183 Times a Year (45 page)

The terrifying thing is I'm adapting to Mum not being around. I know – we all know – the longer she's in a coma the worse the outlook is. I've read everything there is to read at least fifty times over. I probably know more than the bloody Doctors actually. That's why I know it's important to keep talking to Mum when I visit. Lots of ex-coma patients that did recover say they could hear friends and family talking to them when they visited.

I also know if Mum does come out of her coma she could be brain damaged. I'm ashamed to admit it, but I actually think that'd be worse than if she died. She would be dead in a way. I know everyone else thinks the same thing but none of us has the guts to say it.

If someone had told me six months ago though, that I'd be
capable
of contemplating life without Mum I'd have punched their lights out. I still miss her though, so much, every single day. I'm constantly getting my phone out to text Mum. Or I'll sprint up the drive and burst through the front door to tell her something, then I remember she's not there. Sometimes, when I'm scared shitless that I'm forgetting Mum altogether, I ring her phone just to listen to her voice on her answer phone message. I keep Mum's phone constantly charged just so I can hear her, remember the sound of her voice.

I tell Mum everything when I visit her but it's not the same coz she can't give me one of her funny looks. And even though I know she's proud of the good stuff, I can't see it in her face, or hear it in her voice. I took Mum for granted, I know I did. I just didn't realise how much.

I always thought Mum never understood me. Now I know that's so not true. I love how she seemed to steer me, without me even realising it, somehow in the right direction. I miss how a text would come through just when I needed it. Sometimes it was only two or three words but it was always just when I needed something or someone. It was like Mum was psychic or something. I miss her honesty too, even though I didn't always want to hear it.

I wonder if Mum does hear me talking all my crap on my visits with her.

I walk towards the main hospital entrance (it's my turn to visit Mum today) the one I've passed through at least a million times. I catch my reflection in one of the huge glass windows. I stop for a minute, turning my head from left to right, examining my profile. I touch my nose and smile. I
do
like my Roman nose. It's got character.

A man on the other side of the window distracts me from my thinking. For god's bloody sake he's smiling and waving at me. He thinks I'm bloody flirting with him! Eeewwww! What
a
bloody perv. He's like well old, at least 30 years old. Why are all men pervs?

The automatic doors open, then close again before I have chance to walk through them. Something's caught my eye. I could be wrong but I'm pretty sure I've just spotted Nan and Grandad's car in the car park. It looks like their car and it has the same ManGenie air freshener I bought for them, hanging from the rear view mirror.

I smile, remembering the day I bought that air freshener. I chose that one mainly to cheer up Connor coz I know the ManGenie is a character from one of his favourite computer games. A half man, half genie thing that has magical, mystical powers I think? And coz Connor often visits Mum with Nan and Grandad when they drive to the hospital in their car, I thought he could hang it up and it would be something else for him to focus on. But it smelled so good I was actually thinking about keeping it for myself.

On the day I bought it I went to visit Mum at the hospital as usual, and rather unusually everyone was there coz it was Uncle Sean's birthday. I burst through the doors of Mum's room shouting,

‘Oh like my actual god, you lot
so
have to smell my ManGenie.'

I couldn't understand why everyone fell into hysterics, at least not until I thought about what I'd said and how rude it actually sounded. Oh well, at least it made everyone laugh. I wish Grandad would stop shouting out, “Oi Cassie, smell my ManGenie” at every opportunity though. It's like soooo embarrassing.

I wonder why Nan and Grandad are visiting today? They must have decided to drop by too. Unless … oh my god. What if it's nothing to do with Mum? What if it's Nan again? Or no, my mind is racing now – what if it's something bad to do with
Mum?
What if …? What if …?

I suddenly feel a bit panicky. I start to breathe really fast and I swear I can hear the blood pumping through my veins. My phone rings and I jump. I reach into my jacket pocket for it but stupidly drop it coz my hands are all sweaty.

‘Arrrrggghhh!' I shout out loud. It stops ringing. I've missed the call. I scramble to pick my phone up from the floor thanking god it's not broken. I check who it was. Oh, it was only Luke. I check my texts but don't have any new ones. Okay, so no news is good news then?

‘Hey Cassie,' someone shouts. I look up and see Zack and Linda, two of the nurses from Mums ward passing into the opposite corridor. ‘Great gig the other night,' Zack says.

‘Really?' I reply. I'm never really sure if people are being honest or just kind when they say good things about the band.

‘Yeah, really,' he says. ‘Well sick. I've put some feedback on the bands Facebook page. I'll defo be at the next one.'

I smile. ‘Thanks,' I say and feel myself puffing up with pride. ‘I'll tell Mum.' Zack and Linda both look at each other.

‘Haven't you seen your Mum today?' Linda asks.

I can't read the expressions on their faces. ‘No,' I reply cautiously. ‘Why?' They both look at each other again. They're acting weird and suddenly seem in a hurry to go.

‘Okay,' Linda simply says. ‘We'll see ya later.' And with that Linda grabs Zack's arm and drags him off down the corridor. Zack turns back to look at me. I can't read his expression. What is it I can't read in his eyes? I watch them get further away until they are gone.

The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end and my stomach is twisting into tight knots. I feel nervous, like I'm about to perform on stage. I don't understand why. Why do I feel like this? I have a really, really bad feeling and my fear suddenly turns into anger.

I
never gave up on you Mum; a voice screams inside my head, not once, not ever did I give up hope. So don't you dare give up on me?

I'm rubbish at running but my feet are carrying me so fast I'm at the entrance to Mum's ward before I know it. I stop, staring at the doors that are now as familiar to me as my own front door. People are coming and going, a sea of faces, some recognisable, some not – but still I stand, frozen to the spot. Tony the Italian cleaner swings through the doors that hold me mesmerised.

‘Cassie,' he calls. I look at him but don't respond. ‘You going to see your Mamma, yes?' he asks. I hardly dare breathe, never mind speak. I nod my head as he reaches across to me and squeezes my arm. Then he's gone.

What? What was that supposed to mean the voice inside my head screams? Oh my god, I know Mum has only been with us in body these last months but her spirit's been here, I know it has. I've felt her. No one else believes me but I know her eyes flickered that morning I came to see her all those months ago, when Simon left me to talk to her while he got a coffee. I told Mum I was sorry and I know she heard me coz her eyes moved. It was only for a split second but they opened, I know her eyes opened. I've managed without you Mum but you can't leave us. You just can't. We've got too much to talk about, too much to do.

I don't remember walking through the doors but now I'm walking along the corridor towards Mum's room. Everyone's staring at me. I can feel eyes on me from everywhere but I can't face looking at them all. If this is bad why didn't anyone call me?

Oh no! No, no, no! Someone's sitting on a chair outside Mum's room. It's a man and he's hunched forward with his head down. As I get closer I realise it's Simon. He doesn't make a
sound
but he's crying. I know he's crying coz his shoulders are moving up and down. Oh my god, I want to scream but I can't. I physically can't find my voice for a minute. If Simon is crying then this really is bad news coz I've never seen him cry – well, only once, sort of, at Andy's funeral. But not once for Mum. I kneel down next to Simon and lift his face to look at mine. His features are all screwed up and he won't look at me but his face is stained with tears. I grab him by the arms and shake him really hard.

‘What?' I yell, ‘What is it Simon?'

He takes a deep breath before exhaling really slowly. He turns away from me, placing his head in his hands again, hunched over like Ossie Moto or whatever the bloody name of the Hunchback of Notre Dame is. Oh my god, I swear I'm going to throw up right here, right now. I can manage without you Mum but I don't want to. Oh no, please no. Why was I such a bitch to her? Mum will never, ever know how much I love her.

I try to stand up but my legs feel really weak and my head's like all fuzzy. This can't be it can it? Why? Why give me six months of hope and nothing to show for it? My chest is starting to hurt. I swear my heart is breaking. I suddenly think of Ruby. Poor, poor Ruby, so this is how she feels.

I don't know how but I manage to stagger up. My head falls forward, suddenly too heavy for my shoulders and my hands are trembling. I place my shaky hand on the silver door handle and push it down to open the door. My heart is beating so fast and so loud it drowns out all the other sounds around me. Please Mum, I still have hope. Please don't leave me, we still have too much to do together. I take a deep breath, lift my head back up and walk in.

I stand and stare in complete and utter silence, amazed that my legs are still holding me up. I can't believe it; I can't believe my eyes. There isn't a part of my body that isn't shaking as my
tears
fall freely and silently. Connor, who is sitting on the bed with Nan and Grandad turns to look at me.

‘Cassie,' he yells. ‘It worked, it worked! Grandads special lotion, it actually worked. Look, Mum's awake.'

Mum turns to look at me. She smiles. She really smiles. It's such a wonderful thing to see. I know whatever happens I'll always hold that smile in my heart forever.

Connor has jumped off the bed and is standing beside me. ‘Don't cry Cas,' he says. ‘It's okay. Mum's awake; you won't have to worry so much about me now.'

Through my tears and snot I somehow manage to smile at Connor. He takes my hand and leads me really gently over to the bed, over to Mum.

‘Cassie,' is all she says, but what a beautiful sound. I wrap my arms around Mum and hold onto her. I can't, won't ever, be able to explain to anyone how I feel right now. Nothing, not even the words of a song, will ever explain how I feel at this moment in time; the – by far – best moment of my whole entire life.

I eventually pull myself away from Mum and look at her. ‘SHIT, BUGGER, FUCK and ARSEHOLE,' she shouts. ‘Oh,okay!' I reply, slightly confused.

To my astonishment everyone starts laughing. Nan then goes on to explain that Mum has actually been coming out of her coma for the last couple of days and at the moment she is suffering from PTA which means post-traumatic amnesia. Inappropriate behaviour like swearing and shouting is not unusual and it will stop – eventually.

I don't really care. Swear as much as you like Mum, just don't ever leave us again.

Chapter 44

HOME AGAIN, HOME AGAIN JIGGETY JIG

CASSIE

I feel like some whirling dervish, half-crazed madwoman tearing round the house, examining every room like something possessed.

‘Will you just chill,' Maisy says to me. ‘The house is spotless, well, except for my room,' she mumbles.

‘I know, I know,' I reply. ‘It's just that, well, you know … the house was a mess that day … and …'

I pause as the words clog in my throat. I try not to blink, looking away from Maisy's gaze.

‘You idiot,' Maisy says, punching my arm.

‘Ouccchhhh,' I reply, turning to look at her. ‘Wad ya do that for?'

‘To give you something real to cry about,' she states, chewing the gum that never seems to leave her mouth. ‘Mum will be fine. No scrap that – Mum IS fine,' she continues.

I stare at Maisy (she actually looks well sick with blonde hair). I'm not sure if I want to punch her in the face or burst into tears.

She rolls her eyes and sighs heavily. ‘Oh c'mon then. I'll bloody help too if it means you'll stop running around like some crazy, psycho bitch.'

I smile at her. Her words are endearing. It's kind of like
her
derogatory remarks signify we're getting back to normal, or at least as normal as we were before Mum was attacked. When Mum was in a coma, it was like everyone was walking on cornflakes, or eggshells or whatever the bloody saying is. Maisy and I had always been offensive to each other but it was always (most of the time) done in a sisterly way. Somehow calling each other loser or idiot never sat right while Mum wasn't with us.