Change of Life (29 page)

“And you think Mum’ll survive?” he looked up at me.

“I can’t - I don’t – we can’t know for sure, son,” I sat down again too. “But she’s taking all the treatment she’s offered and she’s got lots of things in her favour. The cancer was picked up quite early and she’s being well looked after.” I didn’t sound convincing, even to myself.

“So, is Mum coming home – so you can look after her?”

And there it was – the question was back – hanging there – I could take it down – use it. “No – not at the moment,” I answered. “She prefers to do this her way. She thinks she can cope better if she stays at the flat for the time being.”

“Why – why does she? She’s still angry with you.
isn’t
she – about Robbie?”

“Yes, it’s partly that, but it’s – it’s complicated, Adam. But I know she’d like it – and so would I, of course
- if
you’d come home.”

But, no I couldn’t leave it at that. The Rosie and Rick scene was back. Adrenalin spurred me on. I jumped to my feet, began to pace.

“If you’d come home – please, Adam – if you’d just come back – then Mum…”

“No!” Adam stood up to face me. “No, way – I’m not coming back…” A look of fear crossed his face. “I can’t come back.”

He sank into the nearest chair and looked up at the ceiling, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes. But tears still ran down his face. “Mum,” he groaned. “Oh fuck, oh fuck.”

I went to him and put my hand on his shoulder.

He pushed me away. “Get off me! Leave me alone! Mum’s going to die and I’m never coming home.”

“Please – son – don’t! I don’t care about the exams, uni – it doesn’t matter – please just come back.” I meant what I said. It wasn’t a sly move. Yes it was born out of desperation, but Adam’s future was just that – something for later – right now it was the present that mattered.

But Adam wasn’t having it, wasn’t convinced. I couldn’t blame him.

“Yeah, right,” was all he
said.

I held up my arms in a gesture of despair. I looked at Adam, at his face. His expression was – well, I wasn’t sure exactly – I’d expected anger, contempt even, at my manoeuvrings – but no, it was neither of those. I think what I saw was pity. He slowly shook his head. I had to look away.

I stood looking out the window for a moment, hating myself. Christ, had I learned nothing lately? This wasn’t about me or what
I
was prepared to do. I turned back to face my son.

“Well, will you at least think about going to see Mum?” I pleaded. “I know she’d like that, Adam. I know you’re angry with us both, but Mum needs you to forgive her and she needs to see you.”

He looked wary again. “I don’t know.”

“Well, think about it – will you – please?” He nodded slowly. I knew I should probably go. I’d got as far as I could for that visit. I told Adam to call me anytime and that I’d see him again very soon.

He shrugged and said, “Whatever.”

I couldn’t help feeling I was getting the blame for Rosie being ill, on top of everything else he held against me. On my way out, I spoke to Ruby and asked her to keep an eye on him. She said she would and patted my arm comfortingly as she said goodbye. I didn’t deserve her comfort – I did not feel good about myself.

Not long after I got home, Kirsty and my mother arrived with Max and the girls. The children were very quiet as they came into the house with their grandmother. Kirsty stayed in the car. All three had obviously been crying. Sam was very pale.
I held
out my arms to them.

“Oh, Dad,” Sam said, as she came to me. I put one arm round her. Max ran and put his arms round my waist and Jenny came into my other arm. My mother looked stricken too. She said she’d phone me later. I could only nod at her as she left.

All thoughts of Rick, and what was going on with him and Rosie, had to be put to one side as, for the next couple of hours, I comforted my children and tried to allay their fears about their mother. I had to focus only on them, for the time being. I didn’t mention Rick, and they didn’t speak about him to me.

Dan arrived around seven. He’d brought three large pizzas with him and he did his usual thing of lightening everyone’s mood.

When my mother phoned later, I asked her if she’d stayed with the children while Rosie broke the news. She said she hadn’t, that she and Kirsty had dropped the children off and then gone for a walk in the Hermitage Park nearby, and from there to a coffee shop. She said that
Rosie’d
wanted to be alone with the children. I didn’t say that Rosie hadn’t been alone. My mother didn’t mention Rick, and I felt sure she was unaware he’d been there.

I phoned Kirsty after speaking to my mother. I thanked her for what she’d done that day. She said that was what friends were for and it was a small thing to do. She didn’t mention Rick either and, for some reason, I couldn’t bring myself to ask her if she knew anything.

When I called Rosie the following morning, I told myself that I was just phoning to check how she was, and to tell her about my visit to the Sutherlands, and to Adam. But I knew that what I really wanted to do was to suggest going to see her. I wanted to see her face to face and tell her about my visits the day before. But I also wanted to tell her all the stuff that had happened with Heather seventeen years before. And I wanted to see if she’d tell me about Rick.

The conversation began pleasantly enough. Rosie wanted to know how the children were. I told her they were coping and that I realised the previous day must have been very difficult for her. I asked how she was doing. She said she was very tired.

I told her how I’d got on with Adam – leaving out my pathetic pleadings. She was concerned about how he’d taken the news of her illness. I tried to put as positive a spin as I could on what he’d said. She was grateful I’d told him. She seemed to accept I’d done my best.

She asked me to explain, again, to Jenny and Max that she wouldn’t be at their end of term plays and prizegivings. Apart from not feeling up to it, she’d been advised to avoid large gatherings of people because of her lowered immunity due to the chemo. She said she’d tried to explain it to the children already, but she wasn’t sure they’d taken it in.

She was keen to hear how the meal with Robbie had gone, and was surprised and interested when I told her about meeting his parents.

It was when I asked if I could see her later that things deteriorated. “I’d like to come to the flat, Rosie. I’d like to see you. I can tell you about the Sutherlands - and all the stuff that happened around the time Robbie was born – I need to tell you more about that.”

She hesitated before she answered. “I don’t know - it’s…”

“Please, Rosie.” I’d like to see you. I came to see you yesterday, actually. I had this - I needed to be with you and the kids.”

“You came yesterday?
When?”

“In the afternoon – on my way back from the Sutherlands – I got as far as the stair door. I looked in the window. I saw him, Rosie. I saw Rick – with you and the children. So-”

“So – what?”

“So I didn’t – I couldn’t come in.”

“Why not?
Why couldn’t you?”

“Because he was there, Rosie - Rick was there – he had his arm round you. I thought-”

“You thought what, Tom? What did you think?” She sounded angry now.

“I don’t – I didn’t-”

“You think me and Rick
- you
think we’re together – in a relationship – a sexual relationship – don’t you?”

I was thrown by her directness. “Yes – no – I mean
I
-”

“Fuck off, Tom! Fuck off! How dare you? How dare you spy on me and then make assumptions and judgements?
After what you’ve done!”

“I didn’t – I wasn’t – I …I thought he was away…”

“Rick is home just now – home here at the flat. Remember it’s his home – he pays us rent?” She sounded sarcastic now. “He arrived back last week. And it’s been good to have him around. He’s been very understanding about my – my situation.”

“Well, that’s nice for you.” Now who was being sarcastic?

“Yes, it is. It’s very nice actually. We’re going out for a short walk and then he’s going to cook – see if he can tempt me to eat. So don’t come to the flat, Tom. It’s not convenient and I really don’t want you to.”

“Please, Rosie – I need to see you. I could go for a walk with you, cook you something – you don’t need Rick Montgomery to do that. I love you, Rosie – please.”

“Tom, no – I can’t see you just now. If you really do love me, then please leave me be.”

“I don’t want to. I want you to be with you. We need to talk at least.”

“I know we do – but not yet, Tom. I’m not ready. I need to be by myself for now.”

“But you’re not by yourself are you? You’re with him – with Rick.”

“You’re being ridiculous. I’m not with Rick – not in the way you mean.”

“What am I supposed to think, Rosie?”

“I don’t know, Tom. That’s up to you and whether you trust me. It’s not a nice feeling is it – not knowing whether your partner can be trusted,” she spoke more quietly now. “Look, I have to go. Thanks for letting me know about the children and for telling Adam. I’m glad about you and Robbie and the Sutherlands. It’s great – really.”

“Yes, but...”

“And I do need you to let me know how the children are – I mean how they really are. I know they’ll put on a brave face for me. So do keep calling me. And keep in touch with Adam – keep trying with him - you’ll do that, won’t you?

“Of course I will.”

“Good – but please, Tom, don’t come round. Please, promise me you’ll let me do things my way for now.”

“I don’t understand – this need you have to be away from us, from me. I just want to take care of you.”

“I know you do. That’s how we got into this mess, Tom – you taking care of things and me letting you. So can you promise to let me take care of myself for now?”

Reluctantly, I promised.

Chapter Twenty Eight

For the first few days after their visit to Rosie, Max and the girls were in shock.

Max asked lots of questions and got very cross if I couldn’t give definitive and positive answers. Like Adam, he wanted me to answer the question of whether his mother would die from her cancer with an unequivocal no. He wanted to know exactly how long his mother would be ill. He wanted to know why I wasn’t treating her and making her better. He wanted to know why she wasn’t coming home and having me as her doctor. These and other questions were asked several times over and on different occasions. They’d be reworded and reframed, as if, by reshaping them, he would get a different and more acceptable answer. I didn’t want to mislead him or give him false hope, but I also wanted to give him something to hold onto. I don’t think I made a good job of it.

One evening, about two weeks after Rosie told the children she was ill, and just after he’d returned from staying with Rosie for several days, Max came through to the den. I was busy doing some paperwork. He was in his pyjamas, standing just inside the door and his expression was fearful, almost haunted.

“Does the doctor that’s treating Mum really know what he’s doing?” he asked, yet again.

“Yes, Maxy, as I’ve said before, he’s one of the best there is.”

“And have the other people that he’s treated – who had the same as Mum – have they got better?”

I so wanted to lie – but I knew I mustn’t. “Well, yes, he has made some of them better.”