Miss Wrong and Mr Right (33 page)

Read Miss Wrong and Mr Right Online

Authors: Robert Bryndza

Tags: #Humour, #british comedy authors, #satire, #love sex and marriage, #romatic comedy, #British humour, #love stories

BOOK: Miss Wrong and Mr Right
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There was a silence.

‘Do you mean that?’ he asked.

‘Yeah. You ticked all the boxes. Funny, handsome, good in bed, treated me right.’

‘Then why didn’t you want to marry me?’ he asked.

We were now zooming down the motorway towards Devon. The trees either side were whipping past.

‘Jamie, let’s not talk about this now. There are other things to think about… And it was such a long time ago.’

‘It’s something I’ve always carried with me,’ he said. ‘I know that sounds over-dramatic and self-indulgent.’

‘It doesn’t,’ I said. I reached over and took his hand. ‘If I had the choice today, I’d probably marry you like a shot.’
 

I grinned, but he remained serious. I pulled my hand away.
 

‘Jamie! I’m talking with the benefit of hindsight! Could you imagine if we
had
got married? I was nineteen. I was clueless about life.’

Jamie’s phone rang cutting through the silence. He scrabbled around in his pocket and pulled it out. My chest tightened thinking that we were too late, but it was his Mum, asking where we were.

‘We’re about an hour away,’ I said seeing the sign for Okehampton swoop above the car. I put my foot down. The engine complained a little.

When Jamie came off the phone he was silent. He stared out of the window. The rain had stopped and there was a break in the clouds on the horizon, a blaze of white and gold with the sun and cloud attempting to cut through the storm.
 

It didn’t seem appropriate to continue what I was saying. We passed the last of the journey in silence, the weather improved and we were basking in heat and early evening sunshine as I pulled up at the hospital.
 

I found a parking space, and told Jamie to go for it whilst I sorted out the parking meter. He slammed his door and ran off for the entrance. I grabbed my bag, and fished out my purse. I stuffed as many coins into the machine as it would let me, and stuck the ticket in the car window. The sun was so beautiful as it sank down, toward the hills leaving long shadows. It didn’t seem right to be dying. My phone rang and it was Gran.

‘Natalie darlink,’ she whispered. ‘Is everything okay?’

‘We’ve just arrived at the hospital,’ I said. ‘Jamie’s gone inside…’

‘Where are you?’

‘I’m in the car park.’

‘You must go in. Support him…’

There was a muffled sound of a piano playing.

‘Where are you?’ I asked.

‘Do you remember Kieron and Steve from upstairs, who helped me after my operation? They invited me over for a party.’

‘What kind of party?’

‘Nothing involving leather, it’s a piano party. They’ve got a baby grand in the living room and another friend of theirs, Cecil, is playing beautifully. I’m just in the bathroom. There is a lot of Viagra in their medicine cabinet…’

My phone beeped. It was a text message from Jamie saying to go to Ward 4B on the first floor.
 

‘Go, Natalie,’ said Gran. ‘Just let me know vat happens.’

‘And you be careful,’ I said.

‘I’m a big girl. One drink and I’m going home,’ she said.

I locked the car and made my way into the main entrance. There is something about the smell of hospitals on a hot day – the heat, mixed with the sterile bandages and illness. I found Ward 4B, the door was closed and you had to buzz to be let in. I pressed the button and peered through the little glass window, but there was no one there.
 

I waited a few minutes and then saw Jamie’s mum and dad emerge from a room into the corridor with plastic cups. They sat on the bench and I could see the sadness on their faces. Jamie’s mum, Cassandra, had aged a little in the last fifteen years, she had let her hair go from dark brown to an ash blonde and it suited her. His dad, Bob, had aged the most, his hair had thinned away, and he was fuller in the face. They noticed me peering through the glass and stood up smiling; they came over to the door and opened it.

‘Oh Natalie,’ said Cassandra. ‘It’s so lovely to see you, and thank you for bringing Jamie at the drop of a hat.’

‘Nat, you look wonderful,’ said Bob.

‘I should go, I’m in the way,’ I said.
 

‘Nonsense!’ said Bob. ‘It’s all a bit…’ He looked at Cassandra. ‘Well, it’s all a bit touch and go…’

‘Please stay,’ said Cassandra taking my hand in hers. ‘It’s a case of waiting. Jamie is in there now with his brother, you remember Peter? Only two people allowed at one time so we came out to let them…’ her voice trailed off.
 

I sat with them for a few minutes. A woman was lying in bed in a private room opposite. The door was open and we could hear the rhythmic hiss of her respirator.

‘I heard you’re very successful in London?’ said Cassandra.

‘Yes. I run the theatre opposite the place Jamie is renting.’

‘And how has that been going?’ said Bob.

‘Oh it’s been fun to catch up; we’ve only been across the road…’ I lied.

I went to say more and Peter came out of the room. He looked sad, and he came and gave me a hug.

‘Would you like to go in?’ said Cassandra softly to me. ‘Mum was always fond of you…’

I couldn’t say no. They were sacrificing a little bit of the precious time they had left.

‘I’ll just pop in,’ I said. ‘Sorry that sounds wrong, I’ll…’

‘Natalie. You came. You brought Jamie. Nothing you could do is wrong,’ said Cassandra. I smiled and went to the door. I knocked softly then went in.
 

The inside of the room was bare and white. The sinking sun came through the blinds, casting a ladder of light over the soft blue blanket covering Nan. I struggled to recall Jamie’s grandmother’s real name, but I couldn’t remember. She would have to be Nan for now. The shape of her was small and thin under the blanket. Her face was peaceful and lined, but kindly so. Age hadn’t ravaged her. I could imagine each line was caused by a life well lived, with lots of laughter, and a fair share of stress, as is all of life. Her white hair was soft and long against the pillow. When I saw her eyes closed I thought for a moment I was too late, but Jamie looked up from where he was sitting at her bedside, holding gently onto her hand. Very quietly I took the seat opposite, the bed between us.

‘Hold her hand,’ said Jamie softly. ‘So she knows she’s not on her own.’

I took her hand which was warm and soft. The underside of her fingers was so smooth. She opened her eyes and smiled.

‘Hello,’ I said.

‘Natalie drove me here today, from London,’ said Jamie. Nan’s lips moved softly. Jamie leant in and she mouthed it again. Jamie laughed.

‘What is it?’ I asked.

‘She wants us to hold hands…’

I looked back at Nan and she smiled and inclined her head. He reached over and I took his hand, making a circle. She tried to say something, but there was a rattling sound and she coughed. She closed her eyes and we watched her for a moment.

‘Is she in pain?’ I whispered.

‘I don’t know,’ said Jamie.
 

We watched her for a few minutes more, listening to her rattling breathing. Then she breathed out and there was a horrible pause… and then she breathed in, her mouth opening wide. She breathed out and then there was another longer gap.

‘What should we do?’ asked Jamie.

‘I’ll go and get someone,’ I said leaping up and opening the door. When Cassandra, Bob and Peter saw my face, they hurried into the room. I felt Jamie at my side as he grabbed my hand. Nan was breathing but with increasing gaps in between.
 

‘The doctor said the morphine would let her slowly wind down,’ said Cassandra softly. She leant over and stroked Nan’s soft hair. ‘It’s okay Mum, you go, go and find Dad, he’s waiting for you…’

I went to leave, but Jamie gripped my hand. Nan gave another soft inhale, she exhaled, and then we watched.
 

Cassandra and Bob started to say the Lord’s Prayer, very softly; we all took hands and made a circle. As we spoke the words I watched as Nan began to go very white. I had thought she was pale when I saw her first, but all the colour seemed to drain away, so fast.
 

And then she was gone.
 

We stood in silence watching.

‘She’s not here anymore,’ said Cassandra breaking the circle and wiping a tear with the back of her hand.

‘Let me go and find a doctor,’ I said. I was shaking as I went out into the corridor, and I flagged down a passing nurse.

I left in the aftermath of the doctors and nurses quietly organising what would happen next. Jamie came down with me to the hospital reception, which was eerily empty. We stopped by the doors.

‘I’m sorry Jamie,’ I said hugging him. ‘I’m so sorry…’

‘Thanks,’ he said.
 

For a moment I rested my chin on his shoulder and smelt his hair, so warm and rich, just as I remembered it. We broke apart and he smiled weakly. I went to leave and then turned back.

‘Jamie, what I want to say is that I’m sorry about everything. I’m sorry about so much. Of course, this isn’t the time for that, but just know I’m here if you need me,’ I said.
 

We stared at each other for a long moment and then I felt his strong arms around me again. He pulled me in close and kissed me. I hesitated and then kissed him back. His face was wet with tears, and he kissed me harder, taking my face in his hands. I slid my hand up and under his t-shirt feeling his warm skin… and then he pulled away.

‘I’m sorry… I can’t. This is wrong. Sorry, I have to go now Nat, thank you for everything,’ he said.
 

I stood there, breathless from the kiss, and watched him walk away.

It was dark when I came out of the hospital to my car. The crickets were singing, and moths fluttered round the yellow street lamps above. My phone rang, it was Mum. She asked if I was okay and I burst into tears.

‘You sound like you’re in no state to drive back to London,’ she said. ‘You must come home. Don’t drive. Wait there. I’ll come with Dad, one of us can drive your car back here.’

When I came off the phone, I put my head against my car and sobbed.
 

I had never seen anyone die before.

Family

Mum and Dad picked me up from the hospital, and we drove back to the farm in convoy, with Dad driving my car behind. It was a very warm night and the sky was clear. The full moon was so bright, we barely needed headlights.
 

‘Mum, do you believe in God?’ I asked.
 

‘What a silly question,’ said Mum. We approached a red traffic light, and came to a halt at a deserted crossroad. Dad pipped the horn behind us. Mum wound down her window and stuck her head out.


NO! I’M NOT BREAKING THE LAW, MARTIN!
’ Mum mouthed at him behind us. He pipped the horn again and revved the engine. Mum shook her head.

‘So do you?’ I asked.

‘Do I what?’ asked Mum. The lights went green and we moved off.
 

‘Believe in God?’

‘Why do you ask?’

‘We said the Lord’s Prayer as Jamie’s Nan passed away. It got me thinking about where she went…’

‘Of course we believe in God.’

‘And do you think there’s just one God?’
 

‘Yes,’ said Mum.

‘What do you think he’s like?’

‘I think he’s a nice man, he likes people, um, he made the earth in a week, and enjoys a nice rest on a Sunday,’ said Mum.

‘You make it sound like you’re summing him up as a contestant on
Blind Date
,
’ I said. We reached the farm and Mum pulled into the drive followed by Dad. She switched off the engine.
 

‘Natalie, you’ve obviously had a shock, being there when Jamie’s Nan… departed. Why don’t we open a nice bottle of wine, have something to eat and then you should rest.’

I nodded.

‘And if you must know, I always say a little prayer, every evening when I wait for the milk to boil for the cocoa. It’s silly, I know but I pray for Micky, Dave to lose weight, I pray your Dad will be safe when he’s driving the tractor, and I pray for you up there in London, I pray for you to find a nice husband.’

‘Do you pray for anything else?’ I asked.

‘Of course I’ll pray for Jamie’s Nan too.’ She patted my hand and then shrieked as Dad appeared at her window. Mum wound it down.

‘It’s Friday isn’t it?’ he said. ‘Who fancies fish and chips?’

‘Ooh yes Martin! I could murder a nice piece of hake,’ said Mum.


That’s
your real religion,’ I smiled. ‘Fish and chips on a Friday night.’

It turned into quite a lively evening. Dad bumped into Micky and Dave at the chip shop, so they came back to the farm with Downton, Abbey, Dexter and House. There was a colossal mound of chips, beautiful fillets of lightly battered fish, mushy peas, pickled eggs.

It seemed for Micky’s family, eating was extremely important and they were quiet whilst they consumed their heaps of food. I wasn’t all that hungry, but I did seem thirsty for wine. When we’d finished, Downton piped up.

‘Mummy, can we play Bears on the Stairs?’

‘Yes, Mummy please?’ asked Abbey her little blue eyes sparkling. Dexter and House jiggled up and down with excitement.

‘Pleasepleasepleaseplease…’

Micky looked at Mum who nodded.

‘Just take it slow, and be careful, you’ve got full tummies,’ said Micky. The kids screamed and ran off.

‘Is that a computer game? Bears on the Stairs?’ I asked.

‘No. They just slide down the stairs on their arses,’ said Dave. Dad went off to check on the animals, and Mum started to clear away the plates.
 

I told them briefly what had happened with Jamie’s Nan. I omitted the part about us kissing, which now seemed a bit weird. They were silent when I got to the end of the story.

‘Life shouldn’t be taken for granted,’ said Micky reaching out to grab some leftover chips. Mum smacked her hand.

‘Speaking of which, did you phone the woman on that Slimming World leaflet I gave you?’
 

‘Leave it out Mum,’ said Micky.

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