Bear With Me

by Jessica Redland

  ‘At least you know why he ended it,’ I suggested, stroking Drew’s back as though he was a baby. ‘I know it’s a crap reason, but at least it’s a reason.’

  The sobs slowed down until Drew was able to let go of me.

  ‘Sorry,’ he said, sitting back in the chair and wiping his eyes with his sleeve. ‘I don’t know where that came from. I never cry.’

  ‘Not even when he first ghosted you?’ Sam asked.

  ‘Never.’

  Sam nodded. ‘Grief. You’ve bottled it up for three years. It’s just found its release.’

  Drew ran his fingers through his dishevelled hair. ‘I had no idea he hated the comic book thing.’ He looked at Sam. ‘You’re into all that, right?’

  ‘Not really the comics, but I love the movies. Marvel or DC Comics. It’s all good.’

  ‘You don’t think it’s just for kids, though?’

  Sam shook his head. ‘I don’t think anyone has a right to pigeon hole anyone’s hobbies or interests. They’re what makes us unique, whatever age we develop them and however long we continue them. Don’t you think so, Jemma?’

  ‘Hey, you’re looking at the woman who plays with bears for a living,’ I said, ‘although I dumped the guy who introduced me to his parents as that.’ I looked at Drew. ‘You really had no idea he didn’t like comic books and superheroes?’

  ‘Nope. Not a clue. We watched loads of films together. On my birthday, his gifts included a Captain America t-shirt and a set of Marvel Top Trumps, which he insisted we play strip Top Trumps with. I thought he was into it. Not a geek like me, but certainly a fan. Apparently not. Why didn’t he just say something? I wouldn’t have stopped liking it but I wouldn’t have talked about it around him.’

  Sam put his empty bottle of lager down on the coffee table. ‘There’s nothing you said or did just before it ended that could have been a step too far for him? Like booking a weekend away at a convention and insisting you both attend in lycra Spidey outfits?’

  Drew laughed. ‘Nothing like that but, for the record, this body could so pull off a lycra Spidey outfit.’

  It was good to see him laughing again and, he was right, he’d look amazing in lycra. He had one seriously fit body. Scott had often commented on how weedy and inferior he felt next to Drew.

  ‘Oh shit!’ Drew exclaimed. ‘I don’t believe it. There was something.’

  ‘What?’ Sam and I asked together.

  Drew put his hand to his mouth. ‘Oh my God! But he seemed really into the idea. Plus, it was only a suggestion. I didn’t even have an outfit.’

  ‘WHAT?’ we cried again.

  He bit his lip. ‘It’s a bit embarrassing but, sod it, I’ve had enough vodka to not care. Where is my vodka, by the way?’

  ‘Don’t get mad but I got Sam to hide it. Trying to save you from the hangover from hell.’

  He shrugged. ‘You may be too late for that. So I asked Luukas if he’d dress up as Thor for me. He had blonde hair and muscles and…’ He paused and looked at Sam. ‘Oh my God! You’re him. I mean you look like him. Like Chris Hemsworth. You’ve got it all! Flash Gordon, Indiana Jones and Thor all wrapped into one.’

  Sam stiffened next to me. I’d been about to agree with Drew that Sam did, indeed, look like Chris Hemsworth, but something about his set jaw and stiff posture told me not to go there. I looked at Drew instead. ‘You think that’s what put him off?’

  Drew nodded. ‘It has to be. Unless our eight months together was so insignificant to him that he’s just come up with any old crap as an excuse for ending it.’

  ‘Put that thought out of your head right now, Andrew Baxter,’ I said. ‘Nobody could spend eight hours with you and not be left with a lasting positive impression, never mind eight months.’

  ‘Thanks, Jem. What would I do without you looking after me?’ He rolled his shoulders a couple of times. ‘I’m whacked. Can’t deal with this emotional bullshit. I’m going to bed to watch Avenger’s Assemble for the millionth time and bollocks to Luukas. Laust is welcome to him, the stupid uncommunicative twat. If he didn’t want to do the Thor thing, all he needed to do was say so.’ He stood up and stretched. ‘You’re not going to tell me where that vodka is, are you?’

  ‘No, and you’re not going via the kitchen to get something else instead.’

  He nodded. ‘Probably a good idea. Nice to meet you Dr Sam Jones Flash Gordon Thor.’

  Sam stiffened again. ‘And you,’ he said. ‘Night.’

  ‘Night, Jem.’ I stood up and Drew hugged me. ‘Thank you,’ he whispered.

  ‘Any time.’ We pulled apart. ‘Do you think you’ll be able to move on now that you’ve got a reason, albeit a crap one?’

  ‘Maybe.’

  ‘There’s one thing I think you should do before you put the film on.’

  ‘Drink a pint of water?’

  I smiled. ‘Yes, but I was going to say unfriend him and unfollow him. Sever all your connections with him. As several wise people have repeatedly told me over the past few months, you don’t need someone like that in your life.’

  Drew hugged me again. ‘We’ll get there together, Jem. Fresh start. Both of us.’

  He went via the kitchen area for a pint of water then disappeared into the bedroom corridor.

  ‘Are you okay? I asked Sam. ‘You look like you’re miles away.’

  ‘Sorry. I was.’

  ‘Asgard by any chance?’

  Sam quickly stood up. ‘I don’t think you’re going to have any trouble with Drew trying to leave the flat. He seems pretty calm. I think I’ll head off.’ He marched towards the door and lifted his coat off the hooks.

  I leaned on the back of the sofa, watching him. ‘You can tell me to mind my own business, but there’s something about Thor that upsets you, isn’t there?’

  He paused for a moment with his back to me, arm partway through his sleeve. He sighed then finished pulling it on. ‘It’s a long story.’

  He still had his back to me so I got off the sofa and walked over to him. ‘I don’t have any plans for the rest of the evening.’

  Sam turned round and looked at me, clearly battling with something, although I couldn’t imagine what. ‘Another time.’ He held my gaze for a while, then smiled and seemed to relax. ‘Thanks, though. You’ve got my number. As I said, Drew seems calm now, but if he loses it again, call me and I’ll be straight over.’ He leaned in and gave me a gentle kiss on the cheek. ‘It was great meeting you tonight. I’m not sure we finished our discussion about your mum so text me with some dates when you’re free again.’

  ‘You’re sure you don’t mind?’

  ‘Happy to help. Maybe without the drama next time, though. I’m not sure I can handle so much excitement on a school night.’

  I laughed. ‘Thanks for everything tonight, at the pub, and here.’

  ‘I’m glad Drew got his closure. It’s hard to let go otherwise.’ That distant look was back again for a moment before he smiled. ‘Night, Jemma.’

  ‘Night, Sam.’

  I stood at the top of the stairs, leaning against the door, exactly where Tiff had stood earlier, and watched Sam trot down the steps, looking up and waving on the bend.

  Closure. I nodded. Everyone needed closure. I closed the door and reached in my bag for my phone. Scott had said not to get in touch but sod him. I needed to do this for me. Curling up on the settee, I started typing:

  * To Scott

  It’s been 3 months since you left me all alone in our restaurant. When you ghosted me that 1st time, I’d never felt so lost and confused. It seemed like such a cruel thing to do, especially to someone you were supposed to love. Then I found out that you had a wife and a family. If I’d been hurting before, it was nothing like the pain I felt at discovering our life together had been a lie. I did at least understood why you couldn’t continue with our relationship.
You were living 2 lives and one of those lives had 3 people depending on you. As angry as I was for what you’d done to me and to your family, I never stopped missing you or loving you. When you turned up at the flat begging me to forgive you, I didn’t want to. You’d lied to me and your family and I shouldn’t need you in my life. Yet I did. I still loved you as much as ever and I believed you when you said you’d chosen me. I hated the hurt it would cause your family but I couldn’t let you go. Then you chose them and I understand why. Much as it breaks my heart, it was absolutely the right decision which, believe it or not, makes me love you even more. I hope you spend the rest of your life making it up to your wife, that you’re always there for your children, and that you never betray them ever again. I think you have the potential to be an incredible husband and a wonderful father. I’m only sorry I won’t get to experience that. I love you always but I need to say goodbye. I want to return the money you won on the horses as it obviously isn’t needed for our wedding. I’ll send a cheque to you at work and leave the payee blank. You can either keep the money, give it to the twins, or you can donate it to the hospital where they were looked after. I’d like the latter, but it’s your money so it’s up to you. Be happy. I’m certainly going to try to be xx

  I read it through several times and nearly deleted it. He’d got his closure, though, and I hadn’t. Sod it. Send. Then I went to my bedroom and dug out my cheque book.

  Chapter 20

  Jemma

  * From Sam

  I assume Drew was OK after I left. Hope his head isn’t too bad this morning. I’m available to talk about your mum when you’re ready. Sam x

  * To Sam

  No incidents although he got upset again so I was up till the early hours with him. He sunk a few more beers. I told him he’d be sorry. Sure enough, he’s looking green this morning! How does Monday or Tuesday sound? x

  * From Sam

  Monday? 7pm? Same place?

  * To Sam

  Perfect. See you then. And we can catch up on our Whitsborough Bay gossip too. Probably need it after the heavy stuff! Have a great weekend :)

  I felt ridiculously nervous as I took the short walk from Whitsborough Bay Train Station to Bear With Me, pulling my weekend case behind me. I’d had several texts from Sean across the week telling me that Mum kept shouting at him, so I knew that things had deteriorated and that the weekend ahead was going to be hard.

  I pushed open the door and paused, taking in the activity around me. Liv was at the till, boxing up a Steiff bear for a customer. She gave me a nod and a smile. An elderly woman was staring at the collection of Ju-Sea Bears and Ju-Sea Jem Bears, occasionally reaching out to stroke one. Mum had her back to me, chatting to a bald man with glasses in his mid- to late-fifties. She kept laughing. That was a good sign. Hopefully.

  I signalled to Liv that I’d be upstairs when Mum was free. I left my suitcase in a space at the bottom of the stairwell and headed up to the kitchen/staffroom on the 1st floor, put the kettle on to boil, and helped myself to a piece of shortbread.

  As well as the staffroom, the 1st floor of Bear With Me housed a large stock room, the staff toilet, and a second retail space full of bear-making supplies, costumes for teddies, bear-themed greetings cards and wrapping paper, and bear-themed stationery. The 2nd floor was home to more storage and the bear-making workshop/sewing room.

  ‘Jemma!’ Over the racket coming from the world’s loudest kettle, I hadn’t heard Mum coming up the stairs. She gave me a brief hug before pulling out a seat. ‘Ooh. That’s better. Sorry about that. That was Terrence.’

  She said the name as if it should mean something to me. I raised an eyebrow. ‘Terrence?’

  ‘My friendly stalker.’

  I tossed teabags into the mugs, tears pricking in my eyes. She’d been telling us about him the day Scott proposed. Another lifetime ago.

  ‘He didn’t look very stalker-ish,’ I said.

  ‘He’s completely harmless. A bit intense, but quite sweet. His sister has Parkinson’s. She’s 51 but she was diagnosed when she was the same age as me. She has rigidity, too, rather than shakes. He’s going to put me in touch with her. It might be helpful.’

  ‘Sounds good.’ I placed a mug in front of her and sat down. ‘You look tired, Mum.’

  She shrugged. ‘I’m fine. Busy morning. That’s all.’ She studied my face for a moment. ‘If we were having a looking exhausted contest, I think I’d be taking second place. What’s wrong, Jemma-bear? Scott hasn’t been in touch, has he?’

  ‘Not recently. I don’t think I’ll ever hear from him again. Drew had an unexpected blast from the past, though, and he got a bit upset about it so I was up till the early hours yesterday morning consoling him. I’m still a bit tired from that.’ And I’m worried about you. But I didn’t add that. I wanted to finish my conversation with Sam before I broached the subject.

  Mum reached across the table and squeezed my hand. ‘You would tell me if Scott got in touch again, wouldn’t you? The no secrets pact still counts. Just because I’ve got some health challenges at the moment, it doesn’t stop me being your mum first and foremost. Parkinson’s doesn’t define me. You and Sean and this place are what defines me. And I know there’s something you’re not telling me about Scott, isn’t there?’

  ‘She was amazing,’ I said to Karen over drinks in The White Horse that evening. ‘She completely understood why I didn’t tell her about getting back together with Scott in July when it came to nothing. She thought I’d made the right decision to give him another chance, too. It was lovely talking to her about it. She was just like the old Mum.’

  ‘She still is your old mum,’ Karen said. ‘Just with a bit of memory loss and the occasional bad mood. How are you holding up?’

  ‘I don’t really know. Sometimes I’m in tears and I feel so lost without him and can’t bear to face the future. Sometimes it feels like we’re still together, still in love, and still getting married and that the double life thing was just a dream. Sometimes the overriding emotion is anger. How dare he betray me? How dare he come back to me and get me to fall for his lies all over again? How dare he choose them and not me? Then I feel unbelievably guilty because it’s absolutely right that he did choose them.’

  ‘It’ll take time,’ Karen said.

  ‘I know. A heck of a lot of time.’

  The next day, Mum looked terrible. She shuffled into the kitchen barely able to prise her eyes open.

  ‘Back to bed,’ I ordered. ‘I’ll bring you some breakfast then I’ll go to the shop.’

  The fact that she didn’t protest told me how bad she was feeling.

  ‘Sean?’ she said.

  ‘I’ll take him with me. It’s about time he earned his keep.’ I winked at her but she didn’t even manage a weak smile in return. She was obviously in a lot of pain.

  ‘Thanks Jemma-bear.’

  Sean was a star. He didn’t complain. He packed his tablet, DS, a sketchbook and some pencils into his school bag and assured me he’d be fine on his own in the staffroom. Ten minutes after I opened up, he made his way downstairs and I braced myself for an, “I’m bored” conversation, tensing at the thought of a full day of him traipsing up and down the stairs, moaning that there was nothing to do. Instead, he surprised me by asking if he could sort out the bear-making supplies because they “look a bit messy”. Messy was an understatement. Trashed was more like it. I agreed, not expecting miracles but figuring it would be impossible to make them any worse than they already were. He put his headphones in and cracked on with it. When he’d finished sorting them out, he took a break to play on his DS then tackled the workshop too. It warmed my heart to see him so structured and organised. I thought of the vegetable garden at home and the pride he took in organising it. He’d obviously inherited that trait from Dad, but executed it in a more casual, less controlling way.

  Sean took some before a
nd after photos on his tablet to show Mum what he’d been doing all day. She cried and hugged him. I don’t think Sean got why she was so upset but I was pretty certain that the photos proved to her that she needed help.

  ‘Everything’s slipping,’ I said to Karen over the phone that evening. ‘The workshop was in chaos, the paperwork for the shop was all over the place and I mean literally. I found two invoices in the cupboard under the toilet sink and another one behind the toaster. It looks like she’s ordered too many bears from one supplier and we’ve run out of bears from another so I’m going back in tomorrow to sort it out while the shop’s closed. I’m worried, Karen. She can’t do this on her own, no matter how much she wants to.’

  ‘Will you speak to her about it this weekend?’ Karen asked.

  ‘No. I need to finish by conversation with Sam first, but then I’ll have to tackle it. And I don’t think it’s going to go down very well.’

  Chapter 21

  Sam

  The George and Dragon came into view on Monday evening. Tonight was the night. I had to tell her. If Jemma and I were going to be mates – and I hoped we were – the truth needed to come out. I could do this.

  As I pulled open the door to the pub and immediately clocked Jemma by the bar paying for a couple of drinks, my stomach did a somersault. She looked so relaxed and carefree as she laughed with the barman that I’d never have guessed that her life was in such turmoil. I was full of admiration for anyone who could do that. Over the years, I’d seen patients who always put on a brave face despite deteriorating health, and I’d seen others fall apart at the slightest of symptoms and become victims from that very moment.

  Nikki had been like Jemma. She’d always put on a brave face to the outside world when things were tough. She’d tell me that, as long as she had me by her side, sharing her worries or simply listening to her whinge about a bad day, she could face the world with a grin and a laugh.

  My stomach did another somersault as Jemma turned, locked eyes with me, and smiled widely. Uh oh! What the hell was going on? Why was I having that reaction to her? Then I checked myself. Idiot. It wasn’t about Jemma. It was because I’d made the decision to tell her about Nikki. Phew! Because the last thing I needed right now was a childish crush on a potential new friend.