Two-Hundred Steps Home Volume Five, Page 2

  Claire tried to imagine what her parents would think about it and realised she had no idea. Probably they would think the same and force her to have some hideously formal event at the Country Club.

  “When’s the wedding? Will you have a big do?”

  “We can’t afford it. Jeff’s wages are more than mine, but only just. Actually, your blog has given us an idea. We thought we might see if we could hire one of the smaller hostels and invite all our friends for the weekend. Ask them to pay for their room instead of bringing a gift. What do you think?”

  “I think it sounds brilliant. There are some gorgeous buildings,” she gave Kim a cheeky grin, “and I can write about it for my blog!”

  ***

  FIVE

  “Have you booked a date for the wedding? I'm guessing it will have to be soon, not that you're showing.” Claire leaned back in the sand and looked over at her friend.

  Kim laughed, patting her flat stomach. “I am: I just breathe in! I have to hope the baby doesn't get too big before the show's finished. Our Director will have a fit. We'll be a laughing stock if the audience notices Puck is pregnant.”

  “That doesn’t seem right: Aren't there rules about discrimination these days? Surely he or she will be applauded for their political correctness.”

  “There isn't much political correctness in the acting world, my dear. I'll be considered too old for many roles in a year or two. I'm lucky I'm petite and slim, it hides my age. Not that I'll be slim for long.” She frowned and stared down the beach, where Jeff and Sky were engaged in a sandcastle competition. Sky was cheating, flattening Jeff's castles every time he went to collect water or shells.

  “You make it sound like we're ancient.” Claire shielded her eyes from the afternoon sun. “Actually I feel pretty ancient, although at least Sky hasn't had nightmares for a day or two. I think I actually got six hours sleep last night.”

  “Is it really so bad?” Kim's voice suggested she didn't really want to know the answer. “Being a parent, I mean.”

  “I'm the wrong person to ask. What do I know about parenting?” Claire gave a dry laugh, picturing some of Sky’s more spectacular tantrums.

  “Well, you know more than me.”

  “I thought you attended antenatal classes or something?” Sky tried to remember what pregnant women in the office had wittered on about in the past. She mostly tuned out their chatter, but some of it had obviously gone in.

  “Oh yes, there are classes, but they seem to be about getting through labour and keeping the kid alive for the first few months. What about after that? There don't seem to be any lessons on how to deal with it when they flirt with your friend's boyfriend...”

  Claire drew breath but Kim jumped in, “I'm joking! Seriously, though. Who teaches you about discipline and what games to play, how to deal with bullying or if your child is the bully.”

  Claire could see Kim getting emotional but wasn't sure what to say. “I guess you just figure it out. Or you ask your friends, or your Mum.” She thought about trying to have that conversation with her mother, and whether she would choose to raise children the way she was raised. “Maybe not the last one. I think we all want a different childhood to the one we had.”

  “Not me, I had a great childhood. It was when I had to grow up it got hard.” The girls laughed.

  “Well, let me ask you, how did you learn to be an actress?”

  “I went to drama school.”

  “So maybe kids learn all they need to know at school. And there are books and the internet. There are all sorts of parenting blogs following mine since I started writing about travelling with Sky. You'll be fine. Concentrate on the wedding instead. Are you going to have a big white frock?”

  “I might need it to hide the bump!”

  They settled into the sand and swapped ideas about food and music. Claire felt herself relaxing, as the sun warmed her skin and Sky's laughter floated on the sea breeze. The phone rang and she considered ignoring it. It's probably Michael. Now's not the time to talk to him, with my head full of babies and weddings. The ringing stopped then immediately began again. Damn it, just go away, I’m trying to relax.

  People began looking around to see who wasn't answering their phone. She reached in her bag and put the phone to her ear, unable to see the caller name in the bright sunshine.

  “Hello.”

  “Claire, it's Dad.”

  She sat up, her skin suddenly cold and her stomach churning. Her father never called.

  “Your mother told me to ring. She's at the hospital. You need to come home love, you and Sky. Ruth's had a turn for the worse.” His voice shook and that, more than his words, cut through and left her shaking. Claire dropped the phone, her mouth dry and her mind blank.

  ***

  SIX

  The sky went dark. Claire looked up, surprised, wondering if the shock had affected her vision. A tiny cloud masked the sun, temporarily plunging the beach into shadow.

  “Claire, are you okay, you look dreadful. Who was on the phone?”

  “Dad. My sister... He said Ruth's back in hospital and we have to go home.” She drew in a shuddering breath and ran her hands through her hair. “What am I going to tell Sky? Look at her, that's the happiest I've ever seen her.”

  Both girls watched as Sky tipped water into the moat round her sandcastle, flicking some up at Jeff and giggling as he threw seaweed at her.

  “Tell her Ruth misses her and wants to give her a cuddle.”

  Claire looked gratefully at her best friend, knowing she would have blundered in with the truth. That's why Kim will make a brilliant parent and I wouldn't. She picked up the phone to see if her Dad was still connected. He wasn't and she called him back.

  “Sorry, Dad, phone got cut off. Tell Mum we'll be home in three hours depending on traffic.”

  Her father assured her he would and wished her a safe journey. Even that many extra words surprised Claire and, for the first time, she wondered how her parents felt about Ruth's illness. For all their distance they had still brought Ruth into the world. It must be terrible to consider that she might leave it before they did. No parent should ever have to bury their child. Another good reason not to have any.

  “Sky, sweetie, can you come here for a moment?”

  The little girl looked up, her cheeks flushed from sun and excitement. Claire’s stomach tightened. Life is too cruel.

  Sky ran up the beach and threw her arms around Claire. “I love you, Auntie Claire. Don’t say it’s time to go, please. I’m having so much fun.” She pouted. Claire thought of all the times that pout had irritated her, and wished she could take them all back.

  She’s just a child. We make them grow up so fast. She’s got nearly a century of life ahead of her to do as she’s told, feel the pressure of the world on her. Why couldn’t I let her have more fun now? Before this. She shook off the thought and pulled an approximation of a smile onto her face.

  “Grandpa just called, poppet. Your Mummy really misses you and wondered if you would like to go home for a cuddle.”

  Sky’s face froze as the words settled and she decided how to react to them. Claire could almost see the thoughts competing for primacy: Sky’s desire to stay and play with Jeff versus her need to give her Mummy a hug. Claire’s breath caught in her throat as she waited to see what Sky’s response would be.

  “Why don’t we meet up with you guys next weekend, Sky? You could show me and Jeff around one of the places you like to go to.” Kim’s voice cut through Sky’s internal deliberations.

  Like a gust of sea breeze blowing away a cloud, Sky’s face cleared and she clapped her hands. “The Farm, we could go to the Farm.” Then she smiled at Claire. “Yes please, I want to go home and see Mummy. You’ll stay for a while, won’t you Auntie Claire?”

  Claire thought about her sister in hospital and Sky going home to an empty house. “Of course I will, darling. As long as you need.”

  Sky settled into Claire’s lap and wrapped her arms ar
ound her neck. Claire nuzzled into the soft blonde hair and let it hide her tears.

  ***

  SEVEN

  The road stretched relentlessly ahead of Claire, solid with Sunday evening traffic. To either side, fields as flat as glass met a distant horizon, with flocks of clouds filling the space in between. She tried not to let the lines of red lights make her impatient. There was one road home and the only thing to be gained by chaffing at the traffic was anger that had nowhere to go.

  Sky slumped in the passenger seat, sleeping after her long day on the sunny beach. A tiny smile illuminated her face, giving her the look of a cherub. You sleep my little angel. Enjoy your happy dreams while you can.

  A sharp sound rang through the silence of the car. Claire looked at the phone on the dash and mused whether to answer it. With a quick glance in the mirrors to make sure there were no blue sirens or panda cars around, Claire reached for the phone and raised it to her ear.

  “Hello, yes? I’m driving.”

  “So you are coming back then? Your father said you’d be home by now.”

  Claire bit back an angry retort. Challenging her mother at any time was an exercise in futility and for once she had reason enough to be curt, with her daughter in hospital.

  “Sorry, Mum, I’m not the only person heading back from the coast. The traffic has been horrendous. We won’t be much longer. Sky’s asleep.” She hesitated, afraid to ask her next question. Gripping the wheel with her free hand, she inhaled, her nostrils filling with the scent of sand and sun cream. “How is Ruth?”

  “Not good.” Her mother fell silent and Claire wondered if she wanted to know any more. She was about to hang up when her mother drew an audible breath and let it out in a long sigh. When she spoke again her voice was low, and gentler than Claire could ever remember hearing it.

  “Oh, Claire, the doctors think the tumour must have spread before they caught it. They say the chemo will help, but they’re fighting the wrong battle. They need to understand how far it has spread and adjust her treatment.”

  The words rang through Claire’s mind without making sense. Her mother sounded tired, beaten, but her words suggested hope. She wanted to ask more, but driving one handed in heavy traffic on the A47 was not the time.

  “I’m sure she’ll be fine, Mum. Ruth’s a fighter and she’s in safe hands.”

  There was silence, and Claire wondered if her Mother was drawing breath for a new sarcastic come back. When she did speak, her words were so unexpected Claire nearly drove into the tail-lights of the car in front.

  “You’re the fighter, Claire. You’re the one who has gone out and taken on the world. Ruth, well, she’s not strong like you.”

  Heat rushed to Claire’s face at the unexpected compliment. It rattled her more than her mother’s unaccustomed gentleness, more than Ruth’s illness. She felt wrong-footed by it, as if it was easier to know that her mother loathed her than to believe she really cared.

  As if needing to restore the balance, Claire heard her mother cluck her tongue. “Goodness, look at the time. Are you going to be much longer? I need you to take over at the hospital so I can go home and feed your father. You know he’s incapable of boiling an egg for his supper.”

  “What about Sky? I’m not taking her to see Ruth tonight. She’s exhausted and needs to be in bed.” She heard her mother chuckle and wondered what could possibly be funny.

  “Listen to you. Thought you didn’t have a maternal bone in your body. I’ll take her back with me, we can tuck her up in her bed. I’ll bring her in with me in the morning.”

  It took a moment for Claire to realise the implication of her words. So I’m spending the night at the hospital am I? I guess it makes a change from a hostel bed. Stifling a yawn, Claire focused on the sleeping face beside her, reminding her of what was important.

  “Okay, Mum, see you soon.”

  ***

  EIGHT

  Machines beeped and whirred in the darkness. Claire lay on the narrow bed and stared at the lights, unable to sleep or even close her eyes. The regular sound of Ruth’s breathing filled the tiny room. It felt comforting. As long as she’s breathing, she’s still alive.

  It didn’t matter what the doctors said: that Ruth was responding well to treatment, and would no doubt continue to respond well once they had established the extent to which the cancer had spread. That was her big sister, lying there on the bed. In a week she had aged a decade, her hair all gone, her skin almost translucent. What I wouldn’t give to hear her whinging about money or telling me off for letting Sky flirt with Jeff. Anything.

  She hadn’t spoken to her sister since her arrival. Her mother had given her a brief and unexpected hug in the car park, where they had agreed to meet so that Sky’s sleeping form could be transferred to her Nana’s car. Claire remembered the emptiness in her mother’s eyes that belied the upbeat words she managed to form with trembling lips. Unable to say all she felt, Claire had nodded in agreement at the request to spend the night, and had kissed Sky farewell. Since then she had lain on the uncomfortable mattress and watched the rise and fall of Ruth’s heartbeat on the monitor.

  Something moved in the dark and Claire was immediately on alert, adrenalin coursing through her arteries readying her for action. Ruth sighed gently and shifted position on the bed. The graph on the screen fluctuated then settled back into its steady rhythm, like the beating heart of a giant oak. Claire looked at the arms lying above the white sheet, with IV lines running out of each hand. More like a sickly sapling than a towering oak.

  Claire awoke with a start, unaware that she had nodded off. Darkness wrapped around her, but sounds from the corridor suggested it was nearer daytime than night. Her mouth was dry and her back ached from sleeping on the pull-down bed. Blinking open heavy eyelids, crusted with salt, Claire pulled out her phone and stared at the luminous numbers until they made sense.

  6am. The nurses must be starting their rounds. As if the thought was a summoning spell, the door swung open and a woman peered round into the room.

  “Is she still asleep?” The brusque normality of the nurse’s voice made Claire shiver.

  “Yes,” she responded, her voice a whisper. “Do I need to wake her?”

  “No, we’re doing the medication rounds but if she’s asleep she doesn’t need pain relief. Call if she wants anything when she wakes.” The nurse nodded towards the button behind Ruth’s bed, then pulled her head back behind the door like a timid turtle and the room once more fell silent.

  Claire willed her eyelids to close but they remained fixed wide, and she felt as if her eyes might disappear into her head completely. I wonder what time the restaurant opens. If I can’t sleep I may as well get a coffee.

  With the stealth of a ninja, Claire crept from the bed and tip-toed past Ruth. Her hand was on the door when it moved swiftly inwards, trapping her between the wall and the bed.

  “Ow!” Her exclamation resonated in the small space and was followed by a deep voice full of apology. The familiar sound rippled across Claire’s skin and two thoughts clambered through her brain: Great, that’s all I need, followed by, Thank god.

  Claire pushed the visitor back out the room with the door, freeing herself from her trapped position, then went out into the corridor, closing Ruth’s room behind her. Inhaling deeply she looked up at the newcomer and forced her cheeks to raise a slight smile.

  “Hello, Robert, long flight? I was just going for coffee if you’d care to join me.”

  ***

  NINE

  “How are Francesca and the boys?”

  Robert looked up from his coffee as if the question surprised him. “Fine. They’re fine.”

  He looks uncomfortable? What’s that all about? “Did they come with you?”

  “No.” The word shot out like a bullet. “No,” he said again, more softly. “Can’t take the boys out of school, you know.”

  Claire tried to work out how old Jack and Alex were, and realised she had no idea. How can I not know
the ages of my own nephews? I really am a rotten Auntie.

  They sat in silence, sipping coffee and watching hospital staff stride in for their takeaway caffeine. A pocket of strained calm surrounded them and Claire was glad for her heavy eyes and foggy brain. There was no urge to fill the emptiness with conversation. Not that I’ve ever figured out what to say to Robert. You’d think by our age, a six-year gap between us would be irrelevant. Sometimes it feels like a hundred-year gap.

  She looked at Robert, his uncrumpled shirt buttoned to the collar, despite the early hour and long journey. He looked like a nineteenth-century doctor, not a twenty-first century businessman. Whatever it is that he actually does over there in Geneva. I have no idea about that either.

  “How is Ruth?”

  Robert’s question startled her, and she spilt coffee across the table. Keeping her eyes focussed on mopping up the spreading liquid, Claire shrugged. “How much do you know?”

  “Only what Mum told me on the phone, yesterday. That the cancer has spread and they need to change her treatment.” His matter-of-fact tone set Claire’s nerves on edge. She raised her head, about to expostulate, and saw the red tinge surrounding his eyes.

  Dropping her head back to the table, away from the horrific image of her brother close to tears, Claire shrugged again. “You know as much as I do, then. I guess we’ll know more later, when the doctor has done his rounds.” In her mind she added, When you have spoken to the doctor. What were big brothers for, if not to deal with the authorities. Claire felt queasy at the idea of discussing her sister with the intimidating people bustling around the building. She waited, hoping Robert would pick up on her unspoken vibe.