This Is How It Ends (19 page)

H
E’S BEEN SUSPENDED,”
said Della. “Pending a hearing at the Medical Council.”

“No.” That was all Addie said. “Please no.”

“Oh yes,” said Della. “Apparently it’s the talk of the hospital. The place is in uproar, if you listen to Simon Sheridan.”

“Ah no, Della, don’t tell me this.”

Addie’s eyes were welling up with tears. She had one hand cupped over her mouth.

But Della just kept on talking. The things she was saying were terrible things, Addie couldn’t believe she was hearing them.

“There was a row in the operating theater. Hugh wanted one of the junior doctors to do the procedure. But the guy didn’t speak English properly. He says he couldn’t understand what Hugh was saying to him.”

“Oh Jesus,” said Addie.

She could hear Hugh’s voice in her head. Sink or swim, he was saying. That’s how it was in our day. How are they going to learn if they don’t get their hands dirty? They expect to be spoon-fed, these young fellas. Well, I’m not running a bloody crèche.

“He could be sacked, you know. He could even be struck off.”

Addie just nodded. She was sitting up very straight, her head held high, but there were tears streaming down her face. She felt sick to her stomach. She felt like she was standing on a rug that had just been pulled out from under her. She was falling backwards through the air and what she was thinking was, I was happy! For a minute there, I was beginning to think I could be happy.

“Oh, Della,” she said. “I can’t believe this is happening to us.”

Della came over and she put her arms around her. Pulling her sister’s tawny head down into the crook of her neck, she brushed the top of Addie’s hair with her lips.

“I know, love,” she said, “I know.”

But even as she was saying it she felt like a fraud. Her eyes were dry, her voice steady. She felt numb to it all.

She was stroking Addie’s hair. Standing above her, she could see that Addie’s roots were showing. A full centimeter of muddy brown growth before the honey color of the dye set in. A single wiry white stalk sticking straight up out of her scalp, Della longed to pluck it out.

Addie was sobbing now, her shoulders rocking.

“I know,” said Della, resting the side of her face on Addie’s head. “I know.”

She could feel her sister’s grief like a wave of heat coming off her. Della envied her, that she was capable of feeling such pure sorrow.

Della felt nothing, just a dull ache in her heart.

SHE WAS JUST WONDERING
how she would pull away when Tess came thundering into the room. It was inevitable that this would happen. Every conversation they’ve had for the last ten years has been interrupted by one or other of the kids.

“Mum?”

Tess was standing there staring at them. She’d forgotten whatever it was she had come down for.

Sometimes Della thinks there’s an invisible thread connecting her to Tess. The most intuitive of all her children, when Della first opens her eyes in the morning the child is always there, standing right beside the bed waiting for her to wake up. It can be quite eerie.

“What’s wrong with Addie?”

It was Della she asked, even though Addie was right there. That was Della’s job, to interpret the world for them. To act as their intermediary.

“Oh, nothing’s wrong with her, sweetheart, she’s just premenstrual.”

A blank expression.

“Believe me, darling, you don’t want to know.”

Addie gave a spluttery little laugh. She had picked up her tea, and she was gulping at it. Her face was all blotchy.

Tess was still standing there studying her, scrutinizing Addie’s face for a clue.

Addie smiled weakly at her. Tess didn’t smile back.

“I’m hungry,” she said. She had just remembered why she’d come down.

Della went over to the counter and started slapping butter onto cream crackers. She made a sandwich out of them, then another one.

“Here, one for each hand.”

The child took them and whirled towards the door.

“Wait, take the packet with you. Otherwise they’ll all be down.”

Tess took the packet of cream crackers in her teeth and went crashing out the door. A thump as she tripped and fell on the stairs, the two sisters cocked their heads and waited for a wail that didn’t come. Instead they heard her pick herself up and carry on.

“She’s getting so big,” said Addie.

“More and more eccentric every day. She wants a cat now.”

The way Della said it, she might as well have been talking about a rat.

“Oh no,” said Addie. Her dismay was genuine. “Not a cat.”

Della sighed.

“I know. She’s been bringing home books from the school library. Facts about cats. All you need to know about looking after a cat.”

“Oh Jesus, Dell. Could you not get a dog instead? A rabbit?”

Della was shaking her head helplessly.

Addie’s mouth was turned upside down in her distaste. “Even a hamster would be preferable.”

“No. It seems it has to be a cat. It’s OK. I’m resigned to the inevitable. My life is not my own, I know that. It can’t be helped.”

“What about the fish? Won’t the cat eat the fish?”

“There’s always that hope.”

Addie glanced over at the fish tank. The water was a bit murky but she could see the fish lolling around in there. He was getting bigger all the time. It was a bit weird the way he just kept on growing.

“Do you think it makes me a bad person?” said Della in a thin voice. “That I hate the fish so much?” They were both looking over at the tank now. “I really hate that fish.”

It was hard to feel sorry for him. Looking at him now, even Addie couldn’t find it in her heart to feel sorry for him. She shrugged her shoulders. “When does the cat arrive?”

“Christmas?”

“I thought you were going skiing for Christmas.”

“We are. Maybe the cat could be here when we get back?”

Addie was dubious. “It’s not that far away, you know. Christmas.”

“Oh, don’t say that. It’s still only November.” Della dreaded Christmas. All that effort. All those presents to think of, the false cheer. It made her tired just thinking about it. “Have you thought about what to get Bruno?”

“For Christmas?”

“He is going to be here for Christmas, isn’t he?”

“Oh, I think so. There’s no talk of him going home.”

“Well then. You’ll have to get him a present.”

It wasn’t that Addie hadn’t thought about it, because she had. She’d already started worrying about it.

“I hardly know him,” she said. “I only realized how little I know him when I started thinking about what to give him for Christmas.”

“Give him a voucher,” said Della. “You can’t go wrong with a voucher.” And she gave Addie a big wink. She took a wicked satisfaction in making Addie blush.

Della gives Simon a voucher for a blow job every Christmas. Sure what else can you give someone who earns half a million a year?

“WHAT DOES SIMON THINK?”

Funny how the tempo of a conversation can change. They were all businesslike now. They were talking about it calmly. The emotion was over and done with for the moment. Much to Della’s relief.

“Simon thinks he should take early retirement. He only has a few months before he’ll have to go anyway. Simon thinks he’s mad to stick it out, they obviously have it in for him.”

Della was over at the kitchen counter again, switching the kettle on.

“And what do you think?”

Addie was wincing as she waited for her sister to answer, her heart in her boots.

Della had turned round again, leaning back against the counter while she waited for the kettle to boil. She was readjusting the hair grip holding her fringe back. Addie noticed it was a Hello Kitty clip.

“Oh, I think fuck them,” said Della casually. “That’s what I think. Fuck the bastards.”

Addie’s heart surged with love for her.

“I don’t see why he should admit defeat. He’s a cantankerous old bugger and he’s rude to people and he’s got a nasty temper, but that doesn’t mean he deserves to be struck off. If he takes early retirement it will look like he’s admitting he was wrong. And I don’t think he should. I think he should fight the fuckers all the way.”

She had picked up a plastic tumbler and was watering the plants on the windowsill. She seemed to have forgotten that she was waiting for the kettle. She started cleaning out the children’s lunchboxes, leaving them upside down on the rack beside the sink to dry. It seemed to Addie that Della was always doing five things at a time these days.

“Here,” she said, setting some leftover grapes on the table in front of Addie. “Fulfill a public service and eat these for me. They never eat the fruit I give them.”

Without even thinking about it, Addie started picking at the grapes one by one and popping them into her mouth. They were a bit bitter but she kept on eating them anyway.

“I thought you said he was in the wrong.”

“Maybe,” said Della. “But that doesn’t mean he should admit it. Anyway, he’s too old to admit he’s wrong. If he started, where would he stop?”

“Bruno says Irish people are always apologizing. He finds it quite noticeable.”

“Well, Bruno’s right, we spend our whole lives saying sorry. If we bump into someone in the street, we say sorry. If we interrupt someone, we say sorry. We’re falling over ourselves to apologize. I’ve had enough of it. Hugh’s right. Why should he apologize? He didn’t
set out
to do anything wrong. It’s not like he’s an ax murderer or something. Like I said, he’s just a cranky old bollocks.”

Della does this sometimes. A complete turnaround. It’s what makes her so exciting to be with. You never know what she’s going to say next.

Tentatively, Addie gave her a little poke.

“You’ve had a bit of a change of heart.”

Della shrugged. “Maybe I’m just bored giving out about him. I think I’m going to take his side from now on.”

There was a fierce expression on her face. She had her hands pressed flat on the table, bearing down on them as she leaned over towards Addie.

“We were brought up to be afraid of everything, Ad. We were brought up bowing and scraping and apologizing to the world for everything under the sun. Well, I’ve had enough of it.”

She was on a roll now. There was no stopping her.

“I don’t want my kids to live their lives like that, Addie. I want them to go out there in the world and believe in themselves. I want them to believe they can do anything. Fearlessness, that’s what I’m trying to breed in them. If I can do that, there’ll be no stopping them.”

“Della.”

“I know I’m ranting. Just indulge me.”

“It’s not that, Dell. Look.”

Della turned her head round, just in time to see a small girl dangling in the air outside the kitchen window.

She leapt out of her chair.

“Jesus Christ!”

She dashed for the back door, Addie right behind her.

By the time they got outside the child had landed. She was standing with her feet firmly planted on the patio and was busy untangling herself from a twisted bedsheet.

An unfamiliar child. Addie had never seen her before.

The sheet she’d descended on was hanging down the side of the house. Addie and Della craned their necks to follow it back up the wall. One, two, three sheets tied together, covering the three stories of the house. And at the top, where the sheet disappeared in through a window, a little face was peering anxiously down at them.

“
Elsa!
”

Della’s voice was a bark. She had her hands out to her sides, rigid with rage.

“GET DOWN HERE NOW!”

The face disappeared from the window.

A minute later they all appeared down in the kitchen. Their breathing heavy and uneven, their faces flushed with fear. There were six of them, including the two visiting children.

They tried to put up some resistance. “We were just practicing a fire drill,” ventured Tess. “In case the house ever goes on fire.”

Della yelped. She held up her hand.

They stood there in a ragged little line and they took the scolding. Six serious sets of eyes fixed on Della.

Chastened, they scurried back upstairs to haul in the sheets.

Della waited until she was sure they were gone. Then she turned to Addie.

“Oh Jesus,” she said, “what have I gone and created?”

WHEN ADDIE LEFT,
Della followed her out to the car. She didn’t bother putting her shoes on, she just came out in her stocking feet.

Addie was turning the key in the ignition when she saw her sister bending down to peer in through the passenger window at her. Della rapped on the glass. Addie leaned over and wound down the window.

“I meant what I said, Ad.”

Della was leaning right into the car, her two hands gripping the open window frame.

“We have to stop being so afraid, Addie. We have to stop all that now. What happens with Hugh will happen, it’s not the end of the world. There’s none of us is perfect.”

Addie had tears in her eyes as she nodded.

“You’re right,” she said. “I know you’re right.”

Della drew her head back out of the window. She straightened up again. Slapping the roof of the car with the palm of her hand, she turned and headed back up the path into the house.

Addie drove off slowly, tears clouding her vision. She blinked a few times to clear them but she was still having trouble seeing. She stopped the car at the corner for a moment to compose herself, then she turned out onto the main road. The steering wheel felt light in her hands, as if she were floating above the ground. She knew she should pull over but she didn’t. She kept the car going towards home.

Everything looked different to her all of a sudden. The whole scene outside her window, she was looking at it with new eyes. It was the same but different in some way she couldn’t identify. As if the world was a painting and somebody had just picked it up and turned it upside down. She couldn’t tell yet if she liked it better this way or if she wanted it to go back to the way it was before.