by Vivien Brown
‘Okay.’ Sarah forced a smile.
‘Simon. Won’t you come too? You’d be very welcome.’
‘Thanks, Mr Peters, but no, really. I should be getting going now. I promised my own family a proper visit.’
‘And Josh? Will he be back from work yet? Wanting to join us, do you think?’
I held my breath. Oh, I would have loved to see Josh. I hadn’t spoken to him since Mum’s news and I missed him. But not here, not like this, having to hide my feelings and put up a front.
Sarah checked her watch. ‘I could ring him and find out. He stops off at the pub sometimes on a Friday, on his way home.’ She pulled her mobile out from her bag and tapped in a number.
‘No answer. Shall I leave a message?’ She looked up as if expecting the rest of us to tell her what to do, but then seemed to make a rapid decision of her own. ‘No. Let’s go without him. Everywhere will be filling up if we wait, and I would like to get Janey home to bed at a decent time. I’ll text him so he can sort out his own dinner. Two more pints and a bag of crisps, probably!’
Simon got up to go. ‘Well, have a nice evening, everyone. I’ll be back for you on Sunday, Eve. Around four-ish, okay?’
I nodded, feeling his hand resting on my shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze.
‘Right then. Just let me get changed. Can’t be seen out in this old thing.’ Mum stood up, gave Simon a goodbye hug in the hall, and disappeared up the stairs.
‘Is she all right, Dad? Really?’
‘Coping in her own way, Love. As must we all.’
I followed Simon out to the front door and waved him off as Sarah headed for the kitchen in search of Janey. Only Dad remained in the living room, and when I peered round the door I saw he had his eyes closed and was resting his head in his hands. I decided to give him a few minutes to himself.
‘Okay, where’s this little kitten then?’ I called, putting on my jolly voice. ‘Come out, come out, wherever you are. Time Auntie Eve had a cuddle.’
Chapter 18
SARAH
Dad wasn’t coping very well. Mum having to have a full mastectomy had come as a shock, and now that she had been back at home for three weeks and we were all learning to come to terms with things, the reality of it all seemed suddenly to have hit him hard, in some ways even harder than it had hit her.
She’d always been the one in charge at home, much as she would have denied it and pretended otherwise. While Dad earned the bulk of the money and dished out smiles and treats and pats on the head, the real day-to-day nitty-gritty things, like the housework, the finances, the decisions about where to go on holiday, what colour to paint the hall, what to have for dinner, had always rested with her. But now she was bruised and battered, and, for now anyway, her zest for life seemed to have gone.
She spent a lot of time in bed, feeling weak and sick after her first chemo session and dreading the ones yet to come. Even when she did get up and about, there were still so many things she could not do, partly because of the after-effects of the surgery to her chest and under her arms, partly because the chemo had taken it out of her so all she wanted to do was sleep. No hoovering, no heavy lifting, no driving, no going to work. Her appetite went up and down like a yoyo and she was a lot more careful about what she ate. She had decided too that in the interests of as healthy a lifestyle as possible, they would both give up alcohol altogether, just when Dad could have used a stiff drink, but he did what she asked. It was obvious he felt helpless and useless and hopelessly ill-informed, but he wanted to please her, to support her in any way he could, so the whisky bottle remained resolutely unopened. I wasn’t sure if he had even seen her scars yet.
Josh was working longer hours than ever, and I did wonder if it was his way of avoiding me, Mum, the illness, all of it. I’d seen it before, when Janey had caught a nasty bug, and that time she’d come home from school to tell us she had nits, and when I had a particularly bad period and there was blood on the sheets. He backed away from it, kept his distance, made sure he didn’t have to deal with any of the mucky unpleasant stuff, waited until whatever it was had passed before easing himself back in as if he’d never been gone.
Sometimes I felt about a hundred years old, as if the weight of the world and all its sorrows was on my shoulders. Eve was miles away in Wales, Dad was crumbling and Josh was distant. And that just left me.
I went down to the park once, around the same time of day I had bumped into Colin Grant that time. I suppose I was half hoping to see him again, run into him as if by accident, but he wasn’t there. Of course he wasn’t. And, if he had been, what then? Pick his medical brain about Mum’s illness? Stop for a coffee? Arrange to meet again? No, I couldn’t, and shouldn’t, go down that route, much as I needed someone to talk to, to take my mind off all the bad stuff, to make me laugh again. But Colin wasn’t the answer. I had to concentrate on the family now, and on myself for a change.
With Janey settled at school and Josh moaning about me doing nothing all day, I had only recently found myself a job. Only part-time in a solicitor’s office, working four mornings a week and one whole day every Friday when the place was at its busiest, with so many people choosing that day to complete their house moves. I did filing, photocopying, answering the phone, but I was so grateful to have even been considered for the job, let alone offered it, that I loved every minute of it. It had given me a reason to buy some smart new clothes to replace my sad old mumsy uniform of jogging trousers and baggy T-shirts, so often over the years stained with baby sick, the whites faded to dingy grey.
Josh had never wanted me to dress up. He said it would just attract other men, that I should only look nice for him. And there had never been any need to because we rarely went anywhere that called for posh outfits. But the new job, and the new clothes, had given me a sense of pride and self-worth, something that had been sadly lacking in my life while I was just a stay-at-home mum. It didn’t matter what Josh thought. I was doing this for me. Only, now, just as I was starting to find myself, I was being swallowed up in domestic chores and family stresses all over again. Not that I blamed anyone. It wasn’t as if Mum had got ill on purpose, and I felt angry with myself for the little shivers of resentment that ran through me. It wasn’t fair. But then, life wasn’t fair either, was it?
‘You can leave that, Love. I can do it later.’ Dad had come into the room behind me as I ran the hoover round the carpet and I jumped as I felt his hand fall unexpectedly on my shoulder.
‘It’s okay. I’ve started now, so I might as well finish.’
‘You sound like that Magnus Magnusson!’
‘Who?’ I leaned down and flicked the switch to off.
‘You know. Mastermind. It’s what he used to say.’
‘Right.’ I had no idea what he was talking about. ‘I’ll just put this away and then I’ll be off to pick up Janey from school. Tell Mum I’ll come back tomorrow some time to put the washing on and get that ironing pile sorted.’
‘Sarah, you do too much. I’m not totally inept, you know. I’m sure I can manage a few basic chores.’
‘And there’s a casserole in the oven. Should be ready in an hour or so. I’ve peeled you a few potatoes and carrots. They’re in water, in saucepans, so you just have to—’
‘Slow down, Love. It’s not that I’m not grateful. I am. And I know your mum is too, but we will get by. We won’t starve, or die of dust poisoning if the cleaning falls a bit behind. Go and enjoy your own life, your own family.’
‘You are my family.’
‘Of course we are. But you know what I mean. Go home and put your feet up. Watch a bit of telly. Open a bottle of wine. Have a drink for me, as I’m not allowed one anymore! Or go out for a meal. Take that husband of yours that we see so little of. I’m more than happy to have Janey for a couple of hours. Here, take this.’ He reached into his pocket, opened his wallet and handed me a couple of twenty-pound notes. ‘Treat yourself.’
I tried to say no, but he was having none of i
t. Sometimes it’s just easier to give in. And he was right. I was doing too much, trying to keep two households afloat. I did need some time out. And Dad wasn’t the only one who saw so little of Josh. I had hardly seen him for days myself. We needed to spend more time together, to try to get some of the normality – maybe even the fun – back, to go out for an evening that didn’t involve me being up to my eyes in pots and pans and Janey’s homework, Josh dozing on the sofa, and no conversation whatsoever.
‘Thanks, Dad. Give Mum a kiss goodbye from me, won’t you?’
‘Of course. And don’t you dare give my washing another thought. If a man can’t rinse out his own underpants, well, what’s the world coming to, eh?’
***
‘I’m sorry, Sarah.’ Josh’s hand reached out across the pub table and rested on mine.
‘What for?’
‘This business with your mum. I can see how much it’s hurting you. Coming out like this for a quick drink and a scampi and chips is all well and good, and probably one of your dad’s better ideas, but I just wish there was more I could do.’
‘Like?’
‘Oh, God, I don’t know. I’m not good in these situations, you know that. Hardly one for holding the sick bowl or knowing the right things to say, am I? And it’s not me your mum needs, is it? It’s your dad, and you two girls. I know I can’t do much for her, but I should be doing more for you. Shall I take some time off work? Spend more time with Janey? You look worn out.’
‘That’s because I am worn out.’ He was happy to spend more time with our daughter, I noticed, but there was no talk of spending more time with me. I couldn’t help but wonder how an offer like that was actually going to help lighten my load at all. Give me more time to go round with the hoover, I supposed. Still, I did my best to explain. ‘If Eve was nearer, we might be able to share things somehow, but I just feel it’s all falling on me. I know Dad says I needn’t do so much, but how can I not? How can I leave him to struggle on his own? He’s got enough to worry about. But I feel so stressed out, so bloody tired, and then when I get into bed I can’t sleep for all the thoughts rushing round my head. Not much you can do about that, is there? Unless you can get hold of some knock-out tablets or something.’
‘Tablets?’ He looked shocked. ‘Are things that bad?’
‘Oh, take no notice. It’s the tiredness talking. Things will get better, but yeah, if you could be at home a bit more, maybe help out a bit more, so I don’t feel like I’m dealing with everything on my own …’
‘I’ll talk to the boss. Ask for some compassionate leave, or just use up some of the standard holiday leave I’m due. Maybe we could go away for a few days? Yes, I know you want to be here for your parents, but you do need some time off. For good behaviour!’ He smiled, that old sexy look in his eyes that still had the power to persuade me into anything. His fingers tightened over mine, his thumb drawing little invisible circles on my wrist. ‘So we can get up to a bit of bad behaviour! We never did take that skiing trip we talked about, did we? Do you remember?’
‘Skiing? Now?’ Did he have any idea of what I really needed? A husband by my side, supporting me, not some ridiculous escape route where we got to play silly buggers in the snow. A holiday was obviously what Josh wanted. I wasn’t sure it had a lot to do with helping me.
‘Well, no, of course not. Stupid idea! I just meant that we always said we’d do more, you know, together, as a family, and we haven’t really done it, have we? Not often enough anyway. But no long flights, no dangerous sports, no snow, I promise. Something closer to home, so we can get back if—’
‘If what? She takes a turn for the worse?’
‘That’s not going to happen, Sarah. But, just in case, you know, we’re needed. Somewhere by the sea maybe? South coast? Buckets and spades. Donkey rides. Ice creams. Janey will love that.’
‘Do they still do donkey rides?’
‘No idea. Who knows? Let’s find out.’
‘But, what about school?’
‘We’ll tell them she’s sick. They’re hardly going to come round and check, are they? So long as she can tell a good lie when she goes back in.’
‘I don’t want to encourage Janey to tell lies, Josh.’
‘No, of course not, but circumstances sometimes make it necessary, don’t you think?’ He picked up his glass and drained what was left of his beer. ‘Everyone does it.’
***
We went to Bournemouth. A family room in a small hotel a short walk from the front. For October, the weather wasn’t too bad. A bit windy, and not a lot of sun to soak up when we did venture down to the beach, but Janey loved the whole experience, insisting that, at seven, she was too old for building sandcastles but doing it anyway, her little yellow bucket gradually filling up with a collection of pebbles and shells that she spent ages finding and then arranging around the walls and turrets of her castle.
Worn out from all the excitement and exercise on that first afternoon, she was asleep within half an hour of dinner, curled up in a tight little ball in her single bed under the window, the fluffy teddy she had carefully chosen to bring with her clasped snugly in her arms. I called Dad from the bathroom, making sure I didn’t disturb her, and was relieved to be told that everything at home was fine. No change. Nothing to worry about.
‘Well, Mrs Cavendish,’ Josh said, quietly pulling the curtains shut above Janey’s head as I came back into the room. ‘What shall we do now? We can hardly go out anywhere, or even just back down to the bar and leave her on her own, can we?’
‘Watch TV, I suppose, if we keep the volume down.’
‘Is that the best you can come up with? Away from home, after a nice meal where we haven’t had to do our own cooking or washing up, an evening to ourselves in a posh room with a king-size bed, all buoyed up with sea air and wine and … oh, come here, for God’s sake, and take your clothes off.’
It wasn’t that I was unwilling. Far from it! It had just been so long since Josh had shown any real interest in me that I felt almost shy as I pulled my T-shirt up and over my head. He stood behind me and undid my bra, his fingers finding their way round to cup my breasts as he nuzzled into the back of my neck. And then we were on the bed, my bottom lifting as he wriggled my jeans and knickers down, his body crushing me as he tugged his own clothes off and threw them on the floor.
I glanced across at Janey, still fast asleep. We had never made love in the same room as her before, never taken that risk of her waking up, seeing us, hearing us, not even when she was a tiny baby. ‘Sssh. We mustn’t wake her,’ I whispered, anxiously trying to suppress the groan that threatened to come from my own throat as Josh’s mouth moved ever lower down my body and his tongue flicked against all the right places.
‘It’s not me making the noise …’
I could feel him breathe, hard and fast, his mouth and fingers moving expertly, his erection pressing itself against my bent-up knees as he crouched over me. It only took me seconds. The shudders ran through me, my eyes closed, my hands, which had been pinned beneath him, suddenly free to move but too tingly to do it, as he slipped back upwards, his face sticky and wet as it met mine. He pushed himself inside me then, not kissing, not speaking, just intent on his purpose, the sweat forming in a slimy layer between us. And then, in what felt like less than a minute, he was emptied, done. He lay for a moment, panting, then rolled away and sat up on the edge of the bed, his back towards me.
‘Phew. It’s been a while,’ he said, taking a big breath and letting his shoulders slump.
I could hear Janey mumbling, stirring, saw a leg flop out from under her covers and her teddy drop to the floor.
‘Just managed that in time, by the look of it. I’m gonna grab a shower. Then maybe pop downstairs for a quick one.’
‘Isn’t that what we just had?’
‘Oh, ha ha. Not complaining, are you?’ He glanced over at Janey, snuffling gently in her sleep, and headed for the bathroom. ‘Marathon sessions and kids in the room don’t re
ally go together, do they? Keep it short and sweet! But don’t you get up yet, Love. Lie there and have that rest you came down here for. You can relax in a long hot bath once I’ve finished in the shower. I bet they don’t run out of hot water here, no matter how much of it we use. And I won’t be gone too long. Just a couple of drinks in the bar. I am on holiday, after all.’
And so am I, I thought. But somehow I’m the one left with the childcare again. And, for once, despite the orgasm I had so badly needed, and our daughter lying there all innocent and unaware, I wondered just what it was that still held us together. Because there had been no love in what we had just done. None at all.
Chapter 19
EVE
Four years later
I had to come back to London. What choice did I have? If Mum had only told me sooner how bad things were. Or if Dad had …
We had all believed she’d beaten it. After a horrifying few months of chemo-induced baldness, her hair had grown back, greyer but surprisingly thicker than it had been before, and she had had it cut into a new shorter bob that took years off her. She had shooed away any idea of reconstructive surgery and had learned to live with special bras and the jelly-like inserts that fitted inside them, even daring to wear a swimsuit again when they headed off for their usual summer week in Bognor. As the years passed, she seemed to have accepted what life had chucked at her and found a new lease of life, dragging Dad off to ballroom-dancing classes and taking up yoga. But now, right out of the blue, the cancer was back, and this time it had spread, and quickly. Into her liver, and her bones.