by Peter Turner
‘What do you mean – she’s started to pick at herself?’
‘She’s started to pick at herself, as if she’s picking things off her body. They all do that just before the end. There’s only a short time left for her now.’
The sound of the doorbell broke our silence.
‘It’ll be the doctor. I want you to stay in here,’ she said, getting up to answer it. ‘I’ll take him up to Gloria. Why don’t you go and book a room for Tim and Paulette in one of those hotels by the park?’
I could hear the preliminaries of conversation as my mother brought the doctor into the house.
‘Isn’t it awful? The weather. What a day it’s turning out to be. The heavens have opened.’
‘Yes, it’s surprising the way things have changed over the last week, doctor. We’re into October now.’
‘That’s right,’ he said. ‘We’re into October. Where’s the summer gone?’
Their chattering continued as they climbed up the stairs to Gloria’s room. Everything went quiet except for the sound of the rain.
I stood by the window and looked out towards the tree. It looked harsh. Defiant. The wind lashed against the branches. They lurched from side to side, ducking, fighting, teasing; provoking the storm. I knew that very soon the tree would certainly fall. The rain streamed down the window clouding my view. I sat down and cried.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
‘Open this bloody door.’ It was Joe, angrily shouting from outside the back door.
‘I’m coming,’ I said and wiped my face on my sleeve.
‘Oh Peter, hurry up,’ Jessie shouted. ‘We’re soaked right through.’
I opened the door and two very wet people pushed past and ran into the house.
‘Why did you come the back way?’ I asked.
‘Because the garden door was open, so we just ran right round, didn’t we, Joe? It’s raining cats and dogs.’
‘And the bleeding car broke down! Just at the end of the road. That’s all I need.’ Joe threw off his wet jacket and sat on the steps to take off his boots.
‘You look terrible, Peter.’ Jessie untied her headscarf and shook it over the sink. ‘Didn’t you get any sleep?’
‘A little bit,’ I said and lit the gas under the kettle. ‘I’ll make you a cup of tea.’
‘Well? How is Gloria?’
‘She’s been rambling and talking to herself.’
‘What was she saying?’
‘I don’t know, Jessie. I wasn’t here.’
‘What do you mean you weren’t here?’ Joe’s eyes narrowed on me. ‘Where were you then?’
‘I needed to get away. I went to see Eileen Connolly at the Belgrave.’
‘Do you mean to say that you spent the night at a casino?’ He was now totally fixed on me and I could feel a fury brewing.
‘No, Joe. Not exactly.’
‘Where did you spend it then?’
‘I wanted to talk. I had to talk to Eileen. We went to a club in Chinatown.’
‘Do you mean to tell me that you left Gloria upstairs in this house with no one except the old girl to look after her, while you went out drinking and spending the night on a club crawl?’ Joe’s body contorted into a state of absolute rage. ‘I’ve heard some terrible things but that’s the worst. You don’t care about anyone except yourself. That’s it with you. I don’t want anything more to do with you.’
‘No, it wasn’t like that, Joe. I wanted to talk about Gloria. And anyway, I thought you and Jessie were here.’
‘Of course you thought we’d be here. “Joe’s there so he’ll do my work for me. I can go out and get drunk.” That’s what you thought. You didn’t think for one minute about Gloria and you certainly didn’t care about me. I’ve got my own house and kids and a business to keep going, without having to take on your problems. Running you about in the car all week – that’s why it’s packed up now. And you don’t care about that. But the worst thing is the fact that you left Gloria all night while you were out clubbing.’
‘Now look, Joe,’ I shouted back at him. ‘It just wasn’t like that. Think about what I’ve been going through all week, working every night, trying to get through a lousy performance in a play in front of hundreds of people, knowing all the time that Gloria is dying. I’m tired, I’m upset. I’m in a state of shock.’
‘You’ll be in an even worse state of shock by the time I’ve finished with you.’
‘Oh calm down,’ I said. ‘The doctor’s in the house.’
‘Well that’s good. You’ll be needing a fucking doctor in the house if I lay my hands on you!’
‘Stop it!’ Jessie pleaded and pointed to the room above. ‘The two of you, please, stop it. Everybody’s in a terrible mood. This business has got to everybody.’
Joe and I stopped shouting and stood silently facing each other.
The kettle came to the boil and, as if announcing the ‘all clear’, slowly whistled away.
‘Just make a cup of tea for yourselves,’ I said. ‘I think I’ll go out for a while.’
While Joe still had his teeth clenched, I thought it the perfect time to go looking for hotel rooms for Tim and Paulette. So I grabbed my coat and left the house.
As I reached the end of the road I could see my brother’s abandoned car. I hurried by, cursing it, then turned the corner into Aigburth Drive and headed for the park.
All my memories of Sefton Park are of hot summer Sundays and women in pretty frocks. I would often spend time there as a child, either being taken by my sister Mary and her husband or following after John and Frank and their gang. Some days we would take a boat out on the lake, or I would play around the dome-shaped glass house which harboured exotic plants and enormous palm trees which I was certain came from Africa. At times a travelling funfair would arrive, or maybe a circus, and set itself up on the north playing-fields, along by the avenue of trees.
I walked up the avenue, across the playing fields, past the glass house towards the hotels on the other side of the park.
The first hotel was full. There was a conference taking place and they had been booked up for months; however, if I were to telephone the next day there might be a cancellation. At the second hotel I was able to make a provisional booking for two single rooms.
It stopped raining on the way home. By the time I reached the end of our road the sun was almost out. As I turned the corner my mother and Jessie were just walking past Joe’s car.
‘We’re just venturing out to the shops while the rain holds off,’ my mother smiled reassuringly. ‘I’m worried about you. You’d better get back to the house and dry yourself off.’
‘Where’s Joe?’ I asked.
‘He’s upstairs with Gloria, so don’t mention anything to him,’ Jessie said cautiously. ‘You know what he’s like. He’s been working all night. Anyway, he’ll be all right once he’s had something to eat.’
‘Oh, I don’t know what to buy for the easiest. If the chip shop’s open we’ll bring some back.’ Then in a hushed voice, almost like a conspirator, my mother added, ‘I’ll get you a nice fish.’
Gloria looked at me, smiled and closed her eyes. Joe didn’t speak and neither did I. When I sat on the side of the bed next to her she opened her eyes again.
‘Sit me up, Peter,’ she said.
I helped her to a sitting position, sideways on the bed with her feet on the floor.
‘Burp me, Peter,’ she whispered.
I started to rub her back. Without hesitation, Joe came and sat behind her, lending her support with his body. He and I still hadn’t said a word to each other, but as my hand rubbed between their backs, not only was I burping Gloria, I was also burping Joe. It was difficult not to find the situation comic. He turned to me and smiled, and the tension between us relaxed. Joe and I were friends again, and Gloria became more alert.
‘That feels so good,’ she said. ‘How am I doing, Joe?’
‘You’re doing great,’ he replied. ‘Just you carry on.’
/> She clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth, pushed her fist ahead of her and put her thumb up, just like a champion, as she always did when things were going well.
Joe left the room. I helped Gloria back into her bed.
‘There’s a fish for Joe and a fish for you,’ my mother said as I sat down at the kitchen table. ‘Jessie, you asked for the fish cake. I’m just going to fry meself an egg because I didn’t fancy any of that grease. The Chinese chip shop was shut, so we had to go to the Greek.’
‘Oooh, their chips are lovely.’
‘Well, Jessie, you just take more for yourself. I only want a few on a butty.’
‘Oh no. I don’t want any more. Give them to Joe.’
Joe put his paper down to look over his mountain of chips.
‘Hang on, give some of them to our Peter. He looks as if he needs a good scoff.’ Then he turned to me. ‘How was Gloria when you left her?’
‘She’s resting now, but I think she’s feeling a little bit better.’
‘Well I think she’s marvellous. A real fighter, that woman. She’s got guts. I suppose that’s what helped to make her a big star.’
‘That’s what the doctor said to me this morning,’ my mother shouted over from the frying pan. ‘He said that he couldn’t believe the determination she’s got.’
‘She’s certainly determined,’ Joe said. ‘She was almost cracking jokes when I was with her.’
‘She’s asked me to clean her nails,’ I told them. ‘But they look as if they’ve been done.’
‘They have,’ my mother said and joined us at the table. ‘I did them this morning.’ Then she added in a whisper, ‘The doctor said she’ll be doing this a lot now. Rambling and getting obsessed with things. He said there’s nothing any of us can do for her except try to keep her as comfortable as we can.’
We all fell silent again.
‘Does he think she might be in any pain?’ Jessie eventually asked.
‘Well love, he says that now she might be. I think he’d like to give her something but she still won’t let him attend to her properly. Anyway, I had a good talk to that doctor this morning and he agrees with me that we should get a nurse to come into the house. Now I know that you’ll say that she doesn’t want one, Peter, but she’s got to have the necessary attention. She needs bed baths and things, she could get sores. I know that Gloria doesn’t want a nurse but she’s not responsible for herself now.’
I had to agree, we all agreed. Gloria must have a nurse.
‘We’ll have to go “private”. Gloria’s American,’ Jessie said. ‘We’ll never get one on the National Health.’
‘Well, where are we going to get one from?’
It was at this point that I thought about Barbara at the vasectomy clinic.
The play I was in had a serious theme wrapped up in a comic structure and was set in a vasectomy clinic. During rehearsals it was thought a good idea that I went along to a clinic to talk to the staff and find out how vasectomies were performed. On the day of my visit, which I wasn’t looking forward to, I was met by a strange-looking woman of uncertain age, with dangling arms, stretched see-through skin, apricot-coloured hair and wearing a grey uniform that was heavily starched. She looked like an X-ray dressed up.
‘I’m Barbara Brawnsley. I’m the Duty Staff Nurse.’ She then looked knowingly into my eyes and started to move her lips about, as if swilling something distasteful around the inside of her mouth. ‘I hope you’re not sensitive,’ she quipped, then grabbed hold of my arm and led me into the building.
Up two flights of stairs and at the end of a corridor, we arrived at the door to an office. She sat down and picked up a cigarette that had been burning away in an ashtray on the desk in front of her. She inhaled deeply, then held her breath as the upper part of her body went into mild convulsions while she held back the coughs.
‘Don’t worry about me,’ she said. ‘It’s only a tickle.’
I sat down at the other side of the desk.
‘Now I’ve spoken to the director,’ she went on, ‘and he’s told me all about it and what he wants. I’m sending over a trolley and some instruments to the Playhouse tomorrow. I haven’t got much time so what I’m going to do is go through the procedure for a vas. You’re going to watch and I’ll pretend to be the patient. We’ve got to hurry up because the nurses are setting things up now. If you want a cigarette you can smoke in here, but nowhere else, and I’ll have to ask you to wear these plastic bags on your feet.’
She handed me a pair of cellophane-looking boots and took me into the operating theatre to meet her nursing staff. They were young, lively and chatty, but Barbara bossed them about a lot and complained out loud about them to me. However, her way of doing it was very light-hearted and affectionate and the girls responded by laughing at her and pulling faces behind her back.
The afternoon went well. When it came to watching a real vasectomy operation, dressed up as a doctor, it wasn’t as bad as I had anticipated.
Barbara and her girls were helpful and enthusiastic, but Barbara enthused the most. As rehearsals went on she would often come to the theatre, or telephone, to ask how things were going and to offer her advice, wanting to take on a responsibility for the production that was unnecessary but endearing. All the actors and stage staff became fond of her, and she booked tickets for a party of twenty people on the opening night of the play. Barbara loved the theatre.
‘I’ve got an idea,’ I said to the family. ‘Barbara Brawnsley.’
‘Who’s Barbara Brawnsley?’ my mother asked.
‘She’s a nurse and she works at the vasectomy clinic. She’ll be able to help us out.’
‘Oh Peter, are you sure?’
‘Yes, it’s all right, Jessie. Everything’s going to be fine. I’ll go and telephone her now.’
‘Tell her to leave her scissors behind,’ Joe shouted after me. ‘I’ve got plans for the future.’
Dressed in an old gabardine raincoat, and a plastic headscarf covering her strange orange hair, Barbara arrived at the house twenty-five minutes later.
I took her straight to the kitchen to meet the family, who, after the initial shock, seemed just as taken with her as I was. She quickly made herself at home, sitting around the kitchen table chattering and drinking cups of tea.
After being given a brief summary of the situation, Barbara was very practical and professional, drawing up a comprehensive list of things that might be needed, which included items such as bedlinen, plastic undersheets, antiseptics, swabs and the necessary things that would make it easier to give Gloria bed baths.
‘Oh Nurse, it’s marvellous that you could come.’ My mother poured another cup of tea as Barbara lit her fourth cigarette. ‘All my nerves have gone and I’ve been in a terrible state, especially as I’m going to Australia early next week.’
‘Well, isn’t it a small world?’ Barbara exclaimed. ‘I lived in Australia for over four years. I was a nurse in Alice Springs. You’ll have a wonderful time, Australia’s a very nice place.’
‘Were you doing vasectomies over there?’ Joe asked with a grin on his face.
‘Oh no,’ Barbara replied. ‘I never touched a vas till I was over fifty, but I’ve done most everything else.’
My mother was reassured; Jessie was fascinated; and Joe was completely amazed.
‘Well, let me go and have a look at her,’ she said. ‘I must see what has to be done.’
‘The thing is, Barbara, Gloria doesn’t like nurses and has said that she doesn’t want one in the house. We have to be very delicate, I don’t want her to get frightened.’
‘That’s not a problem, Peter,’ she said between coughs. ‘Who’d ever think that I was a nurse? If it wasn’t for my qualifications I could easily be the patient.’
‘What’s that, Peter?’ Gloria focused on Barbara, sitting in the corner of the room.
‘That’s Barbara,’ I said.
‘Well tell her to go away.’
‘She�
�s come to help.’
‘I don’t want her help. Tell her to go away.’
Without saying anything, Barbara stood up and left the room. I followed out after her and joined her on the stairs.
‘I’m sorry, Barbara, but I did tell you it would be a bit difficult.’
‘Don’t worry, she’ll get used to me. As soon as I’ve given her a good bed bath and a back support she’ll feel much more comfortable.’
Barbara set to work immediately when we were back in the kitchen. She wanted to know what my mother had available in the house, and added some things to her list.
‘Now, it just so happens that I’ve got the weekend off from the clinic, so if you like I can be here most of the time.’
‘Oh, Nurse, that would be lovely.’ My mother’s face relaxed into a look of welcome relief. ‘It would be really lovely.’
‘Oh, I’m looking forward to it,’ Barbara beamed. ‘I’ve never had a film star through my hands before.’
I sat next to Gloria on her bed. She had a vacant look on her face.
‘Do you want me to fix your pillow?’ I said. ‘Do you want me to shade the lamp?’
Gloria didn’t respond.
I took hold of her left hand and began to clean her nails, but she had no idea what I was doing, so I stopped before I reached the thumb.
It was nearly time for me to leave for the theatre, so I closed the curtains and left the room.
‘That nurse has gone to the clinic to collect all the things on her list, but she’s coming back later,’ my mother said when I went to get my coat from the kitchen. ‘She’s a bit strange to look at but she seems to know what she’s doing. I think she’s a very nice woman.’
Knowing that Barbara liked gin, I quickly went out and bought a bottle before I left for the theatre so that she could fix herself a drink when she got back to the house. I was grateful she had come to help at such short notice.
The bus was empty except for a fidgety old man sitting on the seat nearest the driver, the one reserved for the aged. His body arched forward while his hands separated his knees. He wore a cap pulled over to one side and his shoes were newly Cherry Blossomed. Two seats in front of me sat a lonely woman holding a sleeping child.