Wildflowers (25 page)

It works out quite well, because
by the time we get to Lulubelle’s, we’re just in time for lunch.

‘Auntie Frankie
got us sweets,’ says Martha shyly, handing her the small paper bag. ‘We went to Mr Crowley’s shop.  He was cross.’

‘Was he?’ 
Lulubelle crouches down to Martha’s height.  ‘I’ll tell you something, sweetie.  He gets cross with your Auntie Frankie too – did she tell you?’

‘All I was buying was some lemons,’
I say innocently.  ‘And a bottle of tonic water.  Sill old…’  I roll my eyes.  ‘Can’t imagine what his problem was!’

‘Thank you for these,’
Lulubelle say to Martha.  ‘Shall we have them after lunch?’

Martha’s face falls
, but then Cosmo appears and she looks shy again.

‘New goalie for you,’
I tell him.  ‘Her name’s Martha.  But she needs some training.  And be gentle.’

Once he gets over that she’s a girl
, they go tearing off across the garden.  Martha’s shyness is soon forgotten and in no time there’s enough shrieking out there for about ten children. 

‘So how’s he been?’
I ask, as we set the table for lunch. 

‘
After all that worry, he seems fine.  There’ve been no more of those episodes.  Oh, and we’ve been over to Daddy’s.  It was great, actually.  He swam and Maria took him for a ride on a tractor.  Cosmo really liked them both.’

I
t seems Lulubelle’s laid a ghost or two for good. 

‘It
’s an amazing place, isn’t it?  I went there to talk flowers with Maria,’ I explain hastily, seeing her look of surprise.  ‘And those horses too…’

It’s still odd knowing that
I met Maria before she did.  Not that it matters...  ‘I know.  My father wants to buy a little pony for Cosmo...’

Which
I guess is just one of the advantages of having a rock star for a grandfather.

Lunch is pizza
– for Martha’s benefit, though I notice she leaves some, which isn’t like her.  Then after huge bowls of ice cream, Lulubelle and I relax in the sun while the children disappear off to make a den.

‘There haven’t been enough days like this,’
she tells me.  ‘It’s all I’ve ever wanted, really, to be blissfully, fantastically normal! They get on so well, don’t they?  Cosmo doesn’t see enough healthy kids – some of the mothers find it too
awkward
, I suppose the word is.  I think they’re scared it’s contagious.  But not all of them though – and Martha’s great.’

We listen to the shrieking from the bottom of the garden.
  Like she said, it’s all so normal.

‘Well, with luck, the worst is behind him,’
I say.  ‘And there’ll be lots more times like this in years to come.’

I want to believe it
as much as she does.  In fact, the conversation is still hanging in the air between us when out of the blue, the quiet is shattered by Martha, who comes tearing up the garden, screaming and crying, flinging herself into my arms.  I feel my blood run cold.  Cosmo’s nowhere to be seen.  Instinctively I know something’s wrong.

‘
Martha!  What is it?  Tell me
!’  I hold on to her.  ‘
What’s happened
?’

‘
He’s fallen over and he can’t get up
…’ she sobs.

But
Lulubelle’s already halfway across the garden.  We follow.  Under one of the trees, Cosmo’s body is very still, as if he’s sleeping.  She shakes him.

‘
Baby?  Cosmo?  It’s Mummy…’

But h
e doesn’t stir. 
Oh God, oh God…
What if he doesn’t wake up?  It’s the worst moment, the one I’ve dreaded. 
Oh please God, I’ll do anything, just don’t let this be it…

‘Call an ambulance,’
she screams.  ‘
Quick
…’

Holding Martha’s hand, I
run back up the garden trying to get a signal. Cosmo’s eyes are closed.  He’s breathing, but it’s barely a whisper. 

‘
Ambulance
,’ I cry, when at last I get through, giving them the address but hating how long it’s taking.  ‘
Please, please hurry
…’

By the time I’ve made the call, Lulubelle’s coming up the garden, cradling
him.

‘They’re on their way…’ 

Her face is stricken and there’s a look of anguish in her eyes.  ‘
This is all my fault, Frankie…  Remember, weeks ago, I told you he wasn’t right… I should have taken him to hospital but I didn’t…’

‘You didn’t know,’ I tell her.  ‘I saw him too.  He was fine…’

But she shakes her head.  ‘You should go.  Take Martha home.  Before the ambulance…’

She’s right
.  This is scary enough for Martha without seeing him carted off in an ambulance.  ‘I don’t want to leave you on your own.  I’ll call your Mum…’

O
nly then the ambulance arrives and I whisk Martha away.  All we can do now is wait.

It’s
another picture that’s burned into my memory.  Lulubelle, sitting on the ground, cradling Cosmo’s limp body in her arms, her face as white as his, her eyes wide with terror.

The ambulance seemed to take an age.  I helped
Lulubelle into the house, where she sat on the sofa, her eyes fixed on Cosmo’s face as she whispered gently to him. Then I called Lulubelle’s mother, who came straight over.  At that point, I took Martha home – reluctantly, but she was frightened enough without watching Cosmo being rushed off in an ambulance.

‘
You do know it really
wasn’t
anything to do with you,’ I explain to Martha, on the way.  ‘Cosmo’s very sick.  Everyone thought he was getting better until today.’

‘He has cancer, Auntie Frankie.  He told me.’  Her little face screwed up.  ‘What’s cancer?’

‘He has something wrong with his blood.  It’s got bad things in it which make him poorly.’

‘He said that’s why his mummy doesn’t give him pizza.’

And then I click.  ‘Pizza doesn’t give you cancer, honey… Just some people believe that if you eat the right foods, it can help you get better – and some are not so good.’

‘Is that why he was ill again?’

‘No.  It was nothing to do with it.  I had pizza too, remember – and so did Lulubelle.  Come on.  Let’s go in.’

Once we’re inside
, I explain to Dave what’s happened and he’s very understanding, just picks up Martha and gives her a hug, then suggests they go and watch a film together, winking at me and mouthing ‘thanks’, as he carries her into the sitting room.

Then I go home
to wait for news from Lulubelle.

Eventually, my phone does ring and I leap to get it – only it’s not her.

‘
How could you
?’ rages my sister.  ‘Poor Martha is traumatised.  Whatever were you thinking of, Frankie?’

‘They had a great time,’ I say carefully.  ‘Did you ask her about any of it
, Alice?  How they played football, had pizza for lunch then made a den?  That Cosmo was supposed to be in remission and now, it’s looking likely that he’s not?  I’m really sorry Martha was so upset,’ I tell her.  ‘But she’s a good kid and she’ll be fine, whereas Cosmo, on the other hand, might not be.’

It has the desired effect and I
can hear Alice deflate down the telephone.

‘It’s just that I wish you’d asked me, that’s all.’

‘What – if I could take my niece to see a friend who’s little boy has been ill?  Oh
Al
… Get real…’

‘Well, next time,
just ask me
– okay?’

She hangs up, leaving me feeling even sadder. 

When Alex calls me
that evening, I tell him what’s happened and promise to let him know when I hear from Lulubelle.  But it’s hours before she calls to tell me Cosmo’s been admitted, which was what she said would happen.  She sounds small and very frightened.

‘Let me come and sit with you,’ I offer.

‘Mum’s here, Frankie.  Honestly, don’t worry.  Get some sleep.  I’ll talk to you tomorrow.’

And the waiting begins -
for more tests, the results of which we can only guess at.  Even to me, it’s unbearable.

I ma
ke a posy for Lulubelle.  Mrs Orange would be proud of me.  No ordinary posy, either – every stem chosen with care and love. There’s heather for luck, little twigs of oak for strength and the first snowdrops for hope – Milo’s excelled himself, I’ve never seen them this early.

I
can’t bear the thought of waiting until she calls me, so I go over to her cottage, where her car is parked outside.  As she opens the door, she looks as though she hasn’t had a wink of sleep.  Her eyes are red and there are huge black circles under her eyes.

‘You were lucky to catch me,’ she says.  ‘I spent the night at the hospital
.  I only came back to get changed.’

‘I’ll make you
breakfast,’ I tell her.

‘I’m not hungry, Frankie
. I don’t think I could eat a thing.’

‘Look,
why don’t you go and have a shower?  I’ll make you scrambled eggs and then I’ll drive you to the hospital – okay?’

S
he sighs, but doesn’t argue, just trudges back upstairs.  While she’s up there, I put the posy in water, leaving it on her window sill while I start on the eggs.

She’s
desperate to get back to Cosmo.  After the quickest shower ever, she doesn’t talk, just eats the eggs in seconds and lets me drive without any argument.

‘Are you going to come and see him?’ she asks
, as I park outside the hospital.  ‘Only if you are, I better warn you he’s wired up to all these tubes and machines.  He was barely conscious, Frankie, when I left him.  It’s bad this time.  I can feel it.’

Her voice breaks
.  As we get out of my van, I take her hand.

‘It’s been bad before, hasn’t it?  And he got through it?’

She nods, but her eyes are full of tears.  ‘I don’t know how much more he can take, Frankie… I’m really scared.’

As we walk through the hospital,
I might think I know what’s coming, but I haven’t a clue.  Cosmo’s in a small, private room inside a children’s ward, looking tinier and more frail than I’ve ever seen him look.  Surrounded by all these machines beeping and whirring, I wonder how he can sleep – but he doesn’t stir.

‘You
really don’t have to stay,’ says Lulubelle.  ‘Honestly.  I’ll be here until they kick me out, longer if I make enough fuss.  But I can’t bear to be anywhere else.’

‘Well, I’d like to stay a bit too, if that’s okay?’

She nods again.

‘
It’s so unfair.’  Pointless words, but they’re out before I can stop them.

‘He was
such an easy baby,’ she tells me quietly, a far-away look in her eyes.  ‘He slept at night, smiled at everyone – you know, like he still does.  We’d just started at this playgroup.  It was one of the staff there who noticed.  This lovely lady who’d worked there for years - I remember her asking if he always got tired so easily. I hadn’t noticed, of course.  It was just how Cosmo always was, but then I think I told you - there were these bruises…’

I shake my head, imagining how awful it must have been.  What a shock, finding out.

‘They did all these tests and there wasn’t any question,’ she said.  ‘And the rest, as they say, is history…’  She sighs heavily. 

As
we sit in silence, there’s a knot of fear inside me too.  I think Lulubelle really believes that this time is different.  That however strong she is, she’s reaching the end of their precious time together.

‘Hang in there,’ I tell her
, squeezing her hand.  ‘We have to believe.  Miracles do happen, you know.’

I stay for a couple of hours, then when her mother arrives, I leave them to it.  As I walk across the car park to my van, my phone bleeps with a message.  From Alex.

You in later,
A x

Certainly am, going home now x

Ok b over soon

When he arrives, I fill him in about Lulubelle and Cosmo.

‘
He’s
really
poorly, Alex.  He looks so weak.  It’s awful…’  My voice wobbles.

He comes over and pulls me against him.  He’s strong and reassuring and warm, and leaning against him, I close my eyes, grateful that he’s here. 

‘I know.  Jessie always says, when you’re surrounded with children who are as ill as Cosmo, each time something happens, you’re shocked, and then you kind of get used to it.  It almost becomes normal again – until the next crisis.’

‘I’m not sure she expects him to get through this,’ I tell him.  ‘It doesn’t bear thinking about…’  I can’t bring myself to say
Cosmo dying
…

‘
It’s possible he might not,’ says Alex slowly, taking my hand and squeezing it, hard.  ‘He’s fought a tough battle, but he is a really sick kid…’

It turns out just
as Alex described. By the time November blurs into December, Cosmo being in the hospital has become the new normal – and though I find it hard to think about anything else, my clouds have a silver lining, because oh my giddy Aunt, I have a boyfriend!  Not only that, but he’s spending more and more time round at my place and is very adept at chopping firewood, which means for the first winter ever, my little flat is warm.  I will definitely keep him until the summer.

‘It’s nearly Christmas,’ I murmur in his ear one morning, with the duvet pulled up over our ears.  ‘What would you like for your present?’  I
lean over him, slowly tracing the line of his neck with my lips, which makes him pull me closer.

‘More of this!’ which was what I was hoping he’d say
, which is followed by much more kissing which of course leads to the most passionate sex that I can only describe as life-affirming.

Over breakfast, however, I notice he’s frowning.
 
Oh God.  What is it this time…

‘What are you doing over Christmas
, Frankie?’

‘Oh, I usually spend it with Alice.  She cooks tons of food and gets stress
ed and we have a great time.  I’m sure she’d love it if you were there too.’

‘Actually, I was wondering if you’d like to come to ours.’

‘What - you’re cooking at your house?’ I say incredulously.  Alex has many skills, as I’m finding out, but cooking most definitely isn’t one of them.

‘No…
with my family.  You know Jessie don’t you?  And my mother – and Bernie of course. What do you think?’

‘Have you asked
them?’  I’m a little bit taken aback.

‘Um – I have,’ he confesses.  ‘So?’

‘I suppose I could,’ I say, thinking fast.  ‘I mean, Alice is pregnant – she probably wouldn’t mind a quieter Christmas – and maybe we could go there in the evening or something?’

So
it’s decided – and I realise that if he’s asking me to his parents’ house, I must be much more than a fling.  It’s all very curious, but I don’t have much time to think about it because it’s a busy time of year in the shop, though not
too
busy with Honey helping Skye churn out wreaths at a rate of knots.  We have tons of orders for Christmas week and quite a few houses to decorate, and then, oh bliss, we close.

Mrs Orange trots in and out, muttering about nice paper ribbons when she knows I never touch them and how I ought to buy in them cheap ones and diddle them up.  I think she’s talking about wreaths but I don’t ask.

‘Actually, I think ours are rather lovely,’ I tell her.

‘They’re not bad,’ she says, cocking her head on one side and studying them.  ‘Only it wasn’t so much that.  You looked at your hands, duck?’

I have to admit I haven’t – and when I do, I gasp in horror.  ‘Oh!  They look like yours,’ I say, mortified.  ‘What am I going to do?’

‘Gloves, my lovely.
  Rubber ones with olive oil in.  And a sprinkle of salt.  Wear ‘em to bed.’

Oh, Alex will love that.  He’ll make all these
pervy jokes about rubber and fetishes and before I know it, it’ll be all round the police station, and they’ll all drive round here just to point their fingers and laugh at me.

‘You alright
, duck?’  She’s frowning at me.

Then I
realise, I’ve gone off on one of my paranoid excursions.  For the first time in ages.  Just a few weeks in the shop and already the stress is getting to me – but then it is Christmas and I am spending it with my boyfriend’s family for the first time… I’m looking forward to it, but at the same time, I’m slightly worried.