‘I thought Davey told you,’ Grace said.
‘He said she was tired.’
‘Exhausted.’
‘Look at me.’
Grace met her eye.
‘Where is she?’
Grace put her bag down. ‘She’s fine. She’s in the hospital for observation. She’ll be out in the morning.’
‘What happened?’
‘A very, very mild heart attack.’
‘Jesus Christ,’ Rabbit said.
‘It’s fine, Rabbit.’
‘Promise?’
‘I promise.’
‘She’s out tomorrow?’
‘First thing, if she has her way.’ Grace picked up her bag again. She went to her sister and kissed her cheek. ‘It’s Ma.’ She didn’t need to say any more: it was understood that Ma was invincible.
‘Goodnight, Rabbit.’
Grace left, but Rabbit wasn’t alone for long: Linda appeared with her meds. ‘Still awake?’ she said.
‘Wide awake.’
‘How about breakthrough pain?’
‘I feel fine.’
‘Fine is good.’
‘Fine is better than good.’
Rabbit watched Linda fill a syringe. ‘Not yet. A few more minutes.’ Its contents would send her to sleep. She liked being back in time with Johnny but it was also nice to enjoy the present while she could. Linda put the hypodermic into a plastic bowl and sat down.
‘Michelle is the trouper, Jacinta is the singer. What’s your story?’
‘You heard about Michelle’s boyfriend, then?’
‘Really harsh.’
‘I met him at a few Christmas parties. She’ll do a lot better, but still living in the same house is a nightmare.’
‘I’d change the locks,’ Rabbit said.
‘Me too,’ Linda agreed. She seemed almost relieved that someone else felt the same. ‘Why doesn’t she do it?’
‘She plays by the rules.’
‘What about you, Rabbit? Do you play by the rules?’
‘Sometimes,’ Rabbit said, and smiled, ‘and others, you’ve just got to make them up as you go along.’
‘Amen,’ Linda said.
She was a medium-built woman with a dyed red bob and kept herself well, but Rabbit guessed she was in her early fifties. ‘Do you have kids, Linda?’
‘Two girls. One is an accountant and the other is training to become a vet.’
‘Do they have boyfriends?’
‘If they do, I don’t know about them. What about you? Any of those laughing hyenas yours?’
‘The girl. She’s twelve. Her name is Juliet.’
‘Beautiful name for a beautiful girl,’ Linda said.
‘She’s perfect,’ Rabbit said. ‘God, I hope this doesn’t destroy her.’
‘It won’t.’
‘You don’t know that. She’s already had a lot to deal with. What if my death is the thing that turns a beautiful, charming, intelligent girl into a wreck? What if it makes her sad, bitter and angry? What if it sends her on a path to a lifetime of misery?’
‘It looks to me like she has good people around her,’ Linda said.
‘She does, but she won’t have me.’
‘You trust her to get through it and you trust the people around her to help her through it.’
‘I have no choice, do I?’ Rabbit said.
‘No. All you can do is the best you can for her now.’
‘You’re right,’ Rabbit said. ‘Thank you, Linda. I’m ready for my injection now.’
Linda injected Rabbit and said goodnight. Rabbit waited for the liquid to surge through her veins to her head and eyes. She surrendered quickly to the darkness because she knew her old friend would be waiting.
Rabbit Hayes’s Blog
12 March 2010
Cancer 0 – Rabbit 1
I win! I win! I win! The cancer is gone. I received the all-clear this morning and I’ve been floating on air since. Juliet keeps jumping up and down and singing ‘YMCA’ for some reason. My mother cried, then blamed it on the menopause. (The woman is seventy.) My dad is so happy he whistled all the way home in the car, and when a man in a black Honda beeped him on the roundabout, he happily gave him the fingers. If you knew my father, you’d appreciate how out of character that is. He giggled as he did it. Life is good. Grace keeps squeezing me and Lenny keeps squeezing her. Marjorie is away on business but she hasn’t been off the phone.
We went out for a celebratory family lunch. My nephews lined up so sweetly to congratulate me, except Jeffrey, who was busy at the buffet counter. Ryan told me it was great news and not to worry: his mate’s ma had had cancer and it only took her a year to get her looks back, so that was lovely. That kid always makes me smile. I love all my nephews, of course, but watch this space for Ryan . . .
I can’t wait to talk to Davey tonight. I can’t wait to tell him that finally it’s over.
I have to go – I’m putting on my best wig, dress and ballet pumps (note to self: buy some decent shoes) and I’m going to the pub with my mother and my sister to have a proper drink. Roll on the rest of my life.
Rabbit Hayes. Over and out. X
DAY SEVEN
Chapter Thirteen
Davey
DAVEY WOKE UP to the radio playing downstairs. He showered and dressed, and by the time he hit the kitchen, Juliet had made scrambled eggs and toast. She ordered him to sit down. He did as he was told while arguing that he should be the one taking care of her.
‘Don’t be silly. I make breakfast for me ma all the time,’ she said, pouring him orange juice.
He sampled the eggs. ‘Delicious.’ He meant it.
‘The secret is cooking them in a little butter.’
‘Good to know.’
She sat down opposite him and sipped her tea.
‘Are you not eating?’ he asked.
‘Never hungry in the mornings. I can sew too,’ she said. ‘I mean, I’m not Dolce or Gabbana, but I’ve made a blouse and three skirts.’
‘Good for you.’
She smiled. ‘I can take care of you, Davey.’
He stopped eating and put down his fork. ‘Oh, Juliet, you don’t have to take care of me. I mean, I know I look like a dope and maybe I sometimes act like one, but I’m the adult, the one who looks after you, OK?’
‘I just want you to know that I’ll play my part.’
‘Just being a kid is playing your part and, Juliet, we have to talk to your ma. What she says goes, and I don’t know if she’ll want this for you.’
Juliet became quiet and reflective. Davey tried to engage her in other subjects, like cinema and music, and he even talked about clothes, but she didn’t bite. To someone who was unaware of what she was going through, it might have seemed that she was sulking, but Davey knew better: she was sad, confused, guilty and terrified. She didn’t have to talk if she didn’t want to. She excused herself and went to her room. He took the opportunity to ring Grace and ask after his mother. Juliet had not been made privy to Molly’s scare: she already had enough to worry about. Grace was on her way to pick her mother up from the hospital. She would take her home for a shower, then drop both parents to the hospice.
‘When are you leaving?’ Grace asked Davey.
‘Within the hour,’ Davey said.
‘OK. Ma isn’t supposed to drive for a few days and Da’s eyes have been too affected by the diabetes, so if I drop them, will you take them home?’
‘No problem.’
‘Great.’
He was about to hang up, but she added, ‘And, Davey, don’t get comfortable with having Juliet.’
She hung up before he could respond.
Davey answered the door to a boy. ‘You’re the uncle,’ the boy said.
‘You’re Kyle, the weird kid from across the road,’ Davey remembered.
‘I’m not weird.’
‘When you were four I caught you eating a worm.’
‘No, you didn’t.’
‘
You said yum-yum.’
‘No way.’
‘Juliet, you have a visitor,’ Davey shouted up the stairs. His phone rang so he answered it and walked away, leaving Kyle standing in the doorway. He didn’t recognize the number but when he answered he immediately knew the voice. It was his young girlfriend, Georgia.
‘Wanna hook up?’
‘No.’
‘You away?’
‘Yeah.’
‘How long?’
‘Not sure.’
‘Damn, I’m bored.’
‘Oh, well.’
‘Wanna talk dirty?’
‘Not really.’
‘What is up with you?’
‘My sister is dying.’
He heard a gulp followed by dead air. She stuttered a little. ‘Did you know her well?’
‘She’s my sister,’ he said slowly, as though he was talking to a two-year-old.
‘Yeah, sorry, brain fart.’
Another silence followed.
‘I should go,’ she said.
‘Yeah, you should.’ Davey hung up. He knew that that had been the last time he would speak to Georgia and it didn’t cost him a second thought. Grace is right. I don’t know what a real relationship is.
He was sitting at the dining table, halfway through his coffee and the newspaper, when Juliet appeared with Kyle.
‘There’s coffee in the pot. Wait – are you two old enough for coffee?’
‘Is he retarded?’ Kyle asked Juliet, who giggled a little.
‘I’m not the one who ate worms,’ Davey said, without looking up from his newspaper.
‘Me neither.’ Kyle pulled out the counter chair and sat up on it.
‘Clearly you don’t remember, but I do, yum-yum,’ Davey said.
‘He’s just joking. He told me once that I had to have a sixth finger removed from each hand when I was a baby,’ Juliet said.
‘I remember – it was around the time you thought you were an alien,’ Kyle said.
Davey chuckled. ‘She asked us all to call her Juliet Tron.’
‘I have a really good memory. I’d remember eating worms,’ Kyle said.
‘And you used to run around the garden with your Willy Wonka hanging out,’ Davey said.
‘No, I didn’t!’
‘I remember that!’ Juliet said, and Davey pointed at Kyle.
‘Nice work, by the way.’
Kyle huffed. ‘And he calls me weird.’
Juliet was amused, and even though Kyle wasn’t entirely happy with the content of the conversation, she’d seemed to forget about all the bad stuff. He knows what I’m doing and he’s playing along, Davey thought. Kyle had always been a good kid.
Juliet climbed into the car. Davey called Kyle as he reached the other side of the road, walked over to him and handed him a twenty-euro note. ‘Buy yourself something.’
‘It’s OK.’
‘You’re a good friend.’ Davey folded the money into his hand.
‘Are you really going to take her and look after her?’ Kyle asked.
‘There’s a lot to work out,’ Davey replied.
‘She’s counting on you,’ Kyle said. He thanked Davey for the money and walked away.
Davey got in behind the steering-wheel. ‘What was that about?’ Juliet asked.
‘Nothing,’ Davey said, but he was freaking out. What if Rabbit says no? What if Ma throws a fit and has another heart attack? What if I can’t do this?
She’s counting on you and Don’t get too comfortable with her were rushing around his head for the entire drive to the hospital. I shouldn’t have opened me big mouth. Jay was right, I’m not a parent. I’m the guy who makes promises that I’m not sure I can keep.
‘What are you thinking about, Davey?’ Juliet asked.
‘Nothing. You?’
‘Kyle running around the garden with his mickey out.’
Davey chuckled for Juliet’s sake, but his mind was elsewhere. Juliet is counting on you. Don’t get too comfortable with Juliet. Me ma is going to kill me.
Molly
Molly left the hospital with a prescription, a diet sheet and an appointment to see a specialist six weeks later. Grace wasn’t thrilled that her mother would be forced to wait so long, but Molly could reassure her that she was in no immediate danger and, other than a short argument about what was and wasn’t appropriate resting, the matter was resolved quickly. ‘I’m planning on sitting in an armchair in a hospice, not heading down a Chilean mine.’
Jack was waiting by the front door. He was ageing by the day, Molly thought. He hadn’t slept – he never did when he was in their bed without her – but insisted on making toast and tea while she showered. He’d even walked to the local shop and bought her favourite custard Danish.
Molly heard Grace and Jack whispering as she walked down the stairs. Their conversation ended abruptly when she entered the room. Her new diet plan was already fixed to the fridge. She sat in front of her unwanted toast and Danish and sipped her tea while Grace told them about the craic they’d had with Rabbit the previous night. ‘She’s much brighter, Ma.’
Molly was thrilled but also sad she’d missed out. Jack kept repeating that things were looking up, happy in the moment, mentally parking the fact that, although she was brighter, Rabbit was still dying, and that his wife might or might not have to undergo heart surgery. Molly loved Jack for that: she was a worrier, but once he had been given the smallest bit of positive news he ran with it. If anyone was Mr Brightside it was Jack. It was the reason she’d caved in and gone out with him in the first place.
When they had met, Molly’s heart had been set on another man. He was dating a friend of hers who was totally wrong for him, so it was only a matter of time before the relationship ended. Molly wasn’t known for her patience, but she was willing to wait. She was at the weekly dance, sitting with a friend, when Jack had approached to ask her onto the floor. She politely declined, saying she’d stubbed her toe. The following week came around quickly and this time Jack waited until she was sitting alone before he asked her onto the floor. Once again she politely declined: ‘If only it wasn’t for me bloody toe.’
‘Don’t worry,’ he said, and had a word with his best friend, Raymond. The first time Molly ever saw Raymond he was pushing a wheelchair towards her.
‘You’re not serious,’ she said, when Jack suggested he take her for a spin.
‘Just ten minutes on the floor.’
Even though she felt like an eejit, she sat in the chair, and in the ten minutes he spun her around, she forgot about the other fellow and finished the night dancing in Jack’s arms. When she asked him, weeks into their courtship, why he had persisted when he knew she was faking the injury, he told her that she was the type of woman who wouldn’t have bothered to lie if she hadn’t felt something. He was right. She asked how he knew.
‘You told my friend Joseph to eff off when he wouldn’t take no for an answer a month ago.’ It was clear he understood her. And he wasn’t intimidated by strength in women: he was attracted to it. Not to mention that he could find hope in a lie. Jack Hayes had revealed himself as one of a rare breed the day Molly had fallen in love with him.
Rabbit was clearly relieved to see her walk through the door. ‘You scared the shite out of me, Ma.’
‘Now you know how I feel,’ her ma said. Jack and Grace grinned.
Molly sat in the armchair and Grace and Jack took to the sofa.
‘I don’t want you staying long today, Ma,’ Rabbit said.
‘I’ll do what I want.’
‘I’ll have you thrown out.’
‘You wouldn’t.’
‘I would.’
‘Jesus, you’re harsh,’ Molly said.
‘She didn’t lick it off the stones,’ Jack observed.
‘Maybe I’ll go home for a sleep in the afternoon.’
Rabbit asked after her health but Molly didn’t want to talk about it. She kept saying it was nothing and not to worry. The girls pushed
it, but Jack, of course, knew better. It was no time before she blurted out, ‘Oh, for God’s sake, I’ll bury the lot of you!’ Then she said ‘Fuck’ quietly to herself, through gritted teeth. ‘I’m so sorry, love,’ she said. ‘It’s the auld one with the prosthetic arm all over again.’
Rabbit, Grace, Jack and, finally, Molly laughed.
Minutes later, Davey and Juliet arrived just in time to see Rabbit wipe away a tear of laughter.
That afternoon Molly lay in bed in her husband’s arms. They were both so terribly tired. He was the first to fall asleep. She watched the wall for a while and thought about all the things that needed to be done. Father Frank was waiting for her call. She was still determined that he bless Rabbit, with or without her consent, and now that she was in brighter form it was probably the best time to do it. She also needed to talk to him about a funeral. It was difficult to think about it but it had to be done. She needed to talk to Rabbit too. Does she want to be buried or cremated? Molly didn’t know. What kind of funeral would she like? Low key, probably, but Rabbit has many friends, and although it’s not appropriate for them to visit the hospice, they’d want to attend the funeral. What will she wear? She has so many beautiful clothes, but will they fit? Would she like to wear her wig, presuming she’d have an open casket – but then again would she want an open casket? She’d never really liked the spotlight. What kind of music? Do corpses wear shoes? I can’t remember what we did with Mammy but she was never a shoe person. Rabbit has lovely shoes . . .
Molly fell asleep.
Juliet
It was unseasonably warm when Juliet pushed her mother’s wheelchair through the garden. It had taken a lot to get her into the chair and the sight of her disabled body being pulled and lifted, the near-empty catheter with tiny droplets of urine on the inside of the see-through tube and the still raw, stitched, swollen and bruised leg, turned Juliet’s stomach. The memory of the injury was still too vivid. She pretended she was OK with everything and that it was all perfectly normal when her mother cried out in pain and bit her lip so hard it left a red mark. She backed away when Rabbit’s nightdress rode up, exposing her bare red backside, disappearing into the shadows to allow the nurse to manage her, momentarily pretending she wasn’t there. Davey had made no bones about where he stood. As soon as the nurse had pulled Rabbit’s blankets down, he had run out of the room as fast as his legs could carry him. Juliet didn’t want her ma to feel abandoned, so she’d stuck it out but wished she was with Davey, messing around and being normal. She battled with that guilt as she made her way to the bench in a pretty little spot among trees and fresh daffodils. She parked the chair and Rabbit inhaled the air, gazing up to the cloudless blue sky. ‘Feels like summer.’
The Last Days of Rabbit Hayes Page 25