Learning to Dance Again

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Learning to Dance Again Page 3

by Frankie Valente


  ‘I’m sorry. They think he had a heart attack. They tried to resuscitate him but…’

  Liam sat down heavily on the chair. He looked at Julia and then looked away again. He caught sight of a family portrait on the wall, taken before Duncan was ill, and before Jamie and Bryden had gone off to University. He stared at the face of his best friend, who would also need to be told soon. Liam was aware many people had witnessed Duncan’s collapse, so the news would spread quickly around the community. He had volunteered to go and find Julia as he didn’t want a stranger to be the one to tell her; except he hadn’t counted on how hard it would be to tell her himself. Nothing he had learned at the police training college in Inverness had prepared him for this situation.

  ‘Julia? Shall I drive you to the hospital?’

  Julia looked up but did not reply. She looked as if someone had just slapped her.

  ‘We need to tell Jamie and Bryden soon; before they find out from someone else.’

  Julia nodded, but did not move.

  ‘Do you want me to call them?’

  She shook her head.

  Liam walked over to her. He bent down and offered her his hand. She took it and he helped her to stand up.

  ‘Can I get you a drink? Water? Tea?’

  ‘No, it’s OK,’ she whispered.

  He stood in front of her and put his hands on her shoulders.

  ‘I’m so sorry. I can’t believe it myself yet.’

  ‘Can you take me to him?’

  ‘Of course I can. Do you want to do that now, or call Jamie and Bryden first?’

  ‘I’d better call them.’

  Julia picked up her mobile phone from the kitchen worktop and stared at it blankly.

  ‘So, he’s really dead? You’re sure.’

  ‘Yes, I’m so sorry. I was at the hospital, dealing with a drunk and I saw him come in with the paramedics.’

  Julia scrolled through the numbers on her phone until she found Jamie’s mobile. She pressed dial, but as soon as it started ringing she realised she couldn’t speak. She handed the phone to Liam, shaking her head in frustration.

  Julia paced up and down the kitchen, her arms wrapped tightly around her body, trying to contain the grief. She listened as Liam spoke to Jamie, desperate to speak to him herself, but unable to voice the words she needed to say. Her throat had constricted so much she could barely breathe.

  ‘No, it’s Liam. Your mum asked me to call you. I have some bad news…Your dad suffered a heart attack at school today…I’m sorry mate…They couldn’t bring him back… He died about an hour ago…No he doesn’t know yet… I’ll pick you up from the airport. Yeah, I’ll make sure she’s OK.’

  Liam handed the phone back to Julia.

  ‘Jamie’s going to ring Bryden right now and then sort out flights to come home. It’s probably too late to get back tonight, but hopefully tomorrow morning. I’m not on duty then, so I can pick them up if you want.’

  ‘I should have told him,’ Julia whispered.

  ‘Don’t worry; he understood. And you know Jamie he was more concerned about you and Bryden than himself. Anyway, shall we go to the hospital now? Or can I call anyone else? What about one of your friends?’

  ‘No; I’ll ring them later.’

  Julia took one last look around the kitchen and noticed the oven was on. She switched it off and followed Liam out to his van.

  4

  Julia had seen many dead bodies in her life, one of the perils of her profession. Over the years she had learned to view them coolly and professionally, sparing her main thoughts and efforts on looking after the relatives of the deceased. Now she was the relative she didn’t know how to react. It was so unreal and she wanted to shake Duncan awake. She put her hand on his arm; it was already cool.

  She had steeled herself for his death so many times over the last year, but each time he had rallied and recovered, and now, like the boy who cried wolf, she couldn’t believe he wasn’t faking it.

  Liam stood sentry by the door, his arms folded, his head bowed as if he was praying. There was a knock on the door and he opened it a touch to see who was there, and then opened it fully to let in a young doctor who wanted to see Julia.

  ‘Hello Mrs Robertson, I’m Nathalie Parker, I tended to your husband when he came in. I’m really sorry we couldn’t resuscitate him. I understand one of the pupils made a brave attempt at doing chest compressions as soon as he collapsed, and the paramedics got there very quickly and used a defibrillator on him. We worked on him for quite a while, but we couldn’t get a heartbeat again. We won’t find out exactly what happened until we do a post-mortem, but we think he suffered a heart attack.’

  ‘Post-mortem?’

  ‘When someone dies unexpectedly like this… it’s the standard procedure.’

  ‘He’d just recovered from cancer; he’s never had any heart problems.’

  ‘I know. But there’s a small risk with chemotherapy and radiation therapy the heart can be damaged. We won’t know for sure until…’

  Julia nodded. She couldn’t take her eyes away from Duncan. His clothes had been replaced by one of the ugly hospital gowns. She spotted a white polythene bag in the corner of the room and recognised the blue shirt he had been wearing earlier on top of the clothes in the bag. The brand new shirt had clearly been cut from Duncan’s body for speed of access. Julia had a flashback from that morning when he had put on, with its tell-tale creases from the packaging still visible. She wanted to turn back the clock to that moment when he was getting dressed. She should have made him stay at home.

  She was aware the doctor was still in the room waiting for a response.

  ‘Thank you; thank you for trying. I just need a few moments more, if that’s OK?’

  ‘Of course.’ Nathalie nodded at Liam and hurried out of the room.

  ‘It doesn’t really look like him now, does it?’ Julia said, as she stroked Duncan’s cheek.

  Liam moved closer to the bed and sat down on the chair next to Julia.

  ‘No; Duncan was always smiling, or talking, or something.’

  ‘He doesn’t even look like this when he’s asleep,’ Julia replied softly, realising she had spoken about him in the present tense; wondering when she would have the strength to acknowledge him in the past tense. ‘I just can’t believe this, I really can’t. Just this morning we felt so happy; so lucky.’

  Liam drove Julia home and stayed with her for a while, making cups of tea and keeping her company while she plucked up the courage to ring Jamie and Bryden herself. He went in search of tissues for her while she cried on the phone with them, and failing that returned with a toilet roll from the downstairs cloakroom. She smiled her gratitude at him as she wiped the tears away.

  When he was sure she was alright he got ready to go.

  ‘I’m sorry I kept you so long. I hope you won’t get in trouble for this,’ Julia said.

  ‘Don’t be silly. It’s part of the job, and in any case, my shift finished ages ago.’

  ‘Well in that case you’d better get home for your tea then. I’m sorry you had such a horrible day. I know it must have been hard for you too. You did a good job; I’m so proud of you.’

  After Liam had driven away Julia picked up the phone and called Marianne and within half an hour Marianne was walking through the front door, carrying a shopping bag.

  ‘I bought some wine – probably not the most appropriate thing to do. But Lord knows I could do with a drink.’ Marianne stowed one bottle of wine in the fridge and handed the other to Julia. On autopilot, Julia reached up and took out two wine glasses from the cupboard.

  ‘I’ve got a chicken casserole half-cooked in the oven already. Shall I switch it on again?’

  ‘Yeah, why not – you should eat something. Isn’t that what people say?’

  Julia had put the bottle of wine next to the glasses but she hadn’t opened it. She seemed uncertain what to do next, so Marianne opened the bottle of Chablis and poured two generous glasses.
>
  ‘Duncan’s favourite.’ Julia said, noticing the label.

  ‘I know. He’d be pissed off not being able to have some wouldn’t he? But it seemed appropriate to drink a toast to him with a bottle of the good stuff.’

  They carried their glasses into the lounge. Marianne sat down in her usual chair, adjacent to the sofa. She had kicked off her shoes already and looked almost comfortable. However, as Julia sat down on the sofa she looked over and saw Marianne was struggling. Her eyes were unnaturally bright with unshed tears, and her bottom lip quivered; the bravado she had kept up since she arrived had drained away.

  ‘To Duncan – God bless you my darling.’ Julia said, lifting her glass to Marianne.

  ‘Oh Christ; I can’t do this. For fuck’s sake! I thought it was all over now.’ Marianne put her glass down on the table and covered her face with her hands.

  ‘I know. So did I.’ Julia took a sip of the wine as she stared at Marianne. She was feeling extraordinarily numb. It didn’t feel real.

  ‘All those times when we thought he wouldn’t make it, I used to wonder how I could be a good friend to you when it happened. That time when he was in hospital in Aberdeen and it seemed so touch and go, I hardly slept at all. I was waiting for you to ring. I was ready for it then.’

  ‘So was I; I think.’

  ‘Why is life such a bastard?’

  ‘I don’t know. It just is.’ Julia gulped back some more wine, praying for oblivion. ‘Are you staying over tonight?’

  ‘Of course; I rang to tell them I’d be late for work tomorrow. I told the staff; I hope you don’t mind. They were gutted for you. Thank God poor Alice won’t know what happened. Morag went to sit with her this evening. She’s been sleeping soundly since her little upset this afternoon.’

  ‘That’s some relief at least.’

  ‘To Duncan!’ Marianne said, sitting up straight in an attempt to regain her composure. She took a sip of wine then pulled a face. ‘Why didn’t you have the decency to like red wine? This stuff gives me a headache.’

  Julia laughed nervously and drained her glass. She pondered the merits of drinking wine on an empty stomach. She didn’t want to be lying in bed with a hangover when her boys came home. She went out to the kitchen and returned with a large bowl of crisps.

  ‘I always thought people were supposed to lose their appetites in these circumstances,’ Julia said, as she helped herself to a handful of crisps.

  ‘I think they do, normally.’

  ‘But we’re not normal are we?’

  Marianne shook her head in agreement.

  They talked all evening. They finished two bottles of wine, the bowl of crisps, and then had some of the chicken casserole, after which they started on whisky and chocolate.

  They shared memories of Duncan; happy, sad and funny. They had both known him for most of their lives. It was Marianne that had goaded Duncan into asking Julia out. He had been too shy, but Marianne had known he had harboured a crush on Julia for years. It was Marianne that persuaded Julia she should give him a chance, as Julia had never considered Duncan to be anything more than just a friend. He had asked her out to a dance during one long summer holiday when he was home from University. Julia had just applied to do nurse training and wasn’t really interested in getting serious with anyone. But Duncan wasn’t just anyone.

  ‘I keep waiting for him to come home.’ Julia said, yawning with exhaustion. It was long after midnight and the alcohol was making her sleepy.

  ‘Maybe he’s already here. Do you believe in ghosts?’

  ‘Yes, no, maybe; I don’t know…I’ve been thinking about that thing with Alice. Do you realise she was calling for him at the same time he was dying.’

  ‘Really? Oh God, that’s spooky.’

  They sat for a moment in silence.

  ‘I really need to go to bed; but I don’t want to go upstairs. I can’t bear to get in that bed on my own.’

  ‘Don’t then. Sleep here on the sofa. I’ll go upstairs and fetch the duvet for you.’

  Marianne hurried up to Julia’s room and pulled the duvet off the bed and picked up a pillow and carried them downstairs. She put them down in a bundle on the floor beside Julia, who reached over and picked up the pillow. Julia sat and cuddled it for a moment, deep in thought and then held the pillow to her face.

  ‘This is Duncan’s pillow. I can smell his aftershave.’

  Marianne sat down beside Julia and pulled the pillow towards her and inhaled. Then she wrapped her arms around Julia as they both wept.

  5

  Marianne woke first; her head thumping. She felt hot, sticky and disgusting, after sleeping in her clothes on the sofa. She looked across at the other sofa and saw Julia was still fast asleep, buried under the duvet.

  Marianne was desperate to use the bathroom, but didn’t want to wake Julia. She didn’t want to see the look on her face when she woke up and remembered what had happened. She sat up carefully and tiptoed across the wooden floor to the downstairs bathroom. With a sigh of relief she discovered a fully stocked medicine cupboard, so she helped herself to painkillers.

  When she returned to the lounge she was relieved to see Julia was still asleep. She glanced at the clock; it was seven thirty. Julia was bound to wake up soon.

  Marianne rubbed her face with her hands. She was exhausted and could do with going back to sleep for a while longer. She lay down on the sofa again, facing Julia, keeping watch for when she woke up. She didn’t have long to wait, as a few minutes later the phone rang. Marianne jumped up quickly to answer it, as Julia opened her eyes and stared around her in surprise. Within a split second Marianne saw Julia’s eyes widen with shock, and close again in grief.

  ‘Hello? …No, it’s Marianne... I stayed over with your mam… OK, that’s brilliant Jamie; see you in a little while.’

  Marianne put the phone down, surveying the glasses, plates and dishes that still littered the coffee table.

  ‘They’ve just landed. Liam’s picked them up, so they’ll be home in half an hour.’

  ‘Jesus, look at the state of this place.’

  ‘Don’t worry about that. You run up and have a quick shower. I’ll tidy up down here.’

  ‘Thanks!’

  Julia raced up the stairs to the bedroom dragging the duvet and pillow with her. She threw them in a heap on the bed and hurried to the bathroom. She glanced at the reflection of herself in the mirror. Her face was puffy and creased, and her hair was a disaster.

  She washed her hair quickly, trying not to see the masculine shower gels and anti-dandruff shampoos cluttering the window sill. She took a deep breath.

  ‘Duncan, where the hell are you? Why did this happen?’ she whispered, as she rinsed the lather away. Her eyes stung in the water and she felt a little queasy. She was ashamed of herself for getting plastered the night her husband died. It was so undignified, and yet it had helped somehow.

  She got dried and dressed quickly, putting on a pair of jeans and a pale green shirt. It occurred to her she ought to be wearing black; then she remembered something Duncan had said to her a few months ago.

  ‘Don’t mourn for me. I want you to live life and enjoy yourself. Wear your sexy red dress to my funeral.’

  She had laughed at him and told him not to be so stupid. Of course she would mourn for him, but she had promised to wear a sexy black dress to his funeral. He had nodded his approval and told her he would be watching to make sure she did.

  He had planned his own funeral, but since he had survived the cancer they hadn’t talked about it in ages. Julia realised she would now have to implement his plans. She felt sick at the thought of it.

  She sat down on the bed, breathless, her hands shaking. She turned and picked up the pillow she had dumped on the bed and pulled it to her face. She gritted her teeth and closed her eyes, resisting the temptation to scream. She wanted to get in her car and drive to the hospital and demand to see Duncan again. It could not be real.

  She heard the crunch of a
car stopping on the gravel drive, and she stood up and looked out of the window and saw Jamie, Bryden and Liam getting out of a blue car.

  She hurried downstairs to meet them, taking deep breaths and trying to control her emotions.

  Marianne was in the kitchen, loading up the dishwasher. She had cleared the lounge of all the debris and it was relatively tidy again. She pulled a face at Julia, an acknowledgement that seeing the boys would be a difficult moment. Julia nodded, still trying to compose herself. Marianne turned away and picked up the kettle to fill it.

  The front door opened and Jamie marched in, ahead of Liam.

  Julia looked past them both, waiting for Bryden to appear. He didn’t.

  ‘Bryden’s spewing outside. He’s a bit hung-over.’ Jamie explained, as he crossed the room to greet his mother.

  ‘Oh, right, I see… Well it’s lovely to see you Jamie. I just wish…’

  ‘I know.'

  He held out his arms to her and she hugged him gratefully, reluctant to let go.

  ‘Who would like some coffee? Liam?’ Marianne said; keen to make Liam feel welcome in the middle of this awkward family reunion. ‘Black coffee for Bryden? He’s not the only one with a hangover. I’m feeling a bit fragile myself.’

  ‘Yes please.’ Liam replied. ‘I’ll just go and see if he’s alright.’

  He hurried outside, returning a moment later with Bryden, who looked pale and shaky.

  ‘Sorry Mam. I didn’t mean to get pissed last night. We went and stayed over at Graham’s house in Aberdeen so we could get the early flight, and we stayed up all night drinking, and talking about dad.’

  ‘That’s OK, that’s what me and Marianne did too.’

  Bryden gave his mother a quick hug. Julia wrinkled her nose involuntarily.

  ‘Do you mind if I run up and get changed, I probably stink a bit? I’m surprised we were allowed on the plane this morning.’

  ‘I could do with a shower too. Shall I use your bathroom?’ Jamie said.

 

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