A Part of Me and You

by Emma Heatherington

  I focus on Juliette’s friendly, warm face and I manage a smile but I notice how the two women in front of me share worried glances.

  ‘What happened? Is she okay?’ asks Juliette, and poor Sarah looks bewildered.

  ‘I’m Sarah, her friend, an old friend, and I just stopped to say hello. I’m not sure what happened. One minute we were chatting, the next thing …’

  Juliette waits, as do I. Then Sarah whispers, covering her daughter’s ears

  ‘You called her Lily,’ she says, her face crumpling in sorrow. ‘You kind of … you didn’t hurt her, Shelley, it’s okay.’

  She holds her daughter close. Poor Teigan. Merlin whimpers at my feet.

  ‘Don’t worry, I’m sure it was all a bit of a misunderstanding,’ says Juliette. ‘I’ll look after it from here, Sarah and like you said, I’m sure Shelley didn’t mean any harm.’

  I called her Lily and I grabbed her but I only wanted to give the child some money to treat herself and her brother, just like people used to do to me when I was out walking with my mother when I was little. I didn’t mean any harm!

  Sarah shakes her head in deep sadness and pity and nods at Juliette who links my arm and leads me away from my shop, further up the hill towards my house. I feel drunk but I know I’m not. I am so unsure of what just happened.

  ‘I was going to suggest you stay with us tonight but I’ll walk you home,’ says Juliette. ‘Your phone’s been ringing – it was under Rosie’s makeup bag of all places.’

  I watch Sarah and her children scuttle down the hill into the village, her arm protectively around Teigan as she stoops down to whisper to her.

  ‘Maybe when we get you tucked up in bed you can text your husband and tell him you are going to be okay, Shelley,’ says Juliette. ‘And you are going to be okay, Shelley, because I am going to make damn sure of it.’

  Juliette

  We walk, arm in arm along the coastal hill that leads up to Shelley’s luxurious home in the distance, at the top of the little village with the still of the ocean to our left and green fields to our right. The lighthouse twinkles out on the sea and windy stone walls guide us along the busy little road that takes us out of the village and leads further south along the magnificent Wild Atlantic Way if we were to follow them that far.

  I inhale the sea air, feeling like I am breathing in pure undiluted magic. How I wish I had more time to live in a place like this. If there is one thing that cancer has taught me, it’s to appreciate absolutely everything I see, touch, hear and feel. The smell of the fish and chip shop; the cry of the gulls above our heads and the feeling of space and freedom and being on holiday. Heaven, pure heaven, but to Shelley, she is still going through hell.

  ‘What happened?’ she asks me and I can only tell her what I saw.

  ‘You stumbled, that’s all,’ I tell her. ‘You were giving the little girl something and you stumbled towards her and you – well, you must have mistaken her for Lily.’

  ‘Money,’ she says. ‘I was just giving her money but all I could think of was Lily, all I could see was Lily. Teigan was Lily’s best friend and it’s her birthday in a few days’ time. I must have frightened the life out of her. Poor Teigan.’

  ‘That’s enough,’ I tell her. ‘That lady was your friend, right?’

  She nods. ‘Yes. My best friend around here. We used to do so much together.’

  ‘Well, she’s bound to understand what you must be feeling right now,’ I tell her. ‘Anyhow, you needn’t waste time worrying about such minor things. Send Sarah a quick sorry and it will all be over and done with. Time is too precious to beat yourself up over nothing. Life is too short for shit, that’s my motto and don’t you ever forget it. No shit from now on!’

  At this, Shelley starts to giggle, and then she stops in her tracks. I let go of her.

  ‘Why do you care so much about me, Juliette?’ she asks me. ‘And more to the point, why do I let you care? What is it about you that makes me let you in so easily?’

  I have no idea how to reply. I have no idea why I care so I can’t answer her.

  ‘Well …I don’t know, you helped me by helping my daughter,’ I say to Shelley in my bid to explain. ‘Or maybe it’s just human nature to want to look out for someone in distress? Maybe I’m just being human?’

  Shelley isn’t overly convinced.

  ‘But I am letting you,’ she says, her eyes wild and full of wonder. ‘I haven’t let anyone into my life in three years, never mind a stranger, and then you and your daughter come along and we’re best buddies all of a sudden and I feel better than I have in such a long time. I’m not knocking it or pushing you away, I just think it’s all a bit—’

  ‘Wonderful?’ I suggest. ‘Believe me, when you don’t have time to sweat the small stuff, you tend to focus on the positive acts of kindness rather than turning a blind eye or pushing someone away just because you can.’

  She looks away from me and strands of her long, wavy hair blow in the breeze.

  ‘I have pushed so, so many people away who tried to help me,’ she confesses, her face full of worry. ‘I’ve been deliberately pushing everyone away, even my husband.’

  ‘I’ve been doing that too, so that’s another thing we have in common.’

  ‘You’ve been pushing away your husband?’

  ‘Yes, my husband, Dan,’ I tell her. ‘My darling husband Dan turned to the comfort of booze when I first was diagnosed a few years ago. I couldn’t bear to see him cry and beg for things to go back to how they used to be, so two weeks ago when I knew my dreaded next appointment was around the corner and the worst was yet to come, I asked him to leave.’

  Shelley gasps. ‘No, Juliette, you didn’t?’

  ‘I did,’ I nod. ‘I pushed him away because I can’t watch him in so much pain, and he can’t watch me in pain, but boy, I miss him every single day, Shelley. My heart is aching for him. Does that make me a hypocrite? I suppose it does, in a way.’

  ‘How do you mean?’ asks Shelley.

  ‘Well, here I am telling you to live your life to the full while you still can and meanwhile back at the ranch I’m pushing away the man I love more than anyone just to make it easier on us both, when in reality it’s not making it easy at all. It’s making it worse, even though I am doing a good job of denying it to myself.’

  ‘Maybe we just came along at the right time to teach each other a few good old life lessons then?’ suggests Shelley. ‘Maybe we both need to realize what’s important before it’s too late?’

  ‘I think we have,’ I say to this darling girl who is living each day swallowed up with grief and sadness, though she longs to live and to love again. There is hope for her though. I can see it and I am determined to make her see it too before I leave this place.

  Shelley leans on the stone wall to gather herself and I don’t wish to hurry her but I think of Rosie back in the cottage waiting on me to start our movie night.

  ‘Are you sure you don’t want to spend the evening with us rather than being on your own?’ I ask her. ‘You do know you are very welcome, but I think I’ve pushed you enough today, so don’t feel pressurised.’

  ‘Gosh, no,’ she says, shaking her head and fixing her jacket. ‘I can walk from here. I’ll go home and ring Matt and I have old Merlin here to look after. Go back to your daughter and cherish every moment with her while you still can, Juliette. And maybe give your hubby a call?’

  And in that moment as we stand in the evening breeze with the sea down below us, I realize the intense irony of each of our situations. Shelley would give everything to have what I have had – some time to cherish, albeit cut short, with my only child, and I would give everything to have what she has – a life to look forward to and all the time in the world to do it.

  ‘We’ll see you again,’ I say to her, reaching out my hand and touching her arm. She smiles, just a little, but it’s always good to see her smile.

  ‘I hope so,’ she says, and then I watch her walk away, a sad and lonel
y figure with so much to live for, but who feels she has nothing left to live for at the same time. I see a flicker out at the lighthouse in the distance and a gust of wind blows through my hair. Shelley stops and looks out towards it too and then walks away again, her head bowed and her heart sorry. I really hope I can make her see that her daughter up in heaven is urging her to smile again.

  Chapter 14

  Juliette

  MONDAY

  ‘Please, I swear Mum, just let me call them and see if they can fit us in. It will only be for one hour at the most. You can watch, you and Merlin. He’ll keep you company and it’s a gorgeous day outside. Come on. Please.’

  Rosie sits on the edge of my bed and for the first time in my whole life , I want to gag my darling daughter.

  ‘Five minutes,’ I tell her. ‘Five minutes of complete silence from you is all I ask and I will contemplate it. Please.’

  She sighs from the very tips of her toes and makes a face that would turn milk sour but I don’t react. It is 7am. She never sees 7am on a school morning, never mind on a holiday morning so there is no way I am going to jump to her every whim at the crack of dawn when we are meant to be on a relaxing break. She wants to go horse-riding, but I didn’t manage to arrange it as today was all about taking the boat around the Cliffs of Moher. Apparently there is no better way to see them than from the sea itself, and maybe I am being selfish, but I really want to feel what it’s like to be out there on that ocean, just like Skipper used to be every day.

  My phone rings, disturbing my third minute of contemplation. Oh no, it’s Dan. I can’t answer. I tried to talk to him last night but there was no reply and now that he is calling me back I am afraid to hear his voice in case it sets me back. But I can’t not answer. Shit.

  ‘Hello?’

  ‘At last, Juliette! God, it’s good to hear your voice at long last. I left my phone in the car last night like a bloody idiot. Are you okay?’

  Jesus.

  ‘Hello Dan, yes, I’m okay. How are you?’

  I don’t need to ask how he is. It’s 7am on a Monday morning so I know exactly how he is going to be. Hungover or still slightly drunk.

  ‘Is it true?’

  Is what true, I long to ask? Where on earth do I start with what is true these days? About my illness? About where I have run away to and not told him? What?

  ‘What have you heard?’ I ask him, hoping it isn’t about my health. There is no way I am going to tell him my days are finally numbered first thing in the morning and certainly not on the phone.

  I swallow. I can feel his pain from here. I can see him rock and squint as my admission to the extent of my illness hits him hard in the heart.

  ‘Helen told me,’ he says. ‘I spoke with her yesterday and she told me the truth. What about Rosie? How is she? Did you tell her? I should be there with you when you do. Jesus, Juliette!’

  I shake my head. Oh Lord, what am I doing here? Barry Island would never have raised such questions or caused such heartache for any of us. I feel so far away from him and I know he is right. I shouldn’t have run away without telling him the full story.

  ‘I wish I could tell you it isn’t true,’ I tell him. ‘But it is, Dan, and I promise when I get back on Saturday we can have some time together. I want to make our last days the best days ever, love. We can see this through, me and you, I know we can.’

  ‘Are you going to tell her about her father and his connections there?’ he asks, his voice choked up with worry. ‘Why Juliette? Why would you really think you need to leave her with the burden of a man who might not even want to know she exists when she has so much to deal with already?’

  Where on earth do I start to explain to my recently estranged, darling, lovely, gentle, troubled husband that no matter what my intentions were when it comes to Rosie’s biological father, I have hit a brick wall; that any slight glimmer of hope I may have had in the back of my mind, no matter how foolish it may seem, has come to nothing.

  ‘He isn’t here, Dan, so you don’t need to worry about any of that,’ I whisper. ‘He never really was here after all, so it’s one less thing for you to be concerned about. We will be home soon and we can have a good long chat about everything, about Rosie’s future, and about yours too.’

  I want to say ‘and we’ll all live happily ever after’ but of course that is never going to happen.

  ‘Please don’t break her heart, Juliette by telling her about him now.’

  He sobs down the phone and my lip trembles for the hurt I know he is feeling right now. I have been with this handsome, strong, magnificent man for many years and he devoted every inch of his heart to me and Rosie, so to think of me being here as I face my last days on this earth and not spending time with him must be the ultimate blow.

  ‘Can I speak to Rosie?’ he asks and my stomach leaps. I don’t want her to hear him cry. Not now when she is in such good form.

  ‘She’s asleep,’ I say to him. ‘Maybe later?’

  ‘She isn’t asleep,’ he says and he laughs at my attempt to brush him off. ‘She sent me a text half an hour ago. Jesus, Jules what on earth are you playing at taking her there when you are so unwell? You should be here, with me so we can talk about what’s going on. We could be making plans and just, just talking and – why can’t things just be like they used to be? Why?’

  Ah, shit, shit, shit. I am crying now and so is he.

  ‘Why don’t you come here to us, Dan,’ I tell him. ‘Sober up and come here and be with us and we’ll try and make it like it used to be just the three of us against the world.’

  ‘Go there? To Ireland?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘No, no, no, no no,’ he rambles. ‘No, I don’t want to interfere on your holiday and I don’t think I could stand being there, knowing that—’

  He lets out a huge sigh and I can just see his handsome smile in my mind when I close my eyes. Drunk or not, I freakin’ love this man and as I spend my last days on this earth, I want to be with him and my daughter for every second but I need him to be straightened up for my last days. That may be selfish of me to insist on that, but it’s the only thing I have left to insist on.

  ‘This is killing me too, Juliette,’ he says. ‘But you don’t need to hear that, sorry. I just want to see you. I want to touch you. I don’t want you to die.’

  He is sobbing heavily now, so I know we are on the wrong path with this conversation.

  ‘Where are you?’ I ask him. ‘Are you still on Emily’s couch? You should just go home and wait for us there. Go home to our own bed. I won’t be long. I’ll be home soon.’

  ‘You don’t need to care about me,’ he says. ‘You have enough to worry about. I know that’s why you pushed me away in the first place. I’m not what you need. I’m a burden, an extra stress that you and Rosie don’t need right now.’

  ‘I didn’t ever say that,’ I say, as my hand automatically goes to my mouth and the tears roll down my face. ‘I just wanted to protect you and I need you to be able to face up to me not being here. It’s out of our hands, Dan. I don’t have very long left.’

  I picture him, the handsome, strong, decisive man I used to know and I long for him to show me that person again. How did it come to this? When did we drift so far apart that we lost sight of our sparkle and charm and strength and all the things that made us fall in love?

  ‘I need you to try and be strong for us all,’ I say to him. ‘I need you Dan. I need you to be strong.’

  ‘I’m going to get better and so are you,’ he tells me. ‘I promise. We are going to fix all of this. I am going to fix it all and we will have our old life back, just give me time, Juliette. Can you give me time? We’ll build that big house by the sea and we’ll take those holidays and Rosie can have a dog and a pony and anything she wants and …’

  I hear Rosie singing in the kitchen and I’m thankful that she is out of earshot for what I am about to say.

  ‘But I don’t have time anymore, Dan,’ I whisper to him firm
ly. ‘You have to understand that, babe. There is no time for all of that now. I wish there was, but my time is almost up.’

  ‘Don’t say that, Juliette,’ he says. ‘There’s bound to be something—’

  ‘There’s nothing,’ I tell him. ‘We don’t have a happily ever after, Dan but what we do have is the chance to make our last days count and make those as happy as we can possibly be. Now, sort yourself out and I’ll see you on Saturday when we get back. Please, get some sleep. Please, darling. You sound like you need it.’

  I hang up the phone and lean back on my pillow, inhaling and exhaling slowly as I embrace this overwhelming sadness. Dan doesn’t seem to be able to grasp the harsh reality of all this. We don’t have a future anymore. My future is right here, right now so I don’t have time to linger and mope. I need to make every second count instead of dwelling on my grief and allowing each day to be a waiting game. I will not wait for this to happen. I’m determined to enjoy every second for as long as I can.

  Shelley

  When a fifteen-year-old girl bounds into your shop, begging you to take her horse-riding because her dying mother is too tired, or too allergic, or too whatever to join her, what on earth are you supposed to say? I can’t exactly say no to that, can I, no matter how much it petrifies me to even think about it?

  ‘Didn’t your mum say she wanted you to go out on the boat today?’ I ask Rosie, whose face is perfectly made up just as mine was yesterday. She looks the least likely person I have ever seen to go horse-riding, with makeup like that plastered on her face.

  ‘She was meant to but they can’t take us today and all we’ve done all day is walk the beach! I’ve never walked so much in my entire life.’

  ‘Does she know you’re here?’ I ask her. I look at the clock. It’s just after four and I have only had two customers today so I suppose I could shut up shop early. It’s a beautiful day outside and I tend to find that on those days, most tourists and locals like to flock to the sea rather than the shops, not that I blame them.

  ‘She warned me under no circumstances to come here and ask you,’ says Rosie, ‘but to be honest, I can’t sit in that cottage for any longer watching daytime TV or trying to get phone signal when it just isn’t happening. So, what do you think? Horse-riding? Me and you? Date?’