Change of Life (3 page)

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Authors: Anne Stormont

Tags: #Fiction, #General

BOOK: Change of Life
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“It must have been nice – together and all cosy in the dark,” said Ruby.

“There was a nightlight – it was for Heather. She was afraid of the dark so I used to tell her stories before we fell asleep. But yes, it was nice – the bed was our place. In it we were close and safe. But then we grew up – grew apart…” I gave a little shudder.

“Oh, Rosie, I’m sorry.” Ruby put her hand on mine. “I didn’t think. These must be upsetting. I shouldn’t be so nosey. I’ll put them away.”

“No – honestly – it’s all right. It’s nice you’re interested, and the photos are a reminder of the happy times. I was thinking about Heather earlier on today – about the less happy stuff - so it’s been nice to see these. You take your time looking through them all. I better get back.”

I was still thinking about my sister when the boy ran into my car a couple of minutes later.

 

Chapter Three

 

That afternoon, at work, I was distracted – to say the least. I just wanted to get home. The call from the hospital, the encounter with the boy – I needed time to think. As soon as I got home I went to sit in the garden.

I loved my garden. I liked that it thrived on partial neglect – unlike my husband and children, who seemed to need constant attention. It regularly surprised me with some self-seeded beauty or unanticipated flowering.

I wanted to enjoy the late afternoon sunshine, to breathe in the sea air mingled with the smell of next door’s freshly cut grass, to catch the perfume of my beautiful shrub roses. I wanted to relish the sound of our resident blackbird, proclaiming his good mood, as he sat amidst the vibrant pink blossom of the cherry tree. But the scents were muted; the birdsong distant - and the scene seemed, somehow, out of focus. Mother Nature had taken on a malignant face. All I could think of was – cancer. I tried to keep it in perspective – it could be nothing – something benign. But I was petrified – scared of pain, of dying, of not seeing my children grow up.

No-one knew I’d found a lump. No one knew I’d already been to the doctor or the hospital. I wasn’t sure why I was so reluctant to tell. I suspected it was partly because talking about something makes it real. I also suspected that if I told Tom, he would jump in and take control. He wouldn’t listen to what I wanted.

Of course, I’d needed some sort of explanation when I went to see Kirsty about getting away early on Thursday. I called in at her office on my way out of school, as I did on most days.

“I’m sorry it’s short notice,” I said. “I only heard today.”

“Oh that’s okay, I’m sure I’ll be able to cover for the last hour. Nothing serious I hope?”

“No, no it’s menopause stuff. I’ve to have some tests.” It was only a partial lie but I still felt guilty.

I knew that if I wanted to keep my hospital appointment secret and get through the next couple of days without blurting it all out, then I would have to suppress my fears, or at least not give in to them - and try to be optimistic.

Having just about got my health worries under control, my mind switched the focus of its unease to the boy. Why did he seem so familiar? Maybe he simply reminded me of Adam. I tried not to be anxious about him. I was certain he wasn’t hurt by our collision – but something about our meeting niggled.

Yes, I was curious. Why had he concealed himself? He must have been hiding – pressed against, or crouching below, the hedge – after all, I’d have seen him if he’d been walking down the street. But it was more than curiosity. For some reason I felt protective of him.

I was reluctant to mention it to Tom. He’d assume the lad was up to no good. He’d pay no attention to pleas from me on the boy’s behalf.

 

“I have to be out of here by quarter-past-seven.” Sam was just in from work. I was back indoors preparing the evening meal. “When’s dinner ready? What are we having?” She rummaged in the fridge as she spoke.

“Around six-thirty and
it’s bolognaise
.”

“Mm - any chance of a lift into town – that would mean I could leave later?”

“I could run you, but I do have preparation to do for school tomorrow.”

“Great, cool.” Sam apparently only heard the first part of my reply.

“How was work?” I asked.

“Tedious,” she said, nibbling on a piece of cheese. “I wish I was still in Australia.”

“Yes, well welcome to the real world. You need to earn some money for university in the autumn.”

“I know. I worked in Australia too, but that was cool. Tesco is so boring!” Sam laid her pickings from the fridge on the worktop. She pushed her hair back with one hand and wound it into a knot on top of her head. With her other hand she unclipped a large hair slide from the neck of her tee-shirt and rammed it into the coil of her thick, wavy hair. Her hands were so like Tom’s with their long slim fingers. She was the only one of our children to have inherited Tom’s dark hair and brown eyes. She was tall like him too, at about five-foot-nine, a good couple of inches taller than Jenny and me. She even moved with the same long-limbed grace as he did. She was her father’s daughter.

“It’s not for long,” I said. “You’ll be in St Andrews before you know it. I do envy you. I loved my time there.”

“Yes, Mother, I think you may have mentioned that a couple of times. I’m off for a bath.” With that, she scooped up her snack items and left the kitchen.

“Bring all the dishes down from your room please!” I shook my head as I thought of the clutter and disarray that was her bedroom.

A moment later, Jenny appeared in the kitchen, carrying various garments belonging to her older sister. “Madam wants these washed. She needs them tomorrow apparently.”

“Ah, okay, I’ll do my best.”

Jenny shook her head and rolled her eyes. “It’s very wasteful to run the machine for just a few things.”

“Yes, I know - but you know your sister. Anyway never mind that, how was the exam?”

“Oh – okay really, I suppose. There were a couple of very difficult questions. I don’t know if I’ve passed or not. But it’s not essential. I’m more worried about getting an A in my music.”

“I’m sure you’ll do that,” I said. “You sounded superb when you were practising.”


Mmm
– I’m not up to your standard, but fingers crossed I’ve done enough. Anyway, Mother – getting back to Sam - it’s pathetic how you let her walk all over you. She needs to learn to plan ahead and do things for herself.”

This sounded so like Tom that I burst out laughing.

“Yeah, yeah, I sound like dad! But she can be such a lazy cow. Anyway, what are we having for dinner?”

“Spag-bol – and don’t call your sister a cow.”

Max came into the kitchen.
“Tut, tut, Jenny.”

Jenny put her tongue out at her wee brother. Max returned the gesture and then turned to me. “When’s dinner? What are we having? I’m starving.” Before I could reply, the phone rang.

“Spag-bol, six-thirty.
Could you set the table, please? Everyone’s in for dinner.”

I grabbed the phone and closed the kitchen door behind me to muffle Max’s protestations about the fairness of my request. I went through to the living room to take the call.

It was Tom. “Hi, I’m in the car – nearly home. What’s for dinner? I’m famished.”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake, is that all you lot think about?”

“What?”

“What’s for dinner? Adam’s the only one not to have asked me that in the last ten minutes and that’s only because I haven’t seen him. It’s spag-bol – nothing exciting.”

“Are the kids giving you a hard time?” Tom asked.

“No, not really.
I’m merely wondering what
you’d all
do if I didn’t produce a meal one night. What if I wasn’t here or wasn’t able? It’s taken for granted isn’t it? Good old Mum keeping it all going!”

“So get them to help more. I don’t know about you, but I’m shattered. I’ve been in theatre all day. It’ll be good to get home and relax. I’ll see you shortly.”

Dismissive, self-absorbed, complacent, these were some of the words that came to mind as I listened to my husband. I knew I shouldn’t ignore how I was feeling. I should talk to Tom about the state of our relationship. But he was unaware there was anything wrong and would make me feel I was being over-dramatic. It also felt like such an effort to confront him and I was so bloody tired.

Before going back to the kitchen, I paused to look out of the living room window. Our house sat high up at the top of a steeply sloping front garden so, even on the ground floor, it was possible to look straight out across the promenade and the top of the dunes over the Firth of Forth to Fife. A ferry was ploughing along the estuary, on its journey to Bruges. I always thought there was something very romantic about the ferry. I spent a minute speculating about the people on board, who they might be and why they were making the crossing to the continent on this particular May evening. I envied them, setting off on their adventure, free from routine. And then I heard my mother’s voice saying be careful what you wish for.

 

Chapter Four

 

Max sat at the table, knife and fork in hand, as I put the finishing touches to
the bolognaise
. He looked angelic with his thick, blond curls and blue eyes. I asked him to tell the others that dinner was ready.

“I do everything round here!” he said, but he was smiling as he left the kitchen. “Hi, Dad!” he shouted, on his way up the hall. Toby barked as the front door clattered shut and Tom appeared in the kitchen.

He held out a bottle of red wine. “It was on special offer at the off-licence – that South African red you like - a treat to cheer you up.”

“I don’t need cheering up.” I said, thinking of Tom’s, not insubstantial, wine collection in the cupboard under the stairs. This was clearly not an occasion worthy of wine from his cellar. I also thought that what I needed was for Tom to notice me, not patronise me.

“I’ll open it now,” he said, rummaging in the drawer for the corkscrew. “We can have a glass with dinner and the rest while we watch one of these DVDs we haven’t got around to yet. I can leave the paperwork for one night.”

“I can’t have a drink now. I promised to run Sam into town. Then I’ve got preparation to do for school tomorrow.”

“Why does Sam need a lift? There’s a bus and she has a driving licence come to that.”

“She hasn’t got time to get the bus apparently,” I replied. Jenny started to say something and I threw her a warning glance to be quiet. I knew she wanted to get her
tuppence
worth in on the selfishness of her sister. “And there’s nowhere to park in town,” I added. “You know what it’s like in the centre of Edinburgh. I know there’s the multi-storey, but it’s not safe for her to be walking back to it alone.”

“She’s unlikely to be alone,” Tom said. “The usual gang will be there presumably. You’re not her chauffeur. I’ll talk to her.”

“It’s fine. I don’t mind. It’ll only take an hour or so.”

He shook his head. I willed him to offer to run Sam, so I could get on with my school work, but it clearly didn’t cross his mind.

At that, Sam, Jenny and Adam arrived in the kitchen. Max pushed past them and ran to the table. I started serving up as they sat down. Adam was having a tug of war with Toby over one of Toby’s toys. The Labrador’s determination not to give in brought a rare smile to Adam’s face.

“Adam, not at the table
please
,” I said, as I laid down two plates. “Put him out in the hall. You know the rules for goodness sake.”

“Yeh, yeh, I was just going to.” He got up and sent Toby to his bed.

Soon we were all settled and eating. I tried to relax, stay in the present,
enjoy
this shared, family time.

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