Cinnamon Twigs (29 page)

             
Filming could be tough but good fun at the same time. Some of the acts were incredible. I’ll never forget the two-man band,
The Know
. They were at the top of their game at the time. Their music could only be described as psychedelic rock. They spent most of filming in the bog doing drugs. I’ve never met two quirkier guys than Steve Christian and Derren Evans, but they were a pain in the arse to direct. When they weren’t doing drugs, they were shagging fans in their trailers. On one occasion, Derren couldn’t do any filming because he’d overdosed on
Viagra
and had a nob like a baseball bat.

             
‘I’ll end up poking the leading lady’s eye out at this rate!’ he screamed. ‘I need to get back in the shower. It’s fucking killing me. Hey, Steve, roll us up another joint would ya?’

             
The press got hold of all sorts of stories from the set. Most of the cast were used to living excessively. The picture became a documentary on the music industry. I didn’t need a script when it came to guys like Steve and Derren. In one part of the film, Steve runs out of his trailer and announces that he’d reached up a fan’s skirt and found a pair of bollocks. That really happened. He had the shock of his life. I asked members of the crew to walk around the set with handheld cameras so I didn’t miss anything worth putting into the final cut.

             
Cinema audiences will always remember the footage, the tears and roars of excitement. How could anyone forget the impact that performers like Alice Hope and David Simpson had on stage? I know I’ll never forget the unintentionally comic moment when
The Know
did their set.

             
Steve jumped into the crowd, while security did their best to drag him back onto the stage. Meanwhile, Derren tripped over an audio wire and accidentally threw his microphone at an unsuspecting girl in the front row - she received a nasty bump on her cranium. The band was forced off the stage at the end of the catastrophic performance.

             
‘I’ve never felt a buzz like that,’ Steve said backstage.

             
‘I’m pretty sure there was more than just adrenaline involved.’ I frowned.

             
I was relieved when filming wrapped. I’d had so much fun, but the production left me exhausted.

             
The picture busted all sorts of records and became a huge smash. Audiences loved it. Nothing could have prepared me for its reception. I mean, to this day, it’s still regarded as a cult classic.

             
I was nominated for an Oscar in the
Best Actor
category. I remembered when I was younger and I’d sworn to my mother that one day I’d win an Oscar. I wanted to win it for her. It was an honor to be nominated. I’d come so far in my career.

             
To celebrate my nomination, I organized a big Hawaiian themed party in Cardiff. I dressed in a bright pink Hawaiian shirt and hula necklace, while Lauren wore a grass skirt and a coconut bra. But my bodyguard Jonathon, clad in a dazzling orange shirt and a pink luau skirt, definitely had the loudest attire. He looked so awkward, like a professional wrestler in drag.

             
My mother couldn’t attend the party because she’d felt ropey over the previous two weeks. I received a message at eleven o’clock in the night, telling me she’d been rushed to hospital. She’d collapsed on her way to the local supermarket. I’d told her to stay in bed and call if she wanted me to send someone to get her groceries. Photographers scrambled to get shots of me in a stunning pink shirt as I left the party.

             
I was conscious of people raising their eyebrows as I stumbled through the hospital entrance. I’d been drinking champagne all day.

             
I’m wearing a bright pink Hawaiian shirt and a hula necklace, plus I’m struggling to walk straight
, I thought to myself.

Fair enough, I looked
like a tit. But I didn’t care at that moment. The scent of disinfectant burned my nostrils and the persecutory white lights in the corridors hurt my eyes.

             
The nurse told me my mother’s blood pressure had gone down to her boots. The doctors believed she was having serious problems with her circulation.

             
I entered her room. She slept, a silhouetted form under a woolen blanket. I didn’t wake her. The first movement of Beethoven’s
Moonlight Sonata
played from an old radio in another room.

             
‘This is the quietest she’s been since she got here,’ the nurse interrupted the gentle melody.

             
I smiled.

             
‘She’s quite a character. The other nurse is only a young girl and she’s frightened to come in here!’ She giggled.

             
‘So when do you think you’ll know what’s wrong with her exactly?’ I kept my eyes on my mother’s still form.

             
‘Within twenty-four hours, I imagine. We’ll do some tests and see how she is.’

             
‘Right.’

             
‘Hopefully she’ll be okay.’ The nurse touched my shoulder. ‘Nice shirt by the way.’

             
‘Yeah, I think so too,’ I muttered, lost in thought.              

She
looked so out of place in that hospital bed. I sat beside her. I couldn’t believe how pale and feeble she’d grown, her hand in mine, her breathing heavy and erratic. I hoped she would be okay. I couldn’t imagine life without her.

             
Those memories, they’re painful. It had come so unexpectedly. Children think their parents are invincible. Even as adults, we find it hard to believe our mothers and fathers can pass away. They’re supposed to be the idols of childhood, the supreme superheroes. My mother had always been a major figure in my life. I couldn’t imagine her dying, couldn’t imagine her not being there for me. Death is eternal. The dead are lost, forever. And forever is a long time.

CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

Fierce Tears

My mother
propped herself up in the hospital bed. I’d never seen her like that before. She’d lost so much weight in so little time. Her face was skull-like, skin dry and tight. Her eyes had sunk into their sockets.

             
‘I’ve been waiting for you,’ she croaked.

             
‘How are you feeling?’ I asked.

             
‘Um, not good.’

             
My eyes burned. But no, I had to be strong. I took a seat next to the bed and held her feeble hand.

             
‘You need to eat more,’ I said. ‘You’re looking thin.’

             
‘Yeah, it doesn’t suit me, does it?’ She broke into a self-deprecating cough. ‘But there’s no point in eating, Daniel. I’m just delaying the denouement, as you literature types would say.’

             
‘You’ve been reading my articles… But what do you mean, mum?’

             
‘My heart is ruined. I’m rotting inside. I’m drowning. I’m just a talking corpse at the moment, and you know it.’

             
‘Please, don’t speak like that!’

             
‘I always knew it. Always suspected I had heart problems. But NO, nobody believed me!’ Triumph blazed in her eyes.

             
‘You suspected everything. You always thought you were a walking plague!’ I chuckled, still trying to suppress tears.

             
‘I’ve been thinking a lot in here.’

             
‘About what?’

             
‘About life and death. That’s all there is to think about. It all seems so futile. It goes so quickly.’

             
I kissed her hand.

             
‘You know I’ve always loved you?’ She searched my eyes.

             
‘C’mon, that’s the sort of question someone who’s going to lose would ask.’

             
‘I’ve lost. Jackie Mace is finally gonna be silenced.’

             
‘Yes. I know you’ve always loved me.’

             
‘Life has been hard at times.’ She closed her eyes for a moment, before continuing: ‘When I was a child I had nothing. But, despite those hard times, I always knew the importance of family.’

             
I nodded and kissed her hand again.

             
‘Your grandmother and me, we never really got on together. I thought she was an embarrassment. She was so strange. And she obsessed over the tiniest things. She never approved of the decisions I made.’

             
‘Hmm, I can understand that.’ I smiled faintly.

             
‘And your grandfather used to get violent whenever he had a drink. I remember one night he came home early and made my mother bring his dinner into the living room. She’d cooked mashed potato and peas. One of the peas dropped onto the carpet. He told her to pick it up and eat it. There was carpet fuzz all over that pea. She put it in her mouth and spat it out. He beat her so badly that her friends couldn’t recognize her face for weeks. That was the sort of childhood I had.’

             
‘I’ve always known you had a difficult childhood,’ I said. ‘You’ve often reminded me.’

             
‘I know I’ve made life a struggle for you at times. Like your grandmother, I’ve probably been a bit obsessive. I stopped hating your grandmother when I realized I’d become her. I’ve always wanted what’s best for you. I wanted you to be rich and successful.’

             
‘I’m successful because of you!’ I squeezed her hand. ‘You pushed me. You’ve always been a driving force in my life. You gave me everything.’

             
‘I knew you were a good actor, Dan. I was just concerned, because it was such a difficult business to progress in.’

             
My mother placed her hand on my cheek and smiled at me. A weak, affectionate smile. I wasn’t used to seeing her like that, hearing her talk in that way. But she didn’t look depressed. Triumph continued to blaze in her eyes as she gazed at me. Triumph and pride.

             
‘I did a good job,’ she said. ‘I raised you well. Maybe I was strict at times…’

             
‘You always had the fastest slipper in the West!’ I laughed.

             
‘But look at you. Look at what you’ve become. I’m really
proud
of you.’

             
Those words meant so much to me.

             
‘Be strong. Don’t ever let things get you down. Sometimes, I get depressed. But it’s not worth it. I’m happier now than I’ve ever been.’

             
‘Oh, mum! I can’t imagine life without you. I can’t live in a world where you’re not breathing…’

             
‘I was never a devout Catholic. But I’ve always believed in a heaven. And I believe that heaven has no time. I won’t have to wait to see you again. But I need you to be strong.’

             
‘How can you be sure that heaven exists?’ My voice rang with despair.

             
‘I’m not sure. But we have to believe in
something
. I’m gonna see so many people up there. I’ll get to see your grandmother and grandfather. And if your father ever joins me I’ll rip his bollocks off!’ Her face contorted in pain as she shifted in her bed of thorns. Fierce tears poured from her eyes.

             
The blanket had slipped away, revealing her bare legs and the scars she’d claimed came from wearing Wellington boots throughout her childhood.

             
‘Tuck your feet back in,’ I whispered. ‘You don’t want to get cold.’

             
‘Don’t you mother
me
!’ Her eyes were suddenly ablaze, color flashing across her cadaverous face. But then she smiled weakly and the lusty red faded to grey again.

             
‘I’m afraid I’m the one in charge now.’

             
‘That’s when you know you’ve become weak, when your children start looking after you.’

             
‘It’s the cycle of life.’

             
‘I didn’t look after my mother when she was ill. I regret that. They died, mum and dad, and I wasn’t there for either of them. I wanna go home,’ she whispered.

             
‘You can’t, you know that. You’re not well enough to leave. And you must stop threatening the younger nurse. She doesn’t have the authority to let you go home.’