Just One More Day

Chapter Nine

Eddress

‘I’m afraid the news isn’t good, Mrs Lewis.’

His voice is like the toll of doom and my head’s the belfry. I can feel everything inside of me going tight and hot, and like a blooming baby I want to start bawling.

I’ve been dreading this day ever since me last check-up. Three weeks of bloody hell it’s been, trying to keep normal for the kids, making sure Eddie’s not worrying too much. He pretends not to, but I know he is. I kept telling meself it would be all right, but it’s not, is it? That’s what Michaels is saying, it’s not all right. The news isn’t good, which means . . . I don’t want him to tell me what it means, I just want it all to stop now before it gets any worse.

Michaels is looking at me. I don’t know if he’s waiting for me to say something, but if he is, I can’t. I look at Eddie to see if he’s got something to say, but it doesn’t seem like he has either.

‘It appears that the cancer has spread,’ Michaels says, ‘but there’s a chance, if we start treatment right away, that we should be able to arrest it, and maybe even reverse it.’

‘You mean you’ve got to operate again?’ I say.

‘Not at this stage. Hopefully, if you respond to treatment, not at all.’

‘So more radium is what you’re saying?’

‘Yes. And a course of medication that is likely to have some side effects.’

I look away, around his office, trying to take it all in.

‘What kind of side effects?’ Eddie asks.

‘Lethargy, nausea, weight gain . . . Of course your wife might not experience them all, it would be unusual if she did . . .’

‘I thought you said, when we came in before, that the last operation was a success,’ I remind him.

‘It was, for that area of your body. Unfortunately, we weren’t in time to stop it developing elsewhere.’

‘So where else is it?’

His eyes go down to the page in front of him, and I go cold. He can’t be looking it up, because he’s bound to know already, and if he can’t look me in the eye . . . Oh please God please help me.

‘It’s recurring in the liver,’ he says.

The liver. I don’t know much about the human body, but I know enough to understand that, unlike a right bosom, a liver is something you can’t function without. I’m starting to feel a bit light-headed now, and I’m afraid I might be sick. Shall I ask to go to the lav? There’s a bloody great lump in my throat so I’m not sure I can speak.

Eddie’s saying something to the doctor. I watch his lips moving and then the doctor’s, but I’m not taking it in. It’s like I’m going numb all over, but then I turn restless and want to leave. They’re still talking though, so I stare out the window and ask God why He’s doing this. Course, He doesn’t answer, He never does, does He?

It’s not up to Him though is it, because He don’t exist, and if you ask me, this proves it. So there’s no point getting into an argy-bargy with someone who’s not there, or thinking He’s got some kind of power to make this all go away, when He’s just something that’s been made up by rich people, in the church, to scare us poor people into giving them money to save our souls. So they get richer and we get poorer which means they’re the ones with all the power, not God. I wish Eddie could see that, but he can’t. He might change his mind now though, we’ll see. What shall I make for his tea tonight? I don’t know. Chops? A nice piece of cod?

‘Mrs Lewis?’

It’s the doctor. He’s looking at me as though he’s waiting for an answer, but I don’t know what he asked me.

‘Have you got any questions?’ Eddie prompts me.

I shake my head. No, no questions. I feel sorry for the doctor. I don’t expect it’s easy giving people news like this, but once we’re gone he’ll move on to the next, and we’ll be forgotten until it’s time for me to come in again. So really it’s all right for him, isn’t it, because it’s not him, or his wife, who’s sitting this side of the desk. It’s me, Eddie’s wife, the mother of our kids, that’s who’s sitting on the wrong side of the desk. I wonder how I got here, because I’ve never been ill in me life before, so I don’t understand why this is happening now. If anyone mentions the cigarettes I’ll thump them, because thousands, millions of people smoke twice as much as I do every day, and they’re all right, aren’t they? Eighty or ninety years old some of them, and still going strong. So I don’t want to hear any more baloney about the fags, because that’s all it is, baloney, put about by doctors who can’t come up with the real reason for this happening, so they have to blame something.

Michaels walks round his desk and opens the door for us to leave. He shakes my hand first, then Eddie’s and tells us not to worry, he’s sure we’ve caught it in plenty of time. I’m sure we have too, it’s just been a bit of a shock, that’s all, but I’m pulling meself together now. I’ll get on this treatment he mentioned and before we know it, this’ll all seem like a bad dream.

‘Let’s go to the cafeteria and have a cup of tea, shall we?’ Eddie suggests.

To tell the truth he looks like he needs one as much as me, so we roll back the iron gate on the lift and take it up to the top floor.

‘I think you’re in good hands with Michaels,’ Eddie says when we’re sitting down at a table by the window. There aren’t many people around, so it’s all right to talk, though I wouldn’t be surprised if that Cissy bleeding Weiner doesn’t have her beady eye out somewhere, and her radar lugs.

I nod. ‘Yeah, he seems to be good. Got rid of it last time, anyway. Let’s hope he can do it again.’

‘He sounded confident he could. Lucky you don’t have to go in again.’

There doesn’t seem to be any more to say, so we stare out the window and drink our tea. It’s a nice day out there. Sun’s shining and it’s warm enough not to need our coats, but we’ve brought them anyway. It said on the forecast that it might go off a bit chilly later, so just as well I made Susan take her anorak this morning, even though she didn’t want to. I don’t know, everything’s a battle with that girl.

‘Well, I suppose I’d better be getting on then,’ Eddie says, finishing his tea and pushing his empty cup and saucer across the table.

Yes, he better, heaven knows we don’t want him losing any more money for taking time off.

‘Are you all right?’ he asks.

‘Course I am,’ I answer. ‘Right as rain. So what do you want for your tea?’

‘Oh, I don’t mind. Anything.’

‘Steak and kidney pie? I can call in the butchers on the way home.’

‘Steak and kidney pie. That’ll be nice.’

We walk outside, and the birds are singing. The gardens are very well kept here at Cossham. A lot better than at that dreary place where I had the operation, the General. Everything looked as though it was about to die down there, including the people. I’ve always liked Cossham. I mean if you have to like a hospital, this one’s very nice.

‘Are you going to call in to see Tyldesley?’ Eddie says, as we reach his bus stop.

‘What for? I think one doctor in a day is enough, don’t you?’

‘Well, Michaels said you should, and you’re going past.’

I don’t remember Michaels saying that, but I expect he said a lot I don’t remember at the minute.

‘Are you seeing your Bob later?’ I ask him.

‘I’d forgotten about that.’

‘Take the kids up. Susan always likes seeing Julie and Karen. There’s some bingo on tonight. I’ll go with Betty.’

‘Here’s the bus,’ he says. ‘Are you going to be all right?’

‘Course I am. You just make sure you’re not late home if I’m making steak and kidney pie.’

‘Oh, I’ll never be late for that,’ he says, grinning. ‘You make the best steak and kidney pie this side of the Severn tunnel.’

‘Go on,’ I say, giving him a gentle thump on the arm. ‘Get on that bus and go and earn us some money so we can go on holiday this summer. Dawlish again? Let’s invite your Bob and Flo to come with us, shall we?’

‘All right. I’ll ask him tonight.’

The bus is alongside us now. We both know the driver, so we give him a wave, and Eddie jumps on. He stands on the platform watching me as the bus pulls away. I wave then turn to cross the road. I don’t want to watch him until the bus goes out of sight, because it’s soppy, with everyone looking on. Anyway, there’s no point wasting time, I’ve got to go up Kingswood now to find a new pair of shoes for Susan to wear with her new lemon dress up the Whitsun parade, and a nice shirt for Gary so he’ll look smart on the back of the Sally Army lorry too. Only a few weeks to go now. Me, Eddie and our mam’ll stand outside Woolworth’s to watch them go past, I think, or a bit further down towards the park. I’d better make up me mind, because the kids will want to know where to look out for us. We can follow the lorry back then, if we can get through the crowds, and take them down the Shant, the same as we do every year. We always have a good laugh down the Shant. I’ll get our Phyllis to go early to make sure we get a table in the garden, if it’s not raining. It never rains on Whit Monday though, or not that I can ever remember.

By the time Eddie comes home from work both kids have been sent to bed, though I can’t for the life of me remember what they’ve done wrong. I expect they were just getting on my nerves, screaming and yelling about the place, and getting under my feet. I’m not in the mood for it today. I’m just not.

‘How long have they been up there?’ Eddie asks.

To tell the truth, I can’t remember that either. ‘About ten minutes,’ I say.

‘I’ll go up to them now then, and get them to come down and say sorry.’

‘All right. Tea’s ready in about five minutes.’

‘Steak and kidney pie?’

‘Lamb chops.’

He goes to hang up his coat then I hear him trudging up the stairs, putting on the monster’s voice that thrills them to bits. I don’t expect they’d mind it too much if it was just him and them, they love him so much. Now there’s a bloody daft thing to think, of course they’d bloody mind. I’m their mother, for God’s sake.

I pull out the grill to check on the chops, then spoon some Bisto into a jug to make the gravy. The cabbage is done, so I carry the steaming saucepan over to the sink, tip it into a colander and catch the water in a bowl underneath. Eddie likes to drink the cabbage water, and believe it or not, so does Susan. I have the dickens of a time making her eat the stuff though. She don’t like carrots much either, or boiled potatoes, so she’s not going to be very happy with her tea tonight.

Here they come, thundering down the stairs.

‘Sorry Mum,’ Susan says, coming into the kitchen.

‘Sorry Mum,’ Gary echoes.

I wonder if they know what they’re saying sorry for, because I’m blowed if I do. ‘All right. Go and lay the table now then, your tea’s nearly ready. Snowballs for afters.’

I thought that might raise a cheer, and it does, a typically noisy one. We’re all partial to a snowball in our house, a cream-filled chocolate ball covered in coconut flakes. I make them meself sometimes, but I bought these in a box up Fine Fare today.

‘Did you call in to see Tyldesley?’ Eddie asks when we’re sitting down at the table.

I glance over to make sure the children can’t hear, but they’re busy arguing about who’s best, Cliff Richard or the Beatles. ‘No,’ I answer. ‘I’ll go tomorrow.’

‘Want me to come with you?’

‘Don’t be daft. You’ve taken enough time off already. We’ll end up broke if we go on like this.’

He doesn’t argue, because he knows I’m right. Anyway, I don’t want him to come with me. I just want to get it over with now, with the minimum of fuss.

‘Have you thought about what to tell the kids for the days you have radium?’ he asks.

‘Not yet,’ I say, irritably. ‘Probably the same as last time, that I’ve got a little night job.’

‘What about telling them the truth?’

‘Don’t be ridiculous. They’re much too young to understand.’

‘I don’t mean about everything, I just mean about the hospital. We can say you’re having a course of treatment to make you feel better, because you’ve been a bit tired lately. Something simple like that.’

I don’t suppose it’s a bad idea, but I’ll have to think about it, because I don’t want them going blabbing round the street that their mum’s not well, and knowing my kids they will.

I put down my knife and fork and pick up my cup of tea. ‘Want that other lamb chop?’ I say to Eddie.

‘Mm, if you’re not going to eat it,’ he says, and lifts the one I’ve left from my plate onto his.

‘Are you eating your cabbage over there, you two?’

‘Yes Mummy.’

‘It doesn’t look much like it to me. Come on, eat those greens and the carrots, they’ll help you see in the dark.’

‘Why do we have to see in the dark?’ Susan says. ‘Why can’t we just put the light on?’

‘Eat them, Miss Clever Clogs. No snowballs until you do.’

‘Are you coming up Uncle Bob’s with us?’ Gary asks.

‘No. I’m going to bingo.’

When the washing-up’s done and all put away, Eddie takes them off and I go and knock for Betty. She doesn’t know I went up to get the results today, so I don’t say anything. Course, I’ll have to tell her some time, because I’ll need her help with the kids, but she’s as good as gold, never gossips behind my back and never goes making a fuss when there’s no need to.

Can you believe it, I go round the bingo with only a shilling in me pocket and I come back with thirty-five quid. I’ve never had such a big win. It perks me up no end, it does. Thirty-five bloody quid. Wait till I tell Eddie.

‘I think you should get something nice for yourself,’ he tells me. ‘A new suit to wear up the Whitsun parade, or a nice string of pearls. You always wanted one. We can go up Zaringers on Saturday and have a look if you like.’

‘I’m not going to spend it all on me,’ I laugh. ‘I want to get something for you lot too. What about a nice new suit for you to wear up the Whitsun parade? You haven’t had one since we got married.’

‘I don’t need one. That’s a smart suit, that is.’

He’s right, it is, with its waistcoat and pinstripes, and he looks handsome in it too. ‘You could do with some new shoes though,’ I remind him.

‘Get something for yourself first, then we’ll see what’s left over.’

‘It’ll pay for our holiday. Let’s use it for that. Did you ask Bob and Flo if they want to come?’

‘They’re going to think about it, see if they can afford it. They’ve got a surprise for you though. One of Bob’s regulars gave him three tickets for My Fair Lady down the Odeon. I said why don’t you go with them and I’ll look after the kids.’

‘Well, why don’t we buy another ticket so you can come too, and we’ll ask your Nance to babysit? We’ve got the money now.’

He’s laughing and so am I.

‘We’re rich!’ I cry.

‘We’re rich,’ he echoes.

The children are up getting ready for bed, so it’s all right to have a bit of a cuddle. We might do a bit more than that after he’s read them a story.

We’ll see.