by Paul Gait
‘Don’t worry I’ll get the investigators to track him down again and give him a Pay as you go one. At least we’ll be able to keep in touch.’
‘I think there are a few practical issues you should consider first though, like charging the phone, getting him to switch it on…umm, and topping up the pay as you go card.’
‘Please stop being so bloody negative all the time. Have you a better solution?’ Geoffery said angrily.
‘No, not at the moment,’ Andy said, annoyed at Geoffery’s outburst and switched his phone off without saying goodbye.
‘Bollocks,’ said Andy to himself. ‘I knew this was going to be a waste of time.’
CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE
Andy jogged off in in pursuit of James, determined not to let him slip away, and soon found him emerging from a shop, clutching another bottle.
‘You know you’re drinking yourself to death?’ Andy admonished.
‘You’re like a bad smell, that I can’t get rid of,’ James said, sidestepping him.
‘I mean it.’
‘Oh turn it off. At least it would be better than this life, wouldn’t it?’
‘It’s a horrible death,’ Andy said, knowledgeably.
‘You can’t tell me anything about it,’ James said, quietly. ‘My friend John used to sleep on the bench next to me. He went last week. Nice bloke. It all went wrong for him when he lost his job. They call it the redundancy domino effect. He then lost the lot, his self-respect, his wife, his home and subsequently his kids. The bitch divorced him, and even took out a court order to stop him seeing his kids. He came down here looking for work to get himself sorted. But nobody would take him on. He just lost all his dignity. But the bottle helped.’
‘That’s tragic,’ Andy sympathised.
‘We shared a bottle or two. He got ill. Eventually he started bleeding from every orifice. The doctors told him that unless he stopped drinking, he would be dead within a week. As he said to me. ‘What was the point of living anyway?’ So he carried on. Ignored their advice and…’James recounted, wiping a tear from his grubby cheek.
‘How dreadful.’
‘Next I hear, he’s been picked out of the gutter and didn’t make it out of A & E.’
‘Don’t you think that could be you, if you carry on with this life style?’
‘He’s in a better place. Perhaps that’s where I ought to be,’ said James resignedly.
‘You have a choice to live. You can do something with your life and improve your miserable existence,’ Andy said angrily. ‘The people I look after have no choice. Life has thrown them a bad deal too, but they have no opportunity to change things. They have no appeal against their death sentence. They are terminally ill. All the best efforts of the Doctors have failed to stop the inevitable,’ Andy said passionately.
‘Oh don’t do the guilt trip on me. It won’t work,’ James said, dismissing Andy’s comments out of hand. ‘Life hasn’t actually been kind to me either.’
Determined to drive his point home, Andy continued forcefully, ‘how do you think the mother of little three year old Tansin feels when she looks at her child and knows the leukemia will take her before she is four?’
‘Yeah, yeah. I’ve heard it all before,’ James said, walking away from Andy.
However, determined to make his point about the sanctity of life, Andy went after him and continued recounting his tragic anecdotes. ‘Then there is John, a budding fourteen year old musician who has….’
‘Enough,’ James shouted, stopping. ‘I know all about the hurt. The dreadful pain of losing somebody you love. My parents died when I was only eight.’
‘Yes I know,’ Andy said, sympathetically, recalling James’s background from his briefing by Geoffery.
‘Do you know what it’s like to want somebody just to give you a cuddle, when you’ve hurt yourself? Or to tell you how clever you’ve been when you achieve some academic success? I don’t even know what it’s like to feel the love of a family.’
‘Surely your guardians gave you some love?’
‘My guardians were distant, emotionally detached. They did the functional parental duties, made sure I was never short of money, but never gave me any love or even a simple hug.’
‘That’s so sad,’ Andy said; thinking of how often he cuddled his own children and also spent hours reading them stories.
‘When I met Sebastian at University, he showed me thoughtfulness, affection, caring and love. We were together for five wonderful years and then…’
‘Yes?’ Andy said, encouraging James to open up.
‘He left me. Can you imagine my hurt? It was like my heart had been ripped out.’
‘No I can’t. It must have been horrible.’
‘His new lover gave him HIV. His gentle heart couldn’t stand the treatment regime.’
‘What happened?’
‘He moved back home with me when his new lover threw him out. I found him dead in the bedroom when I returned from getting his medication.’
‘I’m so sorry. It must have been horrendous for you?’
‘That was the start of how I ended up here.’
‘What about all your other friends?’
‘Yeah, they helped me forget. But only while I held lavish parties with lots of booze and drugs. When the money disappeared, so did my so called ‘friends’. So now you know.’
‘Could Geoffery have done anything to have helped you?’
‘Why would he, he never really knew me anyway.’
‘On the contrary, if he had been there during your school days…’
‘Come off it. He was having too good a time, making his own millions, to have bothered with a snotty nosed boarding school kid. No, he was emotionally detached from me as well.’
‘Well, he wants to help you now and would like to keep in touch with you. He says I’m to buy you a Mobile phone.’
‘I don’t know why he’s got a guilty conscience. He doesn’t owe me anything,’ James said forlornly.
‘It’s a long story. Now, let’s find a phone shop and get you that mobile,’ Andy said patiently. ‘Come on lets go.’
CHAPTER TWENTY SIX
Geoffery had decided to take the bull by the horns and telephone Kay, the mother of his Godson, Tim Springfield. He had discovered she lived nearby in Churchup.
He listened patiently as the number rang out until finally a woman’s voice answered.
‘Hello, who’s calling?’ She said.
‘Kay?’
‘Yes, who’s this?’
‘Geoffery, Geoffery Foster.’
‘Geoffery?’ The line went quiet as she struggled to comprehend the name with the sound of a voice she hadn’t heard for decades. ‘Geoff is that really you?’ she said, quietly, in surprise.
‘Yes it’s me Kay. Can I pop round to see you?’
‘Pop round! Well, the last time I heard about you, you were in Monaco.’
‘No I’m in a…a hospice near Cheltenham; It’s a long story. I’ll tell you later, if it’s OK to come over?’
‘A hospice? Oh dear!’ she said, shocked. ‘Well, yes, of course. Do you know where I live?’
‘Yes, don’t worry. I’ll be there shortly, if that’s convenient?’
‘Yes, um, that’s fine,’ she said looking around, quickly assessing the tidiness of the house.
Kay was amazed to hear from Geoffery after so many years. It was a bolt from the blue. They had been so close once and then he started making money and his life had changed. Their relationship had broken down when he attracted other women to his increasing luxuriant life style. ‘Bees around a honey pot,’ she recalled.
As Andy had taken the Mercedes to London, Geoffery hired a taxi to take him to Kay’s small house. He didn’t know what sort of reception to expect, so he asked the Taxi driver to wait. It would be so strange seeing her after those years. The investigators photographs showed that she had let herself go.
After a brief journey, the taxi pulled up outside a
neat semidetached, single storey house. Geoffery looked at the red bricked dwelling as the Taxi driver opened the door and helped him out. Thoughtfully he then opened the gate into Kay’s property.
‘Obviously looking for a big tip,’ Geoffery thought cynically.
As Geoffery made his way slowly along the short tarmac path towards the front door, he noted changes that had been made to the property for disabled access. The ramp instead of steps; the large tubular steel handrails either side of the path and the grab handles bolted to the wall either side of the widened front door. Aids installed to ease Tim’s daily life, he reasoned.
The door opened shortly after he had taken his thumb off the bell push. Kay stood in front of him. She didn’t have the advantage of already knowing the effect of the years on Geoffery. Her face questioned the visitor. Then her eyes latched on to his and she knew. The gaunt old man in front of her was Geoffery. It was a shock.
‘Geoffery,’ she said, stepping forward and giving him a gentle kiss on the cheek. ‘You haven’t changed at all,’ she lied.
‘Kay, it’s so good to see you,’ Geoffery said, thickly. ‘It must be over thirty years.’
Kay led the way into a sparsely furnished room. The furniture it did contain, was widely spaced. Tim was sitting at a games console, intent on his game.
‘He was even fatter in real life than his pictures indicated,’ thought Geoffery.
‘Tim, this is Mr Foster,’ said Kay, introducing Geoffery.
‘Yeah,’ grunted Tim, still focused on his game.
‘Hello Tim. Pleased to meet you,’ said Geoffery, going over to the hunched figure, his hand outstretched.
‘Yeah,’ Tim said, his eyes still riveted to the screen His fingers deftly working a multifunction controller.
Embarrassed at not getting a greeting from Tim, Geoffery dropped his attempted handshake.
‘Tim, I think we’d better turn that off while Mr Foster is here, don’t you?’ asked Kay, gently.
‘Can’t. I’m in the middle of a game. I’m winning,’ said Tim, engrossed.
‘Mr Foster has come to see us both so come on, switch it off please,’ said Kay, pleadingly.
‘Now look. I’ve lost a life, stupid woman,’ he said angrily.
Please, just for a second. It’s rude to ignore guests.’
‘He’s your guest. Go somewhere else if you want to chat. Shit, now I’ve lost another life, That’s your fault, you idiot.’
Kay made her way to the switch on the wall.
‘Don’t you dare touch that,’ warned Tim vehemently.
‘Well, stop playing for a while and talk to Mr Foster,’ she pleaded.
‘No, it’s alright honest,’ interjected Geoffery, surprised at Tim’s rudeness.
‘Now look, I’ve lost the game and my world standing. Thanks for nothing, you stupid bitch.’
Angry, Tim powered his wheelchair out of the room.
‘Tim, come back.’
‘Piss off,’ he said, as he disappeared into the hallway.
‘Geoffery, I’m sorry. He’s not normally like that. Please sit down, you look very tired,’ she said indicating the settee.
‘Thanks. I will,’ Geoffery said, lowering himself slowly on to the worn two seater. Kay sat next to him in a lounge chair.
‘Tim’s obviously not well,’ said Kay, defensively.
‘On the contrary,’ thought Geoffery. ‘This was his normal behaviour, judging by the investigator’s surveillance material.’
‘You shouldn’t allow him to talk to you like that,’ Geoffery admonished. ‘That’s disgraceful behaviour. You’re his Mother. He should show you some respect. I might be speaking out of turn, but I think you’ve got a right slob there haven’t you?’
‘What! How dare you come back into my life and tell me what to do with my own child,’ Kay countered, angrily.
‘Come on, look at him,’ Geoffery replied, incredulously.
‘No you look at him. Where were you, when we found out he had meningitis? Where were you, when they told me they had to amputate his little legs? Where were you, when George left me because he couldn’t cope with a three year old crippled son? Where were you, when Tim was being bullied and broke his heart at the hurtful names he was being called?’ she demanded angrily.
‘I was….’Geoffery tried to respond.
‘I tell you where you were…living it up in Monaco. Screwing all the women you could get your lecherous hands on. Not giving me, or your son…I mean godson a thought,’ she quickly corrected herself. ‘So don’t come here with your high and mighty ways, telling me I haven’t brought my son up properly. I’ve done the best I could. I’ve sacrificed everything for him,’ Kay continued, slumping back into her chair.
‘Son? You said son!’ said Geoffery, puzzled.
‘What? Oh, that was my mistake. I meant Godson,’ said Kay into her hands.
‘Look, I know it’s been tough. I’m sure you’ve done more than any mother should. I appreciate what you’ve sacrificed. But does he?’ Geoffery asked, trying to placate her.
‘Of course he does,’ said Kay, dejectedly.
‘He’s obviously got a big chip on his shoulder,’ Geoffery said, summarising his first impressions of Tim.
‘Yes, but I’m the reason for that,’ Kay said, guiltily. ‘If only I’d spotted that dreadful disease earlier. Perhaps he would still have his legs. He would have had a normal life; be a different person.’
‘You can’t blame yourself for that,’ Geoffery said, trying to placate her.
‘Well I do. If I had been more…more vigilant.’
‘Listen. Please,’ said Geoffery, forcibly. ‘The Doctors are trained to spot this sort of thing, and by the sounds of it, even they missed the early signs.’
‘I am his Mother. I should have been more aware.’
‘So what difference do you think it would have made, even if you had spotted it earlier?’
‘He’d still have his…’
‘Legs?’ Geoffery said, interrupting. ‘Do you really think so? Once he was unfortunate enough to get the virus, there was probably nothing that, either you or the Doctors, could have done to save them.’
‘If only I’d…..’ Kay whispered, distantly, her eyes filling.
‘You did all you could. You saved his life. Just keep that thought in your mind.’ ‘Yes, but not his legs,’ Kay said earnestly, looking at Geoffery. ‘Not his legs.’
‘You saved his life, and it looks like you’ve given him your own,’ said Geoffery quietly.
‘It was my duty,’ she said emphatically.
‘Duty! Duty! It was your duty to love him, and care for him. To put him into a safe environment, but then make him independent. Not to throw away your own life on a thoughtless individual who is so self-centred, that he won’t even wipe his own arse.’
‘That’s not true he is…, does wipe….’
‘You know what I mean,’ Geoffery said impatiently.
‘It’s not that easy. He’s a grown up. He’s a man.’
‘Exactly. So he should be acting like one.’
‘I know but…’
‘Kay, just take stock of things for a second. Where is your life, your independence?’
‘Look, I don’t know where this is leading to…’ Kay said, irritably.
‘It’s leading to you getting your own life back.
‘I have my life and I’m very….’
‘Happy? Have you looked in the mirror recently?’
‘What?’ said Kay, shocked at the inference.
‘The mirror,’ repeated Geoffery. ‘Your glum face. Your appearance.’
‘I haven’t got time to waste on putting on all that muck,’ Kay said, tearfully.
‘Where is that beautiful face that I once kissed? The soft silky hair that I stroked. The body that I worshipped?’ Geoffery said, gently holding her hand.
‘We all get old,’ Kay countered, wearily. ‘Look at you.’
‘Old. Yes. But not dowdy,’ Geoffery sa
id harshly, trying to goad her into a self-examination.
‘How dare you say things like that?’ Kay said, pulling her hand away. ‘You come into my house; insult me and my son…’
‘I’m sorry. That was a bit cruel,’ Geoffery said realising he had gone too far. ‘Look, I didn’t come here to upset you.’
‘Well, why did you come? Is this your guilt trip before you die?’ said Kay, cruelly, trying to return the hurt.
‘Guilt trip! Yes I suppose it is,’ Geoffery agreed. ‘I’d not thought of it like that.’
‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it,’ said Kay mortified at her own words. ‘That was a hateful thing for me to say,’ she continued apologetically, grabbing his hand, and gently sandwiching it between hers.
‘No, it’s alright,’ he said gently. ‘I have faced up to my mortality. Yes, I guess I am trying to make amends.’
‘Oh, I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me,’ Kay said, distraught at her insensitivity.
‘Look; now about your son. If I can help you by making Tim stand on his own two feet,’ Geoffery said, thoughtlessly.
‘Geoffery!’ chided Kay.
‘I’m sorry. That was indelicate wasn’t it? What I meant to say is…If I can help by getting Tim to be more independent, and consequently taking some of the strain off you. I figure I would be doing both of you a favour.’
‘Why? Why would you do that? What’s the point?’
‘Well, you’ve got admit, your life isn’t exactly a bunch of roses, is it?’
‘No, but then my life is…’
‘Don’t say over. When you’re staring at the scan, and the tumour is unstoppable… then you can say it’s drawing to a close,’ Geoffery admonished. ‘You have your health. You deserve a better life. Not playing the devoted fulltime carer to an ungrateful, idle son; somebody who should be making their own way in the world.’
‘I can’t. It’s too late.’
‘No it’s not. While you’ve got a breath in your body you can get back your self-esteem. Resurrect that fun loving, headstrong girl that I fell in love with all those years ago.’
‘I don’t know.’
‘If you won’t do it for yourself, do it for him.’