Oh Dear Silvia (27 page)

He feels compelled to keep talking to her, telling her all his stuff, so he does.

‘Bloody hell, Silv, that was a copper on the phone, sorry to take that call in front of you in here, I know you’d find that unfeasibly rude. Anyway, turns out they want to dig up a patch at Foy Wood. Some bloke’s dog has sniffed something up near the big old queen beech. It’s probably a dead dog or something, or a placenta. Some of those dreadlock girls from the campsite love all that, their offering to The Green Man or somesuch loony stuff.

‘It’s apparently in the oldest part of the wood – you know it well Silv – but ironically that’s close to where I have planted a whole new set of saplings in the hope that the big old nurses
will shelter them a bit, so I hope they don’t go and dig too close to them, they’ve only been in there for a year or so, they’re still taking hold. Still, not much I can do. I’ll bob up there later to see what’s happening. Hope they don’t cause too much chaos …’

Silvia lies there. Being breathed for.

‘Sorry love, not your problem. So. Here’s another day Silv, another morning. I wonder if there’s any time happening in your world? Well, just in case it is, let me bring you up to speed, I didn’t want to blether on in your ear through the night. In case you were sleeping …

‘I want to be straight up with you Silv. I don’t think there’s any point in fannying about. Cassie called me to explain what the doctor said, that you have a pretty serious infection. I was about to kick off to be honest, I thought you might have caught it in here, well, of course you caught it in here, but I thought perhaps the hospital is at fault or something … y’know, dirty. Winnie told me that yes, you have, of course, contracted it in here, but it’s not so much to do with cleanliness as with your immune system being so weakened. I’m afraid you were probably going to catch anything that’s been floating about here. Let’s face it, hospitals are full of bloody infections, it’s the worst place to recover in many ways.

‘So. Hmmmmm … It’s not good Silv. But listen, they’re giving you heaps of antibiotics … and you are a strong person, we all know that. You’ve got to want it though Silv. You’ve got
to want to live … and I’m not sure that you do, I wish I knew. I really wish I knew everything you want. We are all guessing, and for all we know, we could be getting it totally wrong, but look Silv, everyone is doing their best for you and trying to go about it in the way we think you would want. That’s all we can do.’

He picks up the disc of wood again, unconsciously comforting himself. He pulls the chair over and sits close to her head. He looks at her face. It is hard to do because she looks so undeniably like a dying person now, so … collapsed.

How can she have gone from alive and vibrant to this living dead in less than two weeks?

It’s astounding, terrifying, how speedy it’s all been.

Her face still has the marked remnants of Willow’s face painting. Although the nurses have attempted to get it off with various different methods, it won’t quite shift, so she still has traces of cat whiskers and nose. Funny how quickly you can get used to it, thinks Ed. It even sort of suits her, in a silly way.

Throughout the night, sitting next to his ex-wife, Ed has found himself several times being drawn towards in-sync breathing with her machine. It’s as though his breathing and hers have magnets. Eventually, they pull towards each other. It’s happening again now, while he sits quietly here with her in the morning light. He wonders if his natural unmetered breathing is too fast, since he has to slow it down considerably to breathe at her pace. At the machine’s pace. He doesn’t like
the fizz he can hear in her lungs, it’s definitely becoming more noisy. He feels powerless to resist the rhythm and it’s pointless to try.

Why not breathe along with her?

Maybe that
is
some sort of company, the union of the two bodies. The synthesis of simply coexisting simultaneously.

‘Sometimes Silv,’ he whispers, ‘there is absolutely nothing you can do about suffering, except just suffer it. But I feel for you. I really do. However asleep you might be, this can’t be nice. And I want you to know I’m here, OK?’

With that, he covers her hand with his and gives it a little squeeze. He doesn’t really know who she is any more, but he wouldn’t want her to be standing at the gateway between life and death on her own. He thinks that we surely all would need a chum at a time like this, and Silvia has precious few.

He has no idea what has happened to Cat. She hasn’t been seen at the hospital since Wednesday, and no one can get hold of her. Much against their better instincts, but for the sake of Silvia, both he and Jo have been trying to contact her, all in vain. She appears to have disappeared. Ed is surprised by this. They seemed inextricably linked. To the exclusion of all else. Much as he doesn’t like how exclusive their friendship is, he utterly expected Cat to be in attendance at a moment like this. Still, the old faithfuls like himself and Jo are not giving up.

In fact, Jo is due to come in soon, and Ed wants to tell Silvia
something before she turns up. Just something he wants her to know.

‘So, here we are. Two old twats. Been through a lot together Silv. Yes. Got loads of amazing memories. I was looking through the old photo albums with Cassie on Sunday – she was amazed I had so many …’

He doesn’t elaborate on this thorny subject. He could never quite believe that Silvia gave them all to him, appearing to reject her entire history with their family. He’s never explained this to the kids, believing it to be too painful a fact.

‘ … and we did have some great times, didn’t we? Holidays in Cornwall with the kids, that time we had to be rescued by the coastguard just outside Mevagissey, on the inflatable, remember? Oh God. My fault. Mr Nautical bollocks. And the magic coin pasty competition? Jamie lost a tooth to that. My fault again. And the “giantest mermaid in all the universe”? Your head poking out of the sand. Cassie spent all day on that. Proper art. Heartbroken when the tide came in. Had to dig you out quick.

‘And what about Christmas? All the Christmases? I bloody love Christmas. I know you hated all the naff stuff, the fifty white teddy bears in festive tartan up the stairs? The old strings of lanterns my mum and dad used to have, the knitted nativity? Ha ha, God, I loved that. So did the kids. So did you I think, eh? We all cracked up when you replaced Joseph with the peeing boy. Ha. His pants up and down all through
Christmas, pissing into the crib. Dirty bugger. “Mummy, Joseph’s weeing on Jesus again!” Ha ha ha. Loved it.

‘Hmmmn. Yep. We did have some good times all together. Mustn’t forget that, Silv. Mustn’t forget. All goes into the pot. And helps.’

But all this isn’t what he wants Silvia to know.

This is.

‘So. Anyway. Winnie, from here, and I met up last night. Mainly to talk about a problem she’s been having with her son. I drafted a letter for her … But anyway. I decided to show her the wood. I gave her an old pair of Cassie’s walking boots and we drove up there. I didn’t know if she’d like it, didn’t know if she’d be into nature and stuff but honestly Silv, it was like watching a kid at Disneyland. She says she doesn’t get much time to be outdoors and she’d forgotten how much she loves it.

‘I didn’t want to bore her with all my tree stuff, but I thought she might be interested in a few facts and thoughts, y’know. So we walked and talked about how trees of course have no brains, yet miraculously, they can adjust and create and sort of learn. About how this wood was here when we came into being and how it will certainly still be here way way after we’ve gone and how bloody awesome that is. Immemorial Equilibrium. Yes. Indeed. I told her about how the pattern of the branches on the great old beeches imitates the pattern of the leaves and she started to cry. I thought I might have upset
her but she said she was crying with … wonder. Pure wonder and joy.

‘She said it was just like us, and our kids, the branches and the leaves, imitating each other, and she said how thankful she was that Luke finally had a man in his life … who …’

Ed finds it difficult to carry on. He is choked. He is struck by how much it all matters. To him, to Winnie, to Luke, to Cassie, to Jamie, to them all.

‘… who might be the kind of example he could follow, who is … kind, she said, and true. Who is a good dad, she said. She said that Silv. That I am a good dad. And a good man. And a good granddad. She said she knew that because of the way Willow drew me in the picture. Oh, there’s the picture …’

He walks to the wall to check it closely.

‘Ha, yes, I see. There’s me with the wheelbarrow! Bless her. She loves riding in that. She really does. Look at her frog boots. She’s done those ever so well. Ah. Yep. Good.’

He turns back to Silvia,

‘So. That’s what she said anyway, and honestly Silv, it meant the world. And I couldn’t help myself, I just had to … y’know … kiss her. God. I did. I kissed her, and we were standing there in the whirl of the wind in the trees, and it was bloody amazing. Exchanging breath with her and with the trees all at once. All the oxygen blending together. Fresh, and bloody amazing.’

He can’t stop saying ‘amazing’. He is clasping the wooden disc to his heart without even knowing it.

‘And then. THEN. She sang! Just lifted up her head and sang out loud. And we walked and she sang. Bloody wonderful. Her voice is amazing. Amazing. She is amazing. Unafraid and real and amazing.’

Ed is remembering the astounding moment Winnie sang out a beautiful gospel hymn he didn’t really know.

I come to the garden alone

While the dew is still on the roses

And the voice I hear falling on my ear

The Son of God discloses.

And he walks with me, and he talks with me,

And he tells me I am his own;

And the joy we share as we tarry there,

None other has ever known.

Her voice is phenomenal. It’s pure, strong and exultant. He took her hand and walked through the trees he loves so much, with this shining woman. He’s not a religious man, but he felt blessed in that splendid moment.

Still today, he feels lucky and grateful. And excited to see her. She is due on duty again this morning. He is desperate to lay eyes on her, to reassure himself it’s all true. He knows it is. But he wants to see her. He wants to see her forever. And look out for her, and her son. He longs to protect them, to come alive again as a man. Willow has helped to balance him. Cassie and
Jamie have always appreciated him, yes, but now this woman and her dear son are going to complete him.

He knows it. He can’t wait. He’s got so much for them all.

‘So, the thing is Silv. I sort of understand something now, I’ve been thinking about it all night sitting here next to you. I realize that, in our marriage, we were both in different marriages really, I think. We were a bit like bacon and eggs, where y’know, the chicken is involved, but the pig is really committed? I totally gave myself to it just as we promised, “for better or worse”, and you didn’t see it like that. So consequently, you were able to give up on it, and I haven’t. Even ’til now. I just couldn’t let bloody go.

‘But now I see I absolutely fuckin’ must. I must. And not just for me, but for you. Unless I break away properly, finally, you can’t either, and now is the time you must. Because, Silv, my darling Silv …’

He goes to her and touches her arm.

‘I think you need to die, don’t you?’

Suddenly, Jo storms through the door.

‘I’m here darling, it’s alright now!’

Friday 9am

Tia passes the day room next to the nurses’ station and sees Jo being comforted by Ed and Winnie. She is sobbing and shuddering like a small child. Tia knows why. Cassie has called to sensitively explain it might not be long now, and that if Tia wants to see Silvia for the last time, she ought to visit soon.

Tia respectfully walks past, and comes into Suite 5.

‘Hello Mrs Shit! Tia here. Miss Cassie call me an’ tell me you doing the dying soon, so I can say goodbye today. She say you have the hospital infection bug. They is dirty turds in here, who gave you the nerve to get killed here? They should let Tia do the cleaning. I don’t kill you. I do good cleaning like you know for years. No bugs gettin past Tia. No way. They can all muff off. Tia cloth clean with TSB anticeptical every day. All bugs dead. Not allowed to kill Mrs Shit. I should bring in Tia’s
cloth and mop. Get it fresh. Stop them killing all the other sick cockheads in here.’

Tia bustles around the room, tidying things that are already tidy, eventually settling down in the visitor’s chair.

‘I not stay long. You got to die soon, an’ family comin. Tia not family, but know Mrs Shit long time, isn’t it? So Tia make this for you.’

She furtles about in her bag, and then, very carefully, she brings out a Tupperware container.

‘Cos before when I bring Mrs Shit best favourite curry in here, the nurse check my bag each time now, an’ they ask Tia to leave all values outside. But today they all busy with cryin so they don’t see, so Tia can bring for you …’

She opens the container and brings out a small, home-made offering. It is a bowl made from interwoven palm leaves, containing lots of little things Tia thinks are significant for Silvia, trinkets and gifts to help her on her final journey. There are a few grains of rice for nourishment, likewise a satsuma and a star fruit, there is some salt for purification, a small plastic heart, a pound coin, a cigarette, a pebble and a shell. All of these are covered over with colourful, fragrant, brightly coloured petals from jasmine and roses, and honeysuckle and daisy. In the middle is a small tea-light candle which Tia lights.

She sets it down safely on the floor, under Silvia’s bed.

‘This to say thank you for the life of Mrs Shit, and send her
back home to heaven, so she can get born again, but this time a new different thing. Maybe a fish? Or a tree? Or a cat?

‘Ooo, that’s to tell you about Miss Cat. Tia is cleaning at Mrs Shit house yesterday, an’ see Miss Cat drive her car up, comin in. Tia thinks no way hosepipe, so quick to double-lock door inside and sit down quiet, keep still so Miss Cat not get in. She tryin key, no good, swearin an’ bad words. She kick door, angry shoutin then long time, she go. Tia not let her in. Miss Cat not good in there. Not good. Not good for Mrs Shit. Mrs Shit get all sad pussy face since Miss Cat come. So Tia go back in and finish clean.