by Sue Shepherd
‘I thought you weren’t going to tell her.’
‘I’m not. I just can’t believe how awful everything is.’ Beth whispered, ‘Please wake up, Nanna. I know I could cope with the disappointment if you could just talk to me.’
Nanna’s appearance remained the same. There was no way of knowing if she’d heard any of it.
‘I’ll never forget what you tried to do for me.’
Out of Nanna’s partially open eye, a tear made its way silently down her pale face.
‘I’ve upset her.’
‘I think it’s just the way her eye is. At least, if she dies, she’ll never know what a knob James has been.’
‘She can’t die!’
‘Whether we like it or not, I think she might. And you’re lucky, at least you ‒’ Lisa stopped abruptly.
‘At least I what?’
‘Well … at least you had her. I never even got to say hello, never mind goodbye.’
Beth thought for a second before offering, ‘Why don’t you say it now?’
‘Really?’
‘Yes, tell her all about yourself. I’ll wait in your place.’ Without further discussion and before she had time to change her mind, Beth closed her eyes and took herself to the furthest corner of her mind. She felt herself travel backwards, away from Nanna and the hospital bed. The sounds of the ward grew dim, the antiseptic smell faded. Then, she was back in Lisa’s place.
‘Hello, Nanna. I’m Lisa. We’ve never properly met, and yet I’ve loved you for as long as Beth has. I know every detail of your face. This isn’t going to make a whole lot of sense to you, but the thing is, Beth and I began life together. We were twins, but then, well, I’m sorry to say that I died. But she didn’t want to let me go, so she shared her life with me. I know it sounds unbelievable, but I’ve been here all the time. I was there for every conversation, every game. Whenever you gave money to Beth and told her she could buy sweets, you gave it to me too. I’ve loved you forever, Nanna. I’m your other granddaughter.’
Speaking to Beth, Lisa said, ‘It sounds nuts when you say it out loud, doesn’t it? I realise now why you couldn’t tell them.’
‘It does sound strange, yeah. I guess we just took it all for granted.’
‘Do you think she heard me?’
‘I don’t know. But I’m pleased you told her.’
‘What else shall I say?’ Lisa asked.
‘Take your time, maybe remind her of the things you liked best about our childhood. There’s no rush. I’m all right back here.’ Beth wasn’t really all right, she was battling the now familiar claustrophobia of Lisa’s place, but she was pleased to be able to give her sister this chance.
Lisa seemed genuinely touched. ‘Thank you.’ Turning her attention back to Nanna she began. ‘Do you remember when we were six and you took us to the fair? We had that goldfish for three years. Mum was sure it wouldn’t last a day …’
Beth sat quietly, listening. She let Lisa have this time to herself. This could be Nanna’s last hour on earth, who knew? And yet she was happy to let Lisa have it. It was the least she could do.
A bell rang to announce the end of visiting time and Beth came to. She’d almost drifted off listening to Lisa’s muffled storytelling. Lisa was still in full flow. ‘… and Dad pulled the coat right up over his head. With his hands out in front of him, he looked just like a headless creature from Scooby Doo. Beth and I were really scared. Until he walked into that tree. Oh God, Nanna, it was so funny, do you remember? It was the best Halloween ever.’
Looking into Nanna’s face, Beth thought she saw a smile. It was hard to tell with her mouth the way it was. ‘Is she smiling?’
‘I don’t know. Maybe … a bit.’
‘That’s a good sign.’
‘Yes.’ Lisa’s voice was full of emotion. ‘Beth?’
‘Yeah?’
‘Thanks for this.’
‘You’re welcome.’
Beth felt Lisa bend her head close to Nanna and kiss her on the cheek. ‘It was wonderful to finally meet you.’
As they left the ward, Beth began to wonder at what point Lisa was going to switch back. She’d swapped willingly, but it crossed her mind that her sister now held all the cards.
Lisa was clearly thinking the same thing. ‘Any chance of me driving us home?’
‘None whatsoever, you lunatic.’
‘A few shots of tequila and a night with a toy boy it is, then.’
‘I don’t … umm …’ Beth attempted to conceal her concern.
‘Just messing with ya, sis. Here you go.’
In the next second, Beth was propelled forward and found herself back in charge of her body. She stumbled slightly and grabbed the handrail that ran the length of the corridor. ‘Blimey, you had me worried for a minute.’
Fifty-seven
When Nanna did open her eyes, Pat’s was the first familiar face she saw. On duty at the time, she only had to jump in the lift to be at Nanna’s bedside, moments after she got the call. She stayed as long as she could, before saying, ‘I’m going to have to head back to work. You know how busy we are downstairs?’
Nanna nodded.
‘But the good news is, I’m not leaving you alone. Look who’s here.’ Pat’s eyes met Beth’s as she rushed into the ward. Leaning in, Pat kissed her mother-in-law affectionately on the cheek. ‘Just keep resting, OK? You’re in good hands here. Anyway, I’ll leave you with your gorgeous granddaughter.’
Sitting herself down in the chair her mum had just vacated, Beth remarked, ‘It’s still warm!’
She took a good look at Nanna and drank in the sight of her, awake and alert. ‘I’m so glad you woke up. How are you?’
‘A bit … tired.’ Nanna’s speech was slightly slow and a little slurred, but it was still her voice.
‘Of course you are, you’ve been busy. Busy lying about in this bed for nearly two weeks,’ Beth joked.
Nanna gave a wonky smile. ‘Sorry if I … worried you.’
‘We weren’t worried. We know what a lazy devil you are.’
Again Nanna attempted a smile.
Taking Nanna’s tiny hand in hers, Beth added, ‘Actually, you gave us all a fright. I was over the bloody moon when Mum called to say you were back with us. Now you just have to concentrate on getting better, OK?’
‘I’ll try.’
‘Have you eaten anything?’ Beth was pleased to see the feeding tube had been removed. She’d found it particularly upsetting.
‘A yoghurt.’
‘Pushing the boat out.’
‘It was … nice. Strawberry.’
‘I’m glad you enjoyed it.’ Beth was struggling to keep her emotions in check. She wanted to grab Nanna and squeeze her hard. She wanted to tell her how terrified she’d been that she was never going to have a conversation with her again. If only she could somehow get across that just listening to her talk about the flavour of her yoghurt was amazing. But she didn’t want to freak poor Nanna out, and she knew if she gave in to her emotions, and expressed how she was feeling, she’d open up a flood gate that would not easily be closed. She continued to keep the conversation light and jokey, whilst silently thanking God for the gift of her nanna back.
‘Is your dad … coming … back?’
‘Yes. He’s on his way.’
‘Good.’
‘He’s been here the most.’
‘I know. He’s a … good son. The staff let him stay … all night a couple of … times.’
‘Yes, they did. You’re right.’
‘He slept right there … in that … chair.’ Nanna’s speech was laboured, she was struggling, but she seemed determined to talk.
‘Yes, he did.’
‘Pat made him … ham sandwiches.’
‘Wow! Nanna, you weren’t as asleep as we thought.’
Realisation dawned on Beth that Nanna had been aware of what had been going on around her, after all. Despite looking as if she’d been out for the count, Nanna had been paying
attention.
Beth began to worry. ‘Lisa, I think she might know about the money.’
‘What makes you say that?’
‘I slipped up, didn’t I? I mentioned bloody James. I was so upset.’
‘Do you want to talk to her about it?’
‘No. Yes. I don’t know. I suppose so. But …’
‘You’re worried in case she’s angry.’
‘Not angry, so much as … disappointed. Should I mention it?’
‘I don’t see how you can ignore it any longer. She was obviously far more alert than we gave her credit for.’
Beth asked, ‘Nanna, when you were sleeping. Could you hear us all?’
‘Yes, most of it … I think.’
‘You knew what was going on?’
‘It’s not … your … fault.’
‘What isn’t?’ Beth chewed her lip, and waited.
‘The money. He took it … didn’t he?’
‘Oh, Nanna! I thought …’
‘You know what thought did … don’t you, darling?’
‘Got out of bed to see if his toes were tucked in?’ Beth gave a sad smile, she loved Nanna’s saying.
‘Exactly.’
‘I’m so sorry. I’m so stupid.’
‘No, you’re not. We should’ve … kept it … at my … house.’
‘Do you hate James?’
‘Do … you?’
‘I don’t know. I feel … a lot of the time, well, if I’m honest, I feel sorry for him.’
‘Hmm.’ Nanna shook her head. A slight movement. Just enough to show her disappointment in James. ‘I always hoped … he’d …’
‘Don’t say it, Nanna. I think we all hoped he’d sort it out. I’ve lost count of the number of times I’ve convinced myself he was better. You know what, though, he won’t ever be better, will he? Not really. He can’t change how he is, any more than I can change how I am. I have my faults.’
Nanna’s eyebrows rose, questioningly.
Beth answered her, ‘Guilt, mostly. I blame myself for everybody else’s misery. I beat myself up about a decision I made forever ago.’
‘You mean … Lisa?’
When Nanna said it, both Lisa and Beth struggled to believe it.
‘She said my name. Nanna said my name!’ Lisa was beside herself with joy.
‘I know. Oh my God, Lisa, she remembers.’
Taking in the expression on her granddaughter’s face, Nanna said, ‘You tried to tell me … about her … once before.’
‘Yes, but … it’s difficult. I didn’t think anyone would believe me.’
‘I would have.’
‘You would?’
Nanna gave a lopsided half-smile. ‘My Malcolm, he had … a twin who died in the … womb.’ Stopping to catch her breath, she continued, ‘He saved his twin … too. He was a right pickle, Hamish was. I … I lost them both that day.’
‘Lisa, did you hear that? Our Grandpa had ‒’
‘Can I … speak … to Lisa, please?’ Nanna asked.
‘She can hear you.’
‘Properly. I mean … face … to face, please.’
‘Let me out, let me out, Nanna wants to speak to me.’
‘All right. Give me a sec?’
‘She knows who I am, and she wants to speak to me.’ There had never been such excitement in Lisa’s voice.
Beth was scared. She didn’t want to go to Lisa’s place. She liked it right there, where she was. Holding Nanna’s tiny warm hand. The absolute last thing she wanted to do was to swap with Lisa, and miss out on precious minutes with her nanna. But what could she do? Nanna was asking specifically for Lisa. It had to be done.
No more than a second after she relinquished the power, and began heading to the far corner of her mind, she felt Lisa rush past her.
Then, she heard, ‘Hello, Nanna. It’s me, Lisa.’
‘Yes … I know.’
‘How?’
‘You sound … different.’
‘Wow.’ Lisa squeezed Nanna’s hand. Beth could still just about feel the touch of Nanna’s papery skin.
‘I’m sorry, darling.’
‘What for?’
‘For … not … realising.’
‘What?’
‘That you were … real. I had you down as Beth’s imaginary … friend.’
‘When?’
‘When she was little. I used to catch her chatting to someone … and … I thought she’d made you up … but …’
Lisa waited for Nanna to catch her breath.
‘But … there was something about you. I always wondered … but … twice seemed a bit … well, it seemed crazy.’
‘It is crazy, Nanna. It’s totally bat shit nuts. If you’ll pardon my language.’
‘You’re just like me, you’re a feisty girl.’
‘Yes. I am. Beth’s the sensible one.’
‘Take care of each other.’
‘We do. Well … sort of.’
‘She’s suffered enough guilt.’
‘I never told her to feel guilty. It doesn’t help me one bit.’
‘She’s a … good girl.’
‘Nanna?’
‘Yes, darling.’
‘Do you remember the Alice in Wonderland book you gave Beth? The one with the beautiful gold leaf cover.’
‘Yes.’
‘It was always my favourite. We still have it.’
‘Good. I’m glad you liked it.’
After a few seconds of amicable silence, Nanna asked, ‘Can Beth come back. I’d like to talk to her again, and I’m really … tired.’
Without hesitation Lisa swapped. Beth was grateful there were no complaints.
‘It’s me, Nanna.’
‘Hello … I just wanted to say … I think you will get your baby, darling. In fact, I’m sure of it.’
‘I can’t even bear to look at my husband just now, I’m not sure how I’m going to get a baby, to be honest.’
‘What do you intend to do … about James?’
‘Do?’
‘Stay or go?’
‘I don’t know. I can’t think about it. I can’t think about him. Not just now.’
‘Fair enough.’
Don appeared in the doorway. Beth told Nanna,’ Dad’s here.’
‘Oh … good.’
‘I hope Lisa and I haven’t worn you out.’
‘No, no. I’m … OK. It’s been lovely to chat.’
‘Yes, it has.’ Rising from her chair, Beth told Don, ‘You can sit here. I’m going to let you and Nanna have a bit of privacy. I think I’ll head home.’
‘Thanks, Betty-Boo.’ He took the chair. Gazing at his mum, Don added, ‘You have no idea how nice it is to see you awake. You’ve had us all out of our minds.’
Beth kissed her amazing Nanna on the cheek. ‘I love you.’
Nanna said, ‘I love you too.’ Then, she whispered, ‘Both of you.’
Fifty-eight
The next day was the last day of February. Pat was working, and Don planned to make his own way to the hospital.
However, some time before he needed to leave home, he received a call to say the staff were finding it difficult to wake his mum, and her breathing had changed. She had begun a stop start rhythm that was often a sign the patient was deteriorating. It was strongly suggested to him he would do well to get there as soon as possible and not wait for visiting hours.
‘But … she was better. She was awake yesterday. She spoke to us.’
‘Sometimes patients have what we call a last hurrah, Mr Campbell. I think your mum had some goodbyes to say.’
In a blind panic, Don rang Beth. She was way over the other side of town, they agreed it would be best if she drove herself. He also attempted to get a message to Pat at work.
Driving to the hospital, oblivious to anyone else on the road, he arrived in record time, and made it to his mum’s bedside before either of the others. Sitting alone, he glanced at the doorway every few seconds, hoping for some company
.
In the bed next to him, Nanna breathed slow deliberate breaths. Every so often she stopped breathing for what seemed like ages, but was maybe a minute or so, before beginning her routine, once more, with a laboured breath. The silence in between was eerie. Don held her hand. He thanked her for everything she’d ever done for him. He told her she was the most amazing woman in the world, and that no one else had ever had a mum like her. He told her she was loved, and he stroked her fine hair away from her face. A nurse came and pulled the curtains around the bed to afford him some privacy, assuring him she would lead his wife and daughter straight to him as soon as they arrived.
As the gaps between Nanna’s breathing grew longer, and the breaths themselves became incredibly shallow, he faced the fact the other two probably weren’t going to make it.
On the day Don was born his father had not attended the birth. It simply wasn’t the done thing back then. Malcolm Campbell was happy to wait at home for word to reach him that the child had arrived safely. He then met some friends, and proceeded to ‘wet the bairn’s heed’. The hospital was not the place for him, he was sure his wife would have ‘done a sterling job, right enough’.
So, for the first night after Don had entered the world, it had been just him and his mum, alone in a hospital bed. Now, as she left that same world, it was, once again, just the two of them in the same place. He held on to her hand as tightly as he dared, not wanting to cause her any pain. She never once opened her eyes to acknowledge her son, but just like before, he was sure she knew he was there.
Because the roads were icy, the A&E department was busier than usual, and it was a while before Pat finally received the message and managed to disentangle herself from work. Equally, the traffic was slow the way Beth had to come from work, and it took her forever to reach the hospital. Coincidently, they arrived at the same time. Rushing for Nanna’s bed, they could hear Don gently crying behind the curtain.
As Pat approached her husband, and gently placed her hand on his shoulder, he looked up and acknowledged their arrival. ‘She’s gone.’
Pat squeezed his shoulder. ‘I’m really sorry.’
‘She wasn’t alone.’
‘That’s good. She would’ve been pleased you were here.’