Forever Is Over

Forever Is Over

     
Calvin Wade

Jemma - The Beginning Of The End

I really wanted him to open the door but he wouldn
’
t. Perhaps he
smelt a rat, I
’
m not sure. Perhaps he recognised some of the cars outside
,
I
’
d told them to park down the road and walk up, but it was a wet and
windy night and some women would rather spoil the surprise than spoil the hair they have just spent hours putting into place.

“
Go through
”
, I said to him, trying to coax him in.

“
Can you not open a door?
”
he asked, in a tone that implied he may
have clocked my unusual behaviour. I wa
s not in the habit of standing
on ceremony! Anyway, Richie was having none of it, so I made a grab
for him, whilst simultaneously trying to push open the double doors.

As I opened the doors, I was greeted by about a hundred of Richie
’
s
nearest and dearest, party poppers at the ready, for when his frail but
smiling face emerged. The DJ, sensing his moment had come, pressed
play and the room was filled with Elbow
’
s
“
One Day Like This
”
. It was
no good though, multi-tasking had never been one of my strong points
and as I pushed the door open, Richie had wriggled his skeletal frame
out of my grasp and somehow managed to summon enough strength
to run as fast as his legs could carry him, out the exit and back towards
the car.

“
Just give me two minutes
”
, I explained apologetically to the anxious
crowd, as I turned on my heels to go after him. Richie
’
s Mum, Dot,
made a move to the door too, but I wasn
’
t waiting and shot off after him
in a Shaggy & Scooby styled run.

Back in his healthier days, Richie would have reached the car in a
flash, but once I was outside, I knew he was not going to escape me, as
his run had become a determined stride,
still oblivious to the howling
winds and rain that only Gene Kelly would want to be out in.

“
Richie, what are you playing at? Everyone
’
s here for you?
”

I loved every single pore on that man
’
s skin, every ounce of flesh,
every strand of hair, every eyelash, every tooth, every finger, every toe,
but he was as stubborn as a mule when he wanted to be.

“
I
’
m not going back in there
”
.

“
Yes, you are.
”
I replied without sympathy.

“
Jemma, I
’
m not
”
.

Richie
’
s Mum was outside by now, but thankfully, for once, she
kept her distance.

“
Richie, people have travelled a long way to get here. They
’
ve
arranged babysitters, booked hotels, bought dresses, had their hair done,
your Helen, even looks like she
’
s had a boob job especially
”
.

Richie didn
’
t laugh. Sometimes when he was trying not to laugh,
you could see the sides of his mouth curling upwards, this was not one
of those times.

“
Jemma, I can
’
t do it. I wish I could, but I can
’
t
”
.

“
Yes, you can
”
.

Tears started to well up in his eyes.

“
I can
’
t face it, Jemma. I can
’
t face a Pity Party.
”

“
Come on Richie, once you get inside you
’
ll enjoy it. You know you
will.
”

“
Jemma, these people are here because I
’
m dying
”
.

“
They are here because they love you.
”

“
No, they are here because I
’
m dying. What am I supposed to talk
to them about? Where are you going for your summer hols, Dogger?
Majorca, great. I
’
m going to the crematorium, its going to be bloody roasting, but don
’
t worry, I don
’
t really feel the heat or at least I won
’
t
when I
’
m dead!
”

I was going to rush in with a sentence that began with,
“
Stop being

so bloody stupid
…”
and then I was going to let my anger and annoyance

complete the sentence for me, but for some reason, I stopped to think.
Richie was dying, we all knew that. I desperately wanted him to see all
his family and friends, some of whom he hadn
’
t seen for years. I wanted
him to see them whilst he was still well enough to enjoy the night, but
I was not the one who
’
s life was slipping away. If it was too much for him, it was too much for him, I shouldn
’
t push it.

“
OK, Richie, just listen to me for a minute.
”

“
Jemma, I don
’
t want this
”
.

“
Richie, just listen. Don
’
t interrupt, just listen...
”

“
Shit!
“
I thought to myself.
“
SHIT!
”

I
’
m not one for swearing out loud, I very rarely swear, but, at that
very moment, my brain was turning the word
“
shit
”
over and over like
food on a barbeque. With good reason, I was wanting inspiration to
arrive like an express train, but it had
been delayed by leaves on the
line.

This was supposed to be my moment. Our moment. I wanted to say
something witty or brilliant. Something inspirational. Something that would make him see things in a totally different light. Problem was I
had nothing planned, no start, no middle and no ending. I
’
d just have to blag it. Here goes nothing.

“
Look Richie, your Mum and I arranged this for you. As you
know, only too well, I am from a weird family. I
’
ve had
“
stepdads
”
,
“
stepbrothers
”
,
“
stepsisters
”
,
“
stepcousins
”
, I
’
ve had more steps than a
John Buchan novel, but your family
’
s
different. From the moment we
met, I loved you, but I was always jealous of you. You had a proper
fami
ly. A Mum and Dad who adore you.
Your Mum is an interfering old
bat, but she
’
s prepared to stand outside in the pissing rain in the middle
of November for you. You
’
ve got a brother and two sisters, all from the
same Dad and you all get on. You
’
re like the bloody Waltons!

That
’
s not all. You
’
ve got friends who you
’
ve known since infant
school. People you would do anything for and would do anything for
you. I wish I didn
’
t have to say this, but these are friends you may never
get the opportunity to see again after tonight. Now, if you want to miss
out on an opportunity to see these people because you think they are
so tactless that they
’
ll talk about their summer holidays, then lets get
in the car and go home. But we both know the real reason they are
here. They
’
re here because they know you
’
re dying and it
’
s destroying
them like it
’
s destroying me. They are here because they want to have a
wonderful night with a wonderful man. Th
ey want to celebrate your life
with you and not at your funeral when they can
’
t hug you and kiss you
and tell you how much they love you. They
…
.
”

“
That
’
s enough, Jemma.
”

Richie took a tissue out his pocket. Blew his nose, wiped away a
tear and walked towards me. I wasn
’
t one hundred percent sure whether
he was going to slap me or hug me, but he wrapped those skinny little
arms around me and held me tightly.

“
I
’
m sorry, Jem. I want to be brave, I want to be positive, I want to
live every moment like it
’
s my last, but it all doesn
’
t seem real. Nights
like tonight, however well intentioned, just remind me of what lies
ahead. I remember being on Sales courses at work and you
’
d get these
really confident
“
life coaches
”
who would tell you to assess the problem,
then gauge its importance from one to ten, with ten being death. This
problem is a big, fat ten, Jemma. I
’
m dying. Our kids won
’
t have a father
next Christmas. I won
’
t see Jamie score his first goal and I won
’
t be there
to walk Melissa down the aisle on her wedding day. I so wanted to do
that. You won
’
t believe how much I wanted to do that
”
.

Richie broke down, sobbing and sobbing as all the fears and anxiety
that had been built up since the diagnosis came spilling out. Richie
’
s mother, Dot, a woman who would not normally go swimming for fear
of getting her hair wet, shuffled towards us like a rat that had been
drowned and revived several times over.

“
Everything alright, love?
”
she asked from just further than slapping
distance away, which is what half of me felt she deserved for asking such
a stupid question. The other half understood though that she needed to
be there for Richie and I managed to keep quiet, paving the way for a
response from her son.

“
Everything
’
s fine, Mum. Jemma
’
s just
persuaded me to go back in
and see everybody. You go and get yourself dried off, Uncle Billy would
have a field day if he saw you looking like that! Get yourself dried off
and we
’
ll follow you in, in a minute.
”

Dot gave her son a re-assuring smile and headed inside, looking
every single day of her sixty three years. She didn
’
t deserve a daughter-
in-law like me. She deserved better. She only ever saw the good in
people, especially Richie. I don
’
t believe all parents have a favourite
child, but Dot
’
s was definitely Richie and she was losing him. I
’
m sure
people learn to live with loss, but I knew in those moments neither Dot
nor I would ever learn to live with the loss of Richie. Intertwined and emotionally battered, Richie and I went inside and
the party began.