Change Of Life

by Anne Stormont

  “Not worried about going away, are you?”

  “No, not really. I want to go to uni – to St Andrews – it’s just…”

  “What? It’s just what?”

  “It’s Mum - I’m worried about her – and I’m worried about you – both of you – if you’ll get back together. I can’t really get into uni and all that stuff. I need to know Mum’s going to be all right and that you – well – you know…”

  “Oh, Sam, I know it’s hard - but really – try not to worry. Mum’s over the worst and me and her – well – we’re going to meet up as soon as she’s strong enough – and we’ll sort ourselves out.”

  I wasn’t sure how convincing I sounded. I glanced sideways at Adam, concerned he’d heard my conversation with Sam, but he was oblivious – eyes shut, drumming on his leg and moving along to his music.

  Next time I looked at Sam she too had her i-pod on. She saw my look in the mirror and gave me a little smile. I smiled back and told myself she’d be all right.

  The roads were fairly quiet and we arrived in St Andrews in a little over an hour.

  It was a bright autumn day and the east wind was bitingly cold as we unloaded all Sam’s stuff at the halls of residence. She seemed to brighten a little as the three of us carried everything indoors. She was in the newest of the university’s residences, on the North Haugh and she was pleased with her room.

  We went for lunch in the town and I couldn’t quite believe that the three of us were doing this very ordinary thing. Six months ago I’d probably have left it to Rosie to take Sam up, and I’d have got on with paperwork or gone to the hospital.

  And more recently I would’ve found it difficult to believe that Adam would volunteer to take a trip with me. I hoped there was no hidden agenda on his part, and that he wasn’t planning to tell me a few home truths before announcing his permanent departure. But he seemed fairly chilled and, though he didn’t directly engage me in conversation, he laughed and chatted with his sister as he ate his pub meal.

  The intensity that was part of what made him Adam was still there, but I got the impression that he could cope with it now, cope with himself. His former tense demeanour was mostly gone. I realised he’d achieved this new way of being through his own efforts, on his own terms. I was definitely going to leave him be.

  As for Sam, I was quite overcome with pride, pride in her achievement in getting to this university, but much more than that. I felt pride in how she’d matured over the summer and taken on so much of her mother’s role. In May, she’d seemed so self-centred and carefree that it was hard to believe how much she’d changed in a short time. I hoped she wouldn’t worry too much about Rosie and me and that she’d get back some of that earlier, blithe, untroubled quality, as she set out on student life.

  After lunch we went for a walk round the town. We visited the quad in North Street and located the various buildings where Sam would be having lectures and tutorials. We found the library and the student union and then made our way back to the residence. There, Sam met a girl from school who was going to be living just down the hallway from her. After an enthusiastic greeting, the girls talked excitedly of the hall and freshers’ events and the joy of finally getting started on their adventure. This was more like the old Sam and it was great to see. The girls arranged to meet up half an hour later to compare notes. It seemed like a good time to leave her to it. And so we said our goodbyes.

  I hugged her close and told her I loved her. “If there’s anything – anything at all you need, or if you’re unhappy - or anything – you call me – and I’ll be here – promise?”

  “I’ll be fine, Dad. But thanks – for today and for the last few months and – everything. You’re the best Dad and I love you.”

  “And you promise you’ll tell me the minute you need me to do anything?”

  “Yes – if you promise me something.”

  “Anything-”

  “Talk to Mum – get you and Mum sorted.”

  “I promise,” I said.

  Then she hugged Adam. “And you – you be good. And look after Dad for me.”

  Adam tolerated being hugged and said, “I’ll try, sis. You be good too. And if you don’t want the old guy to rescue you, then call me.”

  “I will,” she said, laughing.

  I laughed too. “Cheeky bugger,” I said to Adam. “And less of the old!”

  God – just that little bit of banter with my son –it felt so good.

  We waved until we were out of sight. I’d always felt a strong bond with Sam, but had feared she’d grown away from me in her later teenage years. However, the last few months did seem to have made the bond stronger than ever. I was so torn between the feelings of rightness and pride in my daughter leaving and the need to keep her close and safe.

  “She’ll be okay, Dad,” Adam said, once we were in the car.

  “You think so?” I said, as we pulled away.

  “Yeah, I do. And I’ll be okay too.”

  “Yes, I think you will, son.” I smiled at him, but my heart was thumping.

  “And what about you and Mum – will you two be okay?”

  “I really don’t know – if you mean as a couple. Mum’s getting over the infection and I’m sure she’ll beat the cancer too. But we’ve still got a lot to talk about. And I think your Mum may have discovered that she’s happier not living with me.”

  “But what about you, Dad – would you be happier – away from Mum?”

  “Well, I sort of did a deal actually.”

  “What sort of deal?”

  “I told God, that if the price for Mum getting better was that I had to let her go, then I’d pay that price. And if he wants to hold me to the deal – well that’s fine.”

  I glanced at Adam when he didn’t reply. He was looking out the window. We drove on in silence for a few minutes, but it was a companionable silence. I felt quite calm as the car purred along.

  Then Adam spoke. “That was a stupid deal and God is stupid if he made the deal. What if he made her better so that you two could get back together – had you thought of that?”

  “No – no I hadn’t,” I replied, smiling at him. “You could well be right. Thank you for that, son, thank you.”

  And so, Adam gave me a wee bit of renewed hope. It was true that when Rosie had said she was intending to come on the St Andrews trip, I had dared to hope that there was a thaw and that she was moving closer, ready to listen and to talk. But as she began to recover from the infection, I sensed she’d withdrawn again. I’d been prepared to back off. However, Adam’s insight made me resolve not to give up just yet.

  A little while later, Adam said, “Where are you staying tonight?”

  “At the flat,” I replied.

  “Can I crash with you then?”

  I struggled to keep driving in a straight line. “Yes, yes, of course you can. That would be great.”

  And, if Adam’s plans for that night were a shock, there was more to come. We were a few miles north of the Forth Road Bridge when Adam spoke again.

  “I want to come home, Dad.”

  For a moment, I thought he was still talking about coming back to the flat that night. He guessed as much. I could see him, out of the corner of my eye, looking at me.

  “No, not to the flat – that’s just tonight. I mean I want to come home to our house, if that’s all right?”

  Once again I had to struggle to focus on my driving. But it was no use. The tears in my eyes made it difficult to see. I tried wiping at them with the back of my hand but they were instantly replaced. I had to get off the motorway. I pulled over on to the hard shoulder and flicked on the hazards. I took off my seatbelt and turned to face Adam.

  I cleared my throat. “Of course it’s all right, but are you sure you want to?”

  Adam reached into the glove box and produced a handful of paper hankies. “Here,” he said, handing them to me. “Yes I’m sure. I’ve missed you, Dad – and Mum and the girls of course – even the mun
chkin – but if it’s going to upset you this much...” he gave a little smile.

  I shook my head. “Oh, don’t read too much into this.” I pointed at my face. “Something in my eye, would you believe? I don’t do crying.” I managed to smile.

  Adam laughed. “Yeah right!”

  “It would be great to have you back home. We’ve – I’ve missed you too – a hell of a lot, actually. But I thought you were happy at Ruby’s.”

  “I was – I am. Ruby’s cool and all that. I’ve been able to think about stuff at her place.” He was quiet for a few moments. Then he spoke again. “Robbie’s cool too, Dad – don’t you think?”

  “Yes, I do.”

  “We weren’t very nice to him at first, were we?”

  “No, son – we weren’t.”

  “But it’s all right now. It was Robbie, you know, that told me to come and see you and Mum at the flat. He said how worried you’d all been about me and that I had a cool family. He said he had a cool family too and he wasn’t going to be spoiling ours.”

  “Right – so you don’t see him as a threat any more then?”

  “No – and neither should you, Dad. I know you kept him a secret and everything and Mum is really mad at you about that. But once you explain, she’ll understand – like Robbie explained to me. I hate it when people don’t explain what’s going on – it’s scary - and then when you’re scared you get mad.”

  I could only nod. I swallowed hard and looked at my son. “Come here, you,” I said and for the first time in a very long time I embraced my boy – and he let me. In fact he didn’t just let me – he hugged me back – hard. When we moved apart we both needed some of those hankies from the glove box.

  It was beginning to get dark, and I knew we should get on our way, but I sensed Adam had more to say and I didn’t want to break the spell. “There’s a café not far from here – just at the Kelty turn off. Do you fancy grabbing a snack?”

  “Yeah, sounds good.”

  It wasn’t long before we were settled in the warm cafe with steaming hot mugs of tea and a huge slab of chocolate cake for Adam. He demolished the cake in about ten seconds and I just watched in awe. I’d forgotten how he hoovered up food.

  After a couple of mouthfuls of tea he said, “I’ve been to Robbie’s house a few times. His mum and dad are nice and his sister, Julie – she’s cool too.”

  Adam smiled as he mentioned Julie’s name. I smiled too.

  “Yes, the Sutherlands are good people,” I said.

  “So, if it’s all right with you, I’ll move back next weekend. It’s my weekend off from the karting centre, and Julie’s off too, so she said she’d give me a hand with my stuff.”

  “Right, and have you told Ruby you’re coming home?”

  “Yes, I told her. She said she was surprised it had taken me this long to realise what I was missing at home. Ruby and her family have been really good to me, but they weren’t you – weren’t us. It wasn’t the same. Do you know what I mean?”

  “Yes, I do.”

  “Julie said I was lucky – to have a family who loves me. Her real parents didn’t love her. They hit her and didn’t look after her, didn’t feed her or give her proper clothes or anything. She doesn’t see why I had to run away from a dad like you - and I can see what she means.” He cleared his throat.

  So did I. We both took a gulp of tea.

  Then he continued, “Julie – she’s – well she’s sort of my girlfriend, you see.”

  “I see.” I nodded, smiling at him again.

  “Anyway, Julie and me are doing up an old car with Bob – Mr Sutherland – and, when it’s safe and ready for the road, Bob says Julie can have it. She’s just passed her test and I’m going to apply to do mine soon.”

  “So, Julie’s into cars too?”

  “Oh yes. She’s so cool. She’s not like Jen and Sam into all that girlie rubbish, she’s not always talking about clothes and make up. She’s really into engines and stuff. She’s going to college this year, to get the grades she needs to do mechanical engineering at uni. She’s found school hard, like me. She’s not dyslexic, but she sort of had a bad start in life and she found it hard to catch up. But now she knows what she wants to do, she says she’s going for it.”

  I’d never heard him talk so much about anything in his life. I didn’t want it to stop. I got us more tea.

  “Julie says I should go to college too,” Adam continued. “She brought home the book thing that explains about courses. There’s a mechanics one that sounds really good and Julie says there’s tutors at the college that help you if you have dyslexia. I’m going to see about enrolling tomorrow morning – Julie’s coming with me.”

  I nodded – amazed and proud – but not trusting myself to speak. Fortunately, Adam wasn’t waiting for a verbal response. He wasn’t finished yet.

  “Bob says I’m a born mechanic and he says he can see where I get it from.”

  “Oh, where?”

  “From you – he says I’m really patient and good with the fiddly stuff and have great dex – dexi something…”

  “Dexterity,” I offered.

  “Yes – dexterity – surgeon’s hands, he says. He reckons an engine’s like a heart, and you need the same sort of skills to rebuild them and keep them going.”

  I swallowed hard. “It sounds like you’ve made the right decision then – to train as a mechanic.”

  “Yes – I never thought I could. I thought I was too thick to do anything much. I’ve known for a long time that I wouldn’t get into uni - and I didn’t want to go anyway, but I didn’t know what else I could do. Bob says he’ll take me into the bus depot to see what goes on there - and he has a pal who’s got a garage down at Granton where I could maybe do some work experience.”

  “You have got yourself sorted out, haven’t you?” I said.

  “Yeah, I have, Dad – and now it’s your turn.”

  I nodded. “Yes, son, I believe it is.”

  “Right, I’ll pay for this,” he said. “Then we should get on the road. It’ll soon be dinner time and I’m starving.”

  I thought of the cake he’d just devoured and smiled to myself.

  Once we were back at the flat, I phoned Ruby to tell her Adam was staying the night. I also told her about what he’d said in the car. I told her that thank you was totally inadequate for expressing my gratitude to her and her family. To say I was tired and emotional that evening doesn’t really cover it.

  However – tired as I was - I knew Rosie would want to know how today had gone. I phoned the hospital. Rosie was sleeping. She’d had a lot of visitors during the day and was very tired. The nurse said it would be best not to come in and to let Rosie rest. She assured me if Rosie awoke, she’d give her the message that everything had gone fine. I decided to keep Adam’s news for when I saw her face to face.

  By the time I was off the phone, Adam had rooted out the takeaway menus that Rick had accumulated in the kitchen drawer. He’d already made his choice – an Indian - and was on his mobile ordering for the two of us.

  “I couldn’t wait,” he said. “I ordered you the lamb bhuna – that’s still your favourite, right?”

  “Certainly is,” I answered, ridiculously pleased, not just that he remembered this fact but that he knew it in the first place. “There’s a couple of beers in the fridge. Do you fancy one?”

  “Yeah, cool,” he nodded and switched on the television.

  We watched a movie while we ate – Austin Powers in Goldmember. We both laughed at exactly the same bits. It was magic.

  The next morning, I was up early. I’d not slept very well, as the events of the day went round and round in my head. But by morning I’d made some decisions.

  First off, I wanted to make Adam breakfast before he left to meet Julie at the college. I did us the works – bacon, eggs, fried bread – the lot – not good for my heart specialist credentials, I know – but good for the soul. It was especially good for my soul, watching Adam tucking i
n and enjoying the food I’d prepared for him.

  “That was ace, Dad,” he said, wiping up the last of his eggs with his bread. “Didn’t know you could cook like that.”

  “Oh, I’ve been learning. I’m quite proud of myself, actually. I can produce a few good dishes now.”

  “Well if they’re all like that – I’m glad I’m coming home.” He glanced at his watch. “I better get away – don’t want to miss my chance to get signed up.”

  As he stood up to go, he caught me looking at him.

  “What?” he asked.

  “Oh, nothing,” I replied. “Only – well – it’s just – I’m very proud of you, Adam.”

  “Daft bugger,” he said, but he was grinning broadly.

  After Adam left, I cleared away the breakfast things and gave the flat a bit of a clean up. Then I packed up my stuff, but I didn’t head straight for the car. I found myself gazing out of the window, then pacing, then back at the window again. I was keen to be on my way, but I was also procrastinating. I knew I should phone Bruce. Now that I’d finally made up my mind, I owed it to him to give him as much warning as possible. I turned from the window, pulled my mobile from my pocket and called his direct line. He was slow to answer and I almost hung up.

  “I don’t quite know how to tell you this,” I said, without preamble. “But I’m not coming in tomorrow. In fact I’m not coming in for the next month.”

  “Right, that’s-”

  “I’m taking compassionate leave for the next fortnight, right up until my annual leave starts.”

  “Okay I’m-”

  “I’m sorry, Bruce. I know this will make things really difficult – with Anna’s leave coming up – but the truth is I’m not up to the job at the moment.”

  “Look, Tom, don’t worry-”

  “But-”

  “Tom, Tom, let me speak!” he laughed.

  I hadn’t exactly expected him to laugh.

  “It’s okay, really,” he went on. “I’ve been expecting this. I’d already started making contingency plans.”

  “Oh, right.”

  “I’m just surprised it’s taken you this long,” he said.

  “Ah.” I gave a little laugh.

  “What?”