The Moment She Left (23 page)

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Authors: Susan Lewis

BOOK: The Moment She Left
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Since Rowzee didn’t seem to have any more questions for the moment, Andee said, ‘So what prompted you to tell Sean about Victor when you did?’

Norma shook her head sadly, but before she could answer Rowzee put a hand to her mouth, saying, ‘He’s crying. Is he crying?’

Tears were indeed running down Sean’s sunken cheeks, but Norma was unflustered as she took a tissue from a box beside her to dry his eyes, and another to dab the drool from his chin.

‘Why is he crying?’ Rowzee asked worriedly.

‘We don’t know that he is,’ Norma replied. ‘It could just be the angle that he’s holding his head making his eyes run.’

Realising she needed to tell herself that as a way of dealing with his inner distress, if that was indeed what was causing the tears, Andee looked at Jason, who was watching his grandmother, apparently ready to help if needed.

‘Now where were we?’ Norma asked, sitting back in her chair. ‘Oh that’s right, why did I tell Sean about Victor when I did? Well, I guess we have to put that down to this one,’ she said, nodding towards Jason. ‘After his mother ran off and left him when he was twelve and Sean brought him here to me, I got to realise that in their different ways they both needed more than me and what was missing for Sean, most of all, was a father. I’d done my best, I really had, but I couldn’t fool myself any longer. Sean wasn’t the kind of man I’d hoped he’d be, and I had to accept that the cause of his problems might well have been growing up without a father to teach him the rights and wrongs of the world. I felt sure in my heart that Victor was a good man who’d want to do right by his son and grandson, but even so, I still didn’t come clean right away. I thought about it for a long time and prayed for guidance. I was afraid, I suppose, that it wouldn’t
work out the way I hoped, and now, with the benefit of hindsight, we know I was right to be afraid. I never dreamt it would go the way it did, with Victor ending up in hospital and Sean being arrested on the way back for drunk-driving. I didn’t actually know he’d been to see Victor then, he didn’t tell me for several weeks, and I’m still not sure if I ever got the whole story. I remember telling myself that if it had been as serious as Sean was making out the police would have come to find him. But no one did, and even though I knew I should be in touch to make sure Victor was all right, I told myself that if he wanted any more contact with Sean he’d do it in his own time, not in mine. I guess you could accuse me of burying my head in the sand, or not wanting to believe the worst of my son in spite of knowing he was capable of some terrible things when he was drunk. And there was Jason to think of too. Life was difficult enough for the lad trying to get over the way his mother had just upped and gone – she used to ring from time to time, but she never came to see him, or invited him to go and visit her. It was a difficult time, and it was all my fault. I knew that then and I know it now. If I’d allowed Victor – and you – to be a part of Sean’s life he’d be a very different person today.’

Rowzee was gazing at Sean’s glinting thatch of hair and silvery blue eyes as she said, ‘Jason told us it was a hit-and-run driver.’

Norma nodded. ‘We have our suspicions who was behind it, but we can’t go to the police without creating even more problems for ourselves. You see, Sean had got in with the wrong kind of people. He told me
before this happened that they were following him and he was afraid, but there was nothing I could do. It was drugs; he was selling them and spending what he got on booze instead of handing it over to the dealers. I only found out after, while he was still in hospital, and they came to see me.’ She sighed sadly. ‘It was a terrible time. The gangsters – and believe me, they were gangsters – came here wanting money a few weeks after it happened. I was afraid they might do something to harm Jason if I didn’t pay up, so I raised the money the only way I could and sold my shop. Luckily it got rid of them.’

‘You should have to come to us, we’d have helped you,’ Rowzee told her with feeling.

With a smile Norma said, ‘I think I knew that, and I was going to get in touch, but then I heard on the news that Victor had died and it seemed just plain wrong to ask for your help when you were going through your own difficult time.’

Rowzee’s eyes were solemn and earnest as she said, ‘I’d like to help now. So if there’s anything you need . . .’

‘Not me,’ Norma interrupted gently. ‘I’m fine, so’s Sean, in his way. He’s got his mum to take care of him, but it’s not right for Jason to be . . .’

‘Nan, you promised,’ Jason interrupted.

‘I know, my love, but you can’t go on wasting your life here, trying to make things easier for me when there’s a whole world of universities and opportunities out there you should be taking advantage of.’

‘I don’t want to. I’m all right here.’

Rowzee’s eyes moved between the two, as though she might get involved, but in the end all she said to Norma was, ‘Do you have help from social services?’

‘Actually, they’re pretty good,’ Norma admitted. ‘Someone comes in twice a week so I can go to work in the shop. I enjoy it, it’s a busy place and it gets me out for a few hours.’

‘Is that where you do your readings?’ Rowzee wondered.

‘Sometimes. I’ve got a small room here as well.’

After taking this in, Rowzee said, ‘Maybe I could help pay for some private nursing?’

‘Oh, no, no,’ Norma protested. ‘If you want to help Jason that’s fine . . .’

‘I’m not going anywhere,’ Jason informed her belligerently. ‘He’s as much my dad as he’s your son, so if I want to look after him too that’s up to me.’

Though Andee might have wondered how Sean had managed to earn himself so much love and loyalty, she could see from the photos around the place of a very young Jason with a very different Sean that there had definitely been a bond once.

Since there seemed to be a bit of a stand-off over Rowzee’s offer to help, Andee ventured to say, ‘Can I suggest you all take some time to think things over before you reach any decisions?’

After agreeing that this was the most sensible course Rowzee turned to Andee, seeming unsure of what to do next.

Before Andee could speak Norma was getting to her feet. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said, ‘but I have to see to Sean.’

‘It’s OK, I’ll do it Nan,’ Jason offered, getting up too.

Realising from the odour that had begun seeping into the musky scent of incense that the poor man must have soiled himself, Andee said, ‘Rowzee and I ought to be going. I need to be somewhere.’

With a smile, Norma said, ‘Of course.’ She watched as Rowzee walked over to Sean and stooped to take his hand.

‘I’m sorry this has happened to you,’ Rowzee whispered shakily. ‘So very sorry.’

There was no reaction from Sean, but she waited anyway, as though expecting it to take some time. In the end, she stood up and turned to embrace Norma.

‘Thank you for coming,’ Norma murmured against Rowzee’s feathery hair.

‘I’m glad I did,’ Rowzee replied.

Still holding her Norma closed her eyes, and frowned, and for one awful moment Andee was afraid she might be trying to contact someone on the other side. Or perhaps someone there was trying to reach her.
Dear God, don’t let it be Victor.

Seeming unfazed, Rowzee waited and gazed expectantly into Norma’s face until eventually Norma said, ‘You have a dog?’

Rowzee blinked. ‘No.’

Norma simply shrugged. ‘I thought maybe you did.’

 

For a long time after she and Andee had driven away from Norma’s bungalow, Rowzee said nothing. The shock of finding Victor’s son in such a debilitated state was still resonating profoundly with her, speaking
to her in ways she couldn’t articulate, only feel. The empathy was like nothing she’d ever known before; the frustration of being unable to reach him, of not knowing how he felt, if he needed to speak, if he wanted to stay as he was simply to remain alive, was so intense it was making her light-headed.

One day, perhaps sooner rather than later, there was every chance she was going to be like that, unable to act for herself, or communicate her needs, or even recognise those she loved. Someone would have to wash and feed her, put her to bed and get her up in the morning. She wondered if Sean did recognise those he loved, if not by sight then by voice or even some kind of extra-sensory perception. Surely to God he didn’t want to be as he was, but even if he were desperate to die he couldn’t tell anyone. He was being kept alive because medical science had made it possible, not because it was right or what he wanted, if anyone even knew what that was. He could be locked up inside himself, unable to make his voice, his hands, his eyes, or his brain function in a way that could help him to escape the misery and ignominy of a living death.

Feeling absolutely certain now that she must press ahead with her plans to go to Zurich, and soon, probably in the next two to three weeks while the steroids were still working, she refused to allow herself to feel afraid or upset. She simply thought of Sean and what she’d just seen of his tragic existence and his family’s devotion. All her instincts were telling her that Victor had been in that room today, showing her his son, and reminding her that it didn’t have to be that way for her.
He’d be waiting with Edward when she got to the other side, and everyone she loved on this side would understand, once she’d written it all down for them, why she’d chosen to go the way she had.

Eventually breaking the silence, Andee said, ‘That was harder than you were expecting?’

Rowzee didn’t deny it. ‘But it’s helped to clarify some things too,’ she said, wondering fleetingly if she could ask Norma to go to Zurich with her. She was such a gentle and soothing person, exactly the right sort of presence to help her on her way. But of course it was supremely selfish to think of putting such a burden on dear Norma when she already had so much to contend with. And the last thing she’d need was Rowzee’s family blaming her in some way for Rowzee’s own decision.

‘I wonder why she thought you had a dog,’ Andee commented.

Rowzee frowned. ‘I’ve no idea,’ she replied, ‘but I’ve just remembered that I’m going to be looking after my niece’s dog for the next couple of weeks. I wonder if she was meaning him.’

Chapter Thirteen
 

Graeme looked up from the auction site he was browsing as Pamela bustled in through the shop door with her arms full of carrier bags from some of Kesterly’s most expensive boutiques.

‘Have you heard from Rowzee?’ she demanded with no preamble, while dropping her shopping on an elegant mahogany and ivory silk chaise longue.

‘I wasn’t really expecting to yet,’ he replied. ‘Were you?’

‘I just thought she might have called to keep us in the picture. No word from Andee either, I take it?’

Shaking his head, he nodded towards her bags. ‘Robbed a bank?’ he teased.

‘Actually, most of it’s for Rowzee and the girls. I thought they could do with a treat.’ She took out her phone to check for messages. ‘Are you worried?’ she asked.

‘You mean about Rowzee? I wasn’t.’

‘How can you say that when you know she hasn’t been herself lately – all these dizzy spells and headaches, and I wouldn’t be a bit surprised if they’re worse
than she’s admitting to. You need to talk to her about seeing the doctor. Hello Blake, gosh they’re pretty,’ she declared, admiring the mid-century Murano glass candlesticks he was bringing through from the workshop. ‘I think Rowzee would like these, Graeme, don’t you? Shall I get them for her?’

‘I’m afraid they’re already sold,’ Blake told her, ‘but we can always look out for more.’

‘Yes, I think you should,’ she decided. ‘They’re just her type of thing. And this chaise longue is beautiful. I think she should have that too.’

‘Pamela? What’s going on?’ Graeme asked firmly.

Wide-eyed, she said, ‘Going on? In what way?’

‘All these gifts. No one has a birthday, and Christmas is still a long way off.’

‘I’m just feeling generous, that’s all. I hope it’s allowed.’

‘Of course. It’s just . . . unusual.’

‘For me, you mean. Well, I’ve decided to change. Life’s too short to stay cross all the time, or to go on beating about the bush when something needs to be said. On which subject, what are you doing about Andee?’

Taken aback, he said, ‘What kind of question is that?’

‘A direct one. We all know you two had something going a while ago, and she’s single again now so . . .’

‘That’s enough,’ he cut in sharply. ‘You might have given up being cross, but I see bossy is still featuring large.’

Pamela was about to respond when the door opened behind her and Frankie, the post lady, came in with the mail.

‘Recorded delivery for you,’ she told Blake, while handing the rest of the envelopes and magazines to Graeme.

As Blake took the large package addressed to him, Graeme saw him look curiously at the brown-paper wrapping tied up with string.

‘What is it?’ Pamela prompted, seeming to sense some kind of change in the atmosphere.

‘There’s only one way to find out,’ Blake replied, and cutting the string, he tore open the wrapping to find a large shoebox inside. As he removed the lid his face turned white with shock.

‘Oh my goodness,’ Pamela murmured. ‘Is it real?’

Blake looked at Graeme who looked at him.

‘Who’s it from?’ Graeme asked.

‘I’ve no idea,’ Blake replied, searching for a card or a note.

‘How much is there?’ Pamela asked.

Blake looked at Graeme again.

‘I’ll call Andee,’ Graeme said, and picking up the phone he pressed in her mobile number.

 

‘Are you sure you’ll be all right here?’ Andee was asking Rowzee as she settled her down on the terrace of Dittisham’s Anchor Stone café. It was right next to the wonderfully romantic River Dart with plenty of boats and people going by, so full of life, but not so busy as to make it a disconcerting place to be.

‘I’ll be fine,’ Rowzee promised. ‘I just need to have a little time to myself, that’s all, and if Jenny doesn’t know
I’m with you she won’t be expecting me to come in.’

Though relieved at being able to see Jenny Leonard alone, Andee couldn’t help being concerned about Rowzee, for the visit to Victor’s son had clearly shaken her up quite a lot.

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