Cutting the Cord

Home > Other > Cutting the Cord > Page 19
Cutting the Cord Page 19

by Amanda Bateman


  “I knew you would be, Mavis. You’re a good friend to them and to me. I reckon we’re going to need good friends over the next few days to get us through this. It’s just lucky for us that we’ve got those on hand, eh?” Mavis turned to face Gwen as she buttoned up her coat.

  “It is, Gwen, it is.” Gwen smiled at Mavis then turned and headed out the door, leaving a gust of freezing air in her wake.

  On returning to the lounge, Janie was welcomed by a roaring log fire. The curtains had been drawn and the lamps emitted a warm glow. On the coffee table lay a newly opened box of chocolates.

  “Get yourself comfy, child, I’m filling up the cocoa mugs. Help yourself to chocolates. I thought we all deserved a treat.” Janie decided to curl up on the right side of the couch facing the fire. She slipped off her slippers, lifted her feet up onto the couch and tucked them neatly under her dressing gown. She’d just settled herself nicely when Mavis, carrying a tray with two mugs on, entered the room. Placing the tray on the table, she offered one of the mugs to Janie. It was full to the brim with steaming hot cocoa. Mavis took the other mug, then nestled into the armchair beside the fire.

  “She’s okay?” Mavis asked.

  “Umm,” replied Janie as she blew across the top of her mug to cool the cocoa down and carefully took a small sip. It was still far too hot to drink so she asked Mavis a question as she waited for it to cool.

  “Bea told me you moved in next door a few months after her, but she’s never mentioned how you became such good friends.” Mavis placed her untouched cocoa back down on the tray.

  “At first it was just a friendly hello when we were out in the garden or passed one another in the street. I’d saved up some money, so I could replace the horrible shabby curtains in the house, but I didn’t have a clue on either what or how much to buy. I knew Bea ran a sewing service from home so one morning I knocked on her door and asked if she’d come with me to Porthmadog shopping. She said yes straight away.” Mavis picked up her cocoa mug and took a sip to check its temperature, then swallowed a bit more. She laced her fingers around the mug and held it in her lap.

  “After that we spent a lot of time with one another. Bea taught me how to sew and I taught her how to bake bread. Brin, my husband, was a policeman. We’d moved here from the city, thinking it would be safer here, away from all the IRA terrorists with their guns and nail bombs. Brin had left that fateful morning same as always. It was his day for popping out to the more remote farms and small holdings to check everything was okay. There’d been a lot of sheep being stolen over the past few months, so they were making regular checks. Brin spotted two men manhandling a ewe into the back of a van. The ewe’s lamb was crying out in distress and the ewe was putting up a hell of a fight. Brin put the call into the station, saying where he was and what was going on, and asked for immediate assistance. He was told to stay put and keep an eye on them. Before the backup arrived the two men had managed to load both the ewe and lamb into the van and were driving the van across the field towards the gate just up from where Brin was parked up in his panda car. He radioed that they were on the move and they told him to block their path; they were on their way. So Brin drove his car alongside the gate to prevent them from getting away. But the van kept coming and it was picking up speed. Brin realised they were intent on ramming the gate and his car out of the way. He didn’t want to make things easier for them by moving the car so instead he climbed over to the passenger side to get out. The van came hurtling at the gate, ramming itself into the gate and Brin’s panda car. They’d managed to lodge the van on the broken gate so it wouldn’t move either forwards or backwards. At this point the two men jumped out of the van. One of them was holding a gun. He pointed it at Brin and just opened fire. When the backup arrived minutes later they found Brin dead on the side of the road. He’d been shot straight through the head. His police car was gone. The two men were tracked down and cornered in an old farm building. They shot two other officers before they were finally captured. The other officers survived.”

  “Oh, Mavis,” exclaimed Janie. “I wished I’d never asked now.” Mavis gave her a weak smile then finished off her cocoa. She began to continue the story as she placed the empty mug back on the tray.

  “Bea was helping me to hang the new curtains we’d made together in the lounge when they came to tell me. She never left my side until mine and Brin’s families arrived. Even then she’d pop round with pots of stew or a bag of shopping. I’d have gone back to the city with my family if it hadn’t been for Bea. They didn’t want me staying out here alone, but Bea said if I wanted to stay here, then she and Arthur would watch over me and they did. We’ve been through a lot, Bea, Gwen and me. They’ve been more like sisters to me than friends. Bea, as the eldest, always thought she had to care take of us. And she did. Now it’s our turn to take good care of her, I guess.”

  “I’ll second that, sister,” piped up Gwen from the doorway that led into the kitchen. “But I’m going to need some of your famous hot cocoa to keep me going,” she playfully added. Both Mavis and Janie were grateful for the distraction from all the morbid talk.

  “I wouldn’t mind a refill either,” exclaimed Janie as Mavis took the tray with its two empty mugs out into the kitchen.

  “I’ll just go check in on Bea while you make it, Mave, okay?” called Gwen as she headed for the stairs.” Janie slid her feet back into her slippers and crossed over to the fire and placed another log on it. She’d known that Mavis was a widow just like Bea but as he’d died before Arthur had and Bea had lost Arthur in her early thirties, that meant she’d been widowed in her mid-twenties. Mavis is a very attractive woman, who doesn’t look like she’s a few months shy of fifty, thought Janie, so why had she never remarried?

  “No one could ever replace my Brin, dear,” came Mavis’s voice from behind her.

  “I didn’t mean to—”

  “Think out loud?” offered Mavis. “You’re not the first to think it or even say it. I’ve been asked that question more times than I care to remember, but the simple truth is, I’ve never come across a man who’s a patch on my Brin. And, as my dad always says, ‘why settle for scrag end when you’ve tasted best beef?’” Janie laughed at the phrase. She’d heard Bea use it often enough.

  “I thought Gwen was one of us, but it seems she thinks your dad is a nice piece of prime beef,” chuckled Mavis. Janie was glad their conversation had turned to something more fun.

  “I think dad thinks the same on the quiet. Perhaps we’ll have to do a spot of matchmaking.”

  “I think Bea would like that. She told me once, when Harry was down on the beach playing cricket with you kids that he was just the man Gwen didn’t know she was looking for and vice versa. I didn’t know your dad very well at all then, but I understood what Bea meant. I think they both know now but are too scared to make the first move.”

  “Dad’s quite shy deep down,” began Janie. “People call him the Gentle Giant. I can tell he likes Gwen a lot because apart from family members he hardly ever talks to women. But he natters away with Gwen, ten to the dozen.”

  “Talking about me, ladies?” asked Gwen. She’d crept down the stairs and had overheard a lot of their conversation.

  “Ask me no questions and I’ll you no lies,” chortled Mavis. Gwen gave Mavis a fake hurt look then making her way over to the sofa she grabbed a chocolate from the opened box on the coffee table and stuffed it in her mouth, trying not to choke as laughter broke out between them.

  Upstairs, Bea stirred. Their laughter wafted up the stairs to greet her. She thought she’d never hear them laugh again, so it came as a welcome surprise.

  BEA

  Easter Sunday 1983

  “I think spring has finally sprung,” announced Gwen as she opened Bea’s bedroom curtains and light streamed in through the window. Bea struggled to open her eyes. Every fibre of her body seemed to be screaming out in pain. Gwen must have c
rossed over to her bed as she felt the pain of her lifting her wrist slightly to check her pulse. Bea forced her eyes open. The light hit her retinas with a searing force, causing them to close again. Bea swallowed down the nausea building at the back of her throat and once again summoned all her energy to open her eyes. Gwen’s beautiful smiled greeted her this time. Gwen released her wrist and instead gathered Bea’s frail hand into both her own. Bea tried in vain to speak. Just a noise like a baby gurgling seemed to emit from her mouth.

  “It’s time, is that it?” asked Gwen. Using all the strength she could muster, Bea gave Gwen’s hand a gentle squeeze.

  “I’ll up the morphine dosage, Bea, just so I can dress you appropriately and the boys can move you without too much pain and discomfort. Then I’ll lower the dose as much as I can, so you are as aware as possible without being racked too much with the pain, is that okay?” Bea just managed to move her hand slightly this time. Gwen placed a kiss on Bea’s forehead then set about her task. As the morphine was absorbed into her body, Bea drifted away into oblivion.

  Bea felt like she was floating on a boat out at sea. Her body moving up and down in time with the swell of the tide. Only, with each movement, her body ached more and more. The boat must have run aground, thought Bea, as a violent jolt sent needles of hot searing spikes through her entire body. Now she could hear a familiar voice calling to her. As it grew nearer she became aware of what was being said to her. It was Harry’s voice, calling.

  “Bea, darling, you’re here as you wished. Try opening your eyes now.” Bea struggled to open her eyes. Her whole body was gripped in a non-stop wave of crippling pain. She knew it was the cancer. She knew it was eating away at her very core. That her whole body was so very close to shutting down completely. She didn’t want to fight it anymore. She couldn’t fight it anymore but then she smelt the sea air. She felt a soft breeze caress her cheeks and she knew if she found the strength to lick her lips that they’d taste of salt. Bea willed her eyes to open. The pain was almost unbearable but the sight before her when she did was the best reward on earth.

  She was out on the top terrace of the cottage, looking out towards the pebbles and sand and the sea beyond the edge of the cottage’s garden. The spring sun was twinkling on the water casting a beautiful glow. She tentatively turned her head to the right. The pain seared down her spine but the sight of seeing all those she held dear congregated on the terrace made it all worthwhile. She let her gaze fall over each of their faces in turn. Her dad’s, Harry’s, Charlie’s, Megan’s and Gwen’s. At Mavis’ and Janie’s. Dear sweet Janie. She would miss them all so very much. Then she turned her head back to look out across the garden, the pebbles, the sandy beach and out over to the furthest end of the sea, where sunbeams danced on the crest of waves. Bea strained her eyes against those sunbeams, focusing on the shadow within that she could see. It came nearer and nearer until at last she could see it was Arthur. He was coming to meet her. He walked right up to where the sea lapped against the sand and waited for her there.

  Bea turned once again to look upon her love ones but this time there was no pain. She whispered goodbye into the breeze and turned back to her beloved Arthur, waiting at the water’s edge. He reached out his hand to her and Bea closed her eyes for the last time.

  Gwen had watched as Bea had opened her eyes. How she seemed to smile at something far out to sea. Gwen searched the horizon but there didn’t seem to anything there but the twinkling of the sun’s rays on the water. She’d turned back to see Bea was now watching them. She seemed to be absorbing their very essence and like some kind of magic elixir it was erasing the pain from her face. Suddenly she no longer looked ravaged by the cancer but glowing with health. Then Bea had turned back to face the sea and closed her eyes. In that moment, Gwen knew she’d lost her friend. She wandered to her side and gently reached in, under the blankets and felt for a pulse. There wasn’t one. She turned to the others with tears already clouding her eyes. Gwen could tell they all knew, as each of them were shedding tears of their own.

  JANIE & HARRY

  Friday, 22nd April 1983

  The sun was beginning to fade on what had been a long emotional day as Harry sat down beside his daughter Janie. He’d eventually found her, down at the end of the garden huddled up on the small cane sofa in the sun house. She looked emotionally drained, as he suspected he did after all the events of the day.

  Bea had had it all planned out to very last detail. Memorial service in the village hall at ten o’clock for family and friends. Then her ashes, placed in a plain wooden box with Arthur’s, were loaded onto a fishing boat in Barmouth and, along with her close friends and family, taken out to sea. Once they were a few miles out and running horizontal to where the beach stretched out, in front of the cottage, the ashes were cast into the water. They’d each then thrown a single yellow rose into the sea and offered up a silent prayer before returning to dry land and the cottage.

  Gavin Smthye-Jones, Bea’s lawyer, had been waiting back at the cottage for them to read Bea’s last will and testament. It had come as a great shock to them all to found out how much wealth she’d left behind. There’d been generous cash amounts, along with an item of her jewellery left to each of her close friends. George had been left a sizeable sum of money with orders to marry Rose before she saw sense and to book a cruise to the Caribbean for their honeymoon. Charlie was now the new proud owner of Bea’s beloved MG sports car and also a good wedge of cash. Anne had received a substantial amount of money and young Freddy junior had inherited a fund that he could access once he reached twenty-one. Megan had inherited the shop along with its two-bedroomed accommodation in New Quay. It came with instructions that the tenants were free to lease it from her for as long as they required. Megan also got a hefty sum of money to do as she pleased and another amount to pay for all her expenses while she was still in university. Janie had been left Sea View Cottage and the studio that was in its grounds and again a huge chunk of money. Harry had been left Arthur’s treasured Morgan. He’d been carefully tending to it for the past fourteen years, ever since Bea had come back into their lives. He too had been left a considerable sum of money. But there’d also been donations to local charities and causes and, most surprising of all, there’d even been gifts of both jewellery and money to their sister and mother, despite all the pain and heartache they’d caused Bea and Arthur. It never seemed to amaze him how much of a wonderful, caring, forgiving human being Bea had been.

  Harry placed a protective arm around his youngest daughter’s shoulders and drew her close to him. Automatically, Janie nestled into her father’s embrace.

  “I didn’t come to look after her to be rewarded,” explained Janie. Harry gave her a gentle squeeze.

  “No one thinks that sweetheart. It was only right you should have the cottage; after all, it’s been your home on and off since Bea came into your life. You gave up a lot to come and take of her and Bea knew you did it out of love and for no other reason.”

  “But I don’t understand.”

  Harry wrapped his other arm around Janie and she nuzzled in further to his chest.

  “Remember when you came out of the kitchen holding up a picture you’d drawn of the cottage when you were perhaps nine or ten?” Janie nodded her head. “You’d drawn a plan of the cottage turned upside down. The bedrooms on the ground floor and a big open-plan kitchen, dining room-cum-lounge upstairs. You said it would be far nicer if you looked at the beach, at the sea while you ate your meals or sat on the sofa, rather than only seeing them as you opened and closed your bedroom curtains.”

  “I did, didn’t I? And I still do. The views are wonderful from the terraces but from the rear bedroom windows they are spectacular. The sunsets are beautiful from those windows. I’ve often sat perched on the thick windowsill watching the sun go down.” Janie sighed at the memory.

  “And do you remember what Bea did after you’d shown her your plans?”

/>   Janie could remember clearly now. “She went into the studio and came back out with a rolled-up sheet of paper. She laid it on the table over mine and unfurled it. It was a much more sophisticated drawing of the one I’d done. The heading read, ‘ARTHUR’S PLANS FOR SEA VIEW COTTAGE’ Bea said that Arthur had been planning to renovate the cottage but then he’d been struck down with the brain tumour.”

  “Do you remember what she said next?” Janie searched for the answer, but it evaded her.

  “She said, she liked the cottage how it was but one day she’d let you fulfil both yours and Arthur’s dream. Today she’s made good on that promise.” Janie thought about what her father had just said. She vaguely remembered her aunt talking about letting her change the cottage one day. Then it dawned on her why Bea had bequeathed her the cottage and all that money.

  “She wants me to finally make those dreams come true, doesn’t she, Dad?” Harry gave Janie a big, knowing smile.

  “Of course she does, sweetheart. She loves Megan, Anne and Charlie as the nephew and nieces they are but you, you she loved like the daughter she never had. She’d often remark how you reminded her of Arthur. The way that you’d stiffly dip a toe into the sea as though afraid of it and then the next minute you’re running full pelt into it, waving your arms about and laughing as you immerse yourself into its arms. She said Arthur would do the exact same thing. How when she first ever came to stay, and you hummed away as you laid the table. Bea, since a small child had also hummed as she set the table. Then of course there was the vision for the cottage. The same vision as Arthur had had. There always was a deeper connection between the two of you.”

  Janie had felt that connection too. Bea had been like a mother to her. She’d taught her to bake, to sew, to plant vegetables and flowers. She’d been the mother Elsie never had been. Now she was gone, along with her Freddy. Was that how Janie’s life was always going to be? Losing those she held most dear? The thought scared her, and she wriggled out of her father’s embrace, so she could look him straight in the eye when he responded to her question.

 

‹ Prev