What Goes Around... (8 page)

‘Nanny!’ I hear Charlotte’s yelp of relief from the interview room but I don’t think her Nanny does.

‘Lucy!’  A woman dashes past me, she’s a tiny little thing with straggly brown hair and I watch Lucy shrugging her off as she tries to wrap her in her skinny arms. ‘I came as soon as I heard.’

But Lucy just stands there, impervious to her mother's comfort - she's as hard as nails that one. Charlotte dashes over and is cuddled by her nanny but Lucy soon ends it, she takes Charlotte's hand and starts walking. ‘We’re just going…’

‘
All right darling, let’s get you both home - you need to get his things before you go…’ Her mum’s got a right Essex accent, compared to snooty Lucy. She’s just trying to be a mum, trying to sort things out for her daughter, trying to spare her pain. ‘You need to take his things, you don't want to have to come back to collect them…’

‘Just leave it Mum!’

‘You need his clothes, his ring…’

‘For fuck
’s sake!’ She shouts at her mum. ‘Just leave it!’

‘Lucy!’ I hear Luke fire a warning and clearly it's not his place because she shoots him that look too. I realise there probably aren’t any clothes to collect and I can see why Lucy’s cheeks are on fire. That’s why she isn’t wearing a bra; she must have just thrown something on. It sort of rams it home to me how much more he wanted her - I mean, did he come home at lunch just to screw her?

I don’t carry on watching because they’re moving Eleanor and getting ready to head up to maternity now. While I want to be there for my daughter, a part of me wants to be here too. Somehow, even though they didn't want me, even though I’ve moved on, even though we’re nothing to do with each other now, even if I hate a lot of guts, still, a part of me feels that this is my family.

Lucy

‘She’s asleep.’

It’s nearly midnight and finally Charlotte has cried herself out.

I thought she’d fallen asleep at eleven but just as I got downstairs she started crying again.
Mum offered to go up to her but it’s me Charlotte wants, so I said no.

Then mum went home.

I asked her to.

She is the very last person I need.

But thank God for Jess.

She wraps her arms around me and takes me to a chair. ‘Do you want something to eat?’

I shake my head.

‘Do you want a drink?’ Luke says. I look up and he’s as white as a sheet, in fact I think he’s been crying again. ‘A brandy?’ he suggests, because I like a brandy now and then.

I don’t answer.

Jess is trying to make me talk but my mouth doesn’t know how to move and then it does. ‘Why do they have to refer it to the coroner?’

‘Because it’s a sudden death,
’ Luke says. ‘It’s normal.’

‘He had a heart attack,’ I say. ‘The doctor said that he did. Why does it have to go to the coroner?’ There’s going to be an inquest, I can see it now. I can just imagine the smirk on Gloria’s face.

She looked amazing.

How can someone look better than they did more than a decade ago?

She looks nothing like I remember her.

Things really did get a little lost in translation at the hospital
, because Luke must have told Jess that he died on the job and they clearly both think it was with me. They think that all the bites and scratches they must have seen on his chest when they went in to see him, have come from me. They didn’t though - they came from some twenty-something slut and soon everyone’s going to know. I start taking deep breaths because I feel like I’m going to start retching.

‘How could he?’ I gag.

‘He didn’t want to leave you, Lucy.’ Jess’s arms are back around me. ‘He loved you so much.’ She’s trying to make me feel better but so deep is my shame she could not possibly reach in far enough to comfort me.

‘I can’t do this,’
I say, but Jess tells me over and over that I can, that I’ll get through this, that she’ll be here. I just sit as she tells me how much my husband loved me and, because it’s Jess, because it’s the sort of thing she says, I just close my eyes as, oblivious, she adds another layer of pain.

‘Hey, he went out with a smile on his face,’ she says with her sexy Welsh accent. I screw my eyes tighter closed and all I can smell is the sex in my bedroom and I can never go in there again.

‘Do you want some tea?’ Luke’s perhaps a little uncomfortable with the subject matter and I’m offered my fiftieth cup since it happened. Something sparks in my head this time, because I haul myself out of the chair and head out to the kitchen because I have to unload the dishwasher.

‘Leave it, Lucy,’ Jess says.
I know she means well, but she doesn't understand, if I leave it now it will still be full in the morning. I need it to be empty in the morning so that I can start my day, and anyway, I need to put the breakfast things out.

‘Lucy, please,’ Jess says as I get out the muesli. I see her cast an urgent look to Luke but they don’t understand, I have to do this now, or everything will go to pot.

It will, I know it will. I’ve always felt I’m just one day away from everything falling apart.

And it can’t.

Simply, it can’t.

Jess has sorted my bedroom.

All the wrappers the paramedics left and my
display purposes only
towel have been tidied away but I can see him lying there dead on the floor as I walk in.

I step over him.

I can’t stand to get into the bed, so I lie on top of it.

I’d have slept in another room
, except Jess and Luke are staying over and it would look strange if I went to a spare room, wouldn’t it?

Wouldn’t I want our bed?

Wouldn’t his scent give me comfort?

I’m still wearing the smock.

I don’t have the energy to change.

Finally
I’ve taken some headache tablets and they are starting to kick in.

I think I’m numb really.

I’m just so tired and so relieved to be able to close my eyes.

And just as I do, just when finally
I escape …

I hear Charlotte cry.

Gloria

I’ve stood him up.

Oh God – I’m supposed to be meeting Paul.

I only remember about nine that night. Things are starting to move more rapidly with Eleanor now. It’s my last chance to pop out for a cigarette and to make a couple of phone calls, to gather my thoughts really, before the baby is born.

Noel won’t come.

It might not be his – she’s finally told me.

She only told Noel a couple of weeks ago it would seem.

I stand
outside the ambulance bay – there’s a message from Lex, Bonny’s husband, to say that they’re sorting out the flights for Bonny and Alice and her boyfriend, Hugh. Lex is going to stay behind and look after the boys. I have to admit to a sliver of relief, because Bonny’s got four sons and they’re a bit wild. Also, I had no idea how I was going to fit everyone in.

I still don’t.

I’m trying to work out where everyone is going to sleep when I suddenly remember Paul.

God, the poor guy, we were supposed to meet
at eight. I look at my watch and it’s ten past nine and I think of him sitting there all that time. He hasn’t texted or rung and I don’t blame him. I knew it took a lot to ask me out. He’s about my age, well a few years younger and he’s a quiet guy, a bit shy really. He’s divorced, like me, except his is more recent and I’m the first person he’s asked out since the break up.

Sorry

I start a text, but what the hell do I write? That my ex-husband dropped dead at lunchtime and my eldest daughter
’s gone into labour, and her husband’s not here because they’ve broken up, because she’s not sure if the baby is his….

I can't really put that can I?

Except, I'm too tired to dilute the facts for anyone, to w
eary with it all to make it sound more palatable, so I put exactly that.

Welcome to my life, I think
, as I hit send.

I light up another cigarette, I really ought to head back, but then I see Rose heading out from the end of
her shift and she comes over to me.

‘How's Eleanor?’

‘Getting there. I think this will be my last break before the baby is born.’ It shouldn't be like this, I think. My grandchild is about to be born, it’s usually such a happy time, and it shouldn’t be so mixed in with grief. ‘Thanks for all your help today, Rose. It must've been awkward for you.’ I see her frown. ‘I mean, having the wife and the ex-wife in the same room.’

‘I just felt sorry for you,
’ Rose says. ‘I know how hard it must have been. I dread the day Vince goes.’ She rolls her eyes and I think she’s going to say goodnight but she doesn’t head off, she just stands there. I don't know if it's my place to ask, but I do want to know.

‘Was it quick?’ I ask, because no matter how I feel about him, I don't want him to have suffered, or maybe I do, I don't know.

‘I think so,’ Rose says. ‘He arrested at home and they got him back but then he arrested again when he got here. We worked on him for ages but there was nothing…’ She shakes her head and I know what she means but I want to know more. We’ve been friends for years Rose and I, well, loose friends. We’re about the same age and we’ve both been through messy divorces and have worked a fair number of shifts together over the years.

I need to know more.

‘Did he get chest pain?’ I ask. ‘Did he say anything?’ I want to know if he said anything before he collapsed, I want to know if even for a minute he thought of me, of our girls, of the family we once were.

‘He was in full arres
t when the paramedics got there,’ Rose says gently. ‘Let him rest,’ Rose says. ‘He’s with the Lord now.’ And that’s Rose - she’s all Lordy, Lordy, it gives her comfort and I want some. I’ve always had my faith but I don’t know what I believe tonight.

‘I’d better get up to Eleanor.’ I am so tired and there’s still so much to do, but just as I move to go, Rose stops me.

‘I called fo
r the porters before I went off.’ I know that means that they're taking him to the mortuary. ‘Do you want to see him before he goes?’

‘Me?’

‘You were his wife for a long time,’ Rose says. ‘It might help you if you can say goodbye.’

‘Do you think it's allowed?’ I ask, because it seems a bit strange and I don't even know if I want to see him. I never really expected to be offered. Rose even makes me smile as she takes my arm and leads me inside.

‘Perk of the job,’ she says.      

He looks older.

Dead too.

But the first thing I notice, as I walk in there, is how much older he looks - he was in his late forties when he left me – so of cou
rse he would look older, he’s coming up for sixty now.

I haven’t seen him for ages. I’ve seen photos but I haven’t seen him in the flesh for years, and I mean years. Not since Bonny left for Australia. He and Lucy had just got married, (I think because she was pregnant – she was always determined to get that ring) and Charlotte must be eleven or twelve now.

I look at his skin and it’s a waxy blue and I don’t want to touch him.

I just stand there and remember all the hurt.

‘What you did to me…’ I start. I feel the shame again and then I stop because it's done with now, dealt with I hope – all those nights I poured my heart out to a journal must surely count for something?

I look at the man who just walked away and started a new life.

What if I’d gone?

What if I’d been the one to walk away?

He knew I never would – that’s the difference between us.

He could walk away and just leave it all
behind, not caring what it did to me. I poured my terrified heart out to those pages. Divorce wasn’t as common then. I just felt so ashamed, like I’d failed – I guess I had.

But I can't be angry any more and maybe finally there’s the forgiveness I’ve been searching for all these years.

After all, I’m still here.

Still standing.

‘Look after our girls,’ I say to him, because even if he was a useless husband he did love our girls. I believe in heaven but I don't know if he’s got there yet, or if he’s hovering around, but if there is anything he can do
, I ask it of him now. I'm scared for my girls sometimes. Eleanor’s life’s a mess, and even though they live far away, I worry about our other girls too. I look down and I’m holding his cold hand and having a conversation that parents should have about their children. I’m sharing the pain and the fears - which is another thing he denied me by walking out the door. ‘Look after our girls,’ I say and then I feel guilty, because it's not just about my girls. I think of little Charlotte and how much she looks like him, how she actually looks like one of mine and I revise my request. ‘Look after
all
your girls,’ I tell him. ‘I don’t know where you are but, if you can, will you please look out for your girls.’