The Darker Side of Mummy Misfit #2 (28 page)

And we get to have a laugh at the daft yummies and Letchy having to sit for two hours whilst trying to disguise an erection.

Saturday 25
^th
April

Not a good day today.  Not a good day at all.

Woke up to
another
text - just the usual, nothing more revealing, and I then had a frantic call from Pritesh.

He’d been trying to ring Mrs S for an hour and wasn’t getting any reply.

PM

I’d gone round to Mrs S as soon as I’d clicked the mobile shut and bashed on her door.  I thought perhaps she might have Bazza blaring too loudly but there was no sound from inside.

When I peered through the letterbox I could just make out her feet sticking out from behind the kitchen door.

She was on the floor and apparently lifeless in a glorious mound of scarlet red sari.

Sunday 26
^th
April

Just back from the hospital and absolutely knackered.

Once the ambulance
finally
arrived yesterday and we’d managed to get access to the house, the paramedics examined her and said it looked like she’d had a minor stroke.

At that stage they couldn’t tell me how serious it was and all we could do was set off to the hospital.

On the way, Mrs S began to come round and was obviously very distressed - she couldn’t seem to move her left side at all and kept insisting that she didn’t want to leave Desmond.  I explained to the ambulance man that it was her canary and then told Mrs S that I’d call Ned and tell him to take Des to live in our house until she came home.

“And do not be forgetting to teach him the last part of ‘Can’t Smile Without You’.  If I am karking it I am wanting him to be singing it at my funeral!”

At this point I burst into tears and told her not to be so bloody stupid.

Whereupon she told me to stop using “bloody rudie” words so I figured she was probably going to be OK.

Pritesh was actually at the hospital before us, with Patience, and he was pacing the corridor awaiting our arrival.  I explained all that I knew and said that we’d just have to wait for the doctor’s final tests and checks to know the prognosis.

When we eventually got in to see her she was sitting up in bed looking very frail in a hospital gown.  The doctor explained that she’d lost the use of one side of her body but this could return as quickly as it went - or maybe not at all.

So now we’re just playing the waiting game.  There was no change in her today and, apparently, each day that passes means that there’s less of a chance of her returning to normal.

Oh and I returned home to a patchy rendition of ‘Can’t Smile’ by Desmond which set me off in floods of tears again.

Monday 27
^th
April

Dropped Max at school and headed straight to the hospital because I knew Pritesh couldn’t be there until later.

Mrs S seemed a little brighter but she still hadn’t regained any movement.

“My Pritesh is saying I may be needing to go into a home where I can be cared for properly but I am telling him I will be going nowhere unless I can take my Desmond with me.”

I told her that Desmond was fine and working really hard on some new songs with Max, who’s got him started on ‘One Voice’ already - but that’s a surprise for when she comes home -
if
she comes home.

Left the hospital feeling really miserable - I just can’t imagine not having Mrs S next door to us.

She’s not just a neighbour, she’s my friend and I’m not ready to lose her.

PM

Pritesh called to say that it’s his mum’s dying wish to see him married.

“She’s using every trick in the book, Lib, and it’s worked.  It would only have been a matter of time before we did it anyway so we figured if it gives Mum a positive to focus on we’ll bring it forward.  How’s June 20
^th
looking for you?”

Told him I was over the moon for them and that I thought it was an excellent idea to give Mrs S a goal.  “The sooner she improves, the sooner we can have her home,” I said.

“That’s the thing Lib.  The docs don’t seem to think that there’s going to be much further improvement in her mobility now so it really
does
look like a nursing home might be our only option.  I’m calling the estate agents in for a valuation next week and starting to look at the best homes in the area.  I’m left with no choice.”

So that’s it then.  I’m losing Mrs S.

Tuesday 28
^th
April

This is a horrible thing to write but it’s the truth.

I prefer Mrs S to my own mother.

There, I’ve said it!

My bloody mother called this morning and said that it was for the best that Mrs S was moving because then I wouldn’t be lumbered anymore and I might get myself a “nice new neighbour”.

She really doesn’t have ONE ounce of sensitivity in her body and I hate the fact that I sprung from her loins.

PM

Ned did his best to cheer me up last night.  We ordered a take-away and settled at the table with a bottle of bubbly as a special treat - we’re not
that
posh that we have it as a staple.

When we got to discussing Mrs S, Ned had an excellent thought.

“What we need to do, Lib, is wait until Pritesh decides on the right home for her and then start house-hunting in that area - that way we can still be close to her
and
we get to have the move we wanted.”

Rewarded my
very
clever and thoughtful husband in the way only a
good
wife could.

Wednesday 29
^th
April

Things are hotting up for the beauty contest next week.  Inches are visibly disappearing from waistlines and being added to busts.  Highlights and extensions are being introduced and various shades of tanning from subtle to overtly orange.

I’d imagine that takings in salons and gyms around the south west London area have gone up considerably in the last month or so.

Fenella has decided
against
entering the contest as she feels her baby belly hasn’t
quite
packed its bags yet.  She looks bloody good to me and I actually think she could win it hands down without any enhancements.

“No Sweedie,” she told me, “there are mothers who are far more in need of an ego boost than I am and I’d hate to rob them of their moment of glory.”

Just a little part of me made me wish she’d enter - her post-baby boobs are looking fantastic and it would be one in the eye (so to speak) to all those fake mums.

Thursday 30
^th
April

Nic called to say that all the test results are back and unfortunately it’s not looking great.  Usually it’s incredibly difficult to diagnose Hunter syndrome in a baby but, due to Mikhail’s ‘different’ look, it would appear that an early decision has been made.

He’s going to be a very poorly boy and may not live beyond his teens.  We can only live in hope that more research leads to a brighter outlook and something can be done for him.

Obviously Nic and Rick are devastated and having to slowly come to terms with all that they’ve learned.  Olga is being hugely supportive by all accounts and has decided to begin fundraising for studies into the disease.

Told Nic I’d have a word with H&B and see if maybe the school could get involved in some way as well.

PM

Mrs S is now thoroughly bored in hospital.  I arrived to find her plugged into her iPod - her new toy - humming away to Bazza with her eyes closed and her head resting back on her pillow.

She suddenly looked so tiny.  I wanted to pick her up and snuggle her like a baby, just to make everything OK again.

I sat down quietly next to her and touched her hand gently.  She opened her eyes and smiled at me as she removed her headphones.  “Oh Libbybeta, you are such a good girl to be visiting me every day!  And your lovely friend, Fenella was here earlier too.  As she would say, “I am going out of my frigging mind with boredom in here”!”

She seems much brighter in herself though and is now fully accepting the fact that she’ll be unable to live alone.  Told her about our plans to move near to her and she was delighted.  “You are such a dear friend to me, Libbybeta.  I am very lucky to have you.”

Told her
I
was the lucky one and we plugged in an earphone each and listened to Bazza in mono, tunelessly singing along together.

Friday 1
^st
May

I’ve had no texts for a few days so I’m living in hope that they have really stopped this time.  Every time I think that though, another one pops up, so I won’t breathe a sigh of relief just yet.

Pritesh seems to have found a lovely residential home a couple of miles down the road.  It’s in a street that we’d always had aspirations of moving to - great houses with good sized gardens - so we’re starting to get the blurb from estate agents.

Think Max may have ideas a little above his station (or been mixing with wealthy kids for too long) as he’s drawn up a list of requirements for the house.

OUR NEW HOUSE MUST HAVE:

Swimming pool

Tree house

Wendy house

Games room

Family cinema

Gym

Swing, climbing frame, slide and trampoline

Bedrooms for Dog, Dot and Stripe with their own beds

Thankfully, when I told him that the only possibilities on the list were the garden toys but we’d be closer to the local swimming pool, he seemed happy enough.

Still got his feet on the ground, my boy!

PM

Fenella called tonight to say that all is set for the christenings on the 17
^th
.

“I just spoke to Nic and he said that they feel the sooner the better for them.  It’s so sad about darling Mikhail, isn’t it?  I’ve been wracking my brains to come up with ideas to help Olga with the fundraising, just so that I feel I’m doing
something.
”

Told her I’d spoken to H&B and that they’re happy for us to donate 10% of all this year’s CCL’s funds.  We’re already on target, thanks to Patience’s dad, so it’s not as if we’re short-changing anyone.  And it’s still Changing Children’s Lives.

Fenella said that was fantastic and that Olga had come up with some great ideas that, once we stepped down from CCL in the summer, we could help her with.

“Time to put our skills to use elsewhere, Lib.  And I
might
just have a little idea of my own up my sleeve.”

She sounded cagey - a cagey Fenella is never good.  Believe me, I know these things.

Saturday 2
^nd
May

Mrs S is coming out of hospital on Monday and she’ll be going straight to ‘The Oaks’.  She’d been really lucky to be offered a place so quickly and I think she’s quite looking forward to it now.  She realises she’ll have more company throughout the day and that’s helping her to look on the bright side.

I’ve told her I’ll be there waiting with Desmond when she arrives and I can help her settle in.

Got her house keys from Pritesh and made sure I got all her special bits and bobs ready to put in her room for her arrival.

Her giant framed Bazza photo will look great above her bed and the frilly Copacabana suit he’s sporting should give the nurses a laugh.

PM

Spent the evening ploughing through details for houses and we’ve narrowed it down to five that we want to view.  The sooner we see them, the sooner we can be closer to Mrs S.

The house I like the most is practically next door to the home so it will feel like nothing’s changed.

I know I’m kidding myself.  Quite a lot has changed for poor Mrs S but I live in hope that this move will provide the comfort for her twilight years.

Sunday 3
^rd
May

Have to do my daughterly duty and have Mum and Bert over for lunch today.  Elle’s coming with baby Gracie and ‘big-balls’ Harriet will pop in if she can spare the time.

I know she’s my mother but she just does my head in and always leaves me in a foul mood.  Surely that’s not normal?

PM

Good old Mum never lets us down.

And she was doing
so
well.  She told me I looked nice and didn’t follow it with a
‘but’
, she commented on the delicious food and she congratulated us on our moving house news.