Never Let Go (Take My Hand) (10 page)

BOOK: Never Let Go (Take My Hand)
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Chapter
Twelve

Dexter

 

Today
is the first day Emily hasn’t cried
since she found out about Chris’ tumor. She cleared the diary for this morning
so I could go to the hospital while Chris got his second dose of chemo, then I
spent the afternoon servicing a Fiat Panda that should’ve been scrapped years
ago. Usually when I get home from work her eyes are red and swollen, but today…
today she smiled at me. It was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.

“Hey, I got a text from Marianne today. Patricia’s bringing
her over for a couple of weeks in the summer.”

“That’s great!” Emily beamed, seeming genuinely happy. “It
will do you guys good to get to know each other properly.”

“Yeah. I’m kinda excited to see her again. She’s totally set
on getting a tattoo when she turns eighteen. Don’t think it’s going down too
well with her mom.”

“Well she’s got a few years before she needs to worry about
it,” Emily said, giggling softly. “But maybe keep her away from Rachel. She’ll
only fuel the fire.”

I nodded in agreement. Snickers would totally tell her never
to let anyone stop her being who she wants to be. I guess I kinda agree with
her too. Life’s too short to waste it trying to please other people.

“Chris upstairs?” I asked. He looked particularly wiped out
after this morning’s session.

“Yeah. I heard him being sick a few minutes ago but I don’t
want to check on him in case he thinks I’m fussing.”

“You love him, doll. Caring is different than fussing.”
Emily shrugged nervously and I caressed the side of her cheek with my palm and
planted a soft kiss on the tip of her nose. “You want me to go check on him?”

“Would you mind?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. Of course I don’t.” I gave her a wink
and slap on the ass that made her squeal, before grabbing a bottle of water
from the refrigerator and heading upstairs.

 

“You okay, man?” I asked, walking into the bathroom. The
door was ajar when I reached the top of the stairs and I saw Chris leaning
against the sink, staring into the mirror and running a hand through his hair.
“Brought you some water.”

“Thanks,” he muttered with a forced smile. I eyed up the
mirror, wondering what was keeping his attention – then he brought his
hand down from his head, bringing a clump of hair with it.

Shit.

“Guess it’s time to take it all off, eh?” he said, dropping
the handful of red hair into the basin before reaching back up and pulling free
another tuft. “Will you fetch my clippers from the bedroom? They’re in the top
drawer.”

“You sure you’re ready for this?”

“No, mate, I’m not. But I don’t really have a choice.”

Nodding while trying to suppress the heavy sigh that wanted
to escape, I disappeared to grab his clippers, removed the guard and handed
them to him.

“You know,” Chris began, sliding the switch into the ‘on’
position. “I never did like having red hair. At school I was known as the
ginger ninja.” He chuckled lightly at the memory. “But now it seems weird that
I’ll never see it again after today.”

I couldn’t think of a response that wouldn’t sound
desperately pathetic so I stayed quiet. My heart slithered into my stomach as I
watched him glide the clippers in a straight line from his forehead all the way
down to the nape of his neck. When he pulled it down to start the process
again, his hand trembled and his grip on the clippers loosened. I shot forward
and caught them before they hit the sink.

He was shaking and I didn’t know if it was the severity of
the situation or after effects of the chemo. Regardless, without saying a word
I brought the clippers up to his head and started sweeping it over his thinning
hair.

Chris’ eyes never left my hands in the mirror as I removed
every last trace of his hair, letting it drop onto the white tiled floor.

“Should I grab the polish?” I teased, rubbing a towel over
his scalp.

“I look pretty hot don’t you think?”

“Dude, if I wasn’t in love with your sister I totally
would.”

“Speaking of my sister, I don’t know how well she’s gonna
take this,” he said, sighing as he rubbed his hand over his head.

“She’ll be fine. I think she’s stronger than we give her
credit for.”

“Yeah,” he agreed. “Let’s go and test that theory. Nodding,
I patted Chris’ shoulder and turned for the door. “I’ll just sweep this hair up
and I’ll be down in a few minutes.”

“Sure, man. Take your time.”

**********

I didn’t tell Em about Chris’ hair – or lack of
– when I got downstairs. I wasn’t sure how to play it. I didn’t want to
make it into a big issue because I knew Chris wouldn’t want that. I also didn’t
want her to have time to worry over seeing it for the first time. I didn’t have
to wait too long anyway before the decision was taken out of my hands.

“Oh my God,” Emily gasped, clasping her hand over her mouth
when Chris entered the living room. I snaked my arm around her waist and her
small body trembled against me.

“Suits me, right?” Chris chirped, trying to lighten the
atmosphere. I studied Emily’s face intently and my heart sank when I noticed
tears hovering on the surface of her lower eyelids. But then she completely
amazed me – she sucked in a deep breath, plastered a smile on her face
and walked proudly over to her brother.

“Yeah,” she agreed, rubbing his head with her hand. “Very
handsome… for a bald guy.”

“Handsome? This isn’t the 1940’s, Emmie.”

“You’re my brother! What do you want me to say? Wow you’re totally
hot – take me now? Not going to happen. Handsome is all you’re getting
from me I’m afraid.”

“Good point well made. Look, Emmie, you mind if I steal Dex
for a couple of hours? His assessor is coming to the garage tomorrow and I want
to go over the clutch repair we have waiting – make sure he knows what
he’s doing.”

“Um… I’m right here?” I piped up with an exaggerated wave.

“Sorry, mate, but we both know Emmie’s the boss around
here.”

Yeah – there was no argument there. So, surrendering
my palms, I took a step backwards.

“Are you well enough for work? You had chemo just this
morning.”

“At this moment in time, I’m feeling fairly good so I want
to make the most of it. If it changes, I’ll come home I promise.”

“Okay,” Emily agreed. Then, after giving her a hug, Chris
went upstairs to get changed for the garage. “It makes it seem so much more real,”
she began once he was out of earshot. I didn’t need an explanation to know she
was talking about his hair. “It makes him
look
sick, if that makes sense. Makes me feel like it’s nearly time.”

“It’s just hair, doll. Doesn’t make a difference to what’s
going on inside his body. We have no reason to believe the chemo isn’t working,
and we’ll find out for sure next week.”

Chris is booked in for another MRI scan at The Christie
cancer hospital next Wednesday to see if his tumor has shrunk, or at least
slowed down a little. If there’s one thing I’m certain of, it’s that waiting
for the results is going to be an anxious time for us all.

“You’re right. I know you are. It’s just hard.”

“I know, doll,” I agreed, wrapping her in my arms. “I know.”

 

Chapter Thirteen

Emily

 

Dexter
and Chris had
been gone a couple of hours, so after giving the place a thorough tidy –
hoovering the entire downstairs and even pulling out the furniture to get
underneath – I settled down on the sofa with a hot chocolate and my
kindle. Talking to Rachel on the phone earlier she told me I absolutely HAD to
meet Lucien Knight, so after fluffing up a pillow and laying my head on it, I
tapped the screen and opened chapter one.

Then there was a knock at the door. Sod’s law right?

Huffing, I closed my kindle, stood up and padded to
the front door.

“Oh,” I said, stepping back in surprise. “Hi, Dad.”

“Hey, princess. Can I come in?”

“Sure,” I said, stepping aside and then closing the
door behind him once he’d walked past me. He was carrying a shoebox and after
making his way over to the coffee table, he set it down and then gave a nod
towards the sofa – silently asking if he could sit down. I nodded, and
then sat down myself on the edge of the armchair.

“I told Chris I’d drop these by the other day,” he
explained, pointing to the shoebox on the table.

“What is it?”

“It’s a box of your mum’s things.”

The weirdest part of this whole thing has been how easily
I’ve accepted that Jocelyn isn’t my mother. Even the fact I automatically refer
to her as Jocelyn now. I never slip up – never accidentally forget that
she isn’t my mum. It’s like I always knew there was
something
that stopped her having maternal feelings for me, and now
it all makes perfect sense.

“Can I look?” I asked, hovering my hand over the box.

“Of course. Chris wanted you to see them.”

Biting my bottom lip, I tentatively peeled off the
lid.

“Oh my God,” I choked out, plucking out a photograph.
“Is this her? Is this my mum?” I already knew the answer. There was no denying
I was looking at my mother – it was like looking in a mirror.

“Yes. Beautiful isn’t she?”

“Yes,” I agreed, feeling a little breathless.

“Now you see where you and your brother get that
vibrant hair from.”

I paid no attention to anything else in the
photograph. Just her. Just my mum. Her red hair,
my
red hair, was spilling over her shoulders in thick, bouncy
waves. She had the brightest blue eyes and an even brighter smile. She was
stunning.

“I feel like I miss her,” I admitted. “Is that crazy?
I mean I never even knew her.”

“You
did
know
her, princess. You grew inside her for nine months. You’re part of each other.”

“Why did you never tell me, Dad?” I asked solemnly,
regret swelling in my belly.

“I don’t know, princess. I couldn’t cope I suppose. I
couldn’t cope with losing Gemma and I sure as hell couldn’t cope raising two
kids by myself. I think I always planned to tell you when you were older, but
then we lost Olivia and…” My dad sighed and smothered his face with his hand.
“And I lost it. I gave up, princess. Life was just easier if I went to work,
brought home the money and played golf on Sundays. I wish I could tell you I
did it because I thought it was best for you. Truth is, it was best for
me
.”

“I feel like I want to hate you,” I confessed. If he
was being honest, it was only fair I was too. “But… I can’t.”

“I deserve that. And as I told Chris, if you told me
you never wanted to see me again I promise I would respect that. I’ve wasted so
much time already, and whether I deserve a second chance or not, it doesn’t
stop me hoping you’ll give me one. You’re my children and I don’t even know
you. I
want
to know you, princess.
Let me show you. Let me love you like a dad should.”

“I want that too. It’s all I’ve ever wanted,” I conceded.
“All my life I’ve tried to be good – tried to work hard… make you both
proud of me. I’ve never felt good enough for you.”

“God, Emily…” My dad stood from the sofa and in a move
I
never
could’ve anticipated, her
perched himself on the edge of my chair and wrapped his arms around me. My
heart fluttered and I let out a sigh as I moulded myself into his hold. I’m not
sure I’d ever hugged my dad before that moment, or if I had I don’t remember.
Growing up I always knew he loved me – it could be the way he smiled at
me or the way he’d pat the top of my head as I walked by. But even though I
knew he loved me… I always felt like I disappointed him somehow. “You have it
so wrong.
I
was the one who wasn’t good
enough. You were a beautiful, intelligent, adorable little girl. Foolishly, I
thought your mothe-
Jocelyn
, told you
as much every day.”

“She was so different when you were around. Always
strict of course, but… well at least she talked to me. When we were at one of
her charity things or she had friends round she wanted to impress, she was a
completely different woman. The perfect mother. But when we were alone, she was
so quick to tell me how much I disappointed her – how I never tried hard
enough, how I gave up on everything… how I killed Livvie.”

“You know that’s not true,” Dad butted in without a
second’s hesitation. “Tell me you know that’s not true? You were a baby
yourself, Emily. The only people to blame for not watching Olivia near that
water are me and Jocelyn.
We
were the
grown ups.
We
were responsible for
her. Yet we were too busy trying to impress the new neighbours to keep an eye
on our children.
Nothing
about that
day was your fault. It was… a tragic accident.”

“I don’t blame myself anymore. Or at least, I’m
learning not to. I did for a long time – my whole life. There’s a lot you
don’t know about me, Dad. A lot happened while I was away in America – a
lot of really heavy stuff that I’m kind of scared to tell you about. Yet somehow
the experience changed me for the better too. It made me stronger –
taught me to believe in myself. I met a therapist there who helped me through
so much – all the guilt, the pain… the confusion. I’m in a good place
now, Dad. Or I
was
, until Chris told
me about… you know.” I still struggle to say the word. The ‘C’ word. I shudder
at the mere thought of it.

“Do you want to tell me what happened in the States,
princess?”

“Yeah,” I nodded. “Yeah I think I do.”

**********

“Um… are we interrupting?” Dad and I snapped our necks
around towards the sound of Chris’ voice. He and Dexter were standing in the
doorway, covered in dirt and grease.

“No. Dad was just showing me some pictures of Mum. She
was so pretty.” Chris raised an eyebrow and I couldn’t tell if it was an expression
of shock, suspicion, or if he was impressed. Probably a little of all three.
“And have you seen these?” I asked, picking up a tiny turtle ornament.
“Apparently they were in Kinder Eggs when you were little. She used to collect
them to give you when you were older. There are dozens in here. You should set
them out in your room.”

“You can have them, Emmie.”

“She kept them for
you
,”
I countered.

“That was before she knew she was having you.
Ornaments are a girl’s thing. If she’d have still been around to give them to
me when I was older, I probably would’ve tried to pull the arms off or melt
them in the oven or something.”

“Um… turtles don’t have arms, Chris.”

“Whatever. Keep them. You’ll take better care of them
than I will.” It was in that moment his expression betrayed the words that came
out of his mouth. The way he looked at me so sadly, so intently… like he was
committing the image of my face to his memory – I knew what he really
meant was, they’ll be mine in a few months anyway. When he’s gone. When he’s…
dead.

“You’re right. You’ll probably lose them in the pile
of crap littering your bedroom floor,” I teased, not wanting him to know I’d
cottoned on to his true meaning. “I swear your room stinks like a thirteen year
old boy’s.”

“So… you two are good?” he asked curiously, flipping
his gaze between my dad and me. I glanced sideways to my dad and noticed his
greying eyebrows furrow as if he was nervously awaiting my response.

“Yeah,” I said with a smile. “Yeah we’re good.”

My dad’s smile stretched so wide across his face I’m
surprised his lips didn’t split. I smiled back, feeling content. Every so often
I caught Dad staring at Chris’ head and the pain was visible on his face. It’s
difficult seeing Chris with no hair. It’s like it confirms he is in fact dying.
There’s no escaping it now. If somehow you manage to forget for just a fraction
of a second, one look at his bald head brings it all crashing back down on you
with so much force it takes your breath away for a moment.

**********

“Hey, ho,” Rachel answered on the first ring.

“That was quick.”

“I had the phone in my hand, checking Facebook. I
swear it’s better than Jeremy Kyle.” I wouldn’t know. I only have a handful of
friends on Facebook so don’t see the point in checking it. “How was therapy
this morning?”

Dexter has been going to see his new therapist for a
few weeks on his own now, but this morning I went along too. Like Jeff, this
one wanted to see me too. He’s called Jacob, and also like Jeff he’s
unconventional and easy to talk to.

“Good. I think. Dexter was… very honest.”

“Um, why do you sound like that’s a bad thing?”

“It’s not. It’s just… well I suppose it’s hard hearing
him say he still thinks about using. Even though I know he’ll always feel like
that, it’s just a worry, you know?”

“Yeah. I can’t imagine how hard that must be. But it’s
good that he’s telling you though right?”

“Definitely. If he’s being honest it means he’s not
going out and doing it. It’s just difficult.”

“Well I don’t think he’d dare mess with my girl again.
I’ve already told him if he does I’ll knock him on his arse and run over his
bollocks until they’re nothing but bags of dust.”

“And I have no doubt that’s the truth!” I agreed,
laughing. She always makes me feel better, even if it’s by threatening violence
on my boyfriend.

“Sooooo, I have news.”

“Yeah?”

“I had my scan this morning. We’re having girls!”

“OH MY GOD! Why didn’t you tell me? Rach, that’s
awesome!”

“I knew you had the therapy session and I thought you
should concentrate on that rather than wondering how
I
was getting on.”

“That’s ridiculous. You’re my best friend –
whatever’s going on in my head I’ll always make room for you.” Guilt pinged in
my belly when I said the words, because not so long ago I
didn’t
make room for her. “I don’t ever want us to go through stuff
without each other again.”

“Me either,” she concurred.

“But
girls?
I’m
so excited! We can dress them up in the same outfits, play with their hair,
teach them how to put makeup on. I can’t wait!”

“Me too! I said the same thing to Jaz and all I got
was a ‘they’re babies not Barbies’ speech.”

“Meh, he’s a man. Men are stupid.”

“Yep,” she agreed and I could hear her smile through
the line. “So how’s Chris?”

“Ok I guess. He should get the results of his scan
tomorrow.”

“And that’ll tell him?”

“Whether it’s shrunk, or slowed down. If it hasn’t it
means the chemo isn’t working. I don’t even want to consider that being a
possibility right now. He looks so ill without hair – not like my brother
at all. And he’s started getting these dark circles round his eyes like he’s
not getting enough sleep, yet I’ve never known him sleep so much. It’s really
started hitting home lately. I’m losing him, and I’ve never been so scared
about anything in my life.”

“You know what we should do? Go on holiday. All of us.
You and the American, me and Jared, and Chris too. It could be our last chance
before I pop and before… well, you know.”

“Before Chris dies,” I finished for her, feeling brave
enough to say it out loud to her for the first time. Does that mean I’m finding
it easier to deal with? No. I think I might just be starting to accept it. “Sounds
great… but we can’t afford a holiday right now.”

“Doesn’t have to be anywhere expensive, ho. How about
a weekend in Blackpool? Come on, admit it… that would be so much fun.”

“Yeah,” I agreed. “I’ll ask Dex and Chris, see what
they think.”

“Sure. And I’ll just
tell
Jared,” she said with amusement in her voice. “He does as he’s
told. I’ve trained him good.”

 

After squealing and giggling for a little longer about
the fact Rachel is having baby girls, we hung up the phone and I said I’d call
her again tomorrow. But for now, I had to make my way into work and draw up
some invoices. I thought about Blackpool and how awesome it would be all the
way there, and when I walked into the garage, I had a beaming smile on my face.

“Why do you look like the cat who got the cream?”
Chris asked, rubbing his oily hands on an equally oily cloth.

BOOK: Never Let Go (Take My Hand)
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