Forever Is Over (147 page)

“
Cal, that didn
’
t even look like Richie,
”
Donna whispered in my ear.

“
I know what you mean,
”
I whispered back,
“
his skin looks like its
been in the bath for a week. Maybe this
is cruel, putting him through
this. Do you think I should go and have a word? We
’
ve always
been
close.
”

“
No,
”
Donna replied,
“
Jemma and your Mum have gone after him.
If someone else goes, he
’
ll start feeling crowded.
”

“
They might be trying to coax him in though. I wouldn
’
t do that.
I
’
d tell him if he wants to bugger off home, that
’
s fine with me.
”

Fortunately I didn
’
t go out. Mum
and Jemma did coax him in and
there was this awkward period where everyone did not know how to
react, it was a party for a terminally ill man who had just shown everyone
that he was a reluctant host. No-one had any
experience of how to act
in those circumstances. There was som
e minor acknowledgement of his
return, but everyone, probably rightly,
gave him time to find his feet
in there. That must be how celebrities fee
l all the time when they go to
parties, everyone is aware of their prese
nce but most people pretend to
ignore them as they feel its bad form to be too in their face.

Donna and I kept a particularly low profile. We didn
’
t really feel like
we fitted in too well to family events anyway. We were the odd lesbian
misfits. Old family members wore cloves of garlic to deter us from going
anywhere near them. We just bought a fe
w drinks and sat in the corner
and chatted amiably to anyone
who ambled over for a natter.

             
About twenty minutes after he came back
in, Richie struggled over
to us. There were two small steps between Richie
’
s starting point and
our table, but his body was so badly rav
aged by cancer, they must have
seemed like Grand National fences t
o him. He sat down on a stool,
breathless.

“
Bloody hell, Richie!
”
I said as I reached across the table to kiss
him,
“
we drive all the way over from Yorkshire and you nearly bugger
off before the first song has finished!
”

“
I
’
m sorry about that! Once that door opened, I saw the pair of you
and I just bolted!
”

“
Really?
”
Donna asked sincerely.

“
Well I did see you, but that
’
s not why I legged it. If you could call that feeble attempt to run
‘
legging it
’
!
”

“
Why did you?
”
I asked.

“
I didn
’
t want people to pity me, Cal.
”

“
You
’
re dying of cancer, Richie! People are allowed to pity you! No-
one pities someone they hate!
”

“
Anyway,
”
Donna joined in,
“
why do you give a toss what anyone
else thinks? Most people here just want to have a good night and see
that you have one too. Don
’
t let anyone spoil it for you, Richie, you just
enjoy yourself, hun.
”

“
Thanks Donna! I intend to. Are you still looking after my big
sister?
”

“
We look after each other, Richie. We sti
ll fight like a pair of boxers
at a weigh in, but we
’
re old enough now to know it
’
s all in the name of
love.
”

I took hold of Richie
’
s hand. It felt cold. As kids, he always had
warm hands, that was one of the many things I remember about him.
Warm hands.

“
You never bloody told me about Kelly being up the duff! I hope
that wasn
’
t the last act of a knackered testicle?
”

Richie laughed. It was a strange laugh. His shoulders moved up and
down but no sound came out, like his bo
dy was too tired for that now.

             
“
Don
’
t even go there, Cal! I can assure you it wasn
’
t mine, I didn
’
t
even know anything about it until Jemma whispered something to me
as I came in.
”

“
The first time or the second?
”
Donna asked.

“
The second.
”

“
Damn! It would have explained everything if it had been the
first. Jemma whispering,
‘
Kellys pregnant!
’
and you legging it. Sherlock
Holmes would not have taken long to figure that one out!
”

Richie smiled shyly.

“
I hate to disappoint you ladies, but the baby belongs to the gentleman
sat with Kelly. His name
’
s Roddy. I spoke to the pair of them for a few
minutes before, he seems a good lad, the type I
’
d go for a pint with,
back in the days I was well enough to go for a pint.
”

“
We
’
ll go over and interrogate him later, Donna, won
’
t we?
”
I
said,
“
Check him out for ourselves, we won
’
t take your word for your
innocence!
”

“
We
’
ve got test tubes,
”
Donna added with comedy timing,
“
we
’
ll
take a sperm sample!
”

“
You two wouldn
’
t even know what sperm looked like!
”
Richie
countered.

“
A DNA test then!
”
Donna laughed,
“
we
’
ll pull his hair out!
”

“
I should have kept you some of mine!
”
Richie said.

It was all silly banter. Richie went on to say he had requested Nirvana
’
s
“
Heart Shaped Box
”
for me and I said I had requested Chumbawamba
’
s
“
TubThumping
”
for him, a jokey reference to his childhood bedwetting.
Richie soon moved on to speak to others, giving Donna and I each a
clasped hand shake before he went on his way.
Later in the evening, Richie took the stage and gave a wonderfully
emotional speech, danced a slow dance with Jemma and before we knew
it the night was over. Donna and I were tw
o of the last to leave. We had
drunk shedloads and were more than a little messy. Richie stood on the
dancefloor making sure he said goodbye to everyone. Full of beer, I gave
him a massive hug, cried and said,
“
I love you so much, Richie Billingham. No-one has ever made me
laugh like you do and no-one ever will!
”

Richie hugged back,

“
Piss off you big oyster diver! I
’
ve done enough crying for one night,
don
’
t get me started again!
”

As we slumped on to the backseats of the taxi, Donna looked at me
and slurred,
“
Do you know what, Cal, your brother Jim is alright, but your
brother Richie has to be the best brother that ever lived.
”

             
And he was.

“
OK, this is going to be tough!
First of all, I owe you all an apology.
As you could probably tell, I
did not have the foggiest idea that this
party was taking place tonight
and once I did know, as you will have noticed, I did not want to come
in. Now let me make one thing clear, that is not a reflection of how I feel
about any of you, it
’
s a relection of how I feel about myself right now.
This tired, bald, skinny man does not feel like me, it feels like a pale
imitation of my former self and I did not want your abiding memory of
me to be this emaciated, nine stone weakling.

It was Jemma that persuaded me to come in. She felt it was important
for you to see me and equally important fo
r me to see all of you. As has
often been the case in our marriage, I
was wrong and Jemma was right.
I cannot possibly tell you how much to
night has meant to me. My dear
mother has always said to me that you can
tell a lot about a man by the
quality of his friends and if that is the case then I am the most brilliant,
wonderful man that has ever lived. Words cannot describe how grateful
I am to all of you for coming here tonight and for the friendship you
have offered me throughout my life. From the bottom of my heart and
the heart of my bottom, I thank you!

I feel a bit like Yul Bryner right now, because
to an extent this feels like I am speak
ing to you all from beyond the
grave. To have advanced warning of you
r demise, in a way, is a great
thing, as you get the opportunity to say
your goodbyes to everyone you
love, but all things considered, I still wish I could have slipped away in
my sleep aged ninety three. Although I said it was something I really felt
uncomfortable about , could I ask all of
you to have a good look at me.
A really good look. The reason I ask, is b
ecause this dying body that is
just about managing to stand before you,
is a victim of my laziness and
forgetfulness. It
’
s far too late for
‘
if onlys
’
now , but if I
’
d have regularly
checked for lumps, none of us would be at this
“
Pre-Funeral
”
party
tonight. Please don
’
t ever make the same mistake as me.

With regards to thank yous, I have alr
eady done a collective one, so
I am only going to do one more. I just
want to thank my amazing wife,
Jemma. I am not scared of death itself, i
t comes to us all, what I hate
though, what I really, really hate, is th
at death will take my wife and
my children away from me forever. We take things for
granted in life.
We get upset when trivial things don
’
t happen the way we want them
to. At times in my marriage, I have faile
d to appreciate how incredibly
lucky I have b
een to spend the last ten
years with Jemma. Jemma is
the strongest, most loyal, most beautiful woman I have had the privilege 
of knowing. I am ashamed that I did not
appreciate that fact for every
second I have had with her. I would hav
e loved to have grown old with
her and watched those beguiling blue eyes smile out from an old ladi
es
face, but it was not to be. To quote Elizabeth Barrett Browning,