A Song in the Night (38 page)

The day before they left, Beth received a visit from a timid, silver-haired lady from second violins.

“Martha! What a lovely surprise …”

It was indeed a surprise. Martha was one of the least loquacious members of the whole orchestra, and Beth had hardly managed a handful of decent conversations with her during the entire time she’d been with the Avanti. It seemed the older lady found it far easier to express herself through her violin than through her words. Over a cup of tea, however, Martha finally found the courage to bare her soul.

“I’ve been praying for you ever since I found out about your illness, Beth.” She shuffled awkwardly. “I don’t know how you feel about things like this, but I – I just want you to know …” She hesitated as though her shyness were threatening to silence her.

Beth sat forward, her eyes wide with anticipation. “Yes! Go
on
, Martha.”

Martha cleared her throat and continued a little more confidently. “I just want you to know that the Lord has a beautiful place ready for each of us – if only we’re ready to meet him.” Her face became locked in an uneasy frown as she tried to work out how to elaborate on this statement.

But Beth’s face was shining. “Martha, I talk with him every day. I do –
really!
If any good has come out of this whole thing, it’s that I’ve come back to the Lord.”

In the half-hour that ensued, Beth went on to explain about her childhood, her parents’ faith, and her own experiences since her diagnosis. Martha was almost beside herself with joy as she listened to Beth’s account, and by the time she got up to leave, the two women were hugging each other like old friends.

“Thank you for praying for me, Martha. You couldn’t have done anything better.”

Martha smiled as her eyes misted with tears. “You’ll continue to be in my prayers every day, Beth. And even if we don’t see each other again this side of eternity, I can rest now … knowing I’ll see you again in heaven one day.”

The big move was fixed for the following Monday. Early on the morning of that day, Ed and Ciaran began the job of loading up the MPV. Rosie had managed to get time off work to be with them all. To her surprise, so had Gavin. He rang her just after nine.

“Rosie, I’d really like to be with you guys today. I called my boss a few minutes ago and explained the situation. He was really good about it. Said they’d get someone to cover.” He paused as he waited for her reply.

Rosie’s mind went into overdrive. What was going on with him? First flowers for Beth, and now this. For someone who’d at first struggled to show even the remotest sliver of concern for Beth’s predicament, Gavin was suddenly turning into the most attentive well-wisher anyone could hope for.

“Yeah, okay. I’m sure it’ll be fine.” She wished she could have sounded more enthusiastic, but she couldn’t help finding Gavin’s increasing cosiness slightly disconcerting. Especially now that the day had come. Ciaran really was leaving her again.

She waited for Gavin to pick her up, then they drove round to her brother’s home. When they arrived at the house they could see boxes and cases strewn across the pavement. Gavin parked up in front of Ed’s vehicle and switched off the engine. He turned to her gently. “You okay, Rosie?”

Rosie sighed heavily. It was happening. Beth was leaving, never to return here again – all her life packed up in the back of an MPV. “No,” she said quietly. “Would you expect me to be?”

“No. Don’t suppose I would.” Gavin took her hand in his own and for a few moments they sat like that, neither of them speaking. Finally he tilted her face towards him and spoke softly. “You’d better go in and see Beth. I’ll stay out here. These two look like they could use some help.”

When Rosie went into the house, Beth was sitting in an easy chair going through some post that had just arrived. Her face lit up when she saw Rosie. “As from tomorrow it’ll be –
Not Known At This Address –
eh, Ros?”

“Don’t worry. I’ll make sure it’s all sent on to you. Specially those in the nice brown envelopes.”

Beth grinned. “I’m gonna miss your cynicism, kiddo, I really am.”

Rosie avoided her gaze, pretending to busy herself in taking off her coat.
If you did but know it, Beth, my cynicism’s about the only thing holding me together today.
“Where’s your mum anyway?”

“She’s upstairs doing a bit of cleaning. She wants to leave the place looking nice. You know what mums are like.”

Not really, if I’m honest,
Rosie thought miserably. “I’ll go up and say hello. Won’t be long.”

She walked slowly up the stairs. Everything felt strange, sad, and somehow final, as though even the house knew what was happening. She found Cassie cleaning the bath. The older woman had not heard her approach and was singing quietly to herself as she worked. Rosie gave a slight cough to signal her presence.

Cassie spun round. “Hello, love!” She instinctively popped a kiss on Rosie’s cheek. “Didn’t realise you were here.”

“Anything I can do to help?”

Cassie shook her head. “No. You go down and talk to Beth. You two need to spend as much time together as you can.”

“Okay. Thanks.” Rosie tried to smile, but smiling seemed terribly hard today. She made her way back downstairs and sat on the sofa across from Beth.

“I hope they manage to get all our stuff in,” Beth said into the air.

Rosie didn’t comment. The spectacle of luggage strewn all over the pavement was still fresh in her mind; it hadn’t been a promising sight.

Beth cast her eyes wistfully about the room. “We’ve had some good times here, haven’t we, Ros?”

Rosie nodded. “Don’t worry about this place. I’ll keep an eye on it – make sure no squatters get in or anything like that.”

“And you’ll keep an eye on your brother too – afterwards I mean?” Beth looked at her directly. “He’s going to need it I think.”

Rosie felt a lump come to her throat. “Course I will. He’s always looked after me. ’Bout time I returned the favour.”

They sat quietly for several minutes, each lost in their own thoughts. On any other day the silence might have been awkward, but today nothing was normal, and there seemed no point in pretending it was.

It was Rosie who eventually spoke first. “I’ve been meaning to ask you … what d’you want to do about the diary? Do you want it back so you can take it up to Yorkshire with you?” She’d taken the precaution of bringing it along with her in case Beth should agree to this idea. In her heart of hearts, Rosie hoped she wouldn’t. “Or do you want me to just e-mail the entries on to you – let you have it back when it’s all finished?”

“Hmm – the diary.” Beth frowned. “I haven’t looked at it for a while, have I?” She seemed to think it over for a few moments. “Are you still typing it up for Jonathon?”

Rosie nodded. “Yeah. He’s really into it.”

“Okay, tell you what. You keep typing up the stuff for Jon and continue saving it all on file. E-mail on to me everything I’ve missed so far. That way, I can make up my mind whether or not to read it. It’s been a bit hard to face recently with everything that’s been going on.”

Rosie smiled to herself.
So you’ve come to your senses at last, have you?

“As for you, Ros …” Beth was looking at her, a sudden twinkle in her eye, “I’m going to make you its official guardian. That’s like an owner – only I won’t say owner, ’cause one day you might want to put it in some museum or something. It’ll be easier to part with if you’re its guardian.”

Rosie frowned. “You’re
giving
it to me?”

“Yeah. Are you okay with that?”

“Well, yeah,” Rosie shrugged, “course I am. I wasn’t expecting it, that’s all. I thought it was one of your prized possessions.”

“Can’t take it where I’m going, can I? And I want it to go to a good home. I think it’ll be a long time before Ciaran can read anything like that. But you, Ros, you’ve been doing a brilliant job of looking after it for weeks now. I reckon you’re the ideal person to inherit it.” She grinned for a moment, then assumed an expression of mock solemnity. “I, Beth Maconochie, being of sound mind and judgement, do hereby grant full custody of the diary to you, Rosie Maconochie, to do with as you think fit.” She gave a theatrical sweep of the room with her eyes. “Let all here present witness that this is my living will.”

Rosie smiled wryly. “Wow, Mrs M. The sense of occasion overwhelms me. I don’t have to make a speech or anything, do I?” But deep down inside, she was touched by Beth’s gesture. Even if Beth found it hard to handle now, the diary had meant the world to her when she’d first discovered it. Somehow Rosie felt strangely honoured. Her face became serious. “Thanks,” she said gruffly. “I appreciate that. I’ll look after it.”

“And remember,” Beth winked knowingly, “don’t let Velna within ten miles of it.”

The subject of the diary had broken open the way for more relaxed communication between them. As they talked, Rosie became increasingly conscious of how much she would miss Beth’s bright and easy conversation. Of course it would be in stages. First, Beth would move up to Yorkshire. Out of sight – but at least they’d be able to talk on the phone. It would be like a practice run. Then, at some unknown point in the not too distant future, would come the real thing. The goodbye forever. The real stone-cold separation. As Rosie looked across at Beth, the horrible thought hit her like a punch to the guts. She shuddered. It was too impossible to contemplate.

“Don’t suppose you’re gonna miss it down here then?” she ventured, fighting to push the prospect to the back of her mind.

Beth exhaled slowly. “No. But that’s not because I don’t like it here.” Her eyes were thoughtful. “I’ve been very happy in London, Ros. This is where I began to see my dreams come true. If none of this had happened, I’d be staying here without a doubt.”

“Or jet-setting all over the globe with the music press hot on your heels …” Rosie interjected.

“Yeah, or that.” Beth laughed, but her face soon became pensive again. “Funny how your priorities change when you find you have cancer. All the dreams and ambitions – they just seem to melt into nothing. It’s like you wake up and realise that none of it matters any more. In the final analysis, there are far more important things to sort out. Know what I mean, Ros?”

Rosie wasn’t altogether sure that she did. “I think if it was me, I’d be angry. I don’t know that
I
could lay the dreams down without a fight – not if I saw everybody around me still getting on with theirs.” She hadn’t meant to be so blunt, but Beth seemed undisturbed at her comments.

“Fight, eh? I think I’ve been fighting for years if I’m honest.”

Rosie frowned. “How d’you mean?”

Beth leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes. “When I was a kid everything was simple, Ros. Life seemed so gentle, so well-ordered. You know how it is when you’re young.”

Rosie bit her lip hard.
Gentle? Well-ordered?
Had they grown up on the same planet? She was glad Beth’s eyes were closed. At least she wouldn’t have seen her squirm.

Beth’s finger traced a pattern on the arm of her chair. “Y’know, I never struggled to trust God back then. It was second nature to me. Whatever I did, wherever I went, I knew he was there watching out for me. Guess I thought it would always be that way.”

Rosie felt slightly uncomfortable. It seemed like another deep philosophical discussion was on the way. She remembered the last one – Beth’s weird dream.
Please don’t say we’re going there again.

Unaware of her discomfort, Beth continued. “Suddenly – and I’m not quite sure when it started – I began to kick against everything I knew. My music became more and more important to me. Soon it was all that mattered. God went out the window. Guess I stopped trusting him, Ros … perhaps I was afraid deep down that he’d try and take my dreams from me.”

“
Hasn’t
he?” Rosie’s tone was cold.

Beth opened her eyes and looked over towards the window. “D’you know, I don’t see it like that, Ros. I reckon I’ve done pretty well for myself in recent years. But if I’m honest, I always sensed there was an empty place somewhere inside me. I’ve had a stab at my precious dreams. But they couldn’t give me what I really needed. Deep down, I knew I’d have to make my way back to God one day, no matter how long I tried to stall. I guess facing up to my own mortality has made it easier. Burned away my excuses. Stopped me putting it off any longer. I’m actually grateful for that.” She turned and looked directly at Rosie. “If you were to ask me today which I’d rather give up – the peace I now have, or the success I could have had, I’d give up the success in a moment. You can’t take success with you when you leave this earth. But peace – the peace of God – I wouldn’t trade that for anything.”

Rosie was quiet. So it all came down to the God business again. It was almost like listening to Boxer. “I’m happy for you,” she said simply. “Not sure I understand it much. But if it makes things easier for you, that’s great.”

Beth looked across at her, a gentle fire in her eyes. “Ros, it’s so much more than that. It’s not just something to make me go to sleep without a fight. I wish I’d lived my whole life knowing what I know now. In the light of eternity, even concerts and rave reviews lose their importance.”

Rosie shrugged. “I guess they must.” She paused for a moment. “It means a lot to you to die in Yorkshire, doesn’t it?”

Beth nodded. “Yeah, it does. When we went up at Christmas, I knew I’d come home. Not just physically. It was a spiritual thing too. I don’t understand it … I’m just a baby in all this spiritual stuff. But somehow I knew I’d come back to my roots. It felt incredibly safe there.”

Rosie smiled. “It
was
pretty lousy when we came back down here after New Year, wasn’t it?”

Beth’s eyes lit up. “You felt it too, Ros? I honestly thought I was only gonna last a fortnight. When Ciaran talked to me about us moving back up to Yorkshire, I just wept. It was everything I could have wanted.” She fell quiet for a moment. “I’m not looking forward to dying, Rosie. I’ve never done it before – and I don’t know if I’ll be any good at it. But I’m sure being at home will make it a whole lot easier. The Lord knows I’m a bit of a coward. I reckon I’m gonna need everything on my side for this one.”