Mother’s Ruin (11 page)
Christmas wasn’t the same without Arthur, but Sally tried to make it a happy one for Angel. She was still missing her daddy, but it was worse for Arthur in isolation with only a half an hour visit from Sally every day. He still wasn’t responding to the treatment, and doped up with pain medication, he wasn’t very communicative.
They were into the January of the new year when Sally opened the door to a surprise visitor. ‘Ann!’ she cried, seeing Arthur’s sister. ‘How lovely to see you.’
‘I’m at Mum’s for the weekend, and, bless her, she offered to look after the kids while I came to see you.’
‘Come on in,’ Sally invited.
‘I wish I could see Arthur, but Mum said he’s still in isolation.’
‘Yes, I’m afraid so.’
‘Isn’t there any sign of improvement?’
‘Not really, but hopefully there will be soon.’
They walked into the kitchen then, Ann saying, ‘Hello everyone, and Angela, how about giving your auntie a cuddle?’
Angel hesitated for a moment, but then ran up to Ann. ‘Where are them boys?’
‘If you mean your cousins, Darren and Jason, they’re with your Nanna Elsie.’
‘But I want to see them.’
‘You will, darling. Your granddad is coming to pick me up at two o’clock and you’re coming back to Wimbledon with us for a little tea party.’
‘Am I? Oh goody.’
‘You don’t mind do you, Sally?’
‘No, of course not.’
‘I think Mum would like her to stay overnight too. What do you think?’
‘It’s fine with me,’ Sally said, sadly remembering the last time that Angel had stayed over with Elsie. She and Arthur had spent nearly all night making love. That seemed such a long time ago now.
Ruth smiled at Ann. ‘It’s nice to see you, why don’t you and Sally go out on your own for a while?’
‘Mum, thanks,’ Sally said, touched by her mother’s thoughtfulness.
‘You could take Ann to see your flat.’
‘I want to go too,’ Angel said.
‘But I’m making cakes and I need you to help me.’
Angel looked perplexed for a moment, but then said, ‘Can we put icing on the top?’
‘Yeah, I suppose so.’
‘All right, Nanny, I’ll stay with you.’
‘Thank goodness for that. I couldn’t manage without you,’ Ruth said, with a sly wink at Sally.
Taking the cue, they left quickly, and as they walked Ann hooked her arm through Sally’s. ‘It seems strange to be out with no kids in tow. It reminds me of our teenage years.’
‘Yes, it does, days when we were young, free and single.’
‘I don’t regret getting married and having kids, but sometimes I’m so worn out I feel old before my time.’
‘I envy you having three. I’d love another baby.’
‘It’s sure to happen one day, but you might regret it if you have twins like me,’ Ann said, going on to describe some of the boys’ antics. When they turned into Maple Terrace the subject changed. ‘Sally, I’d forgotten what a nice street this is.’
‘Unlike nearly everything else around Candle Lane, at least it isn’t scheduled for redevelopment,’ Sally said, and reaching the flat she opened the front door with a flourish.
‘It’s lovely in here,’ Ann enthused.
‘I’ll light the gas fire. Blast, I haven’t got any matches. Hang on, I’ll give Patsy a knock.’
‘Who’s Patsy?’
‘She lives upstairs. I won’t be a mo,’ Sally said, hurrying out, hoping she was in.
There were footsteps, and as she opened the door Patsy smiled with delight. ‘Hello, come on up,’ she said, gesturing Sally inside.
‘Sorry, I can’t. I’ve just brought my sister-in-law round to see my flat, but I couldn’t light the fire. Could you possibly lend me some matches?’
‘Yes, but even then your flat will take a while to warm up. Why not come up to my place instead and it’ll give me a chance to show you what I’ve done with it?’
‘Well . . . maybe just for a little while,’ Sally said, hoping that Ann wouldn’t mind.
She didn’t, and after a quick look around Sally’s flat, they hurried up to Patsy’s. It was a complete contrast to Sally’s, all vibrant colours and modern furniture. The suite was made of black vinyl and scattered with bright orange, shaggy fur cushions and the wallpaper was predominately orange too. The psychedelic, swirling pattern made Sally’s eyes swim, but Ann was enthusiastic. ‘Oh,’ she said, ‘I love this.’
‘Please, sit down,’ Patsy invited, her coal-effect fire welcoming after the coldness downstairs.
Patsy made them coffee in glass cups, and while at first conversation was a bit stilted, gradually the ice broke, especially when Ann found out that Patsy was a mobile hairdresser.
‘Before I got married I did hairdressing,’ Ann told her, ‘and when my children are older I’d like to go back to it. Going mobile sounds ideal, but I must admit, I’m a bit out of practice.’
‘I mostly get elderly, housebound clients so I don’t get the chance to keep up with modern styles. I can’t see my old ladies wanting a Vidal Sassoon cut,’ Patsy said, laughing at the thought.
‘I just love his geometric five point cut,’ Ann enthused. While they were talking, Sally took in Patsy’s striking outfit. She was wearing a black, polo neck sweater, under a black and white check, mini-pinafore dress. She looked great.
As though becoming aware of Sally’s scrutiny Patsy looked down at her legs, exclaiming, ‘Oh, no, I’ve got a ladder in my tights.’
‘Are they comfortable?’ Sally asked.
‘Yes, and with miniskirts at least you don’t show your stocking tops when you sit down,’ Patsy replied before abruptly changing the subject. ‘How’s your husband, Sally? Is he still in hospital?’
‘He developed an infection in his wound, though I’m hoping he’ll be better soon.’
‘That’s good. I’m looking forward to you moving in downstairs.’
‘You might regret it when my brother starts playing his records,’ Ann warned. ‘He prefers Frank Sinatra to any of the modern stuff.’
‘It won’t bother me, but tell me, Ann, do you live around here?’
‘Not now. I used to, but when I got married we moved out of London. Anyway, back to hairdressing. Tell me, how did you build up your clients?’
‘It was easy really. I just put an ad in a local newspaper and cards in newsagent shop windows.’
Sally could see that Ann was impressed, but with three young children it would be some time before she could follow Patsy’s lead. While they continued to chat, Sally’s eyes roamed the room, and seeing a photograph of a child on the long, low, sideboard, she wondered who it was.
‘I can’t wait to see your little girl,’ Patsy said, drawing Sally’s attention back to her.
‘You may not say that when you meet her. Angel can be a proper little madam.’
‘Take no notice of Sally,’ Ann protested. ‘Her daughter is adorable.’
‘Angel. What a lovely name.’
‘It’s Angela really,’ and plucking up the courage Sally added, ‘I see you have a photograph of a little girl on your sideboard.’
‘Yes, that’s right,’ she said, offering nothing further.
‘Are you married, Patsy?’ asked Ann.
‘I was, but not any more.’
‘I’m so sorry. You’re so young to be a widow.’
‘He isn’t dead. We’re divorced.’
Sally felt that Ann was asking too many questions, and said, ‘Thanks for the coffee, Patsy, and I just love these cups.’
It was no good. Ann had risen to her feet and was now studying the photograph. ‘She looks just like you, Patsy. Is she your daughter?’
‘Yes.’ The answer abrupt.
‘She’s lovely, but where is she?’
‘Look, I don’t usually talk about it, but if you must know she lives with her father.’
‘Goodness. That must be hard for you.’
There was a small pause and then Patsy said, ‘It was the court’s decision.’
‘They awarded custody to your husband! But why?’
‘Ann,’ Sally warned, ‘this is none of our business.’
‘It’s all right,’ Patsy said. ‘You might as well hear the rest. You see I married young and quickly became pregnant, but soon found out it was a mistake. I met and fell in love with another man, but when he refused to take on my daughter, I had to leave without her. Yes, I can see you’re shocked, and no doubt you’ll be pleased to know that I got my come-uppance. He left me two years later and my husband wouldn’t take me back. I had abandoned him and my child, hence he got custody.’
Both Sally and Ann were left speechless. Patsy then said, ‘Now you can see why I usually don’t talk about it. By the look on your faces I can see that you’re both judging me and no doubt find me wanting.’
‘No, no, of course not,’ Sally said, but it did little to ease the atmosphere.
‘I’m sorry for quizzing you, Patsy,’ said Ann.
‘Let’s just forget it,’ she said, ‘but instead of going back to hairdressing you could consider becoming a copper. You’d be good at extracting confessions.’
Ann smiled hesitantly, but as Patsy laughed at her own wit, both she and Sally joined in. The tension in the room melted away and soon they were all chatting freely again, until Sally said, ‘I’m sorry, Ann, but we’d best get back to Candle Lane. I want to dress Angel up a bit if she’s going back to your mum’s, and then get ready to see Arthur.’
They said their goodbyes, but as they walked home Sally found Ann quiet. ‘What’s up?’
‘I’m not sure about Patsy. She seemed nice enough at first, but then she told us about abandoning her little girl.’
‘I admit I was shocked, but we don’t know what it’s like to be stuck in a loveless marriage. She must have been really desperate to have run off like that.’
‘Maybe, but think about it, Sally. Can you imagine abandoning Angel?’
‘No, I can’t, but maybe there’s more to Patsy’s story.’
‘Yeah, maybe,’ Ann said doubtfully.
‘Come on, enough about Patsy. I want to pick your brains about what to get your dad for his birthday next week.’
‘Blimey, search me. I haven’t got a clue and had enough of a problem finding him something for Christmas.’
‘What about cuff-links?’
‘They’d do, but it’s a shame that Mum cancelled his party. She said with Arthur still in hospital it wouldn’t be the same without him.’
‘I know. I feel the same.’
When they arrived home it was to find Angel covered in flour. It was daubed on her face and showing starkly white in her red hair. She excitedly pointed at the fairy cakes. ‘Look, Mummy, I made them, and Nanny said I can take some for Darren and Jason.’
Angel looked thrilled, and smiling, Sally lifted her from the chair. ‘I’m sure they’ll love them, but come on, let’s get you cleaned up and changed for when your granddad arrives. I won’t be long, Ann.’
‘There’s no hurry, I’ll be fine with your mum and Sadie.’
Sally nodded, but with one foot on the stairs she felt it again, that awful feeling of apprehension. Her stomach did a somersault, but then seeing that Angel was looking at her worriedly, she managed to force a smile. It was all in her imagination, that was all.
It had to be.
It was towards the end of the month that Sadie’s prediction came true, Arthur the first to find out when the surgeon came to see him. He was told that despite the aggressive treatment he’d been receiving, he had now developed another infection, one called osteomyelitis.
‘What’s that?’ he asked.
‘In layman’s terms it’s a disease of the bone marrow and it’s preventing your fracture from healing. I’m sorry, young man, but we now have two alternatives, the first being a sequestrotomy.’
‘A what?’
‘To put it simply again, we’d cut away the dying bone and hope then that the wound will heal, but as the gangrene hasn’t been brought under control I can’t guarantee success. If it doesn’t work it will mean another operation, again with no guarantee of success, and even if successful, you’d be left with one leg considerably shorter than the other. It would mean wearing a surgical boot for the rest of your life.’
‘What’s the other option?’
‘I don’t want to risk the infection spreading above the knee and to prevent that happening I would recommend amputating your leg now, while the infection is still below the joint.’
Arthur’s stomach flipped and feeling nauseous at the thought he managed to gasp, ‘I don’t fancy that.’
The surgeon ignored his comment. ‘A below the knee amputation is easier to adapt to, and once you’re fitted with a prosthetic you would soon learn to walk again.’
‘I still don’t like the thought of losing my leg,’ Arthur protested as his mind railed against the surgeon’s words. Why is this happening to me, he thought as self-pity engulfed him.
‘I’ll let you think about it,’ the surgeon said, leaving Arthur alone in the room.
With his forearm flung across his eyes, and for the first time in many, many years, Arthur gave way to tears.
Sally had arrived at the hospital earlier than usual to see Arthur, but as she walked to his room an awful feeling engulfed her. Something was wrong. She began to run, only just remembering to get a mask before going into his room.
Arthur looked at her, his eyes red. His attempt at a brave smile didn’t fool Sally. ‘What is it? What’s wrong?’
‘I . . . I’ve just agreed to have my lower leg amputated.’
‘Oh, Arthur,’ she said, rushing forward and forgetting the rules she grasped his hand.
The pretence dropped and Arthur said in a choked voice, ‘With only one leg, I’ll be a burden, less than a man.’
Sally fought for words. ‘Don’t be silly. Think about Douglas Bader, he lost both his legs during the war, but still managed to fly a plane.’
Arthur was silent, his expression morose and Sally didn’t know how to comfort him. ‘I . . . I’m so sorry, darling, but don’t worry, we’ll get through this.’
‘We! Don’t you mean me? I’m the one who is going to be a cripple,’ he said, almost shouting, but then his expression changed. ‘I’m sorry, Sal, I shouldn’t take it out on you, but I’m having the operation in the morning and my guts are churning.’
‘Tomorrow! That soon!’
‘The surgeon wants to do it before the infections spread any further.’
Sally blinked rapidly. Arthur needed her support, not her tears. She continued to do her best to comfort him, but she felt useless, the fear in Arthur’s eyes apparent when she had to leave. ‘I’ll be here in the morning,’ she said, ‘and no doubt when I ring your parents to tell them, they’ll be here too.’
With a heavy heart Sally left the hospital, and unable to face waiting for a bus she waved down a taxi. Tears were close to the surface, waiting to spill, and she arrived home to find her mother and gran watching the television. They were barely aware that she was there until Sally cried, ‘Mum, Arthur has got to have his leg amputated.’
‘What? Blimey, love, that’s awful.’
‘It’s rotten luck, but I warned you this would happen,’ Sadie pointed out.
‘I’m scared, Gran, he’s in an awful state and I don’t know how he’ll cope.’
‘Now you listen to me, my girl. Arthur is a strong man, just like his father, and once he comes to terms with this he’ll be fine.’
Sally tried to draw strength from her gran’s words, and wiping tears from her cheeks she said, ‘I’ll ring Elsie.’
It was extremely hard to pass on the news. Elsie burst into tears and then Bert came to the phone, his voice cracking when he said they’d see her at the hospital in the morning.
The rest of the evening passed, but unable to stop thinking about Arthur, Sally found her head aching when she went upstairs to bed.
Where are you?
she begged inwardly as her eyes roamed the room. Oh, she wished her friend would come, the lovely angelic presence who brought her such comfort. No, she was being selfish. Arthur must be going out of his mind and more in need of comfort than her.
Go to him, please go to him,
she begged, and as Sally whispered these word, her worry suddenly eased.
* * *
Arthur too was lying awake, his stomach churning. He tried to picture what it would be like with half a leg, but his mind shied away from the image. He felt that he’d been talked into having it done – that maybe he should have opted for that request . . . whatever the word was.
‘Can’t you sleep?’ his night nurse asked, as she came into the room.
‘I can’t stop thinking about having my leg off tomorrow.’
‘The surgeon said it’s the right course of action and he’s one of the best in the country. Here, take these, it’ll help you to sleep.’
‘Thanks,’ Arthur managed to murmur before swallowing the pills.
The nurse left the room and now laying in darkness, Arthur was still in despair. Soon though a strange feeling began to engulf him, a feeling of being cocooned, enfolded, as though in some- one’s arms. It must be those pills, he thought as a profound feeling of peace washed over him.
Arthur closed his eyes, at last able to sleep.