183 Times a Year (39 page)

Cassie walks straight past me towards Scott, tears flowing freely down her cheeks.

‘
Mum might die,' she says in a voice that is now calm but filled with heartache. ‘Mum might die and I just wanted my Dad, it's that simple. After all this time, all the disappointment you've put me through, I still wanted you. You! I don't want your money or to live with you, I just needed to know that somewhere there is a place for me with you. But there isn't is there? You never were and never will be there for me will you? And for the first time in my life, I actually understand – it's not me, it's you. I'm done Dad. Finished. Simon's my real Dad. I don't ever want to see you again.'

Chapter 36

REMORSE

CASSIE

‘I'm sorry Cassie,' Simon says again briefly looking at me before turning back to concentrate on the road ahead. He has one hand on the steering wheel, the other holding a manky tissue I found in the bottom of my bag, which he holds on the cut above his eye.

‘Its fine Simon, honest.' I know he feels well bad but I don't want him to. The truth is Dad deserved everything he just got.

‘I didn't plan to go there and beat your Dad up you know?' Simon continues explaining as if he hasn't heard me. ‘I was hoping … well, I thought if I talked to him he'd come to the hospital for you and Connor …'

‘I know Simon, I understand, really I do. It's fine. I don't love you any less or anything.' Simon turns to look at me again and smiles. It's a lovely, familiar smile but his eyes don't follow suit. Like mine, they're so, so sad.

‘How did you get to your Dad's anyway?'

‘I followed you in a taxi. I had a suspicion you were going to Dad's.' Simon sort of laughs and shakes his head.

‘You're just like your Mum,' he says. ‘No flies on you eh?'

Flies? I'm confused. Why would I, or Mum for that matter, have flies on us?

Somehow it doesn't feel right to ask so I decide not to right now. ‘Yeah,' I say, also sort of laughing. ‘No flies on me.'

When we get back to the hospital Nan, Grandad and Connor are still waiting where we left them but Maisy has gone out for some fresh air apparently. More like nicotine laced air. Grandad looks at the cut above Simon's eye. He raises his hand as if to point and opens his mouth to speak. Nan steps forward and places her hand on Grandads arm and squeezes it. Grandad closes his mouth again.

‘She's still in surgery,' Nan says. ‘The doctors said they would come and speak to us again in a while. Oh and I phoned Ruby and she's on her way over too,' she adds.

Mum and Ruby are still not speaking but I've still been texting and Facebooking with her. I knew she'd come. I'm glad she is coming. She can take up some of the slack from Nan and Simon for a while. They're trying to keep it all together for the rest of us but they both look shattered.

My phone hasn't stopped – some calls but mostly texts. Some telling me to keep my chin up, or stay strong or be positive, others just asking me how I am. Pheebs has even offered to get on the bus with Nancy and come to the hospital, which was like well sweet of her but I said no coz Nancy, the baby, is only two weeks old. I really thought Joe would come to support me and everything, but he just said to call him when I get home. Which was sweet – sort of – I suppose?

Maisy is back, reeking, as I suspected, of fags.

‘Look who I found skulking about outside,' she says. As she moves away Luke hovers reluctantly behind her.

‘I … erm … I … ummm,' he says looking nervously at me. ‘I thought I could perhaps … ummm … be of some help? But maybe I shouldn't have …' He pauses. I'm disappointed it's not Joe but touched nonetheless. I walk towards Luke and hug him.

‘Thanks,' I mumble burying my head into his leather jacket.
I
love the smell of Luke's jacket, it's so familiar. There have been so many times I've lent my head on Luke's shoulder when he's wearing that jacket. Usually when I feel down, usually about Joe.

When I eventually pull myself away from Luke I notice two familiar faces in green onesies walking towards us. My stomach lurches forward and I'm suddenly full of dread again. I try to read the faces of the two surgeons that have been operating on Mum but their faces give nothing away. Someone else, a man, is walking just behind them. He has a small child walking at the side of him and they are holding hands.

‘Okay,' one of the surgeons says. ‘Can you all take a seat please? We need to talk to you.'

I follow their faces, still trying to read them. I feel sick, really sick. Luke squeezes my hand and someone else squeezes the other.

‘Hello Cassie,' the other person says.

‘Hello Dad,' I reply.

Chapter 37

TRYING TO COPE …

CASSIE

‘But Mum doesn't make them like that.'

‘For god's bloody sake Connor stop moaning will you,' I say for at least the hundredth time. ‘I don't bloody care if she doesn't make your sandwiches like this. I do and right now that'll bloody have to do.'

‘But you've made them all weird,' he says, his unbroken voice getting higher and louder with each word.

‘Then you bloody make em,' I shout throwing the knife down. Connor's bottom lip starts to quiver and his eyes fill up.

‘What if …' He begins to say. He pauses and quickly rubs his eyes with his fists. ‘Where will we live if Mum dies Cassie?' he finally blurts out.

I'm floored by his question and just look into his big brown eyes. He like so has Dad's eyes. I know Mum's in a coma and it's been two weeks but I can't allow myself to think of her not being here. Can't and won't. Connor just keeps staring at me waiting for a reply. I stand in stunned silence, also waiting for a reply to come. Words of wisdom to comfort and make us both feel better. Nothing comes though.

‘We can't live with Dad. And Nan and Grandad are too old and Uncle Sean is too poor …'

‘We'll stay here with Simon, stupid.'

‘Really?' he replies, his eyes suddenly huge like Romeow's become when he's about to pounce on something. ‘Even if Mum dies?'

How
can Connor keep saying that word die? I want to punch him in the face but I know he's just frightened. Nan says where there's life there's hope though. So that's what I carry with me each and every day – hope.

‘Of course, you idiot. Simon says we're as much his as Maisy is and besides, Mum will be fine, I'm sure of it.' I'm not really sure though. The truth is, I've never felt so unsure about anything, ever. ‘Anyway, hasn't Grandad asked you to help him make a special lotion or potion or something in his lab to help Mum?' I remind him. Connor's sad face morphs into a huge grin. I'm not really sure what I think of Grandad putting silly ideas into Connor's head but if it gives him hope I suppose it is okay. ‘Right then. Let's finish getting this pack-up made or you'll be late for school.'

Connor continues smiling at me before he throws both his arms around my waist and hugs me. I hug him back, for a few seconds. I can feel my chest tighten with uncertainty and all I really want to do is start screaming and shouting and tell anyone who'll listen it's not fucking fair! But I can't.

‘C'mon loser,' I say pulling myself away from Connor. ‘I'll finish making the sandwiches and you get the rest of the stuff. And not just crisps and chocolate,' I add as he heads towards the snack cupboard. ‘Put some bloody fruit in there too.'

I see Connor off to school then spend half an hour wandering aimlessly around the house. It's been two weeks since Mum was attacked and she's still in a coma. The police are still appealing for witnesses and it's been on the news and in the papers and everything. It sort of doesn't feel real, kind of like it's happening to someone else. I feel like I'm wandering around in a thick foggy haze, my vision smudged, my ears stuffed full of cotton wool balls. I'm trying to act normal, especially in front of Connor, but the truth is I've never felt more abnormal in my whole entire life.

Uncle
Sean came up as soon as he found out. After a week and no sign of Mum waking up we had a bit of a family gathering and it was agreed that someone would visit Mum everyday on like a rota basis but in the meantime everyone should try and get back into some kind of normal routine. Normal? How can anything ever be normal again?

Based on all the medical evidence and blood on the drive it's believed Mum suffered a severe blow to the head. A punch delivered within close range, so brutal and so quick she didn't even stand a chance to defend herself. I feel sick when I think about it. Like
really
sick. Why would someone do that to Mum? Why would anyone want to hurt her like that? I keep picturing her face and how frightened she must have been, and the last words I shouted at her.

Oh my god! Oh my god! I can't breathe. I grab my throat with both my hands and open my mouth, trying to force air in or out – anything to stop me from gasping. My heart beats so loud I swear I can hear every beat and my chest feels heavy, like it's crushing me from the inside out. I'm sure my heart is going to burst through my ribcage in a minute like in those alien films. I want to die. It should be me in a coma coz I'm such a complete and utter bitch.

They say you hurt the one's you love the most and it's true. For as long as I can remember I've tiptoed around Dad, desperate to get his love and approval. And all this time Mum gave me more love and support than any one person deserves, especially me. And all I ever did was take my shit out on her.

‘I'm so sorry Mum,' I whisper. My legs aren't strong enough to hold me and I fall to the floor like a crumpled piece of sheet music. I haven't cried since the first day Mum was admitted to hospital but now, my tears fall easily. Hot salty water stings my eyes and snot runs from my nose into my mouth. As I sit on the floor, eyes closed and sobbing I feel something soft against my
skin.
When I open my eyes I see Romeow. He looks at me and meows and then like, an actual miracle happens. Without any persuasion from me, Romeow climbs onto my lap, curls into a ball and begins to purr. I stroke his soft fur and he meows again. My breathing starts to slow right down. I immediately feel calm again.