CHAPTER 38
“Aunty Jill, where’s the spare loo roll?”

“Under the sink in the wooden cupboard”

“They’re all wooden!”

“The one that LOOKS like wood, Bethy!”

“Oh, right…got it!”

Larinda snorted into her tea. “Well, four women, one house. Take them in this evening?”

I thought for a few seconds on that one. “No, not tonight. Do us a favour and pick up a card from work? I’ll get them to sign it, take it in for him, like. Give us a chance to see what state he’s in. Save a shock, aye?”

“Drive you in?”

“No, I’ll ride down, get the train back. I still remember what you said about my arse, pet”

I was off out the door shortly after Larinda, the girls already on their way to the bus stop for their school run. It had only been a fortnight, but it felt as if they had been with us forever. It had taken a little prodding, but there was a special ‘school’ in Reigate for Hays, and they functioned largely as a training and vocational centre. That had been a morning and a half…

“So, er, Ms…Mrs…”

“Carter-Simmons. Mrs”

Live with it, woman.

“Mrs Carter-Simmons…”

“Jill, please!”

Give a little, take a lot.

“Jill. Thank you. Philipa. Now, is there anything…does Hayley…”

“No, Philipa, she is fully socialised and very sweet”

Finally a genuine smile. “That is not what I was groping for, Jill. I was wondering, in fact, if she has any particular interest, anything we can cultivate?”

“Perhaps you could ask her yourself? She is sitting outside, after all”

“Of course, of course. Shall we?”

I rose to call my niece in, in her best dress and shiniest shoes. She had spent at least an hour making sure that shiny was exactly how they were.

“Hays, hinny, Mrs Newport here wants to know if there is anything you really like to do”

Her face lit up, as pretty as she would ever be, life dancing in her eyes just as she had done at Christmas.

“I like to sing, Mrs Newport”

I smiled. “Could you give us a song, pet?”

Five minutes later and Philipa was apparently in shock.

“And she speaks Welsh as well, Jill?”

“Er, no, she just remembers the words, like”

Hays smiled again. “Mum said it was stupid noise but Mr Powell said there’s beautiful see and Aunty Jill and Daddy say it’s beautiful as well so…does that mean Mum was wrong?”

Oh yes, love, absolutely sodding wrong, as wrong as it was possible to be, but put that thought away Jill and smile.

“Different people like different things, Hays. What do you think, Mrs Newport?”

She shook herself. “I rather think that anyone who would stop her singing… no, little pitchers. Hays, if you are to study here, we will try and give you as many chances to sing as we can. In fact…”

She clicked her intercom. “Sharmila, could you find me the contact details for the Reigate Singers? Thank you”

She positively beamed at me. “My sister-in-law is a great one for the choral stuff, but she has no voice to speak of. Her friend Emily, though, she is a singer, and it would be churlish not to introduce them. When you leave us, Jill, I will give you Judith’s number as well as Emily’s and whatever details Sam comes up with and, well, Hayley, welcome to our little community”

Tea. Decent biscuits. A quick tour of the facilities, and off we went. The problem I had anticipated simply evaporated with a few notes from Hayley’s voice. Yes, kid, your Mum was so wrong it hurt to think about it.

The day’s work was routine, simply two CTNs with the usual cock-ups with their retail scheme and rather a high rate of wastage of confectionery at one. Its proximity to the gates of Bethy’s school may have explained that one, and I made a mental note to keep an eye on her for the next month, in case peer pressure got a bit much.

Back to the office, dump the official crap, into the ladies’ (not the day for anyone to argue THAT one with me), change, and onto the back route to Crawley. My mobile went off just as I passed the Royal East Surrey.

“Forgot something, lover?”

“What?”

“Card for your brother?”

“Shite!”

“I’ll drive down. Meet you at Waitrose car park?”

“Thanks, love. Girls home OK?”

“Oh yeah, coats on floor, shoes on stairs, legs over armrests, video of ‘Annie Get Your Gun’ on the telly”

I laughed. “You OK with the girls being here, pet?”

A Rachel-like snort. “Family, innit? Now, get back soon as, yeah? Doing soss and mash for tea. Hays asked for it. Need to get some in”

I had to laugh at that. She might be a manager at one of the biggest local supermarkets, with access to all sorts of food products at staff rates, but our fridge and freezer were still limited in size, and it was taking time to adjust our purchases to the menus demanded by two teenagers. I mean, why couldn’t they just eat curry like ordinary people?

I chucked the card in my saddle bag after a quick snog, and left my wife to shop while I hurried on down to Crawley by way of the back route through the airport. Eric was on duty, so I was able to cadge a cuppa in the staff canteen while they prepared the wards for visiting hours after the evening meal. He was straight to the point.

“I won’t say I’ve been there, Jill, cause I haven’t. I mean, there was the time with Albert, and when Den got hurt, but that was different. He’s not out of it, he’s not going through one process and it’s done, he’s starting a series of them, and they might not work, and they might go on for a very long time, and they STILL might not work, and each time after the very first he will know exactly what to expect. I… one of our friends, aye? She had a father, he went into remission. All fine, after shitloads of chemo. Six years free, then it returned, and all he said was ‘No, not again, just make me comfortable and get it over with’, and so they did, and that was it”

I stared at my tea. “You think Ian would, you know, give up?”

“I don’t know, Jill. I hardly know him, but I don’t think so. I saw him with his girls, aye? Too much there for him to fold”

I did my best to lighten the mood. “You know, when you get all stressed like, you sound just like your wife”

“Do I? Oh bugger. Look, just be aware that what he might say now, when he’s hurting, he may well be thoroughly ashamed of once he’s between sessions. He’s a man’s man, aye? I mean, isn’t he?”

I reached out for his hand, and of course he didn’t flinch, just covering mine with his other one.

“Jill, look, not going to be easy. Just smile, bright talk, don’t stay too long. I know you’ll want to, but he will want to be a coward in private. That’s how he’ll see it”

“You see a lot of this, pet?”

“Not that much, not being on the wards, but, well, we have a son, and, well, been there, smelt the T-shirt, just for different reasons. Oh, and I like yours, by the way. Could have done with a copy for Christmas”

“For Annie?”

He laughed. “No, for Darren to give to Shan. Something her mums would approve of. Look, let’s go up. I’ll take you, but I’ll wait outside, yeah?”

In the end, it wasn’t what I expected. He was still solid, his hair was unchanged, there was a pronounced shortage of chiming and pinging machines… but he looked tired. I noticed three small disposable bowls on the bedside table, and two sentences into our greeting he tried to fill one, falling back with a grimace, tears standing in his eyes.

“Before you ask, Jill, like shit. Really, truly, like shit. If this is what it’s going to be like…”

I thought of Eric’s words. “I am going to ignore that bit, pet. Here’s a card from the reason I am ignoring it, and while you look at it I will talk over you, aye? You have a date, and it’s April and it’s with Simon again”

“That vicar? What for?”

“To listen to your daughter sing, of course. Oh, and to see me and your sister-in-law properly wed”

I didn’t take the vomiting personally. I did get his promise.