Scars that Run Deep (17 page)

‘I'm going to Australia with my best friend, Gloria. She's from Bolton, Larry, and we're both going to teach there. We got it all sorted out. The school is in New South Wales.'

‘When? How soon?' I held her. As she gave me the details, I muttered, ‘December, my God. When do you leave Jersey?'

‘September. I will be at home in Bingley. You can come and visit me there if you want.'

‘Are you sure?' My foolish heart. I was sorry I said that.

‘Of course I'm sure. Don't you trust me? I'd love you to come to my home in Bingley. It's Yorkshire for me, Larry, and New South Wales for Christmas. What will you do?'

‘Go back home, I suppose.' I felt gutted. ‘No, I got no place to go home to, Helen.'

‘Oh goodness, Larry. I'm so sorry. I mean it. Come to Australia with us. Think about it.'

‘I'm fine. It's the darn night work and lack of sleep, that's all.'

As we parted, Helen said, ‘You've got my address in Bingley. Write to me. I'll let you know when you can come visit me and you will think about coming to Australia, won't you? Promise me.'

I promised I would. But she was right about me not looking so well.

I began in my new job at the beginning of August and I was feeling just awful. I decided to visit the hospital near West End in St Helier.

The tall, well-built, heavy-set doctor addressed me in a thick Scottish accent. ‘Can I help yeh, laddie? What have you come here for?' His tone was gruff.

‘I think I got maybe a flu. My head aches awful.'

He stood towering over me, his tone as rough as Scottish haggis. ‘You'll live, laddie. All you Irish and English who
come in here with summer colds think yer dying. Now clear off, I mean it, and do a good hard day's work, lad.'

I was stunned to silence and I felt embarrassed. I walked back to the flat that I shared with a man called Billy from Dundee and an English lad, feeling light-headed.

A few days passed. It was about four o'clock in the morning. Billy heard my groans for help but he fell back to sleep. He was fond of Scotch whisky. I felt I was dying as I found it so difficult to breathe. The time was nearer 4am. I couldn't lift my head off the pillow. My head ached. I moaned. Then the English lad muttered, ‘Go to the doctor, Larry, or go to the hospital first thing. Now get some sleep.'

I just closed my eyes as any bit of light affected me. The hours dragged on like days. I tried to pray to God for forgiveness for all my sins I was sure I'd committed with Helen, as even thinking about her nakedness, of her breathtaking body, is a mortal sin. I felt scared to die in a state of mortal sin, yet I couldn't get those thoughts out of my mind. I was moaning when I heard a voice with an English accent. ‘Here, Larry, take these and drink this.' My flatmate lifted my head up as I took the painkillers. ‘Drink all the water, Larry. You got the flu. Now try to sleep.'

The next day I was able to get up. I decided to go to the chemist along the main road. I felt strange to be in the sunlight. It hurt. I remember entering the chemist. The staff
wore white coats. My gaze rested on a young, dark-haired female assistant who approached me. ‘Can I help you at all?'

I remember her brown eyes searching me. Her voice was more anxious than before. ‘Gosh, let me help you. Come this way, please. You are not well. We got a doctor upstairs. She will see to you.'

How I felt the burden of each step. I felt the nurse's arms around me. I heard a female voice.

‘I'm going to take your temperature. Pulse low, temperature, goodness, 105. Doctor, doctor.' Her tone was anxious. ‘Call the ambulance. Say it's most urgent.'

The doctor asked, ‘Are you here alone?'

I mumbled yes.

‘Got a name? Try to whisper it to me. Please try.'

I managed to give the doctor some details.

‘How long have you been feeling this way? Please take your time. A week. I see. Been to see a doctor, have you?'

I nodded yes, in hospital, and blurted, ‘He's Scottish. A big man.'

I felt her hand holding mine. ‘You've done fine. Say no more now. We know the one you mean.' I heard the siren. It must be outside, I thought.

In the hospital I was naked, surrounded by a team of male and female doctors and nurses. I screamed in agony as they probed a long needle up into my lower back for fluid. The
pain was horrendous. ‘We got it, lads. We got it. Get it to the lab. It's an emergency.'

Later that night I lay naked as nurses cooled me down with ice-cold towels. The doctor came by, on his round, I guess. ‘How is he, nurse?' God, it's him. It's the big Scot who told me to get out. I was surrounded by the team in white coats.

As I lay flat on my back, my eyes unable to face the light, I listened to the nurse give my details to the big Scots doctor and the team. ‘Temperature slightly improved, 103. Pulse flow same. Remains feverish, can't face light.'

‘Okay, nurse. Let me get a closer look at him,' said the doctor. His tone was much more polite. He was very apologetic too. ‘Well, we meet again, Patrick. But I promise you we are going to take very special care of you this time. ‘You're overheating, lad. Too much sun. You've got a severe form of viral meningitis, Patrick. When we get you back up and out, you must promise me you will keep out of the sun. It does not agree with you. Take good care of him, nurse. Minimum visitors, one at a time, and give them protective clothing and masks. No lights, keep the blinds closed. Plenty of water. Expect he'll be with us for a long stay. I'll see you tomorrow, Patrick.'

I heard the team walk out, the door closed. The sounds hurt my head. How I longed to see Helen now. I felt so weak. I couldn't lift my head from the pillow or open my eyes to see
the daylight. I received one visit during that time from my friend Billy. He told me that he would try to find Helen for me, but that was the last I ever saw of him.

A few weeks later the Scottish doctor came to give me good news. ‘You are on the mend, laddie, you are going to learn to walk again, and you will get to see the northern lights of old Aberdeen, I promise you. It's 105 degrees outside, the hottest August on record. Aren't you lucky you are out of the sun in here in the shade, with a team of pretty nurses taking care of you.' He squeezed my hand in his and said, ‘I prayed every day and night for you.'

‘A prayer for you too, doctor.' I had come to admire this man, and I was deeply moved by his words of kindess. ‘I would love to see Aberdeen.'

‘In the gold of October,' he said. I nodded in agreement.

I will go there, I thought.

Once I was able to stand up without support from the kind, caring nurses, I slowly became strong enough to walk the long, polished corridors. Nurse April, a dark-haired young lady who was on duty to escort me up and down the stairs, helped me to get strength back into my legs and was there for me in the days when I felt I had no desire to live. I'm certain I would not have survived without her special gentle care. She was my angel.

It was a beautiful golden day in early September. I was building up my strength walking along the white sandy beach when I heard a voice calling. ‘Larry, Larry.' My heart stopped briefly as I turned around. ‘It's me, Gloria, Helen's friend.'

‘Where is she?' I felt so emotionally drained. I just wished she would embrace me. I wasn't disappointed.

‘She's gone home to Bingley. She left a get-well card. We heard far too late about your awful illness and your close shave with death. When we got the news we both cried,' she blurted out.

Gloria withdrew Helen's card from her shoulder bag. As I read it, I smiled. My heartbeat raced.

‘Good news, Larry?'

‘Yeah, Helen would like me to stay a few days in Bingley once I'm fit enough.'

‘That's a nice surprise after all you've been through. You know Helen and I are off to Australia in December.'

After a long pause I said, ‘Yes I do. But I guess it would be far too hot a climate for me. I'm off to Aberdeen soon.'

We walked for miles as we chatted about Bolton, Bingley, Shipley and Aberdeen. She was so much taller than Helen and she spoke so clear. A school teacher to the tip of her fingertips, I thought.

After I was discharged from hospital, I did go to Aberdeen as I had promised the doctor. There I found work and also met a girl, Sarah, whose family seemed to be planning our wedding after two weeks. I liked her, but she was no Maria or Helen. I was a non-drinker and non-smoker, while she smoked like an old chimney and drank her Scotch the way I drank tea. And then when I'd tried to kiss her she smacked me, and this was when she was sober. I feared what she'd do after a few drams too many!

It wasn't long before I contacted Helen and I was on the next train to Bradford. Our agreed meeting place was on the bridge in Bingley town over the River Aire and as I stepped from the Bradford–Bingley bus my heart missed a beat. As she embraced me, I could not stop the flow of tears and emotional joy that overwhelmed me. When she released her hold, her eyes met mine. Her tone was soft and wavering. ‘Oh, Larry, forgive me for not getting to see you in hospital when I heard of how close to the end you were, but I had left for home then. Gloria told me all about how you almost died. Oh God, Larry, if only I'd known I'd have been there for you. I cried so much when Gloria phoned me. In fact we both did. She told me everything. I want you to know I really loved you then.'

My hopes raised. ‘And what about now?' I said.

‘Oh, Larry, I'm so fond of you. I had to see you again after all you've been through but you know I'm going to Australia.'

As we strolled along the mossy green banks, I listened to her explain her plans in New South Wales and how she had dreams of going to Australia since she was a young teenager. ‘If only you could come with us to Australia, Larry.'

I was taken by surprise and I knew she was being sincere. While my heart ached and I longed for her, I was too scared of going to such a hot climate.

I looked away as I said no. My stubborn, foolish heart ached for her love.

‘What about New Zealand, then?' she suggested. ‘I think you would like it, it's got a nice climate. I'd say Auckland would suit you better. It's a very green and picturesque country. Larry, are you listening to me at all? I did love you.'

I gazed at the fast-flowing waters. She was in my arms, our lips found each other. To me it was like being in a beautiful dream. ‘If only you could stay here, I'm sure we could find a way. I'd make you happy here in Yorkshire.'

She raised up to face me. Her voice was sincere. ‘If I were to stay in England, it would have to be in Yorkshire. Like I said, it's Yorkshire for me. But I'd like you to know I would stay with you, Larry. But you are welcome to come with us to Australia and I do understand your reason why you can't. I did love you.' Her eyes met mine.

I took out the poem I wrote for her, ‘It's Yorkshire For Me', and gave it to her. As she read it, I gazed at the waters below.

For a long moment there was little I could think of doing, except to stare at the calm waters. I wanted to hear what her opinion of it was. Suddenly I glanced at her. Her smile looked sweeter than ever. ‘Oh, Larry, you are such a romantic,' she said. She smiled, wiped her eyes and, in a swift, loving movement, her arms were embracing me.

‘I know you've fallen in love with me,' she said softly and drew a breath. Then she added, ‘You promised me you wouldn't.'

‘I am very weak when it comes to matters of the heart. More so when someone as beautiful as you is involved.'

All she did was laugh at me. I said, ‘Well, you know how I feel about you.' As she drew closer, I desired her so much my actions got the better of me. She laughed, ‘No, no, Larry, not out here. Tonight in my place it will be much more comfortable.'

Our farewell gift to each other, I thought with a smile.

HELEN CONVINCED ME
that New Zealand would be the best place for me to make a life, and I decided to stay in Bradford while I saved up for my ticket. I settled into my new lodgings with an Irish family in Bradford and I became friends of the man of the house. Frank was a soft-spoken Dublin man who worked as an accounts clerk with the High Class confectioners/bakers in Bradford. He showed me around the place, and then set me up with a job.

I took it. It would pay for my trip to New Zealand. However, I was taken on with an immediate start on the 11pm night shift. I didn't have much strength after my long illness in Jersey. But Frank's wife, Nora, along with her mum, Mary Rose, promised to build me up in preparation for my forthcoming voyage to New Zealand. Frank took me on long walks to Shipley Glen, over bracken and thorn and along by old deserted woollen mills that housed the ghosts of the industrial past. I began to feel strong again. At weekends I'd
ramble off alone with my dreams of Helen, the English teacher. As I stood on a small wooden bridge across the Aire, I gazed fondly across to the Bingley cricket ground. The sun was casting long shadows as it lowered to kiss the plush velvet lawn. A golden October day.