sUnwanted Truthst (20 page)

A huddle of elderly women wearing dark coats and hats stood whispering as they waited to inspect the flowers. Jenny recognised them as her mother's friends from the Townswomen's Guild.

‘It's good of you to come,' Jenny said.

‘We were all very fond of Alice. I mean your mum. I saw her the week before last at Copper Cliff. She had a lot to put up with, but I remember she always said, that there was always someone else worse off than her, didn't she?' she turned to the woman on her left. ‘We're all going to miss her on Wednesday afternoons, especially me. At least it's a sunny day; nothing worse than pouring rain at a funeral.'

‘Yes, that's something I suppose. You're all welcome to come back to the house. Robert will organise a lift for you.'

‘No, it's alright dear – we just wanted to pay our respects. You've got enough on your plate with your dad in the wheelchair. He looks so frail. How's he coping, poor man?'

‘Well it was only ten days ago that he had his operation, so considering what's happened, he's not doing too badly. The ambulance is bringing him back to our house, and then they'll come and collect him later.'

‘It's terrible for him and for you too, dear.'

‘Yes it is.' Jenny was deliberately trying not to think about what her father was feeling. If she did, she knew she wouldn't cope. ‘Well, you must excuse me, but I must go and talk to the others.' Two of her father's brothers were standing around his wheelchair smoking. She couldn't remember them being in the church. The last time she had seen them, was twenty years ago, at her cousin Leslie's wedding. They hadn't been invited to hers – Alice had seen to that. As Ernie drew on his cigarette she saw that two fingers were missing from his right hand. So it was true then? She remembered her parent's conversation years earlier.

‘Cissie said he lost them in a revenge attack Gal. He was bloody lucky that was all he lost from what I've heard about them. Always flew close to the wind did Ernie. I remember when he was a lad my old man thrashed him with his shaving strap for stealing.'
The name Kray had been mentioned, and when she heard the name again on the news a year or two later; she had shivered. As she approached, they simultaneously dropped their cigarettes, grinding them into the path with the toes of their black shoes, then, they both laid a hand on Charlie's shoulders and said, ‘You look after yourself, old soldier,' and with a perfunctory nod to Jenny, they turned on their heels and marched from the churchyard towards a grey Bentley.
At least they came to support Dad
.
It doesn't look as if they're coming back for tea.

*

The following morning Jenny stood at the kitchen table and untied the wire from the flower sprays. Robert had returned to the churchyard once their relatives had left and brought the sprays home, saying it was a waste to leave them to rot when they could be enjoyed by other people. As she separated each lily, her tears fell onto the glossy leaves and glistened like raindrops.

Jenny dreaded visiting her father. He hadn't mentioned the funeral, so she hadn't either. They spoke only of the plans she was making for his discharge at the weekend. Jenny decided that there would be plenty of time for talking once he was out of hospital.

‘Mrs Maynard,' the ward sister called her over. ‘You're not to be alarmed, but your father has developed pneumonia. We've started him on strong antibiotics this morning, so he should respond quickly.'

‘Pneumonia, but he was doing so well. We were only talking yesterday about him staying with us until he feels able to return to the flat.'

‘Did he used to be in the army?'

‘Yes, for many years.'

‘That makes sense of some of the things that he's been saying. So he's an old soldier?'

‘Very much so,' Jenny smiled.

‘He didn't want to get out of bed after you left yesterday. Then later in the evening he developed a high temperature. But as I've said, you're not to worry, this sometimes happens, especially with older patients. They don't move about as much as younger people. You do know that he has a tumour in his left lung?'

‘Yes, I do.'

‘That may have had some bearing on him breaking his leg – it may have spread into his bones. But it hasn't been causing him any problems with his lungs until now. You know that you and your husband can visit whenever you like.'

‘Yes, thank you.'

‘Oh, and thank you for bringing the flowers in the other day, they really brighten up the ward.' The ward sister turned away and started to flick through a pile of medical notes.

Jenny parted the curtains and was overpowered by the fragrance from the lilies on the bedside cabinet. Charlie lay propped up against three pillows and opened his left eye.

‘Hello Jenny. Not so good today.'

*

Charlie's lungs improved over the next three days and a new discharge date was arranged. Jenny returned to work and spent her free time turning their dining room into a bedroom ready for Charlie's return.

‘Can I sleep down here?' Lorna and Nicky asked in turn as they bounced on the mattress that lay on the folding bed.

‘No, of course you can't. It's for Granddad. You know that.'

‘Oh please – I'll be good, I promise. I'll go to bed early and I'll be really really quiet, like a little mouse, you won't hear me, I promise,' Nicky pleaded.

Jenny was tempted, but reason triumphed. ‘No, now get off the bed both of you and let me make it up.'

*

The evening before Charlie's discharge Jenny was in the kitchen revising for her exam while Dolly Parton's longings burst forth from the tape player on the windowsill. Lorna and Nicky were playing hospitals in the dining room. She could hear Nicky pretending to be an ambulance with sirens blaring.
Why are boys so noisy? Can't they ever play quietly?
The hatch doors were open and she heard the phone ring in the lounge. Robert would answer it. He was expecting a call about a cricket fixture.

‘Robert Maynard.'

Then silence until she heard him say, ‘We'll come up straight away.'

The receiver clicked back on the handset. Jenny sat frozen at the table staring straight ahead. She heard footsteps in the hall, and turned in her chair. Robert filled the doorway; his face ashen.

‘He's gone Jen, Dad's dead.'

*

They passed a nurse pushing a trolley laden with dirty dinner plates along the corridor. The ward sister was waiting for them.

‘We're so sorry Mrs Maynard, he just slipped away. He was sleeping, so the nurse left his dinner on his table and went back after she'd taken the other meals round. She realised straight away that he'd gone. It must have happened in those few minutes. We're as shocked as you are. He was due to be discharged tomorrow.'

‘He was an old soldier – he never wanted to make a fuss,' Jenny said, staring at the fully drawn curtains around her father's bed.

Eleven days later there was another funeral in the flint church opposite the windmill. The mourners were the same as three weeks earlier – with the exception of the four ladies from the Townswomen's Guild.

*

A week after Charlie's funeral when Lorna and Nicky were asleep, Jenny went upstairs to the linen cupboard and removed the brown envelope from between the tea towels. She went into her bedroom and shut the door. Taking a pair of scissors from her dressing table, she slit the envelope open, shook the contents onto the bed and peered inside the envelope; there were no documents. She started to divide the money into piles of twenty, ten and five pound notes.

‘Jen, are you alright in there?' Robert's voice came from behind the closed door.

‘Yes, I'm fine. I'm just resting. I'll be down in a minute.' She resumed counting. ‘Two thousand nine hundred and eight pounds – nearly three thousand pounds,' she lay back on the bed and wondered how many years her parents must have been saving. Five minutes later she sat up, and pushing the notes back inside the envelope, took it downstairs into the lounge.

‘Robert, I've been thinking.'

‘Be careful,' he said from behind his newspaper.

‘Look, Mum gave me this money a few weeks ago.'

‘Did she?' he put the paper down.

‘Yes, before she went into hospital. I think she knew how ill she was. Anyway, I think we ought to use some of it for a holiday. It would do us both good, and it would be a thank you from me, for all your support. I couldn't have managed without you.' She bent over and kissed him, remembering how he had helped her to arrange the funerals, making numerous phone calls, and finally, supervised the flat clearance, so she didn't have to be there.

‘You don't need to thank me Jen.'

‘I know I don't; but I want to. It would be in memory of Mum and Dad too.'

‘Well, if you're sure?'

‘I am,' Jenny went over to the bookcase, pulled out an atlas and lay it on the coffee table. ‘We can have a look where we might go.' She turned the pages until Europe and the Middle East were spread out in front of them.

‘What about Cyprus? Your aunt lives there. She did invite us.'

Jenny remembered Doris's words after her father's funeral,
‘Jenny, I'd really like it, if you, and Robert and the children of course, could come over and stay sometime soon. I didn't want to ask before, not while Alice – your mum – was alive. We didn't always see eye to eye, and I didn't want to cause any trouble. George and I would pay the airfares. You only need bring some spending money.'

‘Yes she did. The thing is, I've got my exams soon, and you'll have to get time off. So we probably won't be able to go until after Christmas. It will be too cold in Cyprus then. We can always go there later on. She won't be expecting us to go this soon anyway.'

‘Well that cuts out a lot of places Jen. We can't afford the Caribbean, or anywhere in the southern hemisphere. What about the Canary Islands?'

‘No, too boring. I don't want it to be just a holiday. I want it to be an experience; something we can remember and talk about for years to come.'

Robert ran his finger eastwards from the Canaries along the line of latitude – ‘Morocco; Tunisia; Egypt; Israel.'

‘Cairo, Robert, let's go to Cairo. It will be warmer than Europe and there'll be plenty to do if it's chilly,' Jenny said excitedly.

‘I don't know Jen. It sounds very foreign. We might pick up something. I've heard everyone gets ill who goes there – gyppy tummy.'

‘Well, at least we'll remember it, won't we?' Jenny laughed. ‘Think of the Pyramids, and the Sphinx.' Jenny poured over the atlas. ‘Look, there's a train line marked to Luxor. We could go there if we don't like Cairo; or it's too cold.'

‘Let's see.' Robert moved his finger down the page. ‘I suppose we could. But what about Lorna and Nicky? I wouldn't be happy taking them to a place like Cairo.'

*

The wipers slapped furiously as rain streamed down the windscreen.

‘I hope they'll agree to look after them. As you say, they can't really come with us, and it will be term time. Anyway, we're the ones who need a break.' Jenny turned to Robert who was leaning forward trying to see through the glass.

‘I'll ask Mum. Don't you say anything, let me do the talking.'

‘I don't want to stay with Nanny and Grandpa Reggie,' Nicky shouted from the back seat.

‘Stop being a wimp.' Lorna pinched her brother.

‘Ow.'

‘He elbowed me.'

‘Stop it you two. Nicky it's really important that Dad and I have a holiday on our own, so we can come home happy, and remember Granny and Granddad.'

‘I want to come; so I can remember them too.'

‘Don't be stupid; didn't you hear what they said? Anyway we can't miss school,' Lorna stuck her tongue out.

‘Yes we can, I don't care.'

*

Jenny bit her lower lip as she placed her cup and saucer on the coffee table. She could hear Lorna and Nicky squabbling in the room above. Robert took a deep breath and looked up at Maggie. ‘Mum, Jen… I… was wondering if you could do us an enormous favour and look after the children for two weeks in the New Year?'

‘What… why?' Maggie pursed her lips and frowned.

‘After everything we've had to deal with lately, we… we… were hoping to get away for a break,' Robert stuttered.

‘I know it's been hard for you both lately, especially for you Jen. But we've helped out when we could; having them for the odd day, here and there. But for two whole weeks, that's a long time. I never had a break when I was bringing you up Rob, on my own as well. I didn't know what a holiday was.'

‘I know Mum, I know, but Jen really feels that she needs to get away.'

‘I have just lost both my parents Maggie. If that's not a good enough reason I don't know what is?' she could feel a tear forming.

‘Well I think it's a good idea,' Reggie added.

‘Suppose it snows? It often does in January. How will I get them to school?'

‘I could take them Maggie. You don't need to worry about that,' Reggie puffed on his pipe.

‘I might get one of my migraines? They last for days. I'm fit for nothing – certainly not looking after two lively children.'

Jenny noticed the look of surprise on Reggie's face. Maggie was never ill. She only thought anyone else was when they were on their death-bed.

Robert stood up as if to leave. ‘Mum, if you're not willing to help us out just this once, I'm not going to come to David's wedding.' Jenny looked at him in astonishment.

‘I wish I didn't have to be there,' Reggie said. ‘Mind you, they haven't set a date yet, knowing him they'll never get round to it.' David had recently broken the news that he was going to marry Corinne, a new age traveller with Rastafarian dreadlocks.

‘Reggie how can you say that? Corinne's a lovely girl. I know I was disappointed at first, but she has qualities.'

‘What qualities? The only thing I've noticed is her ability to avoid working, so they make a good pair,' Reggie puffed on his pipe again.

Maggie sighed, ‘Well, I suppose they could stay here.'