The Songbird and the Soldier (21 page)

Andy could not find the words he needed to say. He couldn’t bring himself to ask what he desperately needed to know. He was afraid. His mouth moved in silence as his eyes spoke volumes. Kate invited him to sit and he did as he was told. Cots and pushchairs and soft toys littered the living room. He moved a couple of fresh muslins to one side.

“You’ve read them, haven’t you?”

Andy nodded and searched her face for the forgiveness he so desperately needed.

“Right.” She shook her head sadly. “What a bloody waste.”

Andy looked her in the eye, his mouth ajar.

“You want to know everything?”

He nodded. “Yes.”

“It’s lymphoma. I don’t know much about it, but it’s a type of cancer.”

Andy felt the pain soar.

“They’ve only just found it and it’s big. They’ve started her on some treatment, but…” Briefly she let her head hang down and then rallied her courage and looked him in the face, more kindly now.

“But she will be okay?” Andy asked.

Kate smiled sadly. For a long moment she said nothing. “They don’t know.”

For a few minutes neither of them spoke. In the distance, Andy could hear the floorboards creaking in a rhythmical pattern and the muffled whimpers of baby Ellen, obviously fighting against sleep with every ounce of energy she had left in her.

“So how did she leave it?” Kate asked. “Did she tell you to go to Hell?”

Andy looked up from where his face rested in his hands and he took a deep breath. He shook his head.

“No. I thought not. And another man?”

“No.”

“So are you going to go and see her?” Kate asked.

Andy frantically searched the floor at his feet, his face twisted in torment. “How can I, Kate?”

“Sam’s in there fighting for her life. You of all people should know how hard that is. You can’t let her keep believing you don’t care. Go to her, Andy. She needs you.” She paused for a second and then added, “before it’s too late.”

Andy turned on her suddenly. “Don’t you dare say that.”

Kate matched his tempo. “Well I’m sorry, but it had to be said. I really hope it doesn’t come to that – I love the girl, you know I do – but you haven’t seen her, Andy.” Kate’s eyes began to glisten with fresh tears, but she bit them back and kept herself strong. Her voice softened. “You haven’t seen her.”

Spike walked back into the room and immediately asked Kate if she was all right. Kate sniffed and dabbed at her eyes. “Fine, love. Thanks,” she said. “How’s Ellen?”

Spike walked through to the kitchen and grabbed a beer from the fridge. “Sleeping.”

Andy stood up. “I’d better go,” he said. Spike walked back in and saw Andy to the door.

“She’s on Sherborne Ward,” Kate said as he turned to thank her. “Think about it, please, Andy. She needs you.”

Andy looked at her and then at Spike.

Kate went to say something more, but Spike put a hand on her shoulder to stop her. “Let him go,” he said. He nodded at Andy and then he closed the front door and pulled Kate against him and held her for the longest time.

By morning Andy was like a caged animal, restless and tortured. He paced the living room, trying to figure out what he should do. What could he do? He had slept little overnight and it showed. His eyes were haunted, shadowy creatures in a restless face. He was clean shaven and his clothing pressed and as smart as it had always been, but this thin veneer of daily routine in no way hid the turmoil that battled inside him.

By nine he had already been out for a run, showered and changed. He sat in his living room and stared into space, desperately seeking the right words to say when he met her again.

At ten o’clock he rang the hospital ward and asked for the visiting hours. The next one was two till three that afternoon. Four more hours to fill.

He began watching the clock like a man on death row and suddenly it hit him what he should do. He fetched over his laptop and looked up everything he could find out about lymphomas. By half past one he was armed with all the knowledge he could take in and had worn his carpet to threads. He checked his appearance in the long mirror by the door and walked out to unlock his bike then cycled off into town to the hospital and his only hope of redemption.

He arrived early and decided to prepare himself on a small area of garden with a couple of benches he found beside the car park. People with serious faces passed him by. He thought about how he was going to greet her. What he was going to say? Perhaps she would refuse to see him. He wouldn’t blame her if she did. He took a few deep breaths and thought that if he had the choice of going back to the front line, or facing Sam right now, he would not have to think twice. The enemy, in whatever guise it could choose, had never been so terrifying as facing her right then. He stood tall, straightened his clothing and then strode off purposefully toward the entrance to the building.

At the door to the ward, Andy paused, and for a second he thought he was going to walk away. A patient walked past in her dressing gown, drip stand wheeling by her side. She smiled and Andy was stilled in his retreat. From beside him, a man appeared. “Going in?” he asked.

“Er, yes, sir.” He looked down and realised the man was pushing a frail looking woman in a wheelchair.

“You need to press the button up there.” He pointed to the intercom on the wall and Andy did as he was told. A lady’s voice spoke out. Andy told her his name and that he was visiting Samantha Litton, and then the porter leaned over and spoke too. The door buzzed and they walked in. Andy walked up the ward looking, despite himself, at the faces of the patients on each side of him. Through every window a tale unfolded. The smell of the hospital, which had pervaded his senses up until this point, was heightened as he turned the corner.

He arrived at the nurses’ station like a little boy lost and quietly asked for directions. The nurse asked him to wait where he was while she went to see if Sam was up to receiving visitors. Andy waited and watched the comings and goings of the ward as he held his breath in anticipation.

A few minutes later she returned and led him down the corridor to where a man was waiting. “This is Mr Litton, Sam’s father. Can I leave you with him?” Andy nodded and thanked her and she swept away to see to her business. Andy turned to Mr Litton, who offered his hand and introduced himself.

“You’ve come to see Samantha?” Mr Litton asked.

“Yes, sir. If that’s all right?”

“Can I ask how you know her?”

“I’m a friend, or at least I was.” Andy searched hard for the right words to say. “We… I was in Afghanistan last summer and…”

“You’re Andy?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Walk with me, would you?” Mr Litton escorted Andy down the corridor to a quiet room with no one else around. “Would you like to sit?”

“No, thank you.” Andy was too anxious to be still. “I didn’t know whether to come, whether she would want to see me again.”

“I only know a little about what happened between you two last summer. I realise that something went wrong and I have no idea who was to blame. But I know she cared about you, a lot I expect. What reason do you have to think she wouldn’t want to see you now?”

Andy took a deep breath. “I let her down.” Mr Litton said nothing, only waited to see what more Andy had to say. “It was all a complete mess. She tried to apologise, she did, but I wasn’t in a good place after I got back. It’s no excuse, I know, but that’s just how it was. She wrote to me… for months.”

“Well then?

“But I never wrote back.”

He seemed to consider this for a minute. “Why not?”

“At first I think it was self-preservation. I had to block her out to get through, but in the end? Stubbornness… and pride. You have to understand, it has been the thought of her that has kept me going for so long.” He pointed to his head. “In here, she was… perfect. She could never do anything wrong.”

“That’s a hard mark for anyone to live up to.”

“I know. And when she eventually did make a mistake… I couldn’t deal with it. I couldn’t forgive her.” Andy hung his head.

“But you have now?”

Andy moistened his lips. He paused for a moment. “Last night a good friend forced me to read Sam’s letters, and I did. All of them. Several times, in fact. They forced me to take a long hard look at myself and my own flaws.” He shook his head. “I didn’t like what I saw.” Andy looked up, his eyes pleading for one last chance. “Sam may not be perfect, Mr Litton, but she’s a Hell of a lot closer to it than I am. I…” His voice trailed off.

“Well, I’ll certainly ask her for you. Let’s just see what she says, eh? You do know how poorly she is, don’t you?”

“I think so. Kate came to see me.”

“Ah. She’s a good girl, Kate. Well she’s been off for radiotherapy this morning, so she’s very tired now, but I’ll see if she’s up to seeing you.” He put his hand on Andy’s shoulder. “Come on.”

Andy was left alone outside the room while Mr Litton went in to see Sam. He felt a little calmer. Her father had heard his confession and was still willing to let him in. There had to be some hope.

He watched through the glass as inside the room Mr Litton whispered to his wife and she turned around and mustered a smile. She leaned over and talked gently to the young woman lying in the bed in front of them, and Andy’s heart rate quickened. Then Mrs Litton turned round and beckoned him in. Andy walked inside and Sam turned to look at him. He had tried to prepare himself for seeing her again, but the thin, pale face and enigmatic smile that greeted him was almost more than he could stand. He hid his pity as best he could and smiled back. She was still the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. “Hello, Sam.”

Mr Litton offered the chair on the far side of the bed and Andy slowly walked around and sat down. The pale blue covers were undisturbed by her quiet form. He reached out to touch her delicate hand and noticed the bracelet dangling loosely around her wrist. Regret pierced his side and his heart squeezed harder. It was the gift he had given her the previous summer, when she meant everything to him and he to her. She was his songbird and he was her soldier. He looked up into her eyes and was immediately engulfed in the tide of love that swept through him. But did she feel it too? Andy could only hope.

Sam was unsure why Andy had come to see her. She tried to smile, but her body trembled. She must look terrible, she thought. She had lost so much weight since he had last seen her. Her hair was lank and unkempt and she was wearing, of all things, her comfy old puppy pyjamas. Had one of the girls forced him to come? Did he resent being here? “You’re here,” she whispered, wishing more than anything that she had had time to prepare for his arrival. He had been through so much more than her and he still looked good.

Andy gently touched the thin strand of gold lying across her wrist. “I had to. I hope it’s okay?”

Sam fought the urge to throw herself at his feet and beg for forgiveness. She didn’t know what had prompted him to come. He had not yet said anything to give her hope, but he was there. “As long as you haven’t come to tell me off. I’m not sure I’m up to that at the moment. I’m a bit under the weather.”

Andy laughed and squeezed her hand. “If anyone deserves a telling off, it would be me.”

Mr and Mrs Litton stood up. “We’ll leave you two to it for a bit, okay?”

Sam nodded, grateful for the time alone. They looked back at each other and then Andy spoke. “I don’t know where to begin. I’ve thought about what to say to you over and over again, but now I’m actually here and you’re in front of me, I’m…”

“I’m sorry,” Sam said.

“No, don’t. I didn’t deserve you. I behaved so badly toward you. How can you ever forgive me?”

Sam tried to sit herself up a little and Andy jumped up to try and help her. She rested back, exhausted. “You didn’t do anything.”

Andy shook his head. “I know. That’s exactly it; I did nothing. All those letters you wrote to me… I never read them. Not one.”

Sam was a little disappointed, but not surprised. “Yes. I guessed as much. Probably for the best. They were a load of rubbish anyway.”

“No. You’re wrong. I read them last night. All of them. I read them all twice over, some of them more. I was a fool, Sam. I realise that now.”

“What made you read them after all this time?”

“Kate. She finally managed to knock some sense into me. I’ve been too wrapped up in my own problems to see clearly.”

Sam smiled. “I know. The lengths a person has to go to to get any attention round here. It’s ridiculous.”

Andy shook his head in dismay. “I’m so sorry.”

“You’re here now.” She squeezed his strong, warm hand. “A bit late, maybe, but…”

“Yeah, well you know how it is, I’ve been busy.” His face fell serious again. “How did you do it, Sam? All that time with no reply. How did you find the strength to keep writing?”

Sam thought for a second. “I had to show you I wasn’t going to give up on you again, even if I heard nothing. I had to prove it to myself, really. I just hoped that one day you would see that and understand.” A tear welled up in her eye and trickled down her cheek to the pillow beneath.

“Shhh. Don’t cry. I can’t bear to see you cry.” He wiped the tear away. “I’ve missed you so much, Sam. I can’t think how I managed without you all this time.”

“You did just fine. The returning hero, remember?”

Andy gave her a look. “No. Tina was right all along: I wasn’t really living.”

Sam smiled warmly at him. She understood what he meant. She had suffered along with him. “How have you been, really?”

Andy leaned down and knocked on his artificial leg. “Well I’m not up for any marathons yet, but I’m getting there.”

“And everything else?” she asked, pointing to the scars on his face and arm.

“Well, yes, the modelling career does seem to have dried up, but I get by. I think my days as a gigolo are over, though.” He winked.

“Oh, I don’t know. I’m sure there are plenty of women-”

“I don’t want any other women.” Andy looked at her for a long moment and then leaned slowly down to her and kissed her. Tears began to well up and flow down Sam’s face again, the relief she felt at the emotional reunion had a dramatic effect on her delicate state.

“Oh, God, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have…”

Sam smiled. “No. No. I’m glad you did. I’m just tired, I’m sorry. I get tearful very easily at the moment.”

“Should I go? Would that be for the best?” Andy asked.

“Don’t you dare.” Sam held on to his hand with all of her strength.

“There’s been so much wasted time, Sam. Tell me if it’s too late, but I would really love to see you again. I promise I won’t let you down.” He pulled her picture out from his wallet. “Look. Kate gave me this.”

Sam looked at the picture and smiled at baby Ellen. “I looked a bit better then. I’m not in such great shape now. Are you sure you wouldn’t like to reconsider?”

Andy shook his head. “You look great to me. I… I love you, Sam. I always have. It’s as simple as that. You came to me when I was going through Hell and I turned you away.” Sam opened her mouth to object, but Andy stopped her. “Let me love you, please.”

Sam was in heaven. She had no right to be there, but she was nonetheless. “I’m not in Hell,” she said. “Not anymore.”

Andy stroked her wrist. “I mean it, Sam. I want to be with you.” Sam held out her arms for a hug and Andy went willingly. He sat back. “So, how’s the food in here?” he asked.

Sam was relieved at the ease with which they had seemingly slipped back into each other’s lives and it was still hard to believe after all they had been through. They talked a little about Andy’s recovery and kept to the lighter side of their days spent alone, then before they knew it, Sam’s parents were back and their time was over.

Andy looked as his watch and then at Sam’s parents, not moving an inch from Sam’s side. The two of them smiled back at him. Andy turned to look at Sam. “You never did tell me your middle name,” she said, leaving him in no doubt that she was definitely expecting satisfaction.

He leant back down again. “Peter,” he said.

Sam was confused. “Peter? Is that it? Really? But why all the mystery?”

Andy smiled. “It kept you writing.”

Sam chuckled. God, she loved this man. She was very reluctant to let him go. She implored him to stay with her eyes, but Andy smiled down at her, kissed her on the forehead and withdrew his hand. “I’d better go, or they may not let me back in tomorrow.”

These words were great comfort to Sam. He would be back tomorrow. He had to go, but he was coming back. She looked at his face for the reassurance she needed and Andy leant down to kiss her again. His lips hovered near her face. “I’ll see you tomorrow, beautiful,” he said.

Sam nodded and he walked around the bed, pausing briefly to say goodbye to Sam’s parents by the door and then looking back at Sam, he winked and then walked away. Sam was exhausted, but happier than she had been in a long time. He had said that he loved her. After everything that had happened, he still loved her. And after saying goodbye to her parents until later that evening, Sam slipped off into a peaceful sleep.

Andy stepped outside into blazing sunshine and walked for almost an hour, not caring where he went. He would not be caged in such an emotional state and the day was dry and warm and crammed full of promise. Only when he was at ease with himself did he find his way back to the hospital and his black and red bike and cycled home. There was much to do and Kate deserved to be told.

Kate was out when Andy arrived back home, so he got changed into his sports gear and went round to the gym to work out. He worked harder than usual in the hope that he could take his mind off Sam’s plight for a short while, but all it achieved was exhaustion and further frustration.

Dean walked in and sat down at one of the benches. The two regarded each other with cool disdain. Dean began to pull on the weights as Andy sat there, a towel slung round his neck, drinking water from a bottle and catching his breath. Minutes passed before Dean finally showed his colours. “How’s the love life then, Prof?”

Andy’s body suddenly found sharp focus for his anger. He launched himself from where he was sitting, not giving a thought to his new leg, and pummelled the tormentor in front of him. Fists slammed into flesh and bone as splatters of blood flew out from the fray. It wasn’t more than a couple of minutes before the fight was broken up by some other lads who wandered in and found the two trying to kill each other. Dean started to spit fire at Andy for being out of his mind, but Andy just wrenched himself free and stormed out to cool off.

The following evening Andy was back at Sam’s side. The weather was warm and still, but high up in her room, the curtains found a delicate breeze and danced happily with it. Apologies were no longer wanted from either side. They talked about their friends, about Kate and Ellen and about how much Humphrey was enjoying being spoiled by Sam’s mum’s neighbour. They even discussed the poetry Sam had read and her favourite parts. Sam asked Andy what had happened to cause such a nasty bruise at the corner of his left eye, but he told her it was just a low signpost he had walked into. She did not know of the many sores and bruising that went unseen beneath the veil of his clothing, of the pain that ceased to bother him when he was with her.

Kate turned up, but not for long. She had cadged a lift in with a friend, who was kindly sitting in the car park watching Ellen while she popped up to see Sam. Kate was pleased to see Sam looking happier, even if she did still look incredibly frail. She winked at Andy on her way out. He opened the door for her and she mouthed a ‘thank you’ to him. Andy stopped her with his hand. “No. Thank you,” he said and a look of understanding passed between them. Kate smiled and walked away.

The following day, Sam took a turn for the worse. Her breathing had been a problem all day and by mid-afternoon she was fitted with some nasal specs for oxygen. More drugs were added to her long list of medicines and her parents stayed close by her side.

Sam watched the clock. She knew Andy would be coming in at some point and as the afternoon visiting had already been and gone, it couldn’t be that much longer before he would be with her.

She was frightened. She could take the pain and discomfort that she was having thrown at her on a daily basis, but her breathing was not good and she knew it. If only Andy would come, she thought, she could face anything. His strength buoyed her up. Her parents, she could see, were as scared as she was, but they were valiantly doing their best to hide it. She concentrated on the pattern on the curtain opposite. It was pale blue, like the bedding, with a pattern of leaves running through it. She tried to focus on calm, regular breaths, but it felt like she really needed to take a deep breath and she couldn’t. Just a little more time, she thought. ‘Come on, Andy, I need you.’

And then he came.

Mr Litton greeted Andy at the door and whispered to him. Andy looked across and Sam tried her best to smile. He smiled back and she held out a hand and patted the bed. Andy nodded to Mr Litton and walked around the bed to sit down. He took her hand and held it in his. He kissed it and then looked into her eyes.

“Hello, Beautiful. Are you misbehaving again?” he said.

Sam wanted to cry out with joy. The fear that had built up inside her throughout the day brimmed over and the relief of seeing him again forced a solitary tear to trickle down her cheek.

“Shhh. I’m here now. I won’t let anything happen to you.” He smiled a gentle smile and wiped the tear from her face. Mr and Mrs Litton did not leave the room that day and so Andy just talked to Sam softly, as best he could, and helped her to drink her water little and often as the oxygen made her throat dry.

“What’s it like out there?” she asked when they had come to a pause in the conversation.

Andy looked out of the window. “It’s a warm summer’s evening,” he said. “Park weather. I think we’re going to have a good summer this year. I’ll take you outside when you’re a bit better. They tell me there is a little garden here somewhere.”

Sam was exhausted. The thought of a stroll through their park on a warm summer’s evening was wonderful, but she was too tired to even imagine it now. The golden sunlight stretched across her pillow and warmed her weary face. She smiled up at Andy and closed her eyes. “Keep talking,” she said. “I am listening.”

Andy looked across at her parents and then back at Sam. He hesitated for a moment and then holding her hand in his, he began to stroke the delicate skin over her knuckles with his thumb and he began again.

“When you’re better I’m going to pick you up around eleven and we can cycle to your old park on our bikes – Yes, I have one too now. You didn’t know that, did you? It’s good for me apparently. The sun is going to shine down on us as we park up our bikes and lift Humphrey out of your basket and plop him down on the ground. He’ll bark at all the butterflies as usual, the silly old mutt, and run round and round while we set out a blanket on the ground for a picnic. We’ll drink old fashioned lemonade and there’ll be fresh strawberries and soft bread rolls with paté. The ducks will be basking on the banks of the pond, their heads folded under their wings and the warm air will be filled with the sound of the bees buzzing lazily around us. We will eat good food and drink until we’re no longer thirsty and I will hold you in my arms and promise you that I’ll never let you go again and you will look at me with your beautiful smiling eyes and promise me that you will always be mine.”

Sam’s hand fell heavy in his and Andy stopped talking. Sam did not move. He opened his hand and her hand did nothing to retain it. He looked across at Sam’s mother, concern flooding his features. Mrs Litton stepped towards the bed and saw Sam was breathing steadily and her colour was good. She put a hand on his shoulder. “She’s worn out, Andy. Let her sleep a while. It’s been tough on her today.” So he stayed with her as long as he could, holding her hand in his, but she did not wake up again and so with his spirit crushed, he left her in the care of her parents that night and walked out of the hospital and into the rain on that beautiful summer evening.