Will You Remember Me? (32 page)

‘That’s what I said!’ Peg stood with her palms turned upwards as if to say, ‘Go figure!’

Poppy climbed the stairs and knelt down by the side of the bed where Max slept. She watched the rise and fall of his rounded tummy. ‘Oh, Maxy! Look at you,’ she whispered. ‘I missed you, my beautiful boy.’ She kissed her fingers and touched them gently to his rosy face.

As she turned to leave, Claudia appeared in the doorway with a mug of tea. ‘Here you go. You look so tired, my love.’

‘I am a bit. Thank you for my tea and thank you for looking after them so well.’ Poppy kissed her on the cheek.

‘Digger! Three… four… five… Hello, my mummy.’ Poppy handed her drink to Claudia and with difficulty lifted her baby boy from his bed, covering him in kisses. ‘Hello, Maxy! You’re awake! I have missed you so much.’

‘Muuuum!’ Peg shrieked from downstairs. ‘We need to go on the trampoline to celebrate being home!’

‘Tampoline now,’ Max offered as he wriggled free from Poppy’s grip.

Poppy looked at Claudia and grimaced. ‘Bloody marvellous. That’s just what I need.’ She pulled her pashmina over the shoulders of her shirt and vest, needing the extra layer. She gripped the bannister and made her way down the stairs, taking each step slowly and deliberately.

Martin hovered by the trampoline. ‘Peg wants to celebrate.’

‘Quite right too.’ Poppy forced a small smile.

‘And you, Granny Claudia – you have to come on too!’

‘I think I’ll watch. I’m too old and creaky for trampolining.’ Claudia grimaced at Peg, who stood in the middle of the black, springy circle.

‘That makes two of us,’ Poppy whispered as she tried to haul herself up onto the trampoline. Martin shoved her from behind – undignified, but it did the trick.

Martin lifted Max on and watched as he raced around in a small circle then fell down, laughed and tried to stand again.

Poppy looked at their little family and thought about the last time they had bounced in celebration, only eight or so months ago, when, so full of optimism for the coming year, they had jumped and laughed, before collapsing under the winter sky.

‘The question is, Cricket family, how many jumps? I think we should let Mummy choose.’

Poppy caught the flicker of concern that crossed his brow. She gave him a small smile.
I’m okay, I can do this.

‘Well, I think two.’ She stroked her chin.

‘Two? No way!’ Peg yelled. ‘It has to be at least seven!’

‘Seven?’ Poppy gasped. ‘You are kidding! What do you think, Daddy?’

‘I say we split the difference, let’s go five!’

‘FIVE!’ Peg yelled as she bounced, quickly reaching and surpassing the agreed number.

Max sat on the trampoline in front of his sister, giggling as he got tossed and flung about in the wake of her jumps. Martin trod tentatively, trying not to trample on anyone.

Poppy suddenly turned to look at Claudia, a stricken expression on her face. ‘Claudia…’ she mouthed.

Claudia rushed forward and stood at the edge of the trampoline, reaching up to try and help lift Poppy down, but she couldn’t quite manage it.

It was the first time Claudia had seen Poppy cry like this in front of the kids. ‘Whatever’s the matter, love? Are you okay?’ She reached up again and grabbed at Poppy’s arms, awkwardly trying to get her to the ground. The bouncing made it hard for her to get a grip.

Martin looked over and could see something was wrong. ‘Everyone keep still! Hold onto Maxy tight, Peg, don’t let him go until I take him from you in a minute. Okay?’

Peg nodded. Her desire to bounce had gone and this felt a bit scary.

Martin waded to where Poppy had slumped. He gripped her arm, worried. ‘What’s the matter? What’s happened?’

Poppy shook her head and fought for breath through her tears.

‘Poppy! This isn’t like you,’ Claudia coaxed. ‘How can we help? Have you hurt yourself?’

Poppy sat on the edge of the trampoline and placed her face in her hands. ‘I’ve wet myself.’

‘Oh, darling. Poppy, darling! I’ll go and fetch your dressing gown.’ Claudia ran into the house, trying to locate something that would spare her blushes and shield her from the children.

Martin sat down next to her. ‘It doesn’t matter, it’ll be okay, love.’

‘It won’t, Mart. The reason I wet myself is because I can’t feel my legs. I can’t feel much at all.’

Peg handed Max to her dad and sat on the other side of her mum, who was now lying on the edge of the trampoline. She reached out and took her mum’s hand inside her own. With her head on Poppy’s shoulder, her voice was clear and calm. ‘Don’t worry, Mummy. Do you remember what you told me? Everyone wees somewhere they shouldn’t at least once and no one minds a jot.’

Poppy wrapped her arms around her little girl and cried even harder.

Poppy opened one eye and noted the bright, white ceiling. Next she opened both eyes and saw a plastic tube floating above her, connected to what, she wasn’t sure, but probably some part of her. There was a window to her right with white vertical blinds, pulled shut. A piece of machinery beeped in the distance. She couldn’t instantly remember where she was: not St Lucia, but not home either. The mechanical beep got louder and she realised she was in hospital. The Great Western Hospital in Swindon, to be precise. Thankfully, she was in a quiet side ward, and the only other bed was unoccupied.

She remembered being on the trampoline and Martin standing in front of her on the grass with Max in his arms. He had looked afraid. When he spoke, his voice had been tight, panic-stricken.

‘I’m going to call an ambulance, Poppy. Okay?’

She thought she might have nodded. No argument.
Okay
. She needed help and she knew it. The ambulance men had been red-faced and jolly, making jokes and being overly familiar. It was all part of their practised banter and designed to put the patient at ease. Poppy had smiled weakly but really just wanted silence. When was that? Today? Yesterday? Last week? She had no idea. Her throat was dry.

‘Hey, hello, sleepyhead.’

She turned her head slowly to see Martin, who was sitting in a green vinyl wing-backed chair by her side. He looked crumpled and tired.

‘Are the kids okay?’ Her voice sounded weak, reedy.

‘They’ve got Claudia at their beck and call, a big bowl of popcorn and
Despicable Me 2
on DVD – they are more than fine. I spoke to them a little while ago.’

Poppy smiled. She could hardly keep her eyes open.

‘Go back to sleep, love. I’ll be right here when you wake up.’

Poppy looked at the end of the bed and there, standing in front of her, was her nan, Dorothea. She was wearing her favourite soft pink jumper and her navy blue slacks. Her hair looked neat and she was smiling.

‘Hello, Poppy Day.’

‘Hello, Nan. What you doing?’ Poppy was so pleased to see her.

‘Oh, just checking in on you.’

‘I met Simon. I stayed with him. He’s lovely.’

‘I saw. He
is
lovely, isn’t he? Takes after his dad.’ Dorothea’s eyes misted over.

‘Am I dead?’ This suddenly occurred to Poppy.

‘No, Poppy Day, not dead. Just dreaming, my darlin’.’

‘I’m scared, Nan.’

‘Course you are. That’s normal. But there’s no need to be, I promise. And you know I don’t make a promise easily, don’t you?’

Poppy nodded. Yes, this she knew. ‘I’m worried I won’t go home again…’ Poppy felt a sob building in her throat and the sting of tears at the back of her eyes.

‘Don’t you cry. No need, my girl. You’re going home in a couple of days.’

‘Promise?’ Poppy mouthed.

‘I promise.’ Dorothea patted her toes.

‘I don’t want to leave them – Peg and Maxy.’

‘I know, but you won’t leave them, not completely. You can keep an eye on them. Trust me.’

‘You seem happy, Nan.’

‘Oh I am! All I ever wanted was a garden. I never got one, but I longed for one even so. Simon’s dad always thought it was amazing how you could take a tiny seed and, with a little bit of care and attention, watch it grow into something strong and beautiful. That’s what I do here.’

‘Are you lonely, Nan?’

Dorothea laughed loudly, tipping her head back and shaking it. She looked to her right, as if gazing at someone in the wings. ‘Oh no, my girl. I’m not lonely, not for one second.’

‘I’m going to miss so much.’ Poppy felt her tears fall and soak into the pillow, leaving a hot wet streak against the side of her head.

‘Listen to me, my girl. You may not see the sun every day, and the moon won’t shine on you, but I promise you will still be in the light, everlasting light. Remember that and remember that I love you, Poppy Day.’

Poppy nodded. ‘I love you.’

‘I love you too.’ Martin replied to his wife’s words, spoken suddenly and strongly. He beamed and held her hand, feeling the ropes of discord slip away.

The next morning, Mr Ramasingh appeared at the bottom of her bed. ‘Ah, Mrs Cricket, looking tanned and lovely, I see. How was St Lucia?’

‘Wonderful.’

‘Good, good. But now you’re not feeling so hot?’

Poppy shook her head.

‘I’ve had a look at the tests they ran when you came in and there’s a couple of things going on. Firstly, you have quite a lot of calcium in your bloodstream. Hypocalcaemia, which with your type of cancer is quite common.’

Poppy pictured the bastard cells in their leaky pedalos.

‘Have you been feeling sick and drowsy, excessively thirsty, a bit confused?’

Poppy nodded.

‘Yes, well, the good news is that we can administer fluids intravenously and after a couple of days on a drip we can flush the calcium from your system and you will feel a lot better.’

‘Good.’ Poppy smiled.

‘The other thing that’s happening is that because your bones are damaged, your spine has become weakened and is compressing.’ He pushed his open palms together, as though he were playing an imaginary squeeze box. ‘This is causing the numbness in your legs. Are they any better today?’

Poppy nodded. ‘Yes, it comes and goes.’

‘Okay, Poppy, we’ll get you hooked up and once we get your calcium levels under control you will feel significantly better. Rest up and I shall be in to see you tomorrow. Okay?’ He beamed.

‘Okay.’ Poppy did her best to return his smile.

Poppy heard Peg’s voice before she saw her. Propping herself up on her pillows, she smiled and closed her eyes. She knew Peg liked to wake her with a kiss.

Peg bounded into the hospital ward, full of beans and full of chatter; she had lots to report, having been back at school for one whole day. Poppy peeked from beneath her lids and was happy and relieved to see that Peg wasn’t alone. She was holding a woman’s hand and that woman was her Aunty Jo.

Poppy opened her eyes. The two women stared at each other in silence; neither could say who smiled first.

‘Hello, mate,’ Jo offered.

‘Hello, mate,’ Poppy replied, acknowledging that that was indeed what they were – friends. Friends who at different times had needed each other and friends who needed each other right now.

Without saying another word, Jo pulled the chair closer to Poppy’s bed and took her hand into her own. The words of Poppy’s email sat behind their eyelids,
we are lucky to be in each other’s lives, you can never have too many people that have got your back. This is especially true for Peg and Max who will need you, Jo.

Peg was delighted to report that Jade McKeever had loved her friendship bracelet from St Lucia, even if she wasn’t quite so keen on being best friends with the mysterious Matilda, who she had no intention of letting join their club, no matter how cool she was or her ability to chase a naughty chicken into its pen.

‘And look! I made you a card!’ Peg thrust the folded piece of paper under Poppy’s nose. On the front was a drawing of Poppy sitting on the edge of the trampoline with a large pool of yellow beneath her. Peg had drawn an arrow to the puddle and written the word ‘wee’ just in case there was any doubt.

‘Thank you, Peg. Very creative. I love it.’ Poppy smiled and showed the picture to Jo, who laughed. This was definitely one for her memory box.

‘I think Jade missed me when I was away, Mum. I don’t think she liked hanging around with Maisie.’

‘Who, Maisie the hoodlum who runs the “I’ve seen your willy” club?’

‘Mum!’ Peg giggled and climbed onto Jo’s lap.

‘The what club?’ Jo clutched her chest in horror.

Poppy laughed. ‘It’s a long story. I’m sure Peg can fill you in.’

‘Jade said about when she came to tea and we had that chocolate fountain – that was the best day of my life!’

Poppy grinned. It had been worth the hassle, drama and expense.

‘What’s that machine thing?’ Peg stared wide-eyed at the drip and its little plastic tube that snaked its way down to the back of her mum’s hand.

‘Oh, it’s just my drip, giving me fluids and things that will make me feel better.’

‘Your skin is a bit grey, Mum. You look like a statue, but a moving one.’

This made Poppy draw breath; it was how she pictured herself, like stone, crumbling from the inside out. She saw the wobble to her daughter’s lip. ‘I don’t know about you, but I’m already missing that St Lucian sunshine!’ She tried to sound perky, distracting. ‘How’s Max?’

‘He’s being a bit whiny, but Daddy said to say he is fine.’ Peg looked up and bit her cheek, wondering if she’d broken a secret.

‘I miss that Maxymoo, I miss you both. But it won’t be forever; in fact, just another couple of days.’ Poppy stroked Peg’s hair.

‘I told you, Peg, that it wouldn’t be for long,’ Jo said.

‘Aunty Jo’s right.’

‘Have you stopped wetting yourself now?’ Peg asked matter-of-factly.

Poppy saw the old woman visiting the new occupant in the next bed prick up her ears.

Jo gave a loud burst of laughter.

‘Yes, for the time being, thank you.’

‘Well that’s good, Mum. And there is one other thing that I
know
I’m not supposed to tell you, so I won’t!’ Peg looked pleased with her self-restraint.

‘Oh you have to tell me now!’ Poppy pleaded.

‘I can’t, I promised. But I can say it has something to do with Lanzagrotty.’ Peg hoped this wasn’t too much of a clue.