see if he can tempt me to eat. So don’t come to the flat, Tom. It’s not convenient and I really don’t want you to.”

  “Please, Rosie – I need to see you. I could go for a walk with you, cook you something – you don’t need Rick Montgomery to do that. I love you, Rosie – please.”

  “Tom, no – I can’t see you just now. If you really do love me, then please leave me be.”

  “I don’t want to. I want you to be with you. We need to talk at least.”

  “I know we do – but not yet, Tom. I’m not ready. I need to be by myself for now.”

  “But you’re not by yourself are you? You’re with him – with Rick.”

  “You’re being ridiculous. I’m not with Rick – not in the way you mean.”

  “What am I supposed to think, Rosie?”

  “I don’t know, Tom. That’s up to you and whether you trust me. It’s not a nice feeling is it – not knowing whether your partner can be trusted,” she spoke more quietly now. “Look, I have to go. Thanks for letting me know about the children and for telling Adam. I’m glad about you and Robbie and the Sutherlands. It’s great – really.”

  “Yes, but...”

  “And I do need you to let me know how the children are – I mean how they really are. I know they’ll put on a brave face for me. So do keep calling me. And keep in touch with Adam – keep trying with him - you’ll do that, won’t you?

  “Of course I will.”

  “Good – but please, Tom, don’t come round. Please, promise me you’ll let me do things my way for now.”

  “I don’t understand – this need you have to be away from us, from me. I just want to take care of you.”

  “I know you do. That’s how we got into this mess, Tom – you taking care of things and me letting you. So can you promise to let me take care of myself for now?”

  Reluctantly, I promised.

  Chapter Twenty Eight

  For the first few days after their visit to Rosie, Max and the girls were in shock.

  Max asked lots of questions and got very cross if I couldn’t give definitive and positive answers. Like Adam, he wanted me to answer the question of whether his mother would die from her cancer with an unequivocal no. He wanted to know exactly how long his mother would be ill. He wanted to know why I wasn’t treating her and making her better. He wanted to know why she wasn’t coming home and having me as her doctor. These and other questions were asked several times over and on different occasions. They’d be reworded and reframed, as if, by reshaping them, he would get a different and more acceptable answer. I didn’t want to mislead him or give him false hope, but I also wanted to give him something to hold onto. I don’t think I made a good job of it.

  One evening, about two weeks after Rosie told the children she was ill, and just after he’d returned from staying with Rosie for several days, Max came through to the den. I was busy doing some paperwork. He was in his pyjamas, standing just inside the door and his expression was fearful, almost haunted.

  “Does the doctor that’s treating Mum really know what he’s doing?” he asked, yet again.

  “Yes, Maxy, as I’ve said before, he’s one of the best there is.”

  “And have the other people that he’s treated – who had the same as Mum – have they got better?”

  I so wanted to lie – but I knew I mustn’t. “Well, yes, he has made some of them better.”

  “But not all?”

  No, Max, not all. But I’m sure he’ll do his best to make Mum - feel better.”

  His face flushed and he started to cry. I went to get up, to console him, but he flew into a rage, pummelling the sofa with his fists and feet. I let him go, let him get it all out.

  Eventually he said, “But will he be able to cure Mum? Will he? What if he can’t? What if he can’t?” He was all anger and fear. His eyes were huge and there was such pain on his face.

  I got up and went to him. I put my arms round him. He hammered at my chest with his fists. He tried
to push me away but I held on tight as he sobbed and shouted, “No, no,” and “Mum, Mum.”

  When he was exhausted and offering no resistance, I guided him over to the battered old sofa under the window and sat with him. He leant against me and I stroked his hair. He wept quietly and for a long time. In the end he fell asleep there on the sofa. I picked him up and carried him upstairs to his room.

  As I bent to put him into his bed he opened his eyes and whispered, “Your bed.” So I took him through and placed him on Rosie’s side of our bed. “Love you, Dad,” he said as he settled in under the duvet.

  From then on it became a regular thing for Max to sleep beside me. He would appear during the night and climb in the bed. He seemed, at those times, to be in a semi-sleepwalking state. It didn’t bother me to have him with me. In fact it was a comfort to me too. I’d been finding it increasingly difficult to sleep alone in the big, empty bed.

  The girls on the other hand were quiet and didn’t share their worries very readily with me. They talked to each other about Rosie’s cancer and I know they looked up breast cancer on the internet. They were very sweet with me, very sensitive to how I might be feeling.

  One time, during the first couple of weeks after hearing of their mother’s illness, I walked in on them in the den and they were at the computer. They quickly closed down what they were looking at - but not before I noticed that it was the Cancerbackup website that they’d been on.

  They talked to my mother about the disease and about Rosie’s chances of survival. It was she who confirmed that they were doing their own research because they didn’t want to upset me.

  Sam swung between wanting to be with her mother and feeling very angry and resentful at Rosie’s absence. One day I came home earlier than expected and found Sam sitting in the living room crying. She tried hard to cover up the fact she was upset, but I couldn’t play along. My heart went out to her and I couldn’t pretend not to have noticed her distress.

  “What’s wrong, sweetheart?” I sat down and slipped my arm round her shoulders. It turned out she’d been to see Rosie that day. Rosie’d been feeling unwell and her hair had started to fall out. She’d had her second dose of chemo earlier that week.

  “I hate seeing her like that, Dad. She seems so weak – not like Mum at all.”

  I hugged her. “I know. It’s the treatment – the chemo. Try not to worry. Once she’s finished the course she’ll get stronger.”

  “But you didn’t see her, Dad. She kept being sick and she’s really thin. You should go and see her. You’d know what to do, wouldn’t you – if you saw her?”

  I shrugged. “I don’t think…”

  “You could persuade her to come home – if you really tried. She’s being stupid – being angry about you and Robbie. She should’ve got over that by now.”

  “ It’s not only about me not telling her about Robbie. There’s more to it than that.” I wanted Sam to understand, but I couldn’t tell her what Rosie suspected about me and Heather, or about how much she resented my over-protective attitude. “I’m not what your Mum needs right now. I promised her I’d let her do this her way – on her own.”

  “Well you shouldn’t have promised!” Sam left, slamming the door behind her.

  I agreed with Sam. I wished I hadn’t promised to stay away and I desperately wanted to see Rosie and to help her. I hadn’t seen her for about three weeks at that point – not since the day I’d told her about Adam and she’d told me she was ill.

  Fortunately, Sam did not remain angry with me for long. Later, the same day, she came and put her head round the door of the den. “Sorry, Dad,” she said.

  I stood up and held out my arms to her. “Come here. I’m sorry too,” I said, as we hugged.

  “You don’t need to be sorry, Dad. I’m just worried about Mum and I wish she was here with us.”

  “I know you do, love. We all want her well and home. But we have to be patient and give her the time and space she needs.”

  “It’s just – it’s hard – you know?” Sam was crying again. All I could do was hold her.

  Jenny was probably the strongest of all of us. Although she could be very intense and serious about all sorts of things and had a very sensitive nature, she was also very strong and determined. She was just as worried about her mother as the rest of us and she missed her twin terribly, but she was able to channel her worry and concern into practical action.

  For Rosie, Jenny researched breast cancer treatments and sources of support. Jenny’d been learning to drive since her birthday, the previous April, and she got me and her Uncle Dan to take her out for practice sessions. In the middle of July she passed her test first time. I told her about the Maggie’s Centre – a place of respite for cancer patients at the hospital - and suggested she might like to drive Rosie there, which she did. She also drove Rosie to her chemotherapy appointments on a few occasions.

  But, it was in her efforts to get Adam back home and communicating with his mother, that Jenny was at her most indefatigable. Jenny’d always been protective of her twin brother. Adam didn’t speak until he was nearly four and, up till then, Jenny did all his talking for him. Even once he started talking, she continued to speak up for him, if she thought his needs weren’t being met. She’d interpret his mood for the uncomprehending adults at home and nursery school, telling us when he was hungry, or tired or scared. She also stood up for him if another child looked as if they might be about to bully or hurt her brother – even if she got into trouble for being over zealous in her protection. And Jenny continued to feel she had to look out for her brother, even into their teenage years. She said to me that she felt guilty she hadn’t realised how Adam was feeling before he ran away. She was annoyed at herself for being so wrapped up in her show rehearsals that she didn’t notice he wasn’t at school. No amount of reassurance from me would ease her sense of having failed her brother.

  So she made it her mission to get Adam talking to Rosie and to get him to come home. She went to see him regularly at Ruby’s. At first she went alone. Then later she got Robbie and Eilidh to go with her on some of the visits. Kirsty’s daughter, Eilidh, was one of Jenny’s closest friends. Jenny explained that Eilidh being there made the visits less intense. She also said that Eilidh was someone who Adam liked and trusted. She was sure that if Adam got to know Robbie, he’d be much more relaxed about coming home. Sometimes they all hung out at Ruby’s, but at other times the three of them would visit Adam at the karting centre. They’d even been to Robbie’s house on a couple of occasions.

  Apart from our worries about Adam and Rosie, the rest of us - Sam, Jenny, Max and I, got along quite well. Ruby propped us up with her sheer common sense and practical support. Her unyielding positivity was refreshing and energizing. She watched over Adam and, although, at the time, we missed having him with us at home, he was in the best place. It was good Jenny was seeing him, but if he’d been at home the strain would have been unbearable for both of us. I think we’d have continued to argue and resolved nothing. I’d have been impatient with him and he’d have dug his heels in. It would also have been difficult to have Robbie round and get to know him.

  There really was no thank you big enough to express my gratitude to Ruby for what she did that summer. But when I tried to tell her so she’d just shake her head and walk away, embarrassed.

  In the last week before school broke up, I went along to Max’s school concert and Primary Seven presentation. I felt very proud of him as he was awarded his graduation certificate and his book token. He also took part in a leavers’ rap – he’d written it with his friends Connor and Neil. He brought the house down with his impressions of various members of staff.

  I also visited Rosie’s class, one afternoon, to deliver a letter from her to them. I’d been a bit apprehensive about doing this, but Rosie was very keen that I go in person with the letter, and it felt good to be able to do something for her. It was scary speaking to the class, but they were thrilled to hear from her an
d had made her a card. I hadn’t realised how loved she was as a teacher, another humbling experience in what was becoming a long list for me.

  During the same week I went to see Jenny in Grease, at her school. I thought she was the best actress and singer in it, of course. It was nice to be at the school for a happy reason. My previous couple of visits had been to discuss Adam’s situation,

  and to get the school to agree to hold his place until the new session.

  I videoed both Max’s and Jenny’s performances for Rosie to watch, and I heard from the children that all three of them enjoyed an evening at the flat spent watching the footage.

  As the summer progressed, I settled into my job share with Anna. She’d been taken aback when I asked her about job sharing the consultant’s post. But she’d been very happy about it, once she got over the shock.

  Sam continued to do a lot of the domestic work at home, but she and Ruby also took me in hand and trained me up in the many tasks that had hitherto been a mystery to me. I was soon able to do the weekly shop at the supermarket and to both load and set off the washing machine.

  Sam, Ruby, my mother and I also made sure that one of us was always around for Max, when he wasn’t staying with Rosie. Andy was enlisted to teach me the rudiments of cooking and Sheena supplied several more recipes. I took Sheena out for a meal as a thank you for her life-saving coq au vin recipe. We spent a very pleasant evening. Sheena was good company, and I saw a much more relaxed side to her than I did at work.

  My mother supported me in my efforts to get the garden into some sort of order and I conscripted Max to help me. I felt connected to Rosie while I worked amongst her beloved plants. It was like it gave me something tangible to offer her. And it was also good fun to be working with Ma and Max.

  About half way through the school holidays Max, his friend Neil and I went away for a few days camping up north. Dan and Andy came along too. I actually enjoyed our time away and I think Max did too. The five of us had a lot of laughs and it was good to see Max enjoying himself. For me it was good to get a break from the house.