“Hi, Mum, how are you feeling today?”
“Hi, son,” I replied keeping my voice calm. “I’m well, thanks. No chemo this week.”
“That’s good. I’ve got my results here.”
“Yes?”
“I got my maths –I got a C in my maths! How cool’s that?”
I could hear the smile, the delight in his voice.
I smiled too as I spoke. “It’s very cool, son – very cool. Well done – you’re obviously pleased about it – and so am I – higher maths is a great achievement – really it is!” I stopped at that. Don’t gush, I reminded myself.
“I’ve never done anything this nerdy before – me – higher maths – still a C’s not too nerdy is it.”
I laughed.
“What you laughing at?” He didn’t sound defensive. I could still hear his smile.
“You, Adam, you – but in a nice way.”
He laughed back. “Okay – if you say so. I failed the others by the way.”
I took a deep breath. “And how do you feel about that?”
“Okay – I got a D in English – which is better than I expected and an E in biology.
“Right – well - you sound positive, I’m glad. I’m really proud of you. Well done, Ad.”
“I guess. Anyway, I better go. You’ll tell Dad about my results, yeah?”
“Yes, I will.
Bye, son.”
I called Tom at the hospital right away. I guessed he’d be feeling as nervous as I’d been. Sheena answered. She told me Tom was just out of theatre and she’d page him.
When he came on the line he sounded out of breath. “Rosie, hi – are you okay?
Everything all right?”
“Yes, Tom, everything’s fine. Thanks.”
“He called then?”
“Yes, he called. He passed his maths – got a C.” I heard a little gasp from Tom. I wasn’t sure if this was because of joy or disappointment. Did Tom see it as
only
a C? I continued. “He thinks it’s cool and not too nerdy. Don’t you think he did well to pass?”
“Yes, yes I do,” said Tom. “It’s good. What about the rest?”
“He failed the rest – but as he said – not as miserably as he’d feared.”
There was momentary pause before Tom spoke. “I don’t suppose the subject of him going back to school came up?”
“No, Tom, it didn’t. I think he’s made it clear what he thinks on that score. I really don’t think we should push it. The main thing is he’s feeling positive.”
“Yes – you’re right of course. I need to let the school thing go, don’t I?”
“Yes you do, Tom. Adam’s made it clear. He’s going to be making his own decisions from now on.”
“God, I really screwed up with Adam, didn’t I?”
“No – no you didn’t. You want the best for him – that’s a good thing – you care. I got it wrong too. I stifled him. I was far too protective. I thought he couldn’t cope on his own and he quite clearly can. We both need to give him space.”
“Yes, and thanks, Rosie, it means a lot that you don’t blame me.” He spoke very quietly.
I wished we were together in the same room. I wanted to touch him. But I was aware he was at work, and I wasn’t sure if he was alone. So I didn’t say anything.
Then he added, even more quietly, “Over Adam at least.”
Chapter Thirty Six
As September began, Edinburgh quietened down and settled herself. The crowds of summer tourists had gone home and the bustle of the festival was over. It had been the hottest summer for years, but the weather broke with several dramatic thunderstorms at the end of August. Autumn’s muted tones were reflected in the city’s more sedate pace, and I experienced a similar calming down after my own fraught summer.
The cooler air, misty mornings and wash of glorious autumnal colour over the city’s parks, gardens and tree-lined streets were all soul soothing. And as the season changed, I sensed I too had reached a turning point.
It was during the first week of September that Adam came to have dinner with me. It was his suggestion. I hadn’t seen him since he visited Tom and me at the flat a month before. I was apprehensive, like when awaiting his exam results phone call. As then, I knew I must be calm and not rush anything.
He brought me flowers, freesias, which surprised and delighted me. He’d never done anything like that before.
“They’re my favourites,” I said. “Thank you.” I wanted to kiss him, but settled for patting his arm. He looked at the floor, embarrassed. He seemed to have grown again and had become even ganglier.
But the thing that struck me
most,
was how like Tom he looked. He was becoming a fair-haired version of his father. As he ran his hands through his hair, a flustered gesture straight from Tom’s repertoire, I had such a strong desire to be with Tom that it knocked the breath out of me for a moment.
“God, Mum, are you okay?” he asked. “I know it’s a shock – me giving you flowers – it was Robbie’s idea –he said they were your favourites.”
“Yes, I’m okay – sorry – never mind me. I was just thinking how like your Dad you’re getting. And it made me think I was missing him – that’s all.” I hadn’t meant to blurt that out to Adam.
“Right – well that’s good isn’t it – you missing Dad? Maybe you’re ready to talk to him – maybe go home?”
“Well, I don’t know about that. So, it was Robbie’s idea – the flowers?”
“Yes – I had dinner at his house yesterday – he invited me and Jenny round. He’s a good bloke.”
“Yes, he is.” I smiled, relaxed and spent a lovely afternoon in the company of my son.
A couple of weeks later, another significant milestone
was
reached when I had my last dose of chemo.
Sam took me to the hospital and stayed with me while the noxious mixture dripped into my vein.
Wendy was very upbeat. “Last time,” she said, smiling at Sam and me as she hooked me up.
I know I should have been pleased it was the final shot. But I wasn’t. I was in turmoil. For one thing, I could hear witch-bitch cackling in anticipation. I was frightened
bythis
major disarmament. She’d be there in a flash, spreading her malignancy round my body. How would I fight her then? These toxic chemicals were the bullets for Ripley’s guns and Wendy was stealing away my ammo. It felt like I was losing control. I considered begging Wendy to let me have another six months treatment.
Then there was Tom – I suspected he’d see the passing of my last chemo as the end of my need to be away. I was unnerved to realise, I’d probably agree with him. Contemplating going back to Tom - I felt like I had when I was at the top of the Nemesis ride at Alton Towers – both wanting and dreading at the same time.
“So how do you feel, Rosie?
About stopping.”
Wendy’s voice broke in on my thoughts.
“Oh, I’m glad, of course,” I lied. “But I must admit I’m a bit scared of stopping.” Oh, the understatement. “Does that sound daft?”
“No, not at all, it’s a very common response actually. Patients often feel it’s like they’ve stopped fighting when they stop getting this stuff. Let’s just hope it’s done its job.”
“Oh, yes, don’t get me wrong, I’m not up for getting more.” Liar! “It’s just
- it
feels like letting your guard down.”
“Well the fight’s not over yet, but you get a bit of a break now - before radiotherapy. You’ll be seeing Dr Knox soon, to find out if the chemo’s been effective. And - just think – your hair will start to grow back now.”
Wendy made sure I was comfortable and then left us while the potion made its journey from bag to bloodstream. Sam had brought a couple of gossip magazines with her and, for a while, she distracted me by reading aloud from them. We shared a laugh at some of the crazier stories and I realised how much I was going to miss her.
Soon she’d be going away to university and we were trying to spend as much time together as we could. Tom was going to be running her to St Andrews and, as she drove me home, she broached the subject of me going along too.
“I don’t know, Sam. What if I feel sick?”
“
It’s
two weeks away Mum – you’ll have stopped being sick. And this is a big occasion – your number one child going off to uni – you can’t miss that.”
“You’ve been thinking about this, haven’t you?” I said smiling.
“Yes I have – please, Mum. Dad would like it too, if you came.”
“Would he, now? You’ve asked him then?”
“Yes, but he said you wouldn’t come. Prove him wrong, Mum – go on.”
I didn’t need much persuading – not after my realisation in the chemo ward earlier. And, like I’d said to Adam, I was missing Tom. I was probably as ready as I’d ever be to listen to what Tom had to tell me. The time had come to try to rebuild my life – our lives.
“Okay, I’ll come,” I said, and I found I was laughing.
I phoned Tom that evening and told him I’d be going to St Andrews with them.
“You’re coming - in the car - with Sam and me?” he asked.
I laughed. “Yes, that’s the plan. Sam said she’d asked you.”
“Yes – she did - but I didn’t think you’d agree. Not if it meant being with me.”
“I think I’ll cope. Maybe we can have a bit of a talk on the journey back.” There was silence at the other end. “Tom, Tom,
are
you still there?”
“Yes.” He cleared his throat. “I’m still here. Right, it’s a date then. I’ll call you nearer the day and we can fix up a time to collect you on our way north.”
Over the following few days I was hardly sick at all, and even the nausea disappeared. By the end of the week I was feeling quite well.
Robbie called in to see me on the Friday. Over lunch he told me that Adam had been to visit him on several more occasions. “My dad and
him
seem to have bonded over engines, which is fine by me – it takes the pressure of me having to pretend to be fascinated by pistons and carburettors.”
I smiled. “Adam certainly won’t have to fake an interest.”
“Adam also seems to have bonded with my sister, Julie, and I don’t think their mutual interest in motors is the only attraction.” Robbie raised his eyebrows and grinned.
“Oh, really – bonding as in
- ”
“Yes, as in
- ”
He laughed and put both hands over his heart and fluttered his eyelashes.
This was the first I knew of Adam being interested in a girl. He certainly was changing. When Robbie was leaving, he said he was going to meet Eilidh in town for a little while before going back to work.
“So you and Eilidh are still bonded then?” I said.
Robbie nodded. “She says she needs a break from her mum, who’s in love apparently, and is driving Eilidh up the wall.”
“Pardon?”
I said. “In love – Kirsty’s in love? She hasn’t said anything to me. Who with – who’s she in love with?”
“Oh, you better ask her that yourself.” And off he went, leaving me amazed and very curious.
That afternoon, Sam and I went shopping in Princes Street for clothes and other bits and pieces that she’d need for starting university. It was several months since I’d been on an outing like this. I felt liberated and we had a good, girlie afternoon together.
I had mixed feelings about Sam leaving home. It felt more final than when she went to Australia. My first child was grown up and it made me feel old and a little sad. But I was happy for her too and quite envious of all she had to look forward to.