Forever Is Over (134 page)

I grabbed my willy at the pubic hair
end and gave it a few hopeful
shakes. Nothing stirred. In frustration, I peeled the condom off and
carried it to the en-suite knowing at least I would have the small
consolation of making it into a water bomb.

“
Goodnight Richie!
”
Jemma murmured with her face buried in a pillow.

Goodnight babe!
”
I replied.

“
Vasectomy it is then?
”
Jemma stated rhetorically.

“
Vasectomy it is,
”
I agreed,
“
vasectomy it is.
”

Once I was out of hospital, there was no reason to hang around in
Ormskirk. Whilst I had been on the critical list in intensive care, Roddy
had booked himself a few emergency days holiday, but once I was on the
mend and moved to a standard ward, he reluctantly headed back down
to London. Once Roddy left, the hospital seemed a lonely place and the
seven days I stayed there after his de
parture passed like months. We
spoke each day on the phone, but I was anxious to get back to Ealing
and back into work, to see whether this had been the relationship I
had been searching for. Harping back to Richie
’
s
‘
Black Jack Theory
’
,
I may have had
‘
Black Jack
’
for some time, but had forgotten to turn
my cards over.

The one thing I knew I needed to do before I left for London,
was to meet up with my sister. Whilst he was in the hospital with me,
Roddy had consistently stressed that I had been in the wrong to react
the way I did with Jemma. His opinion was I had no right to complain
about Jemma marrying Richie given t
hat I had effectively ended my
relationship with him, the moment I had fled to Amsterdam. I could
see his point, but it still seemed odd to me that Jemma would marry the
man she claimed that she hated most in the world. I did not, however,
want to be perceived by Roddy as petty and narcissistic and felt that if
I could show him that I had offered to make peace, he would view me
in a better light.

Meeting Jemma for an apologetic chat was not entirely straightforward
though as I had no idea where she lived. This puzzle was solved by a
friendly male nurse, called Matthew, who worked nights on the ward.
Late one night, when I was struggling to sleep, I had recounted to him,
parts of my story about my estrangement from Jemma, conveniently
forgetting to mention that the moment that triggered my disappearance
was when I killed my mother. I told Matthew that I was anxious to see Jemma again, as I had said some unkind things to her, when she had
visited intensive care and I had been remorseful since. Matthew was a
sucker for a sob story from a pretty girl, so took Jemma
’
s full name and
date of birth from me then re-appeared the following night clutching
a piece of paper with a printed copy of the electoral roll register for Richard & Jemma Billingham. Two days later, I was released from
hospital and just needed to decide whether I was going to visit Jemma
to kiss and make up or to scratch her eyes out!

It was not a re-union straight out of a Hollywood movie. That
morning, I had dropped Melissa off at school, then taken Jamie up to
nursery and watched as all the other children scattered like rainwater on
a puddle, as he approached. Having warned Jamie to
‘
be nice
’
which was
a bit like warning John Inman to play it straight. Free from children, I
drove up to the chemists.

Over the previous few days, I had noticed that I had been passing
a bit of blood and on inspection, could fe
el the offending pile, another
battle scar from childbirth, so wanted to nip up to the chemists to buy
some cream. I would not consider myself to be overly prudish, but cream
for piles ranks up there with tablets for threadworms in the cringe factor
stakes. You just feel as though you might as well be wearing a T-shirt
that announces,

“
My poo is not looking how it should.
”

As I left the chemists, with a face the same crimson colour as my
toilet bowl, Kelly was stood outside, wa
iting for me. Given I had left
Ormskirk hospital, a week earlier, with her insisting that if she never
saw me again it would be too soon, this was one hell of a surprise.

“
Kelly! What are you doing here?
”

“
I
’
ve come to see you, Jemma.
”

“
At the chemists?
”

I have read before about sisters having a sixth sense, but for Kelly
to know that I had gone to get cream for my sore bum, seemed too
inspired.

“
I didn
’
t know you were going to t
he chemists! I found out where
you lived, so was just heading there from th
e train station and bizarrely,
on my way, I saw you get out your car a
nd head into the chemists, are
you OK?
”

Kelly gestured at the bag I was holding, with the cream inside.
“
This? Oh, it
’
s just vitamins for the kids. Need to keep the coughs
and colds at bay.
”

“
Right,
”
said Kelly, sounding even with that one word like a childless
woman, before adding,

“
Jemma, we need to talk. I said things at the hospital that I had
no right to say. Can we go somewhere to talk it through? I want to put
things right.
”

“
Come back to mine.
”

“
Is it just number thirty one, down that second road on the right?
”

“
It is, but just get in the car, save your legs.
”

Kelly hesitated,

“
I
’
d rather walk, Jemma, if you don
’
t mind. I
’
ve got a thing about
cars at the moment.
”

Given the car in question was a courtesy car to replace the one that
Kelly had nearly lost her life in, I can
’
t say I blamed her.

             
“
OK. See you up there in a few minutes. I
’
ll put the kettle on.
”

I was na
ï
ve. I thought when you made an appointment to see your
GP about having the snip, they just booked you in and that was that,
I had no idea that they had a moral duty to emotionally torture you
first. Dr. Whiteside eyeballed me like this was
‘
Who Wants To Be A
Millionaire?
’
and I had just provided a very uncertain answer.

“
So, you are absolutely 100% sure about this, Richie? I do not do
vasectomies myself, but if I do refer you over to Dr. Allison, in Leyland,
I know that he makes a larger cut into the vas deferens than most other
Doctors, specifically to ensure the procedure is not reversible. So even in
later life, if you decided that you wanted to change your mind, it would
be virtually impossible, there would be no turning back.
”

To me, this seemed like an unnecessary warning. Women are tough,
so they may have unwanted pregnancies and subsequently endure a
painful labour, but men, on the whole, are weak and have a lower pain
threshold, so there is no such thing as an unwanted vasectomy. If a man
is prepared to have his privates tampe
red with, by a Doctor wielding
a scalpel, a lot of thought has already gone into the decision making
process.
”

I levelled with Dr. Whiteside.

“
Dr. Whiteside, I have two perfectly healthy children, Melissa and
Jamie, who are now coming up to six and four. They are fantastic
children, but at the same they are a handful, more than enough for any
parents. Both Jemma and I are one million percent sure that we do not
want any more children.
”

Dr. Whiteside fidgeted. He did no
t have his customary dickie bow
on, if he had, I am sure
that would have been twiddled.

“
Have you given any thought to how you would would feel if your
circumstances changed?
”

This was a relevant question, I guessed. Dr. Whiteside had probably
arranged many vasectomies for men who subsequently divorced and
re-married a new wife who was keen to have children with her seedless
spouse. In the midst of our marital troubles, this had been relevant to
me, but now with our marriage through i
ts difficult stage and on firm
ground, I knew we would never allow ourselves to experience those
times again.

“
Jemma and I have a strong marriage, Dr. Whiteside. I suppose like
all couples, we have had our good and bad times, but we will never, ever
split up. We know having a vasectomy is the right thing for us to do.
”

“
OK,
”
Dr. Whiteside said,
“
but what if something tragic happened?
You know as well as anybody that life can deliver ill health at any time
without warning.
”

This seemed like a strange line of questioning. We were wanting a
vasectomy not IVF treatment.

“
Like what?
”
I asked, confused.

“
I think when having a vasectomy, you have to picture the worst case
scenario and ask yourself whether, in those circumstances, you would
regret the vasectomy?
”

“
Like if Jemma died?
”

“
Or one or both of your children,
”
Dr.Whiteside helpfully added,
“
can you be sure that if anything ever happened to Melissa or Jamie, that you would not want more children?
”

I thought this was an outrageous question.

“
My children aren
’
t goldfish, Dr.Whiteside. If one of my children
tragically died, I would not want Jemma to pop another one out, in
the hope that in a few years time, nobody would notice! Irrespective of
circumstances, Jemma and I would not want any more children.
”

Dr. Whiteside looked relieved, like a man who was compelled to
ask the questions, but was thankful that the verbal jousting had come
to an end.

“
I am sorry I had to ask, Richie, but before I refer you to Dr. Allison,
I have to be absolutely certain that you are aware of the finality of having
a vasectomy.
”

I gave him an understanding smile.

“
I know it
’
s your job to ask, but we are certain about this.
”

“
OK, that
’
s fine. My secretary will put the referral in pl
ace and
Dr. Allison will be in touch. He normally carries out the procedure a
couple of evenings a week.
”

“
How long is the waiting list?
”

“
It varies, it can sometimes be a couple of months, but I believe it
’
s
not as long as that currently. I would expect you to receive a date that is
in the next four to six weeks. Is that going to be OK?
”