Crash, page 16
I caught my breath on the second landing. Someone called out. ‘Alice, down here. We’ve moved his room. Lower dependency. I tried to call you. Dr Pritchard says he can go home.’
‘But you said you would wait until I was ready for him,’ I protested.
‘That bloke Thompson insisted Carl be moved out. Told the financial director of the hospital that you’re bankrupt. We had no choice once our finance people knew they wouldn’t be paid. He is much better today… against all odds. I have his discharge papers ready. You can pick them up from reception.’
‘Who’s with him right now? Is it Thompson?’ I didn’t need an answer. A smell of mildew and cats lingered in the corridor. It could only be one person.
‘She turned up an hour ago,’ Jack whispered. ‘They’re having the most terrible row.’
I listened at the door. ‘That’s not a row. That’s a conversation.’
I pushed the door ajar, shocked to see Carl out of bed and standing, taller now than his shrunken mother, rocking back on his heels, his hands in his dressing-gown pockets, emphasising his point. ‘I am not denying your eminent career as a biologist, Mother, but I hardly need to point out that the brain is not your area of expertise, whereas it is mine. At least it will be.’
Beatrice turned at the rattle of the door handle. ‘Oh, it’s you. I wondered when you’d show up. My son has been telling me about his ridiculous idea of creating a mobile phone that picks up electrical activity from the brain. Total nonsense of course.’
‘I thought it sounded like a good idea,’ I replied, watching Carl’s reaction. ‘Think what it could do for people who can’t speak.’
‘We’re light years away from having the capability to harness brain activity in this way and from what I can see, he hasn’t got light years ahead of him.’
Carl slumped onto the bed. ‘Thanks, Mother.’
He turned to me. ‘You shouldn’t have invited her.’
I hated Beatrice. Her need to be right, to always be the best, had once again trumped any miserable shoots of parental concern that had brought her here.
‘I didn’t…’ I let my voice trail away.
‘I think Carl can go home,’ I said to Beatrice. ‘Let’s pack his case. I can drop you off at the station.’
‘The station!’ she snorted. ‘I didn’t come all this way to spend one hour with my son. I’m staying until Monday.’
Beatrice insisted on sitting in the front passenger seat because of ‘her leg’, although I hadn’t noticed anything wrong with it. Carl had to squeeze into the back. He had never been a passenger in my car and only ever sat in the back of his own when driven by his chauffeur. This new experience was compounded by several others: Madeleine tapping on the window and waving, and Tom climbing into the back seat, shoving his rucksack against his father’s elbow as he adjusted his seat belt.
‘Wow, quite a crew,’ Tom commented. ‘Where did you pick up this lot, Mum?’
Beatrice reprimanded Tom, without turning around. ‘Hello, Grandmother, I’m so pleased to see you again.’ I glanced in the driving mirror and saw Tom hold his fingers over his nose like a clothes peg. I heard Carl chuckle, and I laughed too.
‘What’s so funny?’ Beatrice asked.
‘We don’t ever do things like this, drive around like an ordinary family. It feels so different, I just felt like laughing.’ In the driving mirror, Tom was making winding gestures at my reflection. ‘Have you and Carl ever been in a car together before?’
Beatrice tutted. ‘You always were a strange girl.’
Tom helped his father up the steps, while I carried all the bags into the house.
‘Look after your grandmother,’ I said to Tom, ‘while I take Dad up to his room.’ I didn’t wait for an answer, but helped Carl make a slow climb up two flights, both feet on every step, to his suite of rooms. Pale and struggling for breath, he collapsed into bed and I tucked his pillows at his back so that he could sit up.
‘I’ll get rid of her as soon as I can,’ I said, trying to reassure us both.
He grasped my arm. ‘How has my mother met Tom?’
I stared at my arm, where Carl’s thin fingers gripped my sleeve and he let his hand drop. ‘I took him to see her last week. There hasn’t been an opportunity to tell you. You did ask me to let her know.’
Carl shook his head. ‘I meant a text or something. Now look what you’ve started. When were you going to tell me?’
‘I wasn’t… shall I insist she leaves?’
‘She can stay if she wants but don’t let her anywhere near me. Since Tom found her so amusing in the car, she might be a distraction for him.’
I knew better than to argue and put on music, setting a drink on the table by Carl’s pillow and followed his whispered instructions to organise the room so that he could use his laptop. Only one thought dominated as I performed these routine and familiar tasks; how on earth was my night in London going to survive this unwanted invasion?
I glanced at my watch. ‘I’d better go and see how they’re getting on, they’ve been alone for over half an hour.’
Carl nodded but he was already working and didn’t look up when he said, ‘Where’s my mobile?’
It lay at his elbow, hidden by a fold of pillow. I scooped it into the sleeve of my sweater and said, ‘I’ve no idea. If I find it, I’ll set it to charge.’
Beatrice sat next to Tom at the table in the conservatory. He had made tea, leaving teabags in the mugs. They had both squeezed these out and slopped them across the polished surface. Tom’s school workbooks were spread between them and Honey sat with her chin in Beatrice’s groin, her nose twitching to better catch the delicious scents of unwashed body and cats.
‘Hi, how are you two getting on?’ I asked, forcing my voice to sound busy and cheerful.
‘This boy has either been born stupid or you two have made him stupid by sending him to that ridiculous school. You’re well rid of that place. It looks like I’m going to have to teach him myself.’
I sat down opposite. ‘Well, Tom, perhaps you have your home tutor after all.’
He grimaced at me, giving his head a slight shake but I ignored him. ‘I’ll leave you two to get on with whatever it is you’re doing. I need to think about dinner.’
In the kitchen, I checked Carl’s phone. The battery was flat, as I suspected. I pushed it deep into a jar of rice, hiding this at the back of a cupboard, then pressed my forehead against the cupboard door. What should I do about tomorrow night?
TWENTY-TWO
SATURDAY 27TH SEPTEMBER
The house was silent, everyone apart from me in their bedrooms. Beatrice was unlikely to sleep late and would wake soon but Tom had hours ahead of him. In the middle of the night, I had crept downstairs to look again at my sister’s unanswered email. All evening, in front of Tom and Beatrice, I had pretended that having my terminally ill husband sent home from hospital, along with his estranged mother, was entirely normal and I would cope. But at three in the morning, in the winking blue light, shock at my situation finally released my dry lips from the rictus grin they had assumed and my eyes blurred with tears as I reread Hazel’s welcoming, friendly words.
I woke in the office, my head on the desk, my neck stiff and aching. Instead of packing for London and anticipating Fran’s arrival, I had to decide whether to go to London at all. Exhaustion chipped away at my confidence, and by seven, I had resolved not to go. If anything bad happened in my absence, I would never forgive myself. There was no choice, I would stay.
My phone buzzed, making me startle. It was Dan.
‘Why are you ringing?’ I whispered. ‘Is it safe?’
‘Nothing serious. She’s had to go to her mother’s and has taken the girls, because I’m at a conference this weekend.’ I heard speech marks around the word conference. ‘I wanted to hear your voice, check everything is still okay.’
‘It couldn’t be worse. Carl is here, sent home from hospital without warning and his mother has turned up. I can’t leave Tom in the care of those two, and Fran of course. Should we postpone?’
I held my breath through Dan’s silence. ‘Postpone until when?’ he said at last. ‘It’s great Carl’s mother is with you. If she wasn’t there, you might have a point. You couldn’t leave a teenage boy and a barely adult girl alone with their very sick father. But there’s another adult at home, a competent adult.’
‘You think we should still go?’
‘Of course! Give his mother a chance to be the parent she’s singularly failed to be, so far.’
‘But what about Fran?’ I argued. ‘She’s never met Beatrice. Perhaps I should ring her… ask her not to come.’
Dan lowered his voice, sounding deep with reassurance. ‘Leave everything as it is, Alice. You said Fran was really coming to see that nurse. It will feel a lot safer, surely, with a proper adult in the house?’
‘Hmmm,’ I said. ‘You haven’t met her. But you’re right. I couldn’t navigate my way through this… I’m too tired… but everything you’ve said makes sense. I’ll see you this afternoon, at the station, exactly as we planned.’
Carl was still asleep in his bedroom when I took him some breakfast. He rarely ate in the morning but the gesture mattered. I left the tray at his bedside, hoping that he might, at least, swallow some orange juice. Downstairs, Beatrice was in the kitchen, fully dressed. Taking a deep breath, I spoke to her back as she washed last night’s dishes at the sink rather than putting them in the dishwasher. I grimaced behind her as she lifted Honey’s bowl from the floor and tossed it into the sink with the breakfast things. ‘I’m going to London today, for the night. Fran will be here. You haven’t met her yet but I’m sure that between the three of you, you can look after Carl.’
‘You should stay here to look after your husband,’ Beatrice replied, dropping a bowl covered in suds onto the draining rack. ‘Not go swanning off to London.’
‘I didn’t think Carl would be home this weekend,’ I blustered. ‘I’ve made plans I can’t cancel. He should be fine with two adults here, especially his mother. I’ll write out a list of instructions for you.’ Despite the years of carers and the nursing he’d needed in hospital, I’d done my share of caring for Carl. I knew what was needed. It was only for one night… they would manage.
Beatrice reached for a tea towel and began to scrub at the bowls, half turning towards me. ‘I suppose I can always ring the hospital if I need help.’
‘No you can’t, he’s not a patient there now. We can’t afford it. If there’s a problem ring me or the GP out of hours service, not that they know anything about him. I’ll take Carl to the practice on Monday.’
Beatrice lifted a mug and poked the towel inside. ‘So you have got money problems after all,’ she crowed, victorious in being right.
‘It seems we have, but I’m not certain of the degree. Carl’s business partner knows the detail, but he must not see Carl while I’m away. His name is Oliver Thompson and he might turn up. Tom knows how to open and lock the gates from inside the house so you must keep an eye him and make sure he doesn’t let Oliver in.’
I watched Beatrice clear the rack, wondering if I could find another task for her in a different part of the house so that I could put everything back in the dishwasher.
‘Why are you here?’ I asked. ‘After all this time, why have you come?’
She hung the mugs on the hooks underneath the cupboards, taking care that each faced the same way. I was reminded of Carl. ‘I like your boy. I liked him the first time we met. It’s too late for Carl. I didn’t feel the same about him and I regret that, but it’s not too late for my grandson. Now, if you’ll excuse me I’ll take the dog out, since you haven’t bothered this morning. You get that boy out of bed and his lessons will start as soon as I’m back.’
After lunch, we all drove to see Madeleine. Tom was keen to escape from Beatrice’s probing at his lack of basic education and she seemed equally keen to ask a vet for free advice about one of her cats. Madeleine, generous and hospitable, gave Carl’s mother a tour of the practice and some samples of worming tablets.
‘How are you, when’s the op?’ Madeleine whispered while Beatrice was distracted by the misery of caged, post-operative cats.
I nodded towards my mother-in-law. ‘I haven’t said anything to her because I want her to go home but it’s all happening next week.’
‘You know that Tom can spend as much time here as he wants. He’s very willing and he loves animals. How is Carl?’
‘Unexpectedly back home but very frail. He keeps out of the way, right at the top of the house.’
‘How on earth will you manage next week, and afterwards?’
‘We’ll sort something out. Ella will be home and who knows, Beatrice might still be with us.’
‘Let me know what I can do… I want to help.’
‘Thanks, but keeping Tom occupied is more than enough.’
At home, I encouraged Honey to make the climb with me to Carl’s attic rooms. We waited outside the door, both of us alert, Honey’s head to one side and her ears forward as if the simple act of listening harder might make hearing possible. I picked up the familiar sound of the Smiths through the heavy door and tapped, pushing my way in without expecting a reply. Honey frisked towards Carl, working at his desk and ran a circuit of his study, exploring the base of the skirting board with her nose.
Carl had his back to me, facing one of his computers. I sat on the edge of his day bed, making furrows in the velvet upholstery with my fingers.
He spoke without turning around. ‘And you’ve brought the dog up here because…?’
I ignored his question. ‘Your mother’s having a rest. I’m wondering if you’re planning to join the others for dinner tonight. Fran will be here.’
Honey had already found Carl’s unfinished lunch and I lifted the tray from the floor onto my knee.
‘When is she going? My mother I mean.’
‘I thought you felt she should stay.’
He sighed, impatient. ‘I said I thought she was interesting for Tom, I didn’t say I liked having her here. He doesn’t have a relationship with her. To him, she’s no more than an amusing specimen. As far as I’m concerned she can stay but I won’t have anything to do with her.’
‘I think she’s going on Monday. Her cats are only being fed by a neighbour until then.’
I decided to say nothing about London, the fewer words spoken, the less chance of being caught in a lie. Hidden up here, perhaps he need never know.
‘Carl… Oliver says we’re in trouble financially.’
He spun around on his office chair. ‘No more or less than anyone else, unless Oliver’s been playing fast and loose with company funds.’ He sniggered as if this was amusing, as if it wasn’t a serious possibility. ‘Where is he anyway?’
‘I’ve asked him to stay away until you’re well enough to see him.’
‘I’m well enough now.’
‘You’re not. The hospital said you shouldn’t have visitors.’
‘Well, where’s my bloody phone? If I could find it, I could speak to him.’
I pretended to scan the room. ‘We must have left it at the hospital. I’ll track it down. It’s only a matter of hours since you recovered enough to sit up and talk. Stress might trigger another collapse… the business can wait.’
I swallowed. My trip couldn’t be kept a secret. ‘You’ll be alone with Fran, Tom, and your mother tonight because I’ll be in London. I’ve said Oliver’s not to visit. Your mother’s been instructed not to open the gates and I’ll speak to Tom.’
Carl grinned, defiant, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes. ‘If he turns up, I can open the gates for him.’
‘Don’t, Carl, don’t open them for anyone. I’ve spoken to Oliver and I think we’re very, very short of money. We couldn’t pay the hospital fees and he’s talking about selling the girls’ flats. There’s a possibility Claudio might roll up as well, because he’s not getting paid either. We mustn’t involve your mother, Tom or Fran in our problems or put them at risk. Keep the house locked up and wait until I’m home. We can see Oliver together.’
Carl narrowed his eyes. ‘You’ve never had any faith in Oliver. You have to learn to be more trusting.’
The audacity of this took my breath away, but I couldn’t risk an argument. ‘In this instance,’ I said, ‘I think my mistrust has been well placed. You must promise me you won’t see him until I’m back.’
‘I can’t promise that. Anyway, remind me why you’re going to London?’ Carl frowned at me over the top of his glasses. Honey rested her chin on his leg and wagged her tail, hoping he might stroke her head.
‘I’m having surgery next week. It’s going to be pretty tough and I’ll be out of action for a while. I wanted some time on my own; to stay in a good hotel, go shopping and there’s a new production of Madame Butterfly at the Royal Opera House. If I don’t see it this weekend then–’
‘I thought we were short of money,’ he interrupted.
‘We are but I’m not… at least not immediately. The school paid back the rest of the year’s fees and they’re in my account.’
He blew on his lenses, holding them up to catch light from the single attic window. Honey left his side and leaned against my knee, panting.
‘Oh well, as long as you’re okay. Never mind the rest of us.’
I pressed my spine into the chair and stared at the pictures jumping across the screen of Carl’s muted television. Words tracked below the images, telling us the mass selling of HBOS shares had slowed. This is too difficult, I thought. While we’re collapsing, so is the rest of the world. I can’t manage this, so many players, so many factors. It’s beyond my control.
Aloud I said, ‘Carl, do what you like but don’t cause any distress to your mother or your children. I’m not okay, remember? I’m having radical cancer surgery next week and I intend to go to London and spend a little money. You will be safe and you will be well looked after. I don’t need either your agreement or your consent.’
