Happy Ever After Read online

  ‘He didn’t think I was a suitable candidate,’ Judith said stiffly. She wished the tall, thin, balding man in front of her would go away. She was mortified at having to discuss all her intimate personal history with a complete and utter stranger. She felt strangely disloyal to Lily, remembering how, two days previously, in a session with him all her pent-up resentments had come pouring out as she’d revealed how she’d ended up living with her mother and how angry she had been with Lily and her sister the day she’d had the car crash.

  She’d been off guard and unprepared when he’d come and sat down beside her bed. Although much less sedated than she had been for the previous twenty-four hours after her hysterical outburst, she was still woozy from drugs and had responded to his gentle probing with unsuspecting candour, which she now bitterly regretted.

  What had she been thinking of, losing control and ranting about wanting to commit suicide? How had she let herself become so overwhelmed by her emotions, when she usually kept such a tight rein on them? She’d lost it completely and made an exhibition of herself. That had only given them licence to drug her and make her see a shrink. Now everyone knew her personal business; it was on her chart that she was having a psychiatric evaluation. Her neurosurgeon knew it, as did her orthopaedic guy, and she was more embarrassed than she’d ever been in her entire life to think that they all now thought of her as a looper. How she wished she could leave the hospital and never have to see any of them again. Today, the psychiatrist had brought up the subject of work, but she’d clammed up and refused to talk about it, remembering how Debbie Adams had called her a bully and she’d shouted something about it to the nurse when she freaked out.

  He could frig off; she’d told him enough about herself, she was not going to embarrass herself further.

  Poor Lily had been pinched with worry these past few days, wondering was there anything she could do to help. It wasn’t fair on her elderly mother, having to trot in and out to the hospital every afternoon. Judith was going to have to get a grip on herself and get the hell out of the place.

  ‘Dr Fitzgerald.’ She stared at him through heavy-lidded eyes. He had, Judith observed, the look of a druid, one of those composed, wise elders that dispensed wisdom and radiated calm reassurance.

  ‘Yes, Judith?’ he responded, sitting on the side of her bed, head cocked sideways, looking over at her as she lay against a bank of white pillows.

  ‘I’ll take those drugs for a while, as you say to . . .’ What was it he’d said to her? She could barely remember, it reminded her of a boat. Oh yes, keel, that was it. ‘. . . get me on an even keel again, but I don’t feel the need for any more of these sessions. I had a momentary . . . er . . .’ How would she describe shrieking like a fishwife, she pondered. ‘. . . er . . . upset.’ Yes, that was a good word, she congratulated herself. ‘Everything probably got to me. Thank you for your . . . um . . .’ What would she say, she wondered, trying to catch the words that seemed to be floating away from her. ‘Er . . . kind attention, but I don’t wish to . . . take up any more of your time.’

  There! She’d managed it, even though her tongue felt thick in her mouth and her voice had seemed quite far away. She was rather proud of the note of authority she’d managed to inject into her tone, but she hoped he’d hurry on and go. She was exhausted and wanted to close her eyes and go back asleep.

  ‘It’s no trouble, Judith,’ the doctor said mildly, patting her hand as he stood up. ‘But it’s good to see that you’re feeling a little better. We’ll talk tomorrow.’

  That’s what you think, Judith sniffed as he put his pen in his top pocket and walked to the door.

  ‘And, by the way, Judith, you’re very hard on yourself; you sacrificed a lot for your mother. That was difficult to endure all these years. Carers have a very hard path in life. They need all the support they can get. You got none. You’re entitled to fall to pieces now and again. There’s no shame in being vulnerable.’ He smiled at her in a benevolent fashion before closing the door behind him.

  Judith felt a lump rise to her throat. That was the kindest thing anyone had ever said to her, apart from her father and Jillian. It was the first time someone had actually acknowledged her sacrifice. Judith felt the tears begin to fall, but she did nothing to try and stop them. She was entitled to cry, she thought sorrowfully. Life had been hard to endure and a stranger had just affirmed how very difficult it had been for her, something neither of her siblings or extended family had ever admitted. Well, she didn’t need them to state it now. Someone with more compassion than they’d ever have had applauded her endeavour. That man would never know how much his kind words had helped. ‘There’s no shame in being vulnerable,’ he’d said. ‘You’re entitled to fall to pieces now and again.’ Even in her drugged state those two sentences stood out clearly. Well, she had gone to pieces, she’d hit rock bottom. Now she could begin to pick herself up and move on as best she could.

  ‘Yes, Mr Martin, I’ll be wanting to put my daughter Judith’s name on the deeds of the house as soon as she’s out of hospital. If you can have it all prepared, I’ll make an appointment to sign any papers necessary.’ Lily gave her instructions over the phone, twirling the cord nervously between her bony, gnarled fingers.

  ‘Are you sure about this, Mrs Baxter? It’s your own idea? No . . . ah . . . pressure is being applied?’ her solicitor inquired tactfully.

  ‘None whatsoever. As I say, poor Judith is in hospital recovering from a terrible accident. I don’t know if she even remembers that I told her I was going to do this. But thank you so much, Mr Martin, for being concerned on my behalf,’ Lily assured him, very pleased that he had her best interests at heart.

  ‘We always like to be vigilant where our elderly clients are concerned,’ the solicitor explained.

  ‘And rightly so, Mr Martin. I know one or two who would be quite devious about such matters.’ Lily nodded as Tom came to mind. ‘Needless to say, this is a matter for Judith and myself and should there ever be any, em . . . dispute or queries about the matter when I die, you will be able to state unequivocally that I was of sound mind when making this decision.’

  ‘Indeed I shall, there is no doubt about that whatsoever, Mrs Baxter, no doubt at all,’ the solicitor responded, and Lily felt he was smiling.

  ‘That’s that sorted then,’ Lily declared decisively. ‘I’ll be in touch. Thank you for your kind assistance.’

  ‘You’re most welcome,’ replied the solicitor before hanging up.

  Lily stared out the window as she replaced the receiver in its cradle. It was raining today, torrential downpours that detonated out of a black leaden sky with a ferocity that made her worry if the roof would stand up to the onslaught. Rivulets of water ran down the windowpanes, distorting the view as the rain bounced off a parked car after hammering down on to the roof and bonnet.

  She’d have to wear her rain mac and bring a brolly today going to visit Judith. They’d offer poor protection from this sort of weather, she reflected, as a flash of lightning and then a clatter of thunder rent the sky. Lily almost jumped with fright. She didn’t like thunder and lightning. It scared her. Another flash and rattle had her scrabbling for her rosary beads.

  ‘Our Lady and St Michael protect me,’ she prayed fervently as another roar of thunder rattled the windowpanes.

  She closed her eyes, but then opened them quickly, deciding she wouldn’t like to be caught unawares. Her heart was thumping against her ribcage. Another flash of lightning, but slightly fainter this time as the thunder rolled to the east. She wondered would there be floods. The Tolka river at the other side of the park had burst its banks several times, but it hadn’t affected Lily’s street, for which she was truly grateful. Houses had been ruined because of the floods. She must remind Judith to be careful where she bought her property. She wouldn’t need complications like flooding. She had enough difficulties in her life. Just as she was thinking about her daughter, the phone rang. ‘Hello,’ she quavered, hoping a flash of lightning
wouldn’t explode the phone on her.

  ‘Hello, Ma, just checking if you’re OK.’ Judith’s voice came down the line.

  ‘Oh, hello, Judith. Yes, yes, don’t you worry.’ Lily pretended bravery.

  ‘It’s just I know you don’t like thunder and lightning. Ma, don’t come in this afternoon,’ Judith said firmly, even though her voice still sounded slurred from the drugs they were giving her.

  ‘I’ll be in,’ Lily declared stoutly.

  ‘Ma, please. I’ll only be worrying about you in this weather. You’ll be drenched. I’m much better today, honestly.’

  ‘Are you?’ Lily said doubtfully.

  ‘Yes I am. I had a very good chat with a doctor. Everything’s going to be all right. So please, why don’t you sit in your chair for the afternoon and rest.’

  ‘Are you certain? I’ll come in if you want.’

  ‘I’m positive. And Ma . . .’

  ‘Yes, Judith?’

  ‘Ma, thanks for everything. You’ve been very, very kind to me.’

  Lily swallowed hard and blinked rapidly as tears welled up in her eyes.

  ‘Did you hear what I said?’ Judith asked when there was no response.

  ‘I did . . . dear. And I’m only trying to repay in some small way all your kindness to me down the years,’ she managed.

  ‘I wasn’t that kind, Ma. I’m sorry I was so cranky. I didn’t treat you very nicely.’ Judith sounded close to tears herself.

  ‘I was fairly cranky myself, so we won’t be like that with each other any more, sure we won’t?’ Lily dabbed her eyes with her lace handkerchief.

  ‘No we won’t, Ma, we’ll make a fresh start.’

  ‘Yes we will. And I’ve taken the first steps this very day,’ Lily exclaimed, remembering her conversation with the solicitor. ‘I was on to Mr Martin just a little while ago, would you believe. And I’ve instructed him to put your name on the deeds of the house so you can use it as collateral to get your loan for a mortgage. And the house will still be yours when I’m gone, so you’ll be a woman of property. Does that make you feel better?’ she asked anxiously, desperate to make amends for what she’d put her daughter through.

  ‘Oh Ma, you don’t have to do that. You really don’t. I—’

  ‘Oh yes I do, Judith. It’s something I should have done long ago, so we won’t argue about it or I’ll get vexed, and you don’t want that,’ Lily declared humorously.

  ‘No, I don’t want you vexed, Ma. But you know I don’t expect you—’

  ‘I know you don’t, Judith, but it would make me pleased and contented to know you have a place of your own.’

  ‘Thanks, Ma, we’ll talk about it tomorrow. Go and have a rest for yourself, now,’ Judith urged and gave a yawn.

  ‘And you do too,’ Lily said kindly. For the second time that day she replaced the receiver in the cradle. A feeling of peace washed over her. In their own peculiar way, she and Judith loved each other, she realized. Even from her sickbed, her daughter had been thinking about her and had phoned to make sure she was OK during a thunderstorm. If she hadn’t given a hoot about her, she wouldn’t have bothered. Neither Tom nor Cecily had ever taken the trouble to get in touch with her during a thunderstorm. Cecily, in fairness, had offered to cancel her trip to France because of her sister’s setback. Lily had told her to go ahead. What was the point in her staying, it wasn’t as if Judith was in any danger. She was having trouble with her nerves, and Lily, not Cecily, was the expert in that department, she’d told her younger daughter.

  Sometimes good things came from bad. She and Judith were starting afresh, and all because her daughter had almost been killed in an accident. Now, though, Lily was being given a chance to repay Judith in some small way for all the years her daughter had been at her beck and call, especially when there had been no need for it, she thought guiltily. When the chips were down and she’d had no choice, she’d had to fend for herself. She’d managed very well. If Judith had not had her accident, Lily would never have known the freedom of independence. God certainly worked in strange ways, she mused, as another roll of thunder, much further away this time, growled over the city.

  Lily gave a gusty sigh. There was one other reason she was in Judith’s debt. And it had troubled her for a long, long time. Lily bowed her head, trying not to cry as she remembered how she had left Judith alone at Ted’s deathbed. She had abandoned her dearly loved husband when he needed her most because she had been terrified. Terrified of watching him die, terrified by the drunks and druggies falling around the A&E where her husband lay on a trolley for his last hours. Even the immense kindness of the nurses when they’d wheeled Ted into a smaller section off the main area hadn’t calmed her. She’d wanted to get out of there as quickly as she could, and so had Tom. Thinking back, she knew Judith must have been just as scared and lonely and heartbroken as she was. Father and daughter had been so close. But Lily had thought only of herself. Tears slid down her cheeks. She was a selfish woman and a failure as a wife and mother, she scourged herself, as all the old memories came flooding back: Judith, white as a ghost, Tom fidgeting, unable to look at his father, and Ted lying shrivelled and waxen with tubes everywhere and machines beeping, frightening the life out of them all.

  When Judith had suggested that Tom take her home she had needed no second urging, even though she knew she would never see Ted alive again. Ted would never have left her, never have deserted her the way she had deserted him. She’d squeezed his hand but said nothing, her throat was so tight with terror and emotion. She hadn’t even told him she loved him or thanked him for being a wonderful husband. She’d hurried out of the A&E without a backward glance, desperate to get to the sanctuary of her bed, where she could burrow under the bedclothes and set the world aside, leaving Judith alone with her dying father.

  Lily had been so angry with Ted for such a long time after he died. How could he have left her to face the world she was so afraid of without him at her side? Looking back, she wondered how Judith had been so patient with her. Never by so much as a word had she ever made Lily feel guilty for abandoning her. Until now, Lily had never even acknowledged that. Shame flooded her. She had been so hard on her elder daughter, so demanding. It was more than time to repay her. Ted would want her to make sure Judith was well looked after.

  ‘I’m sorry, Ted, so very sorry, I love you very much, and I let you down,’ she wept, knuckles rubbing her eyes as great waves of sadness and loss and regret surged through her. Eventually, her crying stopped and the tumult ceased, the emotions ebbing away leaving her drained but strangely purged. It was as though the release of the guilt that had been deeply buried for all these years had changed something in her. She wiped her eyes with her handkerchief and went upstairs and sat on the side of her bed with her framed photo of her husband clutched against her chest, and sat in silent prayer. After a while, comforted, she went back downstairs and took out her dusters and polish and worked her way through the rooms, glad to be occupied. She worked diligently, dusting her precious ornaments in her sitting room, all of which held special, happy memories of her marriage to Ted. Judith called them clutter, but she didn’t really understand, Lily mused, as she polished a set of brass candlesticks that Ted had bought her for their first Christmas together.

  The room grew darker and the rain began again, great spills of water assaulting the windows. Lily shivered. It had grown cold. The weather was very intemperate. One day it was warm and close, the next cold and raining, and not just ordinary rain, deluges that drenched you after only a few seconds. She was very relieved that Judith had insisted that she not visit today. She was going to light her fire and make herself a cup of tea and hot buttery toast and then she was going to snooze in her chair beside the fire for a while before watching Countdown and Paul O’Grady, her favourite afternoon shows. It seemed like a lifetime ago since she’d seen them. Lily loved Paul O’Grady; even in her darkest moments when she was anxious and fluttery and tense, he’d make her laugh. He had a kind face. A
nd he loved that little dog, Buster. He was a real character that dog, turning his behind to the camera when he wasn’t in the humour to entertain the audience. It always made Lily laugh. It was the programme she most looked forward to, and today she could do with some cheering up.

  The fire was blazing up the chimney, casting flickering shadows on the walls, and she was nice and full after a cup of hot sweet tea and two slices of toast with melting butter. She turned her chair to the fireside and settled herself comfortably. She was just beginning to drop off when a car pulled up outside and the banging of the car door startled her awake. She twisted around and peered out behind her lace curtains, and her heart sank as she recognized Tom’s BMW.

  What was he doing here, she thought in dismay. Just when she had a free afternoon to enjoy. He hardly knew about her phone call this morning, she worried. Surely Mr Martin wouldn’t have betrayed her confidence and contacted him.

  Don’t be silly, she scolded herself as the doorbell rang. She flattened herself against the wall beside the window. She wasn’t going to answer it. He could go and hump. He’d be wanting tea and cake, and she’d have to listen to him waffling on. The doorbell rang again, longer this time, and her lips tightened in anger as the phone started to ring, its tone louder and shriller than the bell. She peeped out again and saw him with his back to her, mobile up to his ear. Ha! He was ringing her. She wasn’t going to answer.

  She saw him thrust his phone impatiently back into his pocket, and then he hurried back to the car.

  Well done, Lily. She gave herself a mental pat on the back. But why wasn’t he starting up the engine? He was hardly going to sit there and wait for her? She wouldn’t be able to relax if that was the case. ‘Oh!’ she exclaimed in dismay. Tom was out of the car again and coming back to the door.