The Goodbye Gift

by Amanda Brooke

  Paul shook his head as if her words didn’t make sense. ‘Why the hell didn’t you tell me?’

  ‘You weren’t there. You’d made your choice and I was left to make mine, limited as it was.’

  Paul’s body went limp and he didn’t protest when Phoebe stormed off. She began walking in the direction of home although at that point she didn’t care where she was heading as long as she was putting more distance between them.

  24

  The Accident

  Every time Anya walked past the side ward, she glanced towards the two beds nearest the door. Julia Richardson and Phoebe Dodd had spoken only briefly after Anya had left them earlier, and were now behaving as if they were complete strangers.

  Phoebe was the more alert of the two, while Julia spent most of her time sleeping, having again complained of feeling far too nauseous to stomach food. It was only when Anya or one of the other nurses checked on her that she had opened her eyes. Her gaze would inevitably settle on Phoebe and then she would close her eyes tightly again, as if desperate to return to her dreams.

  After catching up on paperwork, Anya should have taken her break but chose instead to make a call. She had promised Julia she would check up on her friend in the CCU and she wanted to give her some news, even if it was simply confirmation that there had been no new developments which, given Helen’s condition, was the best they could hope for at present.

  On her way back to deliver the message, Anya was confronted by another familiar face and before he had the chance to speak, she said, ‘I’m sorry, Mr Richardson, but you can’t see her.’

  ‘And I’m sorry, but I don’t care whether I have Julia’s permission or not,’ he said, ‘or yours for that matter.’

  Turning his back on Anya, Paul headed down the corridor. Despite his strong words, his steps were tentative and when he reached the open doorway to the side ward, he remained on the threshold where Julia would have seen him if she hadn’t been sleeping.

  ‘Maybe you should come back later,’ Anya suggested.

  Paul appeared not to hear her. His wife held his focus as he approached her bed. He reached out and touched her hand so gently that she would barely have felt it.

  ‘You told her, didn’t you?’ he said quietly.

  Anya only realized the question had been directed at someone other than herself when that person spoke.

  ‘Yes,’ Phoebe said.

  ‘Did you tell her everything?’

  Julia peeled open her eyes and recoiled from her husband’s touch. ‘You tell me,’ she said.

  25

  Julia set about making dinner as if she were a white witch concocting a magical potion to right all wrongs. The sun had set, and as she chopped vegetables and ground herbs, she kept to the warm pools of light from downlights that left deep pockets of shadow all around her. She was preparing a hearty stew that she would keep simmering on the stove until Paul came home.

  He had gone to the gym straight from work, having kept to a demanding regime despite losing his tag partner. Julia’s decision to slow down and relax had been an attempt to help her conceive and now that she knew her fitness wasn’t the main problem to be solved, she had lost her mojo. After going to the gym once already that week, she felt no inclination to return and with the holiday only four days away, there were more important things to do, and that wasn’t even including her packing.

  It had been two weeks since they had seen the consultant and Julia still wasn’t sure how Paul was dealing with the news; she wasn’t even sure how she felt for that matter. Their relationship had been under constant strain and it seemed as if each time they righted themselves after a wobble, something else came along. She couldn’t remember the last time she had felt contented and it was taking a concerted effort from one or both of them to do what had once come naturally. Julia’s stomach churned as she continued to grind the herbs using a large pestle and mortar. Something felt wrong; something that went beyond their physiological problems and it was unsettling her.

  She was busily stirring her Teflon-plated cauldron when she heard the front door open, followed by a shock of cold air that rushed down the hallway to stir up the cloud of steam rising from her witch’s brew. Pretending not to have noticed his arrival, Julia lifted a wooden spoon and blew gently before tasting. The herbs she had been prescribed by the Chinese herbalist a customer of hers had recommended purported to promote male fertility and was one of the few remedies they had yet to try. It wasn’t meant to be an overnight cure, but adding it to food two or three times a week might help improve the odds, just a little. Mixed with all the other herbs and spices in the stew, it couldn’t be detected and while she knew she ought to mention it to Paul, it smacked of desperation.

  Julia and Paul had been putting off talking about the full implications of the hospital results. They had said the things they were supposed to say to each other: how it was good knowing what they were up against, how they wouldn’t rush into making hasty decisions, and how, whatever they decided, it would be a joint decision. What that decision might be was the part they hadn’t yet faced.

  ‘That smells nice,’ Paul said.

  He was standing behind her and slipped his arms around her waist. His peppermint-scented breath warmed her ear. ‘So do you,’ she said.

  ‘I wouldn’t be too sure about that. Have I got time for a shower?’

  ‘Didn’t you have one at the gym?’

  ‘Too busy,’ he said. He kissed her neck, his lips lingering on her flesh for a moment as if he were so drained he needed to absorb some of her energy. He took a breath as he straightened up. ‘I won’t be long.’

  By the time Paul returned downstairs, dinner was ready and before he could suggest crashing out in front of the TV, Julia had set the table.

  ‘Have we had a power cut or something?’ he asked, looking suspiciously around the kitchen-diner where tealights twinkled on the table.

  ‘Ambience.’

  His smile almost hid the frown. ‘Am I being seduced?’

  ‘Do you want to be?’ she asked, knowing how he would be visualizing a calendar in his head, counting out the days. ‘And no, this isn’t a trap, I’m not ovulating. That particular window of opportunity has come and gone – and for the record, I didn’t check. There are no ulterior motives, Paul. I just want to remind my husband of what he’ll be missing next week.’

  ‘I already know what I’ll be missing,’ he said as he went over to the stew bubbling on the stove and tested a spoonful. He closed his eyes in pure ecstasy and groaned. ‘The most amazing home cooking for one thing.’

  ‘It had better be more than my culinary skills you’ll miss.’

  Paul watched as Julia went to the fridge and took out a fancy fruit cordial packaged up like a bottle of wine but fooling no one. ‘I hope you realize I’ll be living off takeaways and crates of lager while you’re away.’

  Gritting her teeth, Julia said, ‘I don’t suppose I can argue with anything you do. You’re a free agent for ten whole days.’ As she scrutinized his face, the paranoia she had thought she had conquered returned with a vengeance and she felt the need to add, ‘As long as you don’t forget you’re a married man.’

  Paul blushed. ‘Excuse me, you’re the one who’s about to gallivant around the world while I’ll be coming home from work to an empty house. Shouldn’t I be saying that kind of thing to you?’

  Their playful teasing had an edge to it and Julia had learned of late that it didn’t take much to tip either of them over the edge. ‘I really am going to miss you,’ she said and felt her heart ache a little. ‘I don’t even know why I agreed to go.’

  The pain she felt was reflected in Paul’s words. ‘Because you deserve a break from your fraud of a husband.’

  ‘You’re not a fraud, Paul,’ Julia said, knowing it was a label she would have readily applied to herself if the results had been different. ‘You are everything I could ask of the man I want to spend the rest of my life with. I’d be lost without you.’
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  ‘Does that mean I should worry about you finding your way back home?’ Paul said, trying to keep the conversation light.

  He wouldn’t look at her and was edging towards the dining table to escape the conversation he had inadvertently opened up until she put a hand on his arm. ‘No, never,’ she said.

  Paul’s shoulders sagged and she could see his jaw clench as he wrestled with his thoughts. When he spoke, there was such a clear note of defeat in his voice that it frightened her. ‘I’m sorry, Julia. I’m just so sorry.’

  ‘For what?’ she asked with a horrible, sinking feeling.

  He shook his head. ‘Nothing,’ he said, but then added, ‘But we do need to talk.’

  ‘Yes,’ she said, although suddenly it was the last thing she wanted. She had an irrational fear that Paul had more on his mind than she would want to know.

  They held off speaking again until the food was served and they had settled at the table with candlelight between them and shadows all around.

  ‘I’ve made such a mess of everything, and I know we’re not supposed to apportion blame, but it is my fault,’ Paul began, and when Julia tried to object he held up a hand. ‘Please, let me do this, Julia. I feel like we’ve been fighting against the tide for so long, in fact we still are, and I’m the one that’s dragging us down. We can skirt around the issues all we like and you can tell me that it’s a joint effort but the facts speak for themselves. For my sins, Julia, I can’t give you babies. I’m the one at fault, and it’s left me feeling …’ He dug his fingers into his eyes and when he dropped his hand, he was looking straight at her. ‘Emasculated, I suppose. I’ve let you down in the worst possible way and I can’t make things right.’

  A thousand thoughts buzzed inside Julia’s head and she struggled to grasp even one that might give Paul a response that would make him feel better. She wanted to tell him that it was completely and utterly wrong for him to blame himself, but she had already told him so on more than one occasion and it had done nothing to ease his conscience. The cause of their infertility could so easily have been rooted with her and for the last two years, that was what she had feared. ‘If you want me to say I think it’s your fault then I’m sorry but I can’t,’ she said. ‘However, I will accept that it’s a physical fault in your body that’s made it difficult for us to conceive a child, but it’s still our problem, Paul, not yours alone. We have to work through this together. We have to find a solution that suits us both, be that assisted conception, IVF, artificial insemination or even adoption. And if any or all of those options don’t work for us then I won’t blame you because it’s our problem, our joint responsibility. The only possible issue I’d have is if you didn’t want to try any more. We’ve had our break like you wanted but when we go back to see the consultant we need to give him an answer. We need to know what we want. I know what I want, Paul. Do you?’

  ‘I want you, Julia. I know that now more than ever and I’ll move heaven and earth to make you happy,’ he told her but there was still that note of defeat in his voice as if he thought he had already lost her.

  ‘This isn’t just about me, Paul. What makes you happy? Do you still want kids?’

  ‘What if I don’t deserve them? What if I don’t deserve you?’

  ‘Don’t you dare say that!’ Julia said, only just managing to keep her voice low. ‘Don’t let these stupid fertility results convince you that you’re any different to the man I married. You would make the most amazing father if only you had the chance. So, I ask again, do you still want kids, Paul?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘And are you willing to go through all the stresses and strains that are bound to come with whatever option we choose?’

  Despite Julia’s outburst, Paul looked all the calmer for it. ‘I can’t promise I’m going to find it easy, but then I don’t think you will either. If we go for medical intervention then it’s going to get very clinical and intrusive, and the more effort – and possibly money – we put into it, the more devastated we’re going to be if and when it doesn’t work. Are you ready for that?’

  ‘No,’ she said honestly. ‘But at the moment I feel like we’re dealing with this separately. We need to get back to a place where this feels like we’re in it together. We have to be open and honest with each other.’ As she spoke, her words became awkward and a flush rose to her cheeks.

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘I came across a herbal remedy.’ She looked meaningfully over at Paul’s half-eaten stew.

  ‘Why should I not be surprised,’ he said and thankfully laughed.

  ‘So do you have any confessions?’ she asked, wondering if he’d had a quick pint on his way home and that was why he had been eating mints before coming inside the house.

  Pushing his chair back, Paul got up and moved towards Julia. Dropping to his knees, he took her hand in his. ‘I love you, Julia. That’s my only confession.’

  She leaned towards him until their noses were touching. ‘And I love you so much it takes my breath away.’

  ‘Like this?’ he whispered and pulled her closer.

  Even as they kissed they were tumbling onto the floor, giggling like teenagers. When Paul lifted himself over her, Julia wrapped her arms around his neck and ran her fingers though his hair before grabbing his deep brown locks in her hands. She made him hold her gaze until his eyes cut so deep into her she felt them slice through the problems she had allowed to wrap around her. ‘I lost you for a while, didn’t I?’ she asked.

  ‘But I’m back now,’ he whispered.

  As he kissed and caressed her, Julia felt more complete than she had for years. In that moment, she didn’t want for anything else and she believed that Paul felt the same.

  While Paul spent the rest of the evening dozing on the sofa, Julia carried on with her packing. She was running out of time to get everything ready and still had one last day to spend at work, which was going to be a busy one. Her bespoke anniversary jewellery had become a phenomenon and she had already adapted the design in such a way that kept the anniversary pieces unique to her client while meeting the increasing demands for what was becoming a range.

  She wasn’t even going to have time to squeeze in some shopping in her lunch hour the next day because she had agreed to meet Helen. Her friend had already finished work because she needed the time to organize not only her own packing but Milly’s too and, understandably, it was breaking her heart. It was breaking Julia’s too although she knew her feelings were inconsequential in the scheme of things, and she would have to appear strong and resolute for Helen’s sake.

  Focusing on the matter at hand, Julia had her suitcase splayed out on her bed and was scratching her head as she tried to work out what she needed as opposed to what she wanted to take. Her wardrobe doors were open and she was desperately searching for a particular black dress that she could match with various accessories to suit different occasions, but it wasn’t there. When she had all but given up she found it crumpled at the back of the wardrobe, having fallen off its hanger where it had remained in the shadows gathering dust.

  ‘Damn, damn, damn,’ she said as she held it up to the light. She considered sponging the marks, but when she lifted it to her nose it had acquired a distinct mustiness that wasn’t going to be disguised by perfume.

  Even in her haste, Julia wouldn’t waste a wash cycle on one garment and hunted around for anything else to add to the load. The laundry basket was half-full, but still not satisfied, she went through Paul’s gym bag which he had left unopened in the bedroom on his way to the shower. She pulled out a scrunched-up grey T-shirt first and was about to fling it into the laundry pile when something stopped her. She unfolded it, not sure at first what had caught her attention or why there was a frown forming on her brow. It was dry, unstained and, sniffing it like a bloodhound that had just caught a scent, it smelled of fabric conditioner.

  With her hackles raised, she searched through the rest of the bag. His shorts did look used but given that he often
wore the same pair more than once, that wasn’t enough to settle her growing unease. As expected, the towel was unused because he had said he hadn’t showered at the gym and there at the very bottom of the bag was the small hand towel he took into the gym to mop up sweat while he was working out. That was most definitely used and she released a sigh of relief. What had she been thinking?

  She was being silly, she told herself, and Paul deserved better. The man who had held her in his arms, looked deep into her eyes and told her he loved her, hadn’t lied.

  What had she been thinking? she asked herself again.

  With a collection of shopping bags surrounding her like a force field, Helen was oblivious to the mutterings from fellow diners who tried to get past as she concentrated on sorting through the crisp till receipts acquired during her early morning shopping expedition.

  ‘You’ve been busy,’ Julia noted as she stepped over a Zara bag to reach a chair.

  ‘And I’ve bagged a few bargains,’ her friend announced proudly. ‘In fact, I think I’ve got just enough left to be able to treat us to lunch, although it’s a good job Phoebe couldn’t join us because that might have pushed me over my allocated budget.’

  Julia gave her a quizzical look. ‘You? Budget?’

  ‘Chris has been giving me some tips on how to manage my finances.’

  ‘Has he now? And what else has he been giving you?’

  ‘We’ve had a few meetings, that’s all.’

  It had taken a moment too long for Helen to assume her poker face and her smile gave her away.

  ‘They’re called dates, Helen, stop pretending they’re not.’

  Helen shrugged and said, ‘We’ll see.’

  She liked Chris. In fact, she liked Chris a lot, but she couldn’t be sure if he had entered her life at precisely the right, or precisely the wrong, time. She was going away just when she wanted to get to know him better, and they had certainly been getting to know each other intimately. But what if he lost interest while she was on holiday? On the positive side, she would have plenty of time to spare when she did get back – except, given how her stomach clenched whenever she thought of life without Milly the Millstone, it felt anything but positive. Helen was going to be a wreck when she came home to an empty house and no man could fill the void her daughter would be leaving behind.