Extra Time 39

Printer-friendly version

CHAPTER 39
It went on. I dropped in when I could, as the first session tore his health to shreds, and he would be there, silent and grey, staring into space. There were times he didn’t speak, just holding my hand, tears falling, and there were other times.

“No, Ian, I had your promise, aye? Just two more days and home with me, and Larinda will do better stuff than you’re getting here”

“Not eating it, lass”

“And why not?”

I knew the answer, the nausea and pain festering in his eyes. What was the point? It was all a waste of time, the doctors would never win, was it worth the pain: the questions sat there between us, unspoken. I clung to his promise.

There were stares, of course, each time I arrived, the biggest news to hit their little death row in years. In an odd way, it helped my confidence. I was never going to pass easily. That had never been the case, never would be, but I was used to the looks by now. I knew who and what I was, and so did the people who mattered, so sod the rest. I heard the odd mutter, but after a while it died down; the only one my memory held to was “No, that’s his sister”

Ian was insistent that the girls wouldn’t be allowed to come to the hospital, as he would be on a downward arc. Home, our home, the family, that meant recovery, each day better than the last, and that was what he wanted for Hayley and Bethany, as well as Von. I put that to her.

“Noah!” she had said, in her best Valleys strop. “If I set my cap at a man, see, I take the good and the bad. What it should be, aye?”

She had twitched just a little, looking my way, but Larinda had simply smiled, taking my hand, and Von had softened.

“You were never a man, innit? We both got it a bit wrong”

We shared the visiting duties, in the end, and she would call round the house afterwards before the long drive back to Hampshire, eyes raw, and I knew without asking, I knew what my Von had been doing. Strong for the man in the bed, or in the chair with the bag of poison dripping into him, flesh and hair falling away, and then, afterwards, sitting in her car as the tears broke free, sobbing and waiting till she could see to drive and erect the wall of brittle cheer she brought for the sake of the girls.

“A hug for each of you, aye, from your Dad”

The day came at last, and she was there, with her car, to collect him as the first period of chemo ended. I could only guess how he was feeling, after being poisoned steadily, killed slowly so that most of him might live on a little longer.

The weather matched his face, as drizzle and low cloud pressed down on the wet streets. Larinda had laid in a store of bland foods, things to slip past whatever nausea remained. I helped him in from the car, and I heard a strangled sob from Bethy as she saw the state of him. Hayley just burst into tears.

Larinda was bright and sunny. “Cuppa, love?”

Ian grunted as he settled into an armchair. “Pint be better, like”

“That a good idea, with, you know?”

“Don’t give a shite, me. Tell us we can gan for a pint later, lass. Just the one, like”

Von was hovering, and she gave a sharp nod as Hayley settled down against her daddy for a cuddle, and we three women left two girls alone with their hurting father and rattled cups in the kitchen, till the doorbell rang.

Rachel, carrying a large plastic container.

“Microwave’ll do, yeah? ‘Straditional”

Von laughed, her first genuine one in ages. “Let me guess... chicken soup?”

“So sue me! How is he?”

Larinda pulled me to her. “Pretty shit state at the moment, Rach. Be better in a few days, though. He’s already after a pint”

“Not dead yet, then. Er, sorry, you know what I mean. Where to?”

I thought for a few seconds. “Somewhere quiet. Black Horse, I suppose. No sports there”

Rach nodded. “John, Fossy, he was asking, yeah, Give him a shout?”

“Not sure, Rach”

“See what the man says, Jill? I think… I think people just want to see he’s still alive, yeah? He made quite an impression at Christmas. He’s good folks, is your brother”

“Aye, he is that, just sometimes he lets his pride get in the way. We wasted more than a few years, like. Look, there’s the kitchen bits, if you start the soup warming, I’ll take him his tea and see what he says, aye?”

Both girls were sat with him, now on the sofa, eyes red. I handed Ian his tea, and knelt on the rug before them.

“You know this is an important thing, like, that your Dad has to do?”

Silent nods.

“It will get better each time he comes back, girls, each day will be easier. You just have to be strong for his bad days. Can you promise your Aunty Jill that?

Two more nods.

“Right, people, Rachel has brought round her traditional remedy for all known ailments, and that is chicken soup, which is warming in the microwave. Ian, we will take you to the Horse later, but Rachel says John is asking after you. Fancy a bit more company?”

He sighed. “Be good, pet. See some people who aren’t sick or trying to make me sick, bit crack, aye. Oh, Eric says he’d like to stop by. Give him a shout?”

I left him to the other women and stood in the hallway for some quiet while I rang.

“Johnsons!”

“Hiya Darren. Eric or Annie in?”

“MUM! FOR YOU!”

“Annie Johnson”

“Hi, Annie, it’s Jill”

“Oh, Eric was saying, he’s out today, aye? How is he?”

“Been better, but wants a pint tonight. We’re off to the Black Horse later. Know it?”

“We’ll find it. Ale and comfort food, aye?”

“Oh yes. Rachel has him on chicken soup, like”

Annie laughed out loud. “With her name I should have guessed, aye? Girls bearing up?”

“Oh, pet, I really think we did the wrong thing. They saw him, just now, looking so ill, and when he left them, like… it’s such a change. They have to go along to see him for the next session. Not fair otherwise”

“Aye, good point. Look, what time?”

“Sevenish?”

“Sounds good. Anything you need?”

“All sorted, like, at this end. Just, well, I think he needs a bit of life round him, a bit of gentle revival. How, had a thought. Simon might be good”

“I’ll give a shout. Seven?”

“Seven”

Ian was dozing when I returned to the living room, and I wondered if he would actually be able to take the stress of going out to a pub. I found a blanket for him, and Bethy smiled as she helped me tuck it round him.

“Aunty Jill?”

“Yes, pet?”

“Daddy says to tell you don’t even think about not going to the pub. A woman should know her place, he says”

I sniffed. “And what place is that, exactly?”

Bethy grinned. “I asked him that, yeah, and he like smiles and says, ‘with her family, course’, sneaky thing!”

“You OK?”

“Have to be. No choice. Hays, well, we’ll make her OK, cause Daddy is first, and Hays understands that. This pub, it’s got like music?”

“Don’t think so, pet”

“Good. He says family, we do family”

The first pint was at seven fifteen, John and Alec joining us ten minutes later and a vicar, his fiancée and three Johnsons two minutes after that. There was a theme of sorts, and it was distraction. John kept Ian smiling with Army tales, as Annie chipped in with anecdotes of hapless thieves and inept drunks. Alec just watched happily while Darren joked with and teased my nieces. Annie’s cousin bypassed everyone else and cut straight to her own questions.

“Simon and I will have your service pass as delightfully as possible, ladies, but we will have to have some prior, warning of the arrangements. Bridesmaids, best… person, how…”

She frowned, and took a mouthful of her tea.

“Look, it is rather traditional for the bride to arrive after her intended is in position before my own intended, aye? But here we have two brides, and so it must be asked, what is the order of things to be?”

Simon chuckled. “And the other question?”

“Be silent, darling. Yes, the other question”

Ian was smiling now, the pint seeming to ease his mood, and all ears and eyes were now on Miriam. She sat up straighter, bringing her knees together, and for a moment I saw Rachel in her. Merry’s head was steady, though, her expression earnest.

“The question must be asked! What is the colour scheme to be? I must not clash!”

up
105 users have voted.
If you liked this post, you can leave a comment and/or a kudos! Click the "Thumbs Up!" button above to leave a Kudos

Comments

Been there...

Andrea Lena's picture

I knew the answer, the nausea and pain festering in his eyes. What was the point? It was all a waste of time, the doctors would never win, was it worth the pain: the questions sat there between us, unspoken. I clung to his promise.

As painful as moments like these can be; even in real life I wouldn't trade them for all the world. Thank you.

  

To be alive is to be vulnerable. Madeleine L'Engle
Love, Andrea Lena

A poignant economy of words.

So much implied in the three words of the opening sentence. "It went on." It conveys what it needs, while leaving enough for experience and imagination to fill in all the details.

Mostly, I follow this for the story, and the life events of your fictitious but seemingly life like characters. But I wanted to call out a bit of writing craft I thought particularly well done.

Thank you

There is a lot of 'background' lurking in this one, a few references that I hope are visible. Life continues for characters even when they are off stage, in real life. That's what I strive for.

The thing about this sort of illness is exactly why I chose that form of words. It goes on, and on. It is also why I brought Merry in at the end, as Dorothy notes. Shout at the devil and in the words of Granny Weatherwax, 'I ate'nt dead!'

" I must not clash!”

giggle. Love the contrast - the sickness of cancer, the vibrancy of a wedding ..

DogSig.png

Everybody is hoping and rooting for Ian

It's mostly down to the drugs and 'The-will-to-live'. That part will certainly be bettered if Ian can see caring friends willing him to come through it. Hope springs eternal if Ian can see a light at the end of his tunnel.

As to the forthcoming nuptials, well, the actors and artists have got a clear stage and a white canvas on which to make their marks.

Go for it Jill, be bold, be proud but most of all, be brave!

Good chapter, (again).

XX

Bev.

bev_1.jpg

Right Priorities

joannebarbarella's picture

As long as he wants a pint Ian hasn't given up on life.

And Merry is absolutely right, too.

I'll PM you when I get your new addy sorted.

Joanne