Cervena (7 page)

“Hi, boss. What’s up?”

“Hello, Pavel. I’m going to need you to help Karel look after things for a while. I’m not sure how long for. I had to come home. My mother’s in the hospital.”

“I’m so sorry, Joel. I hope she’ll soon get well. Don’t worry about anything here. You can count on me. Did you talk to Karel?”

“His phone’s off. Will you tell him? I don’t know when I’ll get the opportunity to call again.”

“Of course. Don’t worry.”

“Thanks.” I ended the call quickly and scrolled through the dancers’ numbers, looking for Sasha’s. I was reluctant to give him a sob story, but at the same time I didn’t want him to wonder why I hadn’t been in touch. Taking a deep breath, I called him.

Sasha’s phone rang and rang but he didn’t pick up. He must have gone out. Disappointed, I called Tomáš. He was the only other person I felt I could confide in. He was loud and brash, he liked to play the fool and take the piss out of others, but I’d found him to be honest and trustworthy.

“Morning, boss!” he answered brightly, a moment later. “Actually, it’s afternoon, but only just. What can I do for you? Private dance maybe? You know you want to.”

“Tomáš.” My voice sounded dull and serious to my own ears, and he immediately picked up on it.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m in England. My mother’s in the hospital.”

“Oh, God. Is she going to be okay? I’m so sorry.”

“I don’t know, I hope so. I called Pavel and asked him to let Karel know. I couldn’t reach Karel; his phone’s off. They’ll keep everything running, but I need you to do something else for me.”

“Of course. Anything.”

“I don’t know if he’s said anything. Maybe he wants to keep it quiet; I don’t know. I wasn’t planning on telling anyone—”

“Are you talking about Sasha?” Tomáš interrupted.

“Why would you think that?”

“The way you look at him and he looks at you, it’s surprising the pair of you haven’t gone up in flames. I’m sorry if that was out of line.”

“It wasn’t.” I sighed heavily. “I took him out for dinner last night. I called him just now, but—”

“He went to the supermarket.”

“Okay. Will you tell him what happened? I don’t want him to think… I don’t know, anything. That I changed my mind. You can give him my cell phone number. I haven’t done that. Don’t say anything about this to the others. I know you’re close with Marek.”

“I promise.”

“I don’t know how long I’m going to be away. It’s two weeks from Christmas. I may just stay until after, whatever happens.”

“I’ll tell him. Don’t worry about anything here.”

“Thank you, Tomáš. If I’m not back before, you can tell the others they’ll have their Christmas bonuses in their accounts on Christmas Eve. I can do that from here at least.”

“Hell, Joel. That’s the last thing you need to think about.”

I could picture Tomáš shaking his head, and I would have smiled if I hadn’t felt sick with anxiety. “Thanks.”

I ended the call quickly when Steve came out to sit with me. “Ros is reading to your mum,” he told me. “We thought she might hear her voice if she keeps talking. She’s got one of those women’s magazines with the short stories in.”

“That’s good.”

We sat in silence for a while until Steve suggested finding some food. It was almost two o’clock, and I hadn’t eaten anything since my dinner with Sasha. I wasn’t particularly hungry and doubted I’d find it easy to eat, but I agreed to a sandwich. Steve went to the cafeteria and returned ten minutes later with an assortment of wrapped sandwiches and some cans of Coke.

“There wasn’t much choice. Tuna, cheese and pickle, or ham salad. I got two of each.”

“Tuna. Thanks.” I took the sandwich and drink from him and ate without enthusiasm. Steve left me alone and went to take Rosalyn some of the food. When he came out again an hour later, I went in. “Any change?”

“Her eyelids flutter every so often.” Rosalyn forced a smile. “I keep thinking she’s going to wake up, but they said it’ll be a while. Maybe not even today.”

We sat together for most of the afternoon, passing the time talking. Rosalyn told me about Rachael’s recent achievements in school and how excited she was about Christmas. I told her one of the club’s dancers had left to go to a dance school in Vienna and that I had two new employees. “Gabriel and Sasha.”

“At least those two have names I can pronounce. Are they Czech?”

“Gabriel is. Sasha’s Russian.”

“That must make things difficult. Does he speak the language?”

“He’s learning, but his English is excellent. He’s become very popular in the club.”

Rosalyn turned her head and stared hard at me. “You like him.” It wasn’t a question.

“Yeah.”

“Does he like you?”

“I think so. We had dinner last night.”

“It’s about time, Joe. It’s been a long time since Phillippe.”

“What can I say? I’m fussy.”

“Sasha must be special, then. What’s he like?”

“He’s sweet, a bit shy, but tougher than he seems. He’s been through a lot. He had a hard time for a few years, especially after he came out. Physically, he’s about an inch shorter than me, slim, nearly black hair, and green eyes. You’d say he was pretty.”

“How old is he?”

“Coming up to twenty-one.”

“Cradle snatcher.”

“Tell me about it. At least I haven’t gone as far as Karel. I despair of that man.”

“I thought he was your friend.” She raised her eyebrows.

“He is, but I don’t have to like him hitting on boys so young. They’re legal, but—”

The beep on one of the machines beside Mum’s bed became irregular.

“Oh, God, what’s happening?” Rosalyn leapt out of her chair, wringing her hands. “What shall I do?” Without waiting for an answer, she punched the red button on the wall and a loud buzzer issued a warning. In seconds, a nurse burst into the room. She checked the beeping machine and shouted toward the partly open door.

“I need some help in here, please!”

“Shit!” I rose from my chair and pushed it out of the way. “What’s going on?” I reached for Rosalyn’s hand, and we moved away from the bed to give the medical staff room to work. Two doctors charged into the room with a crash cart and I watched in horror as they shocked Mum, paused, and repeated the procedure. Rosalyn cried quietly beside me, clinging to my hand with both of hers.

I felt strange, as if this wasn’t really happening. Rosalyn had always liked the TV show,
Casualty
, when she was in her teens. It seemed as if I were watching an episode of the hospital drama, rather than standing by my mother’s bedside while doctors tried to keep her alive. I tried to focus but I didn’t completely register what was going on until staff began to wheel the bed out of the room, and I heard the word
surgery
uttered by one of them. Then Rosalyn let go of my hand and wrapped both arms around me instead.

“God, Joe, what if she dies? What are we going to do?”

I hugged her tightly, feeling like a kid for the first time in almost twenty years since we’d lost Dad. I understood exactly how she felt and her words echoed in my head.

What are we going to do?

Chapter Five

A NURSE
took the three of us to a relatives’ room so we could sit in private rather than in the corridor. We were told Mum’s surgery—coronary angioplasty—would take hours. While we’d talked before, now we waited in silence. Rosalyn sat beside Steve on a well-worn sofa, her head on his shoulder and her hand gripped tightly in his. I sat in the closest armchair, staring into space and thinking back on my life.

Mum had had a weak heart for a long time, diagnosed with unstable angina over five years earlier. She was still so young—only fifty-eight. They’d kept it from me for two years. I’d just bought into the club at the time and had worked every spare hour to get it ready for opening. Mum had refused to let Rosalyn tell me in case I threw in the towel to come home and lost everything I’d worked so hard for.

I’d been furious when I’d found out. Mum had suffered chest pains three Christmases ago, and after an attempt to ease the symptoms with the medication she’d been taking for months, Rosalyn had called an ambulance. I’d been in two minds about doing exactly what they’d feared I would do. I hadn’t wanted to be in another country, a minimum of six hours away, taking into account airport check-ins and waiting around, when Mum could have an attack at any moment. But Mum had returned from the hospital as determined as ever, and told me she wouldn’t let me consider giving up my businesses on the off chance she might have another “flutter.”

I sighed heavily and closed my eyes. I should have come home then. If I’d sold the condos, I could have used the money to set up some kind of business in London. I should have made more time and spent every minute I could with her.

“Joe, stop beating yourself up.” Rosalyn touched my arm, and I opened my eyes again to glance at her. “You know Mum wants us to live our own lives.”

“Yeah.” I cleared my throat and pulled my cell phone out, checking for messages. Karel had sent a text to tell me he was sorry about my news and that I shouldn’t worry about the club. He’d spend more time there and keep on top of everything. Another message had come from Tomáš’s number.

I am sorry for your bad news. I hope everything will be ok. Sasha.

I frowned at the message. Sasha hadn’t invested in a cell phone yet. The words seemed surprisingly cool, given what had happened on our date. Maybe he was uncomfortable about sending the message from Tomáš’s phone. Perhaps he didn’t know what to say, or he’d had second thoughts about me. If he’d had his own phone, I’d have responded to ask if everything was all right, but I didn’t want to try to have a conversation with him through Tomáš, especially if Sasha didn’t really want to hear from me.

I shoved my phone back into my pocket and rested my elbows on my knees, lowering my head into my hands. I couldn’t think about Sasha now.

“How long has it been?” Rosalyn asked.

“Two hours.” Steve shuffled in his seat. “Either of you want coffee?”

“No thanks, love. I need to stretch my legs.” Rosalyn got to her feet.

“I don’t either.” I straightened up and dragged my fingers through my hair. “Why don’t you both go for a walk? I’ll call you if there’s any news.”

They left me alone. I walked around the room a few times, wincing at the pain in my leg. The dash from the plane to the train station hadn’t helped it at all. I sat down again, stretched it out, and lifted my foot onto the small table in front of my chair.

My sister and Steve returned fifteen minutes later and sat on the sofa again. Steve sipped from the paper cup of coffee he’d brought with him and shuddered. “This stuff is disgusting.”

The door opened and we all looked up as a surgeon clad in green scrubs stepped into the room. She looked serious and sad. She let the door close behind her and clasped her hands together in front of her waist. I scrambled to my feet and met her eyes hopefully, silently begging for a positive outcome just as I knew Rosalyn was doing. Those few seconds before the surgeon opened her mouth seemed interminable.

“I’m so sorry. We did everything we could.”

Rosalyn let out a wail and slumped against Steve. I tried to listen, but with the rushing noise in my ears and the sound of my heart pounding, joined by Rosalyn’s sobs, I only picked up a few words.

“…Too weak… infarction… so sorry… nothing more we could do….”

Struggling to breathe, I lowered myself back into the chair before my leg gave way. Mum was gone. It seemed like an awful dream that I would wake up from at any moment.

Memories raced through my mind, of times when she’d been healthy and strong. She’d been firm but loving, bringing us up alone after Dad passed. I’d been almost old enough to manage on my own, but Rosalyn had been in her early teens. Mum had taken on the role of both parents with determination, pushing aside her own pain to make sure we were okay. She’d held the family together and now she’d left us, far too soon.

“When can we see her?” Rosalyn asked, her voice shaking and thick with tears.

“Just give us a little time. Someone will come to you when we’ve made her ready.”

I grimaced at the thought of them stitching her up, covering the evidence of the surgery with dressings and a sheet, and trying to make her look peaceful so we wouldn’t be too shocked. I rubbed a hand over my face, surprised to find it dry. My throat hurt and my eyes stung but there were no tears. I felt drained.

Rosalyn was back on the sofa, weeping quietly in Steve’s arms. They had each other and little Rachael, and it made me realize for the first time how alone I was. Thirty-five years old and I had nobody.

“JOE, COME
on.” Rosalyn grasped my hand and tugged. “We’re going.”

“Going where?” I heaved myself up and reached for my coat.

“To say… g-good-bye.”

I didn’t know how long I’d been sitting there lost in thought. A nurse waited at the door for us, and when we were ready, she led us down a series of corridors to a room where Mum was laid out, exactly as I’d imagined. A white sheet covered her to the neck, her neatly brushed hair framed her ashen face, and her closed eyes and relaxed features made it seem as if she were merely sleeping.

I stayed by the door while Rosalyn went to Mum’s side, touched her face and held her hand, whispering things to her that were only meant for mother and daughter. Steve stood at my side, head down and face strained. He loved Mum too. She’d welcomed him into the family with open arms and loved him as she would another son.

When Rosalyn returned to his arms, I slowly approached the bed. Mum looked so calm. I touched her hand, finding her skin cool but not cold. Surely she would wake when I squeezed her fingers, and open her eyes to reprimand me for rushing back to England again for nothing more than a “flutter.”

“I’m so sorry, Mum,” I whispered. “I should have been here. I should never have gone.”

My heart shattered into a thousand pieces in my chest, and yet still I didn’t cry. My eyes burned but remained bone dry.

I stayed there at her side—it could have been a minute or an hour before Steve placed his hand on my shoulder and steered me to the door. I walked with them, and after a few minutes, we reached Steve’s car. Rosalyn and I sat in the back seat, clinging to each other’s hands like a pair of frightened children, as Steve drove us home.