The Last Days of Rabbit Hayes (7 page)

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Authors: Anna McPartlin

Tags: #Fiction, #General, #Contemporary Women, #Literary

BOOK: The Last Days of Rabbit Hayes
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‘What is there to talk about?’ Molly roared back.

‘Rabbit, our little girl, is dying and we’re supposed to protect her, Molly. Why aren’t we doing everything we can to save her?’

Molly was rooted to the spot. Her heart was aching, her stomach turning and her brain somersaulting. She needed to sit: her legs threatened to give way. She moved towards the chair. Her face must have paled so considerably that her husband, despite his anger, jumped out of bed, pulled out the dressing-table stool and settled her on it. She put her face into her hands and considered what he had said as he waited for her response.
Fight for her, Molly, for God’s sake. If you can’t do it, no one can.

Molly looked up into his eyes and spoke quietly but firmly. ‘If you ever accuse me of giving up on one of my kids again, I’ll take a carving knife to you.’ She stood up and grabbed her dressing-gown.

‘Molly!’ Jack shouted after her. ‘Please!’ His voice was breaking. ‘I’m begging you! Get her out of that death house, Molly.’

‘Fuck you.’ Molly walked onto the landing, biting back tears of anger and frustration.
How dare you, Jack Hayes? How could you?

Davey was at the top of the stairs. ‘He didn’t mean it, Ma.’

‘He did.’

‘Please, he’s just—’

‘Blaming me.’

‘It’s not like that.’

‘It’s exactly like that,’ she said. ‘He’s a coward, snivelling in her face, avoiding the responsibility, leaving it all up to me, then judging how I handle it. How fucking dare he?’ She went into the bathroom and slammed the door. Then she opened it, came out onto the landing and screamed as loudly as she could: ‘I have not given up, Jack Hayes. I will never give up, do you hear me?’

She turned back into the bathroom, closed the door and cried till she couldn’t cry any more.

Rabbit

Rabbit hated bed baths.

‘Oh, please run me a bath,’ she begged Michelle.

‘Are you sure?’ Michelle asked, her gloved hands resting on her hips.

‘I’d like to float for a while,’ Rabbit said.

‘OK, but I’m staying with you.’

‘Fine.’

‘Good.’

‘You can tell me your troubles,’ Rabbit said.

‘I don’t have any troubles.’ Michelle laughed. ‘I’m the luckiest woman in the world.’

‘Everyone has troubles,’ Rabbit said. ‘Give me something.’

‘Let me think about it.’

‘You have till the bath is drawn.’

‘You’re bossy, aren’t you?’ Michelle said.

‘You have no idea,’ Rabbit replied, with a smile.

She was lying in a bath of bubbles with a facecloth placed on her bony chest and her eyes closed. The water was so high it touched her chin.

‘Don’t slip now,’ Michelle said, dropping the lid onto the toilet and sitting on it.

‘Tell me your story,’ Rabbit said.

‘I asked my boyfriend of five years to marry me and he said no.’

Rabbit opened her eyes. ‘And?’

‘And he told me he had met someone else.’

‘And?’

‘We’re still living together in separate rooms.’

‘Why?’

‘Because we bought a house that’s worth half of what we paid for it, and even if we rented it out it wouldn’t cover a quarter of the mortgage.’

‘And the girl?’

‘She shares his room a few times a week.’

‘Jesus, that’s terrible. It’s not stage-four-cancer terrible, but it sucks big-time.’

‘Thanks, I appreciate the sympathy,’ Michelle said.

‘Are you seeing anyone?’ Rabbit asked.

‘I slept with an old boyfriend a week after we split up, but it was terrible . . . not stage-four-cancer terrible, but it sucked big-time.’ Michelle mimicked Rabbit, making Rabbit giggle.

‘Do you like anyone?’ Rabbit asked.

‘Nope, you?’

‘Mr Dunne’s not bad,’ Rabbit said.

‘Wow! That’s an image I really don’t care for.’

‘Well, it’s not like I get out much,’ Rabbit said, by way of explanation. ‘Besides, he’s nice, good bedside manner. He’s been with me since this all started.’

They were quiet for a while, both comfortable in silence; neither felt the need to fill empty space with meaningless words. After about ten minutes, Rabbit opened her eyes again and raised herself slightly. ‘I’m not planning on dying.’

‘I know,’ Michelle said.

‘I’m determined to get out of here.’

‘OK.’

‘You don’t think I can,’ Rabbit said.

‘I meet the most extraordinary people every day, Rabbit, men, women and children who survive days, weeks, months and years against all the odds. I won’t count you out.’

‘Thank you.’ Rabbit closed her eyes and slipped down into the bath again. ‘It’s lovely in here,’ she said. ‘I could stay like this for ever.’

When Rabbit found it difficult to hold her head up and was sleepy, threatening to slip under the water, Michelle lifted her out, wrapped her in warm towels and wheeled her into her bedroom. She dressed her in clean, soft, fragrant pyjamas and helped her into bed. Once she’d given Rabbit her pain meds, she tucked her in.

‘Ma will be here soon,’ Rabbit said.

‘What about your dad?’ Michelle asked.

‘I think he’s afraid to come here.’

‘I understand that,’ Michelle said, but Rabbit didn’t respond.

‘And Juliet.’

‘Who’s that?’

‘She’s my little girl.’

‘What age is she?’

‘Twelve.’

‘And her dad?’

‘A fling I had with an Australian guy who doesn’t even know she’s alive.’

‘You’re a dark horse,’ Michelle said.

‘I tried to track him down on Facebook once, but he’s either dead or living in a cave. That’s why it’s so important I don’t leave her, not yet.’

Rabbit’s eyes were closing and she was fighting hard to stay awake to make her point. ‘I’m staying right here. You’re not getting your room back any time soon.’ She was so tired her words were slurring a little.

‘I’ll hold you to that,’ Michelle said. ‘Now get some sleep. You’ll need your strength when your family arrives.’

Rabbit was asleep before Michelle made it to the door of the room.

Later she woke to find a hairdresser, a tall girl called Lena, from Russia, putting highlights in Molly’s hair. Michelle propped her up so that she could watch. Davey read the newspaper out loud and grumbled that the only article Molly and Rabbit were interested in was about a heartbroken novelist whose husband had left her for her sister.

‘You couldn’t make it up,’ Molly said, and the Russian agreed.

‘They should be shot,’ she declared. ‘Two bullets, one for each of them.’

‘I read two of her novels,’ Rabbit said. ‘She’s good.’

‘Well, at least she got another book out of it,’ Molly said.

‘Bestseller,’ Lena said.

‘Every cloud,’ Rabbit said.

It was nice, Davey reading the newspaper and grumbling, Molly getting her hair done, the hairdresser telling them about her holiday in Spain. It felt normal for a while, as if things could actually go back to the way they once were. Rabbit would recover and leave. She’d go back to work and raising Juliet.
It can still work out.

Molly looked much better with her hair done. Lena even inspired her to put on some makeup, telling her that darker eyes and a nude lip would suit her best. Molly applied it in the mirror while Lena massaged Rabbit’s head and Davey moved on to articles about the economy.

‘OK, what do we want? “Government hopeful of bank deal” or “Policy of extend and pretend can’t go on indefinitely” or “Tacit admission that austerity isn’t working”?’

‘I still don’t know what a promissory note is,’ Rabbit admitted.

‘IMF, ESM, promissory notes, austerity all mean two things: the death of Irish democracy and the middle classes,’ Molly said, ‘and those fuckers in government are too stupid, too frightened or too corrupt to do anything about it. We need to bring back hanging.’

‘Jaysus, Ma, don’t hold back,’ Davey said, and Rabbit and Lena laughed.

Grace arrived with Juliet in her school uniform just after five o’clock. She was hassled and Juliet was anxious.

‘You look good, Ma,’ Juliet said. Her voice was a little shaky but she kept a smile firmly plastered across her face.

Rabbit hugged her daughter for a long time. She kissed the top of Juliet’s head and whispered three words in her daughter’s ear. Grace remained silent during their exchange. When Juliet finally let go, Rabbit turned to Grace. She needed to lighten the mood before somebody cried. ‘Go on, bitch about the traffic. You know you want to.’

Grace dutifully obliged. ‘Over an hour to drop Jeffrey off to the clinic for bloods. We could have walked there quicker, and don’t talk to me about crossing the river to this place.’

Juliet laughed. ‘Grace called a man in a BMW a wonky-nosed wanker.’ She pushed herself back on the chair and swung her feet.

Rabbit smiled at her daughter. ‘A wonky-nosed wanker, huh?’

Juliet nodded and pushed her nose to the side. ‘It was like this.’

Rabbit chuckled. It was lovely to see Juliet acting her age.

Grace held her hands up. ‘I’m a bad person.’

‘How is Jeffrey?’ Rabbit asked.

‘He’s fine. We’ve caught it in time.’

‘Good,’ Rabbit said, and everyone in the room silently wished the same could be said for her.

‘How’s the diet going?’ Rabbit asked, with an inward smile, because she knew her nephew would be having none of it.

‘He’s threatening to run away.’

‘Not to worry, he won’t get far,’ Molly said, and Davey laughed.

‘Not funny,’ Grace said. ‘Bloody Ryan keeps calling him Fat Chops and I swear to God if Stephen tells one more fat joke I’m going to scream.’

‘He’s lost three pounds already,’ Juliet told Rabbit.

‘That’s great.’

‘Yeah,’ Juliet said. ‘How are you feeling, Ma?’

‘Great,’ Rabbit lied.

‘When are you coming home?’

‘I don’t know yet, Bunny.’

When Juliet was born, her grandfather, Jack, had announced that Rabbit had a bunny, and although the name hadn’t stuck, it had become a term of endearment. Juliet grabbed a chair and dragged it as close to the bedside as she could. She sat down and took the moisturizer from her mother’s locker, opened it and began to smooth it onto Rabbit’s right hand.

‘Because
I
can take care of you. I know your meds and we can turn the dining room into a bedroom if you can’t go up the stairs.’

‘You always take care of me,’ Rabbit said, brushing the hair out of Juliet’s face with her free hand.

‘So let’s go home,’ Juliet said.

‘You have school.’

‘I can take a week off, or I can get up extra early to do what’s needed, and we can ask Mrs Bird to drop in when I’m not there. I can leave a list of your meds and stay in touch with both of you by phone. Jane Regan lost her job two weeks ago so she’s home all day too.’

‘You’ve thought of everything,’ Rabbit said.

‘So?’

‘So let’s see how I am next week,’ Rabbit said.

Juliet looked as though she was going to burst into tears but she feigned a smile and nodded.

‘OK,’ she said, then squeezed out some more moisturizer and massaged her mother’s other hand. Everyone else in the room was silent. The weight of Rabbit’s lies lay heavily on every shoulder . . . but maybe she was right, maybe she’d be OK, despite everything Mr Dunne had said. After all, he was a consultant, not God.

When Rabbit’s pork chop was served, Juliet cut it up small. ‘Just try a little bit with some spud, Ma.’

Rabbit obeyed, but it was all she could do to swallow three spoonfuls. ‘Lovely,’ she said, and Juliet seemed pleased.

‘Would you like the ice-cream?’ she asked, taking the lid off the pot. Rabbit shook her head: she’d had enough. Juliet held it up. ‘Who wants ice-cream?’

Grace and Davey’s hands went up. Juliet looked at her mother. ‘The power,’ she said, and Rabbit grinned.

‘Go on, give it to Grace,’ Davey said.

‘Yeah, come on, I’m living on greens with Jeffrey.’

The others laughed. ‘Ha-ha,’ Grace said, grabbing the ice-cream and spoon. ‘Oh, yeah, that hits the spot.’

Juliet looked at her mother to share in the fun, but Rabbit had drifted away.

Davey nodded at Molly. ‘Let’s see what’s on the box, Ma.’ Molly turned on the TV and Juliet watched an old episode of
Friends
, holding her mammy’s hand.

Johnny

It was the night of Kitchen Sink’s first TV appearance. All the lads were getting ready at Davey’s after a quick rehearsal. Francie and Jay’s uncle Terry was to pick them up in his bread van, which doubled as the band’s tour bus. Grace was going with her da and even though her ma wouldn’t be found dead dancing around some TV studio, she was as nervous and excited as anyone else. The show was Ireland’s answer to
Top of the Pops
and it was a big deal to be asked on. That night Kitchen Sink would share the stage with stars from the UK and the USA. Francie and Jay were so excited they kept punching each other and getting into scraps. Davey kept running to the toilet until Molly was forced to medicate him.

‘Now I won’t have a shite for a week,’ he grumbled.

‘Better than having one on stage.’

Louis needed help with his braces. ‘I think they’re broken, Mrs H.’

‘They’re not. Just calm down and stop dancing about,’ Molly said.

Grace was necking vodka and orange with her friend Emily, both dressed to the nines but still preening each other every five minutes.

Johnny was quiet, sitting in a corner, dressed like a rock star and ready to play. Rabbit was beside him, strumming his guitar.

‘Don’t do that, Rabbit,’ Jack said. ‘We don’t want it going out of tune.’

‘It’s all right, Mr H,’ Johnny said. ‘Rabbit knows what she’s doing.’

Rabbit wasn’t allowed to go because she was too young. She’d moaned about it most of the day to her best friend, Marjorie.

‘When’s Uncle Terry arriving?’ Johnny asked.

‘In about half an hour,’ Francie answered.

‘Grand. So we have time for some tea,’ Jay said.

‘Good man, put on the kettle,’ Molly said.

‘I don’t feel much like tea. How about we go for a walk, Rabbit?’ Johnny suggested, and Rabbit nodded enthusiastically.

‘It’s freezing out there,’ Molly said.

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