sUnwanted Truthst

by Unwanted Truths (epub)

  Jenny stared at her. She had a squint, which Jenny tried to ignore. ‘A growth – you mean cancer?’

  ‘Yes, but you’re not to worry. We find that in elderly patients it’s very slow growing. Your father will probably die of something else before it grows large enough to affect him. It was probably that that caused the pleurisy. He’s a heavy smoker isn’t he?’

  ‘Does he know?’ She couldn’t decide which eye to focus on.

  ‘No, as I said it’s very slow growing. There’s nothing to be gained by telling him, but, as his daughter, you should know. I understand your mother’s not a well woman.’

  ‘No, she isn’t. Thank you for telling me.’

  *

  ‘Hello Mum.’ Jenny planted a kiss on her mother’s forehead. ‘How are you?’

  ‘All the better for seeing the children; look at them, they love making pastry.’

  ‘You’ve got more patience than me with them.’

  ‘Granny’s made her special soup for us.’ Nicky wiped the back of his hand across his nostrils leaving a moustache of self-raising flour on his upper lip.

  ‘I told you she would, didn’t I?’ Jenny smiled at her son. During school terms she would visit her parents most Sundays. Robert would usually come too, unless there was a model train exhibition within driving distance. She knew how much they looked forward to seeing their grandchildren, and it made her feel good to see them happy. Since the day she had brought Lorna home from the hospital, she had hardly thought about her adoption. Occasionally, she would read an article in a magazine, but her attention was soon diverted. In 1975 she read that a law had been passed that enabled adopted adults to be given information about their birth families. She had read the article with a detachment that surprised her, and promptly used the sheet to wrap up the vegetable peelings.

  ‘Can we get down now?’ Lorna was half off the chair already.

  ‘What do you say?’ said Jenny

  ‘Thank you for the soup Granny.’ Lorna grabbed her doll from the table and ran out of the kitchen.

  ‘Can I see your medals Granddad?’ asked Nicky.

  ‘You can see your Great-Granddad’s too if you wipe your fingers. He was a soldier in the First World War.’ Charlie smiled and led Nicky by the hand into the bedroom.

  ‘I see someone’s moved into the flat next door, Mum.’

  ‘Yes, an unmarried mother and her baby. That’s council policy now. Once the decent families move away, they put those girls and their babies in these flats. We get men coming round at all hours of the day and night. I expect there’ll be one in here when we’ve gone.’ Alice’s mouth set in a tight line.

  Jenny stared at the check tablecloth. She hated it when her mother spoke like that. It wasn’t the words, but her tone; it made her feel uncomfortable, as if it was a slight on herself.

  ‘Look what Granddad’s given me.’ Nicky burst into the kitchen flourishing a brass button, ‘It’s got an elephant on it.’

  ‘So it has.’ Jenny stared at the button.

  ‘It used to be on my uniform. Our regimental badge had an elephant on it too. I’ve got more, he can keep that one. Where’s Lorna? It’s time for some capital cities.’

  ‘She’s in the sitting room Dad.’

  ‘India,’ Charlie’s voice carried into the kitchen.

  ‘New Delhi,’ Lorna answered.

  ‘Kenya.’

  Then Nicky’s voice, ‘Nairobi.’

  ‘Shut-up, I’m doing this with Granddad not you.’

  ‘Hey Lorna, don’t push him,’ Charlie said, and started coughing.

  ‘Jenny, I’m just going to lie down for a bit,’ said Alice. ‘I’m exhausted once I’ve prepared lunch, what with this pain in my side as well. I suppose I’ll have to go to the doctor.’

  ‘You haven’t coloured your hair lately Mum.’

  ‘No, I can’t be bothered anymore. It can stay grey now.’ Alice put both hands on the table to ease herself from her chair, and disappeared into her bedroom. She returned almost immediately carrying a brown envelope. ‘I want you to look after this for me.’

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘It’s just some money that I’ve saved from our pensions.’

  ‘Can’t you keep it here? You might want to go on holiday somewhere.’

  ‘Well if we do, I’ll ask for it. We’re not getting any younger and I don’t want anything to happen to it. Put it in your bag.’

  ‘I think Dad’s lost some weight. Is he alright?’

  ‘You know your Dad, he never says much. All he says is, “don’t worry Gal. Old soldiers just fade away.”’

  ‘Does he cough a lot?’

  ‘No more than usual.’

  ‘You go and rest Mum. I’ll do the clearing up.’

  ‘Look, what I’ve found,’ Lorna ran into the kitchen holding a book that Jenny recognised from her childhood.

  ‘I loved that book; especially the pictures of the lions and elephants. I haven’t seen it for ages.’

  ‘Can I take it home?’

  ‘No – leave it here. You can look at it when we come over then.’

  ‘You know what a cheetah is, don’t you?’ Charlie had recovered his voice which echoed through the flat.

  ‘Yes, you told me last time Granddad. It’s the fastest animal in the world.’

  ‘Good boy. Well when I was in India this Maharaja – that’s an Indian prince – had two of them. He would take them for walks on a lead just like dogs. They were so tame. Then one day my bull terrier Major…’ Jenny poured the washing up water away and went into the sitting room.

  ‘Come on you two, we have to get back.’ Nicholas and Lorna were sitting on either side of Charlie on the sofa. Nicky’s eyes shone like polished emeralds as he looked up at his grandfather.

  ‘No, I don’t want to go. Why do we have to go back? It’s too soon. I want to stay here. I want to hear another story about India.’

  ‘Go on son; do as your mother says. I’ll tell you another one next time.’

  *

  Jenny stared out of the kitchen window into the garden; she had planned to finish her homework once they were home, but she couldn’t concentrate. Lorna and Nicky were careering around the tent pretending to be Red Indians. Lorna usually refused to be drawn into Nicky’s games, but was hollering louder than her brother. Jenny hoped that her neighbours were out. A pair of blue tits ignored the noise as they flew to and fro to the nest box that she had attached to the plum tree. Jenny was worried. She was sure that her father had lost weight, and her mother had a yellowish tinge to her skin that she hadn’t seen before. She went over to the kitchen chair, reached inside her handbag and felt the brown envelope. She could feel the notes inside. Her mother had said it contained money, but it might also have information about her. She decided she’d better not open it as she might have to give it back. Taking the envelope upstairs she opened the linen cupboard and sandwiched it between two tea towels advertising the charms of Guernsey. Returning to the kitchen she made herself a cup of tea and sat at the kitchen table flicking through a Cosmopolitan magazine. “You too can have multiple orgasms”. The heading jumped out at her, above the soft focus picture of a glamorous woman with parted lips showing perfect teeth. As she read the article she thought that Robert would say it had been written by a bra-burning lesbian. He always said that whenever he saw the magazine. Perhaps he felt threatened. She wondered why she bothered to buy it – as most of the articles didn’t seem relevant to her life.

  *

  ‘Well they are getting on a bit, aren’t they?’ said Robert.

  ‘Mid-seventies isn’t old; not these days.’ Jenny cleared the remains of their dinner onto a sheet of newspaper.

  ‘Well they’ve had their three score years and ten.’

  ‘You wouldn’t be so blasé if we were talking about your parents,’ Jenny said, thinking that Maggie was never ill. She would probably live to be over a hundred.

  ‘Of course I’m concerned. I’m just trying to make you
feel better.’

  ‘Well you’re not doing very well, are you?’ Jenny turned and shouted as the lid fell on the waste bin. She picked up her magazine, went into the dining room and poured herself a glass of Liebfraumilch. She knew what Robert would do now. He would go down into the basement and play – although he would dispute that word – with his model railway. The room resembled an underground version of Clapham Junction. Then precisely one hour later – there was obviously a station clock down there somewhere – he would emerge. Jenny went into the lounge. Shrieks of laughter rippled down the stairs. If she was lucky she would have half an hour to relax before she had to gather all of her strength, and persuade Nicky that it was bedtime. She flicked over the pages until she arrived at the headline “What Men Want”. Why am I reading this? she thought, after scanning the first paragraph. Do I care what men want? She couldn’t imagine Robert reading an article headed “What Women Want”.

  7

  August 1981

  Dad’s agreed to come and stay with us, so you don’t have to worry.’ Jenny leaned forward on her chair and patted her mother’s hand.

  ‘He says he does himself a meal when he gets back, but I know he doesn’t bother. He’s always been the same – rather go hungry than cook for himself,’ Alice sighed and seemed to disappear as she sank back into the pillows.

  On a stand above Jenny’s head dangled a polythene bag of blood labelled “A negative”, broadcasting her mother’s blood group to the ward. Jenny avoided looking at it, thinking that what flowed into her mother’s veins was a private matter.

  ‘I’ll be out of here soon, Jenny. I felt so much better after the last transfusion.’

  Jenny looked across the ward. ‘I can’t get used to seeing men in here, Mum. It feels – wrong somehow.’ Jenny averted her eyes as the man in the bed opposite tried, with some difficulty, to manoeuvre his legs over the side of his bed.

  ‘I’m too tired to care Jenny.’

  ‘It’s hot outside. Lorna’s going to the Isle of Wight for a week tomorrow with the Brownies. She was up at six today packing. Do you remember when you and Dad took her there for the day? She never stopped talking about it.’

  ‘Yes, it was a good day,’ Alice sighed again.

  ‘I’ve left Nicky at the flat. So when I collect him, I can help Dad pack a few things.’

  ‘It’s a good job you had your holiday at the end of July.’ Alice’s eyelids began to droop.

  ‘Yes, it was,’ Jenny had thought the same herself.

  ‘When do they… go back to… school?’ Alice’s voice trailed.

  ‘Two more weeks yet,’ Jenny replied, but her mother was asleep.

  *

  ‘Take a seat Mrs Maynard.’ The doctor sat down behind his desk. ‘Your mother’s done very well. It’s been twelve years since her operation?’ He looked down at the file on the table, and then peered over the rim of his glasses which had slipped down his nose.

  ‘Yes, I think the grandchildren keep her going.’

  ‘I’m sure you’re right. But I’m afraid the cancer’s spread to her liver and there’s nothing further we can do surgically, but we can keep her comfortable. The transfusions are helping with her anaemia, so she shouldn’t feel so tired.’ He pushed his glasses over the bridge of his nose.

  Jenny wished that she hadn’t asked to see him, but there was never a doctor around at visiting times.

  ‘We’ll keep her here until there’s a vacancy at Copper Cliff. I expect you’ve heard of it – the nursing home in Withdean?’

  Jenny’s heart raced, she was no longer listening. Of course she’d heard of it – everyone had – ‘You know she’s gone to Copper Cliff, don’t you?’ The news was always conveyed in hushed tones and the response would be a nod and a solemn face.

  ‘Don’t worry. We’ll make sure that her pain is controlled.’ He wriggled his nose in an effort to keep his glasses from slipping back down, got up, walked around his desk and rested a hand on her shoulder. ‘I’m sorry it’s bad news.’

  Jenny’s footsteps echoed along the long hospital corridor and reverberated inside her head. Robert was waiting outside. ‘She’s dying Robert,’ Jenny broke down as she sat in the passenger’s seat. ‘What am I going to tell Dad?’ she sobbed.

  Robert pulled her towards him and hugged her. ‘You don’t have to say anything Jen. I’m sure he knows.’

  ‘You think so?’ she sniffed.

  ‘Yes, I do.’

  *

  Jenny looked up and searched the azure sky. The swifts have gone, she thought, wishing that she could just see one – a straggler from up north – but the sky was empty apart from a lone seagull and the vapour trail of a plane. That’s it for another year. They’re probably in the South of France now, screaming over the gite we rented. When they’re here, everything seems alright with the world, now…

  She lingered in the shade of a horse-chestnut tree that fronted Preston Manor House. When they had first moved to Brighton, she had missed living close to the Downs, but now, she couldn’t envisage living anywhere else. Stepping back into the late afternoon heat she crossed the main London to Brighton road to a small corner supermarket. Emerging with a bulging carrier bag she decided that as it was still early, she would walk along to the rockery. She sat on a wooden bench in the shade. Opposite, half a dozen stepping stones bridged a large irregular-shaped pond containing at least a dozen overfed goldfish. A small boy was jumping from stone to stone. Every time he landed he turned to his mother and shouted, ‘Look at me!’

  Jenny wondered what she was going to tell Lorna and Nicky. They knew their Granny was ill, but assumed it was only a matter of time before she was better. They kept asking when she was going home.

  ‘I want to stay here!’ the small boy screamed. Jenny stood up, thinking that she had enough screaming children at home. She crossed the main road and passed a hollow elm tree, one of a pair that had seeded and grown for centuries. They’ve seen so many things, she thought, our lives are so short in comparison.

  Crossing the road from the park, she spotted Nicky waving at her from outside their front gate. She smiled and waved back. As she walked nearer she heard him.

  ‘Mummy, quick, it’s Granddad. He’s fallen over.’

  Jenny ran towards their gate and dropped her shopping on the tiled path. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Quick, he’s fallen over. Lorna’s with him.’

  Jenny ran through the open door, along the hallway and into the kitchen. Her father was lying at the bottom of the concrete steps that led down from the side door to the back garden.

  ‘Thank God you’re back. It’s my leg. It’s painful when I try to move it.’

  ‘Well don’t move it then. What on earth were you doing?’

  ‘I was going to mow the lawn while you were out. I missed my footing that’s all. Can I have my cigarettes?’

  ‘Lorna, go and get Granddad his cigarettes, and the matches. For God’s sake Dad, you didn’t have to do that. Robert will do it at the weekend. I’ll have to phone for an ambulance now.’

  ‘Course you won’t woman. There’s no need for that. Just help get me up.’ Jenny took one arm, while Charlie gripped the railing with the other arm. ‘It’s no good,’ he puffed. ‘I can’t put any weight on the bugger.’

  *

  The accident and emergency doctor strode over to Jenny. ‘I’m afraid your father’s broken his femur. He’ll need an operation. Hopefully, we can fit him in tomorrow.’

  Jenny stared at the specks of blood on his white coat, and hoped they weren’t her father’s. ‘Oh no, my mother’s seriously ill.’

  ‘I’m sorry, but he has to stay in. I’ll ask the nurse to get you some tea. You can go and see him now. Stay as long as you want.’

  ‘Mummy, why has that girl got bandages around her wrists?’ Nicky tugged at Jenny’s arm.

  ‘Shh, not so loud, I don’t know. Go and get a comic.’

  8

  September 1981

  The nursing
home stood in the shadow of a hangar of beech trees. Jenny carried a bunch of orange gladioli up the carriage drive and pushed the doorbell. Alice had been admitted a week ago, and Jenny had visited every day with Charlie. But today she was alone.

  Her heart sank as she crossed the polished hallway and climbed the sweep of stairs to the first-floor bedroom. Opening the door she thought that her mother was asleep so laid the flowers on her bed, and stepped over to the large bay window. The manicured lawn was surrounded by neat borders filled with late summer blooms. She thought how her mother would have loved the garden. It was unfair that she was only here when she was too ill to enjoy it.

  ‘Hello dear.’

  Jenny turned, ‘Hello Mum, I thought you were asleep. I’ve brought your favourite flowers,’ she said picking them up. ‘I thought they would remind you of your garden.’ She kissed her mother on her cheek, feeling the bone through her paper thin skin.

  ‘They’re beautiful.’

  Jenny noticed her pupils, they were like pinpricks. Is that the morphine? Should I tell her about Dad’s accident? She must wonder why he isn’t here.

  ‘You look comfortable, Mum.’

  ‘Mmm… I am.’

  ‘You’re not in any pain are you?’

  ‘No, not now, they’re giving me injections.’

  ‘Good,’ Jenny said, thinking that her mother sounded hoarse.

  ‘You can sit on the bed. They won’t mind.’

  ‘I’ll change the flowers.’

  ‘No, leave them for now,’ her voice became stronger. ‘Sit here for a moment.’

  Jenny’s heart raced as she thought she was going to ask why she was on her own.

  ‘You must go and see if you can find your father.’

  ‘I thought I’d give Dad a break this evening,’ Jenny said, glad that she didn’t have to lie.

  ‘No, no.’ Alice moved her head from side to side on the pillow.

  What does she mean? I’ll have to tell her about the accident now.