A Song in the Night (26 page)

Since the children have flesh and blood, he too shared in their humanity so that by his death he might destroy him who holds the power of death – that is, the devil – and free those who all their lives were held in slavery by their fear of death.

For a moment she found herself wishing Belinda was there to help her out. She turned to the book of John. Ah yes, here was a familiar one. She remembered it from her Sunday school days; the story of Lazarus.

Jesus said to her, ‘I am the resurrection and the life. He who believes in me will live, even though he dies; and whoever lives and believes in me will never die.’

She closed her eyes. She’d won a prize once for memorizing that verse. But now it meant more than the chance to impress her Sunday school teacher. Her whole eternal destiny was riding on this one.

Cassie came into the room with a tray. Beth was slightly startled. She’d been so absorbed in her cogitations, she hadn’t noticed the end of the telephone conversation. She stuffed the Bible behind her cushion.

“Sorry about that, love. Janie always picks her times, bless her.” Cassie set the tray down and took a mug of tea over to Beth. She noticed the discomfited expression on her daughter’s face and frowned. “Are you alright, sweetheart?”

Beth faked a smile. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine. Just a bit tired.”

Cassie picked up her own tea and sat down, her eyes filled with concern. “Not hurting anywhere, are you?”

“No, not at all.” Beth spoke as reassuringly as she could. “Since I’ve been on the meds, the pain and sickness are a lot better.” It was a truthful answer. The morphine tablets had taken care of the gripping stomach pains, and since she’d been fitted with the cyclizine syringe driver, even the relentless nausea that had plagued her for months had subsided. It was almost tempting to imagine that she was recovering. These days, the most prominent physical symptom was a nagging sense of exhaustion. But without the more obvious signs of a medical condition, it would have been easy to attribute the fatigue to some other, less sinister cause. The truth that the cancer was now devouring her silently and painlessly was somehow harder to grasp than the illusion.

She gave a dismissive laugh. “I suppose the thing that really reminds me I’m ill is when I look in the mirror. I look awful. Like I badly need a makeover.”

Cassie wasn’t having any of it. “You don’t look awful, sweetheart. You’ve never looked awful.”

There’s time yet,
thought Beth, not really wanting to think about it.

Cassie took a long, slow drink from her mug. “Ciaran’s finding it hard, isn’t he?”

Beth looked down sadly. “He’s really struggling. I know he’s trying to be brave for my sake but …” Her voice tailed off. She couldn’t imagine how he was going to cope. She remembered the day she’d told him her condition was terminal. The news had devastated him. He’d hardly smiled since. “To be honest, Mum, I’m finding it all a bit tricky. Having to come to terms with everything … plus trying to keep my chin up in front of Ciaran. Even Dad. I don’t think either of them could handle it if I got upset.” She forced another little laugh. “It’s not so hard with you. I already lost it in front of you at the hospital, so I know you’re not gonna fall apart.”

Inwardly Cassie winced, but she didn’t let it show. “No pressure then, eh?”

Beth smiled. “Sorry, Mum. But you’ve always been strong. And I’ve never been more glad of it than I am now.” She stared into the fire again. “It’s an awful thing to be told you only have a few months left. Everything seems to become terribly real all of a sudden.”

Cassie frowned gently. “What do you mean, love?”

Beth watched as a flame curled round a log and thinned into a smoky spire as it disappeared up the chimney. What
did
she mean? It was hard to explain to someone who wasn’t experiencing this same heightened sense of reality. She shook her head. “I dunno. It’s as if I’ve just woken up from a dream. I’m noticing things – things that were always there I guess. Only now I see them. I suddenly see everything as it really is. Bright and full of life. Wonderful somehow. All the things I’ve taken for granted – they seem so precious, so very, very precious … now that I know I’ll be leaving them soon.” Her voice broke then and it was a few moments before she could speak again. “Can you understand, Mum? Can you understand what I’m saying? Everything seems so beautiful all of a sudden. So desperately beautiful.” She cast a longing glance around the room. “And I so desperately, desperately want to stay here.”

Cassie clenched her jaws together. Beth needed her to be strong; she’d just said so. But as hot tears pricked mercilessly at her eyes, Cassie knew she was in the darkest trial of her life.

Oh God, how can I be strong? I feel like my heart is crumbling to pieces. Help my baby, Lord. Please help my baby.

For a little while neither of them spoke. Apart from the hum and crackle of the fire, the room was still. The clock chimed on the hour and then all was quiet again. Both women were lost in their thoughts. At last, Beth sat forward in her chair.

“Mum … can I tell you something?”

Cassie straightened and looked at her.

“I want to be buried up here. At Saint Edwin’s.”

Cassie fought to hide her shock. Even though she’d been planning to ask Beth about her final wishes, her daughter’s blunt request came as a surprise. “Really? Not in London?”

Beth shook her head. “I don’t belong in London, Mum. I never did. It got me where I wanted to go – musically anyway. But it’s not home. I want to come home.”

Cassie frowned as she considered the implications. “Have you told Ciaran about this?”

Beth shook her head again. “No, I haven’t brought it up yet. I know we really need to start thinking about all this practical stuff, but he’s hurting so much already. And there’s something so final in talking about where you want to be buried. I’ll have to pick my moment to tell him. But I wanted to bounce it off you first.”

Cassie nodded slowly. “Do you think he’ll object?”

Beth leaned back in her chair. “No. No, I can’t imagine he will. He’s no more attached to London than I am. It’s where we live, where we work. But we’re both so busy all the time. Tutoring, practising, teaching, rehearsing. Always racing here, racing there; it would hardly matter where we were really. Ciaran could get Peri work anywhere. We’re only in London for the Avanti. Take that away and the place has no soul. Not for me anyway.”

Cassie gazed through the window.
Oh God. She talks about soul. What about her own soul?
She held her tongue, afraid to broach that subject, yet desperate to do so.

Beth ran her fingers thoughtfully through her hair and looked across at her mother. “Well, what d’you think? Do you think it’s a possibility? You don’t have any objections yourself, do you? Having me up here full-time, I mean?” She smiled awkwardly.

Cassie’s eyes filled with tears. “Oh Beth.
Beth … .
”

Beth shuffled in her chair. Perhaps this was the right time to say something. “It’s not some kind of insurance policy, my wanting to be buried at St Ed’s.” She paused, suddenly embarrassed.
Well, Beth – time to admit that they’ve been right all along.
“I know I haven’t been near the place in years. I haven’t let you talk God stuff to me in years.” She cleared her throat. “I’ve been hard as nails towards all that. I know I’ve been running from him.”

Cassie stared at her.

Beth leaned forward and focused her gaze on the fire. “I’m still working things out, Mum. There’s a lot I don’t understand. But I wanted you to know, I’ve made my peace with God.”

Cassie swallowed hard. She looked expectantly at Beth, willing her to elaborate.

Scrutinising the expression on her mother’s face, Beth felt encouraged to continue. “I guess I started to feel something just after I first got diagnosed. It kinda puts things in perspective getting news like that. But when I realised I wasn’t going to get better, that really clinched it for me. I met a Christian nurse on the ward and she talked me through a lot of things.” A wistful smile came as she remembered Belinda. “I wish I had more time, Mum. There’s such a lot I don’t know. Sometimes I feel a real peace, and other times I’m frantic at the thought of leaving all of this – all of you. But one thing’s sorted. Whatever happens to me now, I know where I’m going. I just wanted you to know that.”

Cassie left her chair and came over to embrace her daughter. There were no words to express the joy she felt in that moment. But her heart overflowed with gratitude as tears spilled down her cheeks.

My God, I’ve prayed all these years for her. Thank you, thank you for your faithfulness.

____________

Rosie was in slightly better humour as she went up to bed that night. The evening meal had been convivial enough and afterwards, as the wind rattled the rafters and the fire sang in the hearth, the family had played board games together. Beth had joined in with such gusto, it had been easy to pretend that everything was okay.

“Typed up any more entries for me?” she’d asked in a low voice as they were in the middle of a bout of Scrabble.

“Slave driver,” Rosie had hissed.

Beth had pulled a face then. “If it’s all the same to you,” she’d teased with a growl, “I
would
like to get it finished before I’m obliged to make my exit.”

Later, as they’d made their way upstairs for bed, Rosie had turned to Beth. “Do you want the diary back? I mean, is there any point me hanging on to it now you’re out of hospital?”

Beth had looked thoughtful. “Hold on to it for now, Ros. I really appreciate what you’re doing with it. It helps a lot.” Leaning against the banister she’d sighed, and Rosie had seen the weariness in her eyes. “To be honest, I don’t know if I’d have patience deciphering the writing now. It’s so tiny, and I get so tired, Ros. Your typed up A4’s are just right for me. That is, if you don’t mind doing it.”

Rosie had grinned then. “Frankly I’d rather eat my own toenails. But for you, dear sister-in-law, I’m prepared to suffer.”

Now in the quiet of her room, Rosie picked up the diary and opened it again.

Zillebeke October 24th 1916

We had an unexpected visitor earlier today, Em. A certain Reverend Nathanael Bocking – Boxer’s brother! His battalion is currently stationed at Hooge not far from here. Apparently he got wind of the news that we were in the area and decided to pay us a call. He’s very like Boxer to look at, except that he’s not so ruggedly built and he wears spectacles. Seems a jolly nice fellow; talked with several of the men and spent a good quarter of an hour or so chatting with Jimmy. I suspect Boxer had something to do with that. He’s still concerned about him. His decision to watch out for him is something he takes very seriously. Anyway, Jimmy seemed much brighter after the conversation so the good Reverend must have said something to buck him up.

I have a lot of respect for the padres, Emily. They really put themselves out to help us men. You’ll see them assisting with the wounded or giving out hot drinks, always as cheerful as you like. Often they’re right there in the thick of things, even when it’s lively, offering to say a prayer with you or just talking in that special, calming way they have. Somehow I think everybody feels comforted when there’s a chaplain around, even if they won’t admit to it. I know I do. Some of the chaps are a bit cheeky and pretend they’ve no time for all that religious stuff. But I tell you, Em, when we’ve got a big one coming up, they’re usually the first at the church services. As for me, I’m still struggling to know what I think about it all. The more I listen to Boxer, the more I wonder if he might be right. I never gave any of it much thought when I was younger, but since I’ve been out here, I find myself half-hoping that there’s more to things than I’d previously imagined. Sometimes I look at the lads around me, especially the really young, fresh-faced ones. I think of their mothers back home; feeding them, clothing them, watching over them with pride for all those years, only to have them ordered out here to get blown to bits. What sense can you make of that, Em? Surely there must be more to it all, don’t you think? If not, then it seems to me that life is nothing more than a huge tragedy.

____________

Rosie flicked off the lamp and lay in the darkness. Well, that pretty much equated with
her
view of things at the moment. She certainly hadn’t been able to come up with a more positive interpretation of life over the last few weeks. Not, she chided herself, that she should even be giving brain space to this kind of musing. She was pretty sure Mel never did. Or Ellie. Or any of them down at the nursery come to that. No, from what she’d managed to pick up in staffroom conversation, most of them seemed to lead a fairly vacuous existence. Pubbing, clubbing, snogging and shopping. What was more, they appeared quite content to do so. She’d never heard one of them agonising over the meaning of life. And why should they? They were young, they had their dreams, and even if their aspirations never went much beyond who they were going to pull at their next weekend pub crawl, what did it matter so long as they were happy?
That’s more than I am,
thought Rosie, as though she had just realised it for the first time. Her mind turned to Beth.
She
was young.
She
had dreams. But it seemed that Life hadn’t stopped to consider that. It was marching on regardless, and soon Beth would be gone. Just an empty space where she used to be. A string of broken hearts. And a boatload of questions.

Beth looked around the church hall. It was years since she’d been in here. There was a definite freshness about the paintwork and one or two of the old fixtures had been replaced, but apart from that, everything was just the same as she remembered. Interspersed amongst the familiar faces, however, were quite a few new ones that she didn’t recognise, and she suddenly realised how long she had been away. She leaned over to her mother. “I see Betty Flavel really
is
still here. How old is she exactly? She was ancient when I was a kid.”

Several of the old faithfuls came over to say hello. For their sakes Beth did her best to look bright and cheerful. At least they’d had the guts not to ignore her, even if a couple of them had become a little tongue-tied after the first few words. She couldn’t help feeling for them in their awkwardness.