Change of Life (30 page)

“But not all?”

No, Max, not all.
But I’m sure he’ll do his best to make Mum - feel better.”

His face flushed and he started to cry.
I went to get up, to console him, but he flew into a rage, pummelling the sofa with his fists and feet. I let him go, let him get it all out.

Eventually he said, “But will he be able to cure Mum? Will he? What if he can’t? What if he can’t?” He was all anger and fear. His eyes were huge and there was such pain on his face.

I got up and went to him. I put my arms round him. He hammered at my chest with his fists. He tried to push me away but I held on tight as he sobbed and shouted, “No, no,” and “Mum, Mum.”

When he was exhausted and offering no resistance, I guided him over to the battered old sofa under the window and sat with him. He leant against me and I stroked his hair. He wept quietly and for a long time. In the end he fell asleep there on the sofa. I picked him up and carried him upstairs to his room.

As I bent to put him into his bed he opened his eyes and whispered, “Your bed.” So I took him through and placed him on Rosie’s side of our bed. “Love you, Dad,” he said as he settled in under the duvet.

From then on it became a regular thing for Max to sleep beside me. He would appear during the night and climb in the bed. He seemed, at those times, to be in a semi-sleepwalking state. It didn’t bother me to have him with me. In fact it was a comfort to me too. I’d been finding it increasingly difficult to sleep alone in the big, empty bed.

The girls on the other hand were quiet and didn’t share their worries very readily with me. They talked to each other about Rosie’s cancer and I know they looked up breast cancer on the internet. They were very sweet with me, very sensitive to how I might be feeling.

One time, during the first couple of weeks after hearing of their mother’s illness, I walked in on them in the den and they were at the computer. They quickly closed down what they were looking at - but not before I noticed that it was the
Cancerbackup
website that they’d been on.

They talked to my mother about the disease and about Rosie’s chances of survival. It was she who confirmed that they were doing their own research because they didn’t want to upset me.

Sam swung between wanting to be with her mother and feeling very angry and resentful at Rosie’s absence. One day I came home earlier than expected and found Sam sitting in the living room crying. She tried hard to cover up the fact she was upset, but I couldn’t play along. My heart went out to her and I couldn’t pretend not to have noticed her distress.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” I sat down and slipped my arm round her shoulders. It turned out she’d been to see Rosie that day.
Rosie’d
been feeling unwell and her hair had started to fall out. She’d had her second dose of chemo earlier that week.

“I hate seeing her like that, Dad. She seems so weak – not like Mum at all.”

I hugged her. “I know. It’s the treatment – the chemo. Try not to worry. Once she’s finished the course she’ll get stronger.”

“But you didn’t see her, Dad. She kept being sick and she’s really thin. You should go and see her. You’d know what to do, wouldn’t you – if you saw her?”

I shrugged. “I don’t think…”

“You could persuade her to come home – if you really tried. She’s being stupid – being angry about you and Robbie. She should’ve got over that by now.”

“ It’s
not only about me not telling her about Robbie. There’s more to it than that.” I wanted Sam to understand, but I couldn’t tell her what Rosie suspected about me and Heather, or about how much she resented my over-protective attitude. “I’m not what your Mum needs right now. I promised her I’d let her do this her way – on her own.”

“Well you shouldn’t have promised!” Sam left, slamming the door behind her.

I agreed with Sam. I wished I hadn’t promised to stay away and I desperately wanted to see Rosie and to help her. I hadn’t seen her for about three weeks at that point – not since the day I’d told her about Adam and she’d told me she was ill.

Fortunately, Sam did not remain angry with me for long. Later, the same day, she came and put her head round the door of the den. “Sorry, Dad,” she said.

I stood up and held out my arms to her. “Come here. I’m sorry too,” I said, as we hugged.

“You don’t need to be sorry, Dad. I’m just worried about Mum and I wish she was here with us.”

“I know you do, love. We all want her well and home. But we have to be patient and give her the time and space she needs.”

“It’s just – it’s hard – you know?” Sam was crying again. All I could do was hold her.

Jenny was probably the strongest of all of us. Although she could be very intense and serious about all sorts of things and had a very sensitive nature, she was also very strong and determined. She was just as worried about her mother as the rest of us and she missed her twin terribly, but she was able to channel her worry and concern into practical action.

For Rosie, Jenny researched breast cancer treatments and sources of support. Jenny’d been learning to drive since her birthday, the previous April, and she got me and her Uncle Dan to take her out for practice sessions. In the middle of July she passed her test first time. I told her about the Maggie’s Centre – a place of respite for cancer patients at the hospital - and suggested she might like to drive Rosie there, which she did. She also drove Rosie to her chemotherapy appointments on a few occasions.

But, it was in her efforts to get Adam back home and communicating with his mother, that Jenny was at her most indefatigable. Jenny’d always been protective of her twin brother. Adam didn’t speak until he was nearly four and, up till then, Jenny did all his talking for him. Even once he started talking, she continued to speak up for him, if she thought his needs weren’t being met. She’d interpret his mood for the uncomprehending adults at home and nursery school, telling us when he was hungry, or tired or scared. She also stood up for him if another child looked as if they might be about to bully or hurt her brother – even if she got into trouble for being over zealous in her protection. And Jenny continued to feel she had to look out for her brother, even into their teenage years. She said to me that she felt guilty she hadn’t realised how Adam was feeling before he ran away. She was annoyed at herself for being so wrapped up in her show rehearsals that she didn’t notice he wasn’t at school. No amount of reassurance from me would ease her sense of having failed her brother.

So she made it her mission to get Adam talking to Rosie and to get him to come home. She went to see him regularly at Ruby’s. At first she went alone. Then later she got Robbie and Eilidh to go with her on some of the visits. Kirsty’s daughter, Eilidh, was one of Jenny’s closest friends. Jenny explained that Eilidh being there made the visits less intense. She also said that Eilidh was someone who Adam liked and trusted. She was sure that if Adam got to know Robbie, he’d be much more relaxed about coming home. Sometimes they all hung out at Ruby’s, but at other times the three of them would visit Adam at the karting centre. They’d even been to Robbie’s house on a couple of occasions.

Apart from our worries about Adam and Rosie, the rest of us - Sam, Jenny, Max and I, got along quite well. Ruby propped us up with her sheer common sense and practical support. Her unyielding positivity was refreshing and energizing. She watched over Adam and, although, at the time, we missed having him with us at home, he was in the best place. It was good Jenny was seeing him, but if he’d been at home the strain would have been unbearable for both of us. I think we’d have continued to argue and resolved nothing. I’d have been impatient with him and he’d have dug his heels in. It would also have been difficult to have Robbie round and get to know him.

There really was no thank you big enough to express my gratitude to Ruby for what she did that summer. But when I tried to tell her so she’d just shake her head and walk away, embarrassed.

In the last week before school broke up, I went along to Max’s school concert and Primary Seven presentation. I felt very proud of him as he was awarded his graduation certificate and his book token. He also took part in a leavers’ rap – he’d written it with his friends Connor and Neil. He brought the house down with his impressions of various members of staff.

I also visited Rosie’s class, one afternoon, to deliver a letter from her to them. I’d been a bit apprehensive about doing this, but Rosie was very keen that I go in person with the letter, and it felt good to be able to do something for her. It was scary speaking to the class, but they were thrilled to hear from her and had made her a card. I hadn’t realised how loved she was as a teacher, another humbling experience in what was becoming a long list for me.

During the same week I went to see Jenny in
Grease
, at her school. I thought she was the best actress and singer in it, of course. It was nice to be at the school for a happy reason. My previous couple of visits had been to discuss Adam’s situation,

and
to get the school to agree to hold his place until the new session.

I videoed both Max’s and Jenny’s performances for Rosie to watch, and I heard from the children that all three of them enjoyed an evening at the flat spent watching the footage.

As the summer progressed, I settled into my job share with Anna. She’d been taken aback when I asked her about job sharing the consultant’s post. But she’d been very happy about it, once she got over the shock.

Sam continued to do a lot of the domestic work at home, but she and Ruby also took me in hand and trained me up in the many tasks that had hitherto been a mystery to me. I was soon able to do the weekly shop at the supermarket and to both load and set off the washing machine.

Sam, Ruby, my mother and I also made sure that one of us was always around for Max, when he wasn’t staying with Rosie. Andy was enlisted to teach me the rudiments of cooking and Sheena supplied several more recipes. I took Sheena out for a meal as a thank you for her life-saving coq au vin recipe. We spent a very pleasant evening. Sheena was good company, and I saw a much more relaxed side to her than I did at work.

My mother supported me in my efforts to get the garden into some sort of order and I conscripted Max to help me. I felt connected to Rosie while I worked amongst her beloved plants. It was like it gave me something tangible to offer her. And it was also good fun to be working with Ma and Max.

About half way through the school holidays Max, his friend Neil and I went away for a few days camping up north. Dan and Andy came along too. I actually enjoyed our time away and I think Max did too. The five of us had a lot of laughs and it was good to see Max enjoying himself. For me it was good to get a break from the house.

I loved our home, but without Rosie and Adam it could be unbearable at times. I missed the thumping base that used to emanate from Adam’s room and the sound of him clattering down the stairs. And I continued to
miss
Rosie’s music.

One summer afternoon, when I came home from work, I heard the piano being played – it was a Chopin piece -one of Rosie’s. I flung open the dining room door. But, of course, it was Jenny playing. She could tell by my face what I’d been hoping, that for a few insane seconds, I’d hoped it was Rosie playing. She apologised, saying that she found it comforting to play things her mother loved. I told her not to be sorry and asked her to play again for me. It was both painful and pleasurable to listen.

During the school holidays I also managed to get Max to the barber’s and to an overdue dental check up. I grew to admire Rosie even more as I discovered first hand how tricky, and how tiring, it could be doing all the domestic stuff and working.

However, much as I enjoyed being with the children and, much as I regretted all the time I’d missed being an active father to them, I still loved my job. I still found myself driving home on a high after a day in theatre. I found my work to be great therapy when the missing of Rosie and Adam got to be too much.

At times the craving to see Rosie was agonising, but I stuck to my promise and let her be. I got into a pattern of phoning her twice a week, once at the weekend and once during the week on a day when I wasn’t working. I looked forward to these calls so much that they became the highlights of my week. I longed to hear her voice, and even managed to make her laugh at times, with some of the daft stories I told about how we were all getting along. To hear her laugh made me feel so good, for a few, all too brief, moments. I would find myself saving up little bits of chat about the kids or my mother or Ruby or even about work, just so I could keep her on the line a bit longer. I think we both tried to keep the calls as light-hearted as possible.