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Authors: Cathy Glass

Tags: #Biography & Autobiography, #General

The Night the Angels Came (12 page)

BOOK: The Night the Angels Came
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I followed Nora a little way down the hall and to the cupboard under the stairs. Opening the door, Nora switched on the light and as the cupboard illuminated I felt a pang of nostalgia at seeing Patrick’s possessions. Patrick clearly used his understairs cupboard much as I did – for storing items that were used occasionally or had sentimental value and he didn’t want to throw away. Among other things there was a 1950s standard lamp, a pretty but obsolete fireguard, a vacuum cleaner, an ironing board, a large china vase, an oil painting, various cardboard boxes, a suitcase and the holdall Michael had had his belongings in when he’d stayed with me before.

‘I think we’ll use this again.’ Nora said, reaching in and taking out the holdall. ‘If I send Michael with the big suitcase he’ll think he’s not coming home again.’

She set the holdall on the floor, turned and looked at me, and in that look I saw all her worries and fears about Patrick. ‘Pat will be coming home again, won’t he, Cathy?’ she asked, her brow furrowing.

‘Of course he will,’ I said without a second thought. ‘And soon. They’ll give him a blood transfusion like they did last time and he’ll be fine.’

‘Yes, I’m sure you’re right,’ Nora said, recovering. ‘Jack and I will visit him later. Will you be taking Michael to visit this evening?’

I paused and thought. ‘I don’t think so, not tonight. I think I’ll wait until tomorrow when Patrick is feeling better. What do you think?’

‘Yes. Pat worries about the effect his illness is having on Michael. He wouldn’t want him seeing him poorly.’

‘No, so I’ll wait until tomorrow when he’s awake and talking. He might even be coming out of hospital then.’

Nora nodded. ‘Would you like me to phone you after we’ve seen him this evening? Then you can reassure Michael.’

‘Yes please. I’ll leave you my number before I go and it might be a good idea if I had your phone number too.’

‘Yes, of course.’

I picked up the holdall and followed Nora upstairs, past Patrick’s bedroom, where the door was now closed, and into Michael’s room. Michael was busy taking toys and games from the cupboard and placing them in a pile in the centre of the bed, ready to pack. ‘Adrian will like playing with this,’ he said, holding up a sophisticated Transformer action figure with vivid green flashing eyes. ‘And can I take my Scalextric?’ he asked me. I was pleased that the prospect of playing with Adrian was helping keep his mind off his father’s illness.

‘It’s fine with me,’ I said. ‘What do you think, Nora? Would Patrick be happy with the Scalextric leaving the house?’

‘Yes, I’m sure,’ she said. ‘Michael’s careful with his toys. ‘I’ll tell Patrick tonight you’ve taken it with you. But Michael,’ Nora said, looking at the growing pile of toys on the bed, ‘I think we need to be packing some of your clothes as well as your toys.’

‘Oh yes,’ Michael said, grinning.

‘I tell you what,’ Nora said to Michael. ‘you get out the Scalextric box and pack that while Cathy and I sort out your clothes.’

I followed Nora to the built-in wardrobe with the holdall as Michael delved under the bed and retrieved the original Scalextric box. While he sat on the floor dismantling his racing car set and carefully laying it in the box, Nora took Michael’s clothes from the wardrobe and handed them to me, and I folded and packed them into the holdall. Michael must have been watching us and noting how much we were packing, for when we’d put in two changes of school uniform, a couple of sets of casual clothes, and some pants and socks, he said: ‘That’s enough. I’ll be back soon.’

Nora and I agreed. She put his school shoes into a plastic carrier bag to stop them from dirtying his clothes and I tucked the bag into the holdall. Nora then went to the bathroom to fetch Michael’s flannel and toothbrush while I filled the rest of the holdall with the toys from the bed. I closed the zip. The bag was bulging and when Nora returned with Michael’s wash bag I tucked it into a side compartment.

‘School bag?’ I asked Michael.

‘Oh yes,’ he said. Delving under the bed again, he pulled out his school bag. I thought that Michael’s storage system appeared to be similar to Adrian’s, with most things being pushed out of sight under the bed.

With Michael carrying the boxed Scalextric, Nora the school bag and me the holdall, we went downstairs and stacked everything in the hall.

‘Which coat are you taking?’ Nora asked Michael. There were a number of coats and jackets hanging on the wooden coat rail in the hall.

Michael unhooked his school blazer and also a casual jacket.

‘I can’t think of anything else,’ Nora said, glancing round. ‘I’ll pop back later and check everything is switched off.’

Outside we packed the bags into my car and then returned briefly to Nora and Jack’s house to swap telephone numbers and say goodbye. Nora and Jack gave Michael a big hug and then did the same to me, which was sweet.

‘Don’t worry,’ Jack called to Michael as we got into the car. ‘Dad will be out soon, and we’ll all be round your place partying.’

 

O
n the way home from Patrick’s I explained to Michael that Adrian and Paula were out with their father and would be home at about five o’clock. It was now just after three o’clock, and Michael said he would use the time before they returned to set up his Scalextric and he asked which room he should put it in.

‘How about your bedroom?’ I suggested. ‘That’s where you have it at home and it will be safe there. Then Adrian and Paula can come into your room to play with it.’ Michael agreed. The Scalextric could have been set up downstairs but I thought it would make Michael feel more at home if he had it with him in his room; also, it would be less likely to be trodden on or damaged than downstairs in the living room.

Michael was quiet in the car for the rest of the journey and I regularly glanced at him in the interior mirror. He was gazing through his side window, deep in thought.

‘Nora will phone us this evening after she’s seen your dad,’ I reassured him.

‘Dad will want to phone and speak to me as soon as he can,’ Michael said. ‘He knows I worry when he falls over and doesn’t wake up.’

‘Does it happen often?’ I asked, concerned, glancing at him in the interior mirror.

Michael nodded. ‘Last week he fell over twice at home, but he woke up after a minute so I didn’t have to call an ambulance or get Nora or Jack.’

Again I was reminded of the huge responsibility Michael and other child carers carry for their disabled or sick parent, but I wondered why Patrick hadn’t mentioned he’d collapsed to me the week before, or gone to the hospital for tests. Perhaps he had seen a doctor but hadn’t wanted to worry me. Obviously Michael didn’t have the luxury of not knowing as he was living with and looking after his father. ‘The doctors will have your dad up and about very soon,’ I said.

Michael nodded and continued to gaze through the side window, deep in thought.

When we arrived home Michael helped me to unload the car and we carried his bags up to his room. He seemed more relaxed and ‘at home’ compared with the first time he’d stayed. I guessed that was a result of all the time Patrick and I had spent together with the children: Michael was familiar with the house and knew me better. He was keen to set up his Scalextric straight away, so I suggested he did that while I made us something to eat, as neither of us had eaten since breakfast. He nodded, and leaving him unpacking his Scalextric I went downstairs and made a quick pasta bake for the two of us. Adrian and Paula usually ate with their father and just wanted a snack in the evening when they returned.

Michael and I ate together, and then when we’d finished he returned upstairs to put the finishing touches to his race track while I cleared away the dishes. I then went upstairs with the intention of seeing if I could persuade Michael to unpack some of his clothes. The last time he’d stayed he’d been reluctant to unpack his clothes, viewing it, I thought, as too permanent when he was hoping to go home as soon as possible. Now, however, as I entered his bedroom not only was the Scalextric nearly complete but his holdall was lying empty on the bed.

‘Have you unpacked?’ I asked, surprised.

Michael nodded. Leaving the Scalextric he opened the wardrobe door to show me.

‘Well done,’ I said. ‘Excellent. I’ll put your bag out of the way up here.’ I took the holdall from the bed and pushed it on top of the wardrobe, pleased that Michael had felt comfortable enough staying with us to unpack. ‘Adrian and Paula should be home in half an hour,’ I said. It was now 4.30.

Michael had returned to the Scalextric and was sitting cross-legged on the floor, his head lowered as if concentrating on the car he held, but he didn’t say anything.

‘I’ll be downstairs if you need anything,’ I added.

He nodded, but again didn’t reply.

I took the couple of steps to where he sat and squatted down beside him. ‘Michael?’ I said quietly, trying to see his face. ‘Are you all right, love?’

He looked up at me, his expression serious. ‘Do you think it’s OK if I play with my Scalextric while Dad’s in hospital?’ he asked anxiously.

‘Yes, of course,’ I said, not fully appreciating what he was trying to say. ‘You look after your toys and it’ll be safe up here. I know your dad won’t mind.’

‘Dad won’t mind,’ he said. ‘Dad wants me to play and be happy, but what about God? Will he mind?’

I was taken aback. ‘Of course not. God would want you to be happy too, not feel guilty about playing.’ I didn’t know where Michael had got his feelings of religious guilt from, it certainly wasn’t from Patrick, and I didn’t think it was healthy. I remembered Michael’s bedtime prayer when he’d stayed with us before: ‘Lord … I hope you don’t mind me being happy. I still love my daddy but it’s nice to play sometimes.’ Then there’d been his worry earlier at the hospital that his lack of devotion had caused his father to collapse on the way home from church; and now this comment. Although I didn’t know much about the Catholic religion, I was sure its faith wasn’t based on, or fuelled by, guilt.

‘I’ll say an extra prayer tonight,’ Michael said, obviously still thinking about it.

‘If you wish, and you can blame it on me,’ I said lightly. ‘Explain it was my decision to bring your Scalextric here and let you play with it, not yours. I take full responsibility,’ which seemed to help, as Michael grinned at me conspiratorially.

‘All right,’ he said, and more happily set the car on the track. Leaving Michael putting the finishing touches to the layout of the track, I went downstairs. I wondered if it was Michael’s school which had taught the children to fear God, or perhaps it was something he’d heard and had misinterpreted in the Catholic teachings at church. But either way I didn’t want him saddled with the added burden of guilt for being happy, and if my taking responsibility for his playing helped then I was more than willing to do so. I was sure the God who watched over me, whoever he was, would continue to forgive my transgressions, just as I hoped he had done in the past.

At five o’clock I was looking out from behind the net curtains in the front room, watching out for Adrian and Paula. Although I had faith in John’s ability to look after the children and keep them safe, I was always relieved when they were home again safely. Michael now had his Scalextric fully operational and I could hear the electric cars racing around the track upstairs. I’d offered to play with him but he’d said he’d wait for Adrian, although first I would have to explain to Adrian and Paula why Michael was here, preferably after John had said goodbye and I’d closed the front door.

A few minutes later John’s car drew up and parked outside the house. I still found it strange seeing him park and get out, knowing that he wouldn’t be coming in or staying. I watched him unseen from behind the net curtains and I wondered if he too felt uncomfortable returning to the house that had previously been his home. As the children began down the garden path I left the front room and went into the hall, ready to answer the door as soon as the bell rang.

‘Hi!’ I said, smiling at all three of them. ‘Have you had a good time?’

Paula as usual fell straight into my arms and gave me a big hug, while Adrian, more reserved in showing his emotions, nodded and grinned at me.

‘We’ve had a lovely time, haven’t we?’ John said to the children. They nodded.

‘Good,’ I said, smiling at John. ‘Bye, then. I’ll phone next weekend,’ John said to the children, who were now in the hall.

‘Say goodbye,’ I reminded them. This was always the most difficult part, and part of me felt sorry for John. I couldn’t have said goodbye to my children knowing I wouldn’t be seeing them again for another month, but that was his decision.

Adrian and Paula returned to the doorstep and hugged their father at the same time as Michael appeared on the landing and then began down the stairs. The staircase leads off the hall, so halfway down Michael was clearly visible from the front door.

‘Michael’s here,’ I said to Adrian and Paula as they finished saying goodbye to their father. They were as pleased to see Michael as he was to see them.

‘Is Patrick here?’ John asked, quick as a flash. ‘No,’ I said. ‘He doesn’t come in any more.’ Which seemed to defuse him.

‘Bye, kids,’ he called after Adrian and Paula as they scampered upstairs with Michael.

‘Bye, Dad,’ they called down.

‘Goodbye.’ I smiled politely.

John took a couple of steps down the path and then paused and turned. ‘Have you seen your solicitor yet?’ he asked.

‘I have an appointment next week.’

He nodded stiffly and then continued down the path as I closed the front door and breathed a sigh of relief. I hoped that once he had the divorce he wanted and was free to remarry our conversations would become easier.

I had wanted to explain to Adrian and Paula that Michael was here before they saw him but I hadn’t had the chance, so I now went upstairs and into Michael’s bedroom. The children were grouped around the Scalextric, with the boys working a hand-held control each and Paula watching and waiting for her turn.

‘Patrick’s had to go into hospital, so Michael is staying with us for a few days,’ I said redundantly, as it must have been obvious to Adrian and Paula why Michael was here.

Adrian nodded, intent on the game, while Paula said, ‘Don’t worry, Mum, Michael’s fine with us.’

‘I’m fine,’ Michael confirmed without taking his eyes from the cars.

I smiled and came away, pleased that as a result of all the time Patrick and I had spent together with the children they were relaxed in each other’s company and Michael felt ‘at home’. However, and I hadn’t given it much thought, the downside of this comfort and familiarity the children felt was that as well as bonding with Michael, Adrian and Paula had grown attached to Patrick, and would fret and worry that he was ill – although this didn’t come out until later, when they were tired and getting ready for bed.

I made a light supper at six o’clock and then at seven I began the bath and bedtime routine, ready for school and nursery the following day. As usual, I took Paula, the youngest, up first and helped her into the bath, and then washed her back while she did the rest. I thought she was quieter than usual; normally she loves her bath and there are usually lots of squeals of delight as she plays in the foaming bubble bath.

‘Are you all right?’ I asked her after a while.

‘Yes.’ But a moment later Paula suddenly asked, ‘Does Patrick sleep in a bed in hospital?’ Having never been in a hospital, she wouldn’t know.

‘Yes,’ I said. ‘There are beds in what are called wards. Each patient – that’s the name for someone who stays in hospital – has their own bed, just like at home.’

‘Will someone look after Patrick at night, while he is in bed?’ she asked.

‘Yes, the nurses. There are nurses on the wards to look after the patients during the day and the night. You know what a nurse is, don’t you?’

She nodded. ‘Is there a toilet in the ward?’

‘Yes, and a bathroom. You’re not worrying about Patrick, are you?’

‘No.’ But a few seconds later she asked,’

‘Will Patrick have dinner and breakfast there?’

‘Yes, love. Please don’t worry. He’ll have plenty to eat. Meals are brought to the ward on a special trolley that keeps the food warm.’

She thought about this, and then said, ‘I wish Patrick wasn’t in hospital. I wish he was at his house or here with us.’

‘I know, love, but sometimes people have to stay in hospital if they are poorly. He’s being well looked after by the nurses, so please stop worrying.’

She finished washing and I helped her out of the bath and wrapped a towel around her. As I helped her dry herself, she said more lightly, ‘When will we see Patrick again?’

‘In a few days. When he comes out of hospital.’

‘Good. I like Patrick. I mean I love Daddy but I like Patrick. That’s OK, isn’t it?’

‘Of course, love,’ I said, smiling. ‘That’s just fine.’

Adrian and Michael went up to get ready for bed together and then took turns in the shower. Once they were in their pyjamas and in their respective bedrooms I went in to say good-night, Michael first. He seemed very relaxed and, with his clothes unpacked and in the wardrobe, and the Scalextric on the floor at the foot of his bed, quite at home. He was placing the racing cars in their pit stops for the night and I noticed he’d even taken the plug from the wall socket. Before climbing into bed he knelt and clasped his hands together, ready to say his prayers. I respectfully looked away as I usually did but Michael’s prayer was quick and light tonight: ‘God bless Mummy, Daddy, Nora, Jack, Colleen, Eamon, my friend David at school, Cathy, Adrian, Paula and their daddy. Amen.’ Opening his eyes, he sprang into bed.

‘That was nice,’ I said, pleased his prayers hadn’t been laden with guilt and asking for forgiveness for enjoying himself. ‘Night,’ I said, kissing his forehead and straightening the duvet.

‘Night, Cathy,’ he said, smiling. ‘Can you open my curtains a bit like you did last time, so I can see the stars?’

‘Yes, of course.’ I went to the curtains and parted them slightly in the middle, although the stars weren’t visible yet as the sky hadn’t fully darkened. ‘Is that all right?’ I asked.

He smiled and nodded. ‘Dad will be looking at the sky too,’ Michael said, clearly finding comfort in this. I said goodnight again and left him lying in bed, gazing towards the window with a contented smile on his face.

However, it was a different matter in Adrian’s room. He was changed and about to get into bed, but I knew immediately from his expression there was something worrying him. I also knew that unlike Paula, who voiced her concerns, I would need to coax whatever was worrying Adrian out of him.

‘You look a bit sad,’ I said as he got into bed and I perched on the edge. ‘Is there something bothering you?’

He gave a small dismissive shrug, which I knew translated as yes.

‘Can you tell me what it is?’ I asked. Adrian shrugged. ‘You know the saying,’ I persisted: ‘a problem shared is a problem halved. Telling me will help.’

BOOK: The Night the Angels Came
11.15Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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