Film Stars Don't Die in Liverpool (13 page)

‘Hang on, give some of them to our Peter. He looks as if he needs a good scoff.’ Then he turned to me. ‘How was Gloria when you left her?’

‘She’s resting now, but I think she’s feeling a little bit better.’

‘Well I think she’s marvellous. A real fighter, that woman. She’s got guts. I suppose that’s what helped to make her a big star.’

‘That’s what the doctor said to me this morning,’ my mother shouted over from the frying pan. ‘He said that he couldn’t believe the determination she’s
got.’

‘She’s certainly determined,’ Joe said. ‘She was almost cracking jokes when I was with her.’

‘She’s asked me to clean her nails,’ I told them. ‘But they look as if they’ve been done.’

‘They have,’ my mother said and joined us at the table. ‘I did them this morning.’ Then she added in a whisper, ‘The doctor said she’ll be doing this a lot
now. Rambling and getting obsessed with things. He said there’s nothing any of us can do for her except try to keep her as comfortable as we can.’

We all fell silent again.

‘Does he think she might be in any pain?’ Jessie eventually asked.

‘Well love, he says that now she might be. I think he’d like to give her something but she still won’t let him attend to her properly. Anyway, I had a good talk to that doctor
this morning and he agrees with me that we should get a nurse to come into the house. Now I know that you’ll say that she doesn’t want one, Peter, but she’s got to have the
necessary attention. She needs bed baths and things, she could get sores. I know that Gloria doesn’t want a nurse but she’s not responsible for herself now.’

I had to agree, we all agreed. Gloria must have a nurse.

‘We’ll have to go “private”. Gloria’s American,’ Jessie said. ‘We’ll never get one on the National Health.’

‘Well, where are we going to get one from?’

It was at this point that I thought about Barbara at the vasectomy clinic.

The play I was in had a serious theme wrapped up in a comic structure and was set in a vasectomy clinic. During rehearsals it was thought a good idea that I went along to a
clinic to talk to the staff and find out how vasectomies were performed. On the day of my visit, which I wasn’t looking forward to, I was met by a strange-looking woman of uncertain age, with
dangling arms, stretched see-through skin, apricot-coloured hair and wearing a grey uniform that was heavily starched. She looked like an X-ray dressed up.

‘I’m Barbara Brawnsley. I’m the Duty Staff Nurse.’ She then looked knowingly into my eyes and started to move her lips about, as if swilling something distasteful around
the inside of her mouth. ‘I hope you’re not sensitive,’ she quipped, then grabbed hold of my arm and led me into the building.

Up two flights of stairs and at the end of a corridor, we arrived at the door to an office. She sat down and picked up a cigarette that had been burning away in an ashtray on the desk in front
of her. She inhaled deeply, then held her breath as the upper part of her body went into mild convulsions while she held back the coughs.

‘Don’t worry about me,’ she said. ‘It’s only a tickle.’

I sat down at the other side of the desk.

‘Now I’ve spoken to the director,’ she went on, ‘and he’s told me all about it and what he wants. I’m sending over a trolley and some instruments to the
Playhouse tomorrow. I haven’t got much time so what I’m going to do is go through the procedure for a vas. You’re going to watch and I’ll pretend to be the patient.
We’ve got to hurry up because the nurses are setting things up now. If you want a cigarette you can smoke in here, but nowhere else, and I’ll have to ask you to wear these plastic bags
on your feet.’

She handed me a pair of cellophane-looking boots and took me into the operating theatre to meet her nursing staff. They were young, lively and chatty, but Barbara bossed them about a lot and
complained out loud about them to me. However, her way of doing it was very light-hearted and affectionate and the girls responded by laughing at her and pulling faces behind her back.

The afternoon went well. When it came to watching a real vasectomy operation, dressed up as a doctor, it wasn’t as bad as I had anticipated.

Barbara and her girls were helpful and enthusiastic, but Barbara enthused the most. As rehearsals went on she would often come to the theatre, or telephone, to ask how things were going and to
offer her advice, wanting to take on a responsibility for the production that was unnecessary but endearing. All the actors and stage staff became fond of her, and she booked tickets for a party of
twenty people on the opening night of the play. Barbara loved the theatre.

‘I’ve got an idea,’ I said to the family. ‘Barbara Brawnsley.’

‘Who’s Barbara Brawnsley?’ my mother asked.

‘She’s a nurse and she works at the vasectomy clinic. She’ll be able to help us out.’

‘Oh Peter, are you sure?’

‘Yes, it’s all right, Jessie. Everything’s going to be fine. I’ll go and telephone her now.’

‘Tell her to leave her scissors behind,’ Joe shouted after me. ‘I’ve got plans for the future.’

Dressed in an old gabardine raincoat, and a plastic headscarf covering her strange orange hair, Barbara arrived at the house twenty-five minutes later.

I took her straight to the kitchen to meet the family, who, after the initial shock, seemed just as taken with her as I was. She quickly made herself at home, sitting around the kitchen table
chattering and drinking cups of tea.

After being given a brief summary of the situation, Barbara was very practical and professional, drawing up a comprehensive list of things that might be needed, which included items such as
bedlinen, plastic undersheets, antiseptics, swabs and the necessary things that would make it easier to give Gloria bed baths.

‘Oh Nurse, it’s marvellous that you could come.’ My mother poured another cup of tea as Barbara lit her fourth cigarette. ‘All my nerves have gone and I’ve been in
a terrible state, especially as I’m going to Australia early next week.’

‘Well, isn’t it a small world?’ Barbara exclaimed. ‘I lived in Australia for over four years. I was a nurse in Alice Springs. You’ll have a wonderful time,
Australia’s a very nice place.’

‘Were you doing vasectomies over there?’ Joe asked with a grin on his face.

‘Oh no,’ Barbara replied. ‘I never touched a vas till I was over fifty, but I’ve done most everything else.’

My mother was reassured; Jessie was fascinated; and Joe was completely amazed.

‘Well, let me go and have a look at her,’ she said. ‘I must see what has to be done.’

‘The thing is, Barbara, Gloria doesn’t like nurses and has said that she doesn’t want one in the house. We have to be very delicate, I don’t want her to get
frightened.’

‘That’s not a problem, Peter,’ she said between coughs. ‘Who’d ever think that I was a nurse? If it wasn’t for my qualifications I could easily be the
patient.’

‘What’s that, Peter?’ Gloria focused on Barbara, sitting in the corner of the room.

‘That’s Barbara,’ I said.

‘Well tell her to go away.’

‘She’s come to help.’

‘I don’t want her help. Tell her to go away.’

Without saying anything, Barbara stood up and left the room. I followed out after her and joined her on the stairs.

‘I’m sorry, Barbara, but I did tell you it would be a bit difficult.’

‘Don’t worry, she’ll get used to me. As soon as I’ve given her a good bed bath and a back support she’ll feel much more comfortable.’

Barbara set to work immediately when we were back in the kitchen. She wanted to know what my mother had available in the house, and added some things to her list.

‘Now, it just so happens that I’ve got the weekend off from the clinic, so if you like I can be here most of the time.’

‘Oh, Nurse, that would be lovely.’ My mother’s face relaxed into a look of welcome relief. ‘It would be really lovely.’

‘Oh, I’m looking forward to it,’ Barbara beamed. ‘I’ve never had a film star through my hands before.’

I sat next to Gloria on her bed. She had a vacant look on her face.

‘Do you want me to fix your pillow?’ I said. ‘Do you want me to shade the lamp?’

Gloria didn’t respond.

I took hold of her left hand and began to clean her nails, but she had no idea what I was doing, so I stopped before I reached the thumb.

It was nearly time for me to leave for the theatre, so I closed the curtains and left the room.

‘That nurse has gone to the clinic to collect all the things on her list, but she’s coming back later,’ my mother said when I went to get my coat from the
kitchen. ‘She’s a bit strange to look at but she seems to know what she’s doing. I think she’s a very nice woman.’

Knowing that Barbara liked gin, I quickly went out and bought a bottle before I left for the theatre so that she could fix herself a drink when she got back to the house. I was grateful she had
come to help at such short notice.

The bus was empty except for a fidgety old man sitting on the seat nearest the driver, the one reserved for the aged. His body arched forward while his hands separated his
knees. He wore a cap pulled over to one side and his shoes were newly Cherry Blossomed. Two seats in front of me sat a lonely woman holding a sleeping child.

I was sitting on the long seat at the back, looking out at the people queuing in the chip shops and going to the pubs. It was a Friday night and there was money to spend.

The bus pulled up at every stop along Aigburth Road, although nobody got on until we reached the Dingle, where a group of women were waiting outside the Bingo.

‘Any luck tonight, girls?’

‘Well if there was, love, we wouldn’t be on your bus. We’d have been home long ago in a taxi.’

They all started to laugh as they paid their fares.

I got off the bus at Blackler’s and walked through the precinct to Williamson Square.

The theatre was deserted. Not even the old girl who sold the programmes and the chocolates had set up her kiosk in the foyer. There was no sign of Old Jack – he was probably in the pub
– and there was no one in the Green Room. I bought myself a cup of coffee from the machine and took it up to the third floor. The corridor was in darkness. I thought it strange that no one
had been round to turn on the lights, but when I reached my dressing room the door was open, and Gil was sitting inside.

‘I was just writing you a note,’ she said.

‘Where is everybody? The place is empty.’

‘You’re in a daze. We don’t start till eight tonight. Anyway, sit down. I want to find out what’s the matter with you.’

The Friday night audience was particularly appreciative and the evening passed by very quickly. Gil was waiting for me at the stage door and insisted on driving me home.

I was tired, but at least it was comforting to know that Barbara was now in the house looking after Gloria. I felt certain that her presence and professional status would bring a degree of order
and stability.

I was wrong.

‘Peter. We can’t get that nurse out of the house.’ My mother and father met me at the door. ‘She won’t go home and she’s drunk.’

‘What do you mean, she’s drunk?’

‘Why did you give her that bottle of gin? She’s nearly finished the lot!’ My mother was almost hysterical. ‘I thought she was giving Gloria a bed bath but when I went up
to the room I found poor Gloria lying on one bed and that woman on the other with the bottle.’

Just then Barbara staggered into the hall.

‘What’s been going on?’ I asked her. ‘What’s happened to Gloria?’

‘She’s a very difficult woman, Peter. She won’t let me do a thing for her. She’s definitely gone funny in the head. They all do that near the end. What she needs is Miss
Euphoria.’

‘What’s Miss Euphoria?’

‘It’s a cocktail of morphine and gin. She wouldn’t know what was happening to her. It’s very nice.’

‘Call Barbara a taxi,’ I said to my mother and ran up the stairs to Gloria’s room.

‘I don’t want that woman in here. Get rid of her, Peter.’ Gloria was sitting up, leaning against the bed support, looking frightened and furious.

Suddenly Barbara burst into the room.

‘See what I told you? What she needs is Miss Euphoria.’

I grabbed Barbara’s arm and led her out of the house.

‘She was being wonderful until she opened that bottle,’ my mother said at the door. ‘I suppose that’s what comes from having a nurse who works at a vasectomy
clinic.’

‘I don’t know about Gloria being the one who can’t say “No”,’ my father added. ‘It’s that nurse who can’t say “No”. Especially
when it comes to the gin.’

When I woke up in the room, she was sleeping. She was breathing; that’s how I knew she was sleeping.

She couldn’t speak much, but there was no need for talk. Sometimes she wanted the window to be shut, later she wanted it to be opened again. It didn’t take long for us to fall into a
routine; we knew each other well.

It had been a cold night outside, and with the wind and the rain coming in through the window, just as cold inside. The cold air was helping her to breathe, and as long as she was able to
breathe, she was alive.

It was dark. It was early. It was a dark, early morning. I knew it was morning when a light was switched on in a house somewhere opposite; the man there delivered the news.

‘She’s getting worse.’

‘I know.’ My mother nodded her head and reached for a cup and a mug.

It was unusual to see her wearing her nightgown, but it was only just daylight; too early to be dressed and up out of bed. No one had slept well.

‘This whole situation is getting worse. I don’t think I can take any more.’ She sat down to pour the tea. ‘I’ve never known anything like it. I’ll be glad
when that son and the daughter arrive.’

‘Gloria still doesn’t know anything about them coming.’

‘Well, let’s just pray that she has time to find out. Only I hope they’re not drug addicts or loonies. I couldn’t go through another session like the one I had with that
nurse.’

‘When did you find Barbara was drinking?’

‘I didn’t even know that she’d started. She was very busy and being marvellous up until about half past nine. Then she came down here to the kitchen holding a thermometer, but
waving it about like a wand. “Do you know what?” she said. “The beautiful actress has just told me that I’m something very rude.” Then she disappeared back up to the
room in a huff. Well, I thought, if she’s a nurse she must be used to insults, and if she’s worked in Australia she’s bound to know what life’s about. Then half an hour
later I started to wonder. That’s when I went up to the bedroom and found her with the gin. It seems that the one minute she was sober and the next minute she was drunk.’