Page 10 of A Mother’s Last Wish

10

HOLLY

Lou and the kids will be here soon. My beautiful pristine kitchen will probably look like a bomb has hit it within minutes of their arrival and I cannot wait. The house is always tidy, aside from when Tigs decides to shed some of his marmalade orange fur on the sofa, or leaves scuff marks when he has a one-sided fight with the rug. It shouldn’t be like this. There were going to be children, three ideally, who’d drive me mad by leaving their shoes and coats wherever they fell at the end of a long day. I’d roll my eyes and look at Jacob, the two of us exchanging a silent understanding that the children were hard work but worth every moment of it. Except, in the end, there hadn’t even been one child.

Even before my breast cancer diagnosis, I’d started to try and come to terms with life as a family of two, in case the IVF didn’t give us the results we so desperately wanted. I forced myself to think about all the things we could do that people with children couldn’t, and by the time of the third failed IVF I was really getting there. I didn’t want to put my body through any of that again. I wanted to let it rest and recuperate, and for me to get strong again – physically and emotionally – ready to embrace a life of travel and adventure, and long lie-ins on the weekend with the Sunday papers. Maybe there’d even be a chance to lose myself in painting or drawing again. It was something that had been important to me when I was growing up. Lou and I both had our own coping mechanisms, to help us deal with a chaotic and painful childhood. Writing was her escape, and that passion was something she turned into a career. I’d always retreated into my own, safe world – one that I could create and control – with the aid of a sketch book, or a blank canvas that I could transform. Our grandparents kept us supplied with the things we needed for what they called our ‘hobbies’, but Lou and I both knew they were far more than that, they were essential to our survival.

Like my sister, I dreamt of one day turning that passion into a job, but I sought security in a different way to Lou. She has always needed a Plan B, but I’ve always needed to be certain that I could provide for myself financially, having never had that kind of certainty as a child. That caution stood me in good stead when it turned out that my body had another surprise for me, and that Jacob had an even bigger shock in store.

He waited until just after I’d got the all-clear to finally leave me, even though he’d checked out emotionally long before then. So two became one, until I bought Tigs, a bundle of soft ginger fur that was wet with my tears for much of the first year of his life. He’s ten now, getting on a bit and too set in his ways for me to get the dog I’ve been longing to get for the last couple of years. Flo will love that; she’s desperate for a dog and I think Lou and Tom were getting close to giving in, but they’ve got too much on their plates right now. Even as I catch myself thinking that, I know it’s a ridiculous way to put it. Too much on their plates makes it sound like they’re busy with work, or in the midst of a house renovation. What they’re facing is a terrifying diagnosis of incurable and terminal cancer.

Being told I was dying was the thing I feared the most when I first got the news I had cancer and, after that, it was the thought of it coming back. For a few weeks after Jacob had left, a tiny part of me almost wished that I hadn’t made it through the cancer, because I didn’t want to be here any more. I shook it off quite quickly and I hate myself for thinking that way now, not least because it was Lou who got me through the darkest of those days. And looking back, wasting any time on missing Jacob feels like a joke, especially given his reaction when I first realised I had a lump. My almost non-existent boobs were something I’ve been teased about since secondary school, and my husband used to joke about not being able to find them in the dark, but it was probably because of their small size that my cancer was detected so early.

‘Christ, what the hell is that?’ Those were Jacob’s exact words when he felt the pea-sized lump under his fingertips, with more repulsion than concern in his voice and I should have known then how useless he’d turn out to be in terms of offering any support. It was Lou who was there for me through every appointment, who ran around making sure I had everything I needed, and who let me cry and rage during the treatment and afterwards, when Jacob decided he didn’t love me any more and I was left questioning whether he ever really had. So it isn’t fair that Lou’s the one facing a far more aggressive cancer, now.

I started volunteering for some charities after my first year in remission, and it’s really helped with getting a wider perspective on things. I read a great blog post last night from a woman living with stage-four cancer who wrote something that really hit home. Being human in itself is a terminal condition, and just because someone has a grade-four diagnosis, it doesn’t mean they have to think of themselves as waiting to die, any more than the rest of us do. So whatever the results of her PET scan, I don’t want to think of Lou like that, because the thought of her not being around will do so much to take away from the time we’ve still got together. And, who knows, she might still outlive me. There are so many new breakthroughs all the time and I was on a different forum last night, reading posts from people undergoing successful immunotherapy treatments for grade-four cancers that are holding them at bay indefinitely. There’s no reason why Lou shouldn’t get on one of those trials, and with Tom’s connections, he’d be in a great place to find out about them.

I’m determined to be hopeful and there’s no reason not to be. I’m going to treat Lou the way I always have done and, whatever the results, I’ll help her keep focusing on what matters the most. We’re going to bake with kids when they come over, make the best chocolate chip cookies in the world, like our nan taught us to when we were around Flo’s age, and I’m going to give it to her straight, if she starts getting fixated on the worst-case scenario. I’m more than happy to dish out a bit of tough love if that’s what it takes, because she’d be the first person to do that for me if our roles were reversed. And the truth is, it’ll be easier to try and manage Lou’s fears than to face my own.

‘Auntie Hols!’ Small fists hammer on my front door, at the same time as my name is called out, and I can’t help smiling as I open it, even before Stan hurls himself into my arms and gives me the sort of hug I firmly believe could solve any problem. I just hope I’m right.

The kitchen is every bit as wrecked as I thought it would be, but the kids have loved making cookies as much as Lou and I used to. The biscuits are cooling on the racks now, and to distract Flo and Stan, I’ve given them Tigs’ special brush and he’s letting them pet him and brush him without too much complaint. Smiling as I watch them, I turn to Lou, expecting her to be smiling too, but her face looks like stone.

‘Are you okay?’

‘Will you show me how the rose bushes you planted for Nan and Gramps are getting on?’ It’s been more than ten years since I planted those bushes and I’ve got no idea why she’s suddenly so interested in their progress, but Lou’s eyes are pleading with me not to question her.

‘Okay.’ As I say the word, a shiver goes up my spine and I notice the pinched look on Louisa’s face, and I know why she wants us to go into the garden. She’s going to tell me about her results, and all the confidence I had that they’d be as good as possible has evaporated. I’m not sure how I’ll even be able to follow her outside, but I know I have to.

‘We’ll be back in a minute, kids, Auntie Holly is just going to show me some of her flowers in the garden, but we’ll be watching you through the window.’ The children barely look up, and Lou knows as well as I do that the garden holds nowhere near as much appeal for them as Tigs does.

‘What did the doctor say?’ We’re barely out of the door before I fire the question at her and I can tell by her face what the answer is going to be before she even opens her mouth, and I can’t stop the tears that fill my eyes.

‘It’s spread much further than we hoped, which means there’s no chance of a cure.’ Lou somehow manages to get the whole sentence out and then her chin starts to wobble, just before she bursts into tears. We’re both crying and I hold on to her, but the truth is she’s holding me up too. This can’t be happening. I can’t lose Lou; she’s everything to me.

I don’t know how long we stay like that, but eventually Lou recovers enough to tell me more about what her doctors have said, including the potential prognosis and the treatment plan.

‘What can I do?’ It’s a stupid question, because nothing I can do will make this go away and that’s all either of us want.

‘I don’t know.’ Lou glances towards the French windows, where Stan and Flo are visible on the other side, still lavishing attention on Tigs. ‘I can’t leave them Holly, they need me, they need their mum.’

‘You’re not going anywhere.’ I’m saying it because I desperately want it to be true, but Louisa shakes her head and grabs hold of my arm.

‘Don’t Hols, please. I need your help.’

‘How?’ Something in her face has changed; there’s a look of determination I’ve never seen before and, whatever it is, I know she won’t take no for an answer.

‘Tom isn’t going to manage on his own.’

‘You know I’ll be there for him for anything he needs.’ My throat is burning with the urge to cry again, but I’m no good to Lou if I’m constantly in tears, so I blink as hard as I can to try and keep them at bay.

‘I know, but he won’t want to be on his own forever. He’s not cut out for it. He’s gone from one relationship to another and there’ll come a day when he’ll want to meet someone else. I’m scared that when he does he’ll make the wrong decision. I’ll get no say in who’s going to raise my children and the thought of who that might be terrifies me.’

‘Lou, I know you must feel as if you can’t think straight, but none of this is important right now. You’re talking about what-ifs and maybes that might never happen. Tom couldn’t even bear to contemplate life without you when we spoke about it before, so he’s hardly likely to rush out and start a new relationship.’ I want to promise her that even if he does, it will be years away, because the chemo she’s about to start will work its magic and hold the cancer at bay for much longer than the average person gets. I can’t accept a scenario where that isn’t the case, but I know she doesn’t want empty platitudes, and she squeezes my arm hard.

‘Just because Tom said he wouldn’t want anyone else, doesn’t mean it’s true. Look what happened when Jess died. No one thought that Jack would be living with someone else so quickly, but then he moved Megan in. She seems like a nice enough woman, but there’s no knowing who Tom might pick. I can’t risk that for Stan and Flo, I need to know that they’re going to be okay.’ Lou holds my gaze and I know nothing I do or say will stop her fixating on this.

Our cousin, Jess, was killed in a car accident when she had her two-year-old son strapped into the back seat. We were all so grateful he’d survived unscathed, but it was a shock to discover that within nine months her fiancé, Jack, had moved his new girlfriend into the family home. He’d seemed completely devoted to Jess, and I would have bet my house that he wouldn’t move on for years, if at all. Yet less than a year after she’d died, he had a whole new life. So Louisa knows it can happen.

I know Lou needs me to promise I’ll help, but how the hell am I supposed to help her plan for her husband moving on, while she’s still around? Especially as I don’t want to give her any scope to believe we’ll be okay without her and to even think about giving up. She needs to have every reason to keep going no matter how tough the treatment gets. Even as the thought enters my head, I realise how selfish I’m being, but I can’t help it.

‘You don’t need to worry about any of that, you just need to focus on the treatment so you can be here for as long as possible. Nothing else matters.’

‘I can’t focus on anything, not until I have a?—’

‘Plan B?’ I ask and Lou nods. She mentioned having a Plan B for Tom meeting someone else when she first got diagnosed, but I thought focusing on that had been borne out of shock. I knew she’d want a Plan B for the children, but I can’t help thinking she’s fixating on the wrong things. I can see she’s serious, though, and I doubt there’s anything I can do or say to change her mind.

‘See, you know me better than anyone, and if I’m not here to make sure Tom doesn’t do anything stupid I need to be able to rely on you. I can’t bear Stan and Flo going through what we did, especially as it could be even worse for them if the wrong person comes into their lives. Please, Hols. I need to know you’ll make sure that never happens.’

I nod, understanding exactly what she means without the need for her to expand. However much our parents let us down, we knew that in their own twisted way they loved us, their addiction just had them in a stronger grip. We never had to live with a stand-in parent who resented our existence, the way we feared Dad’s girlfriends would have done if any of them had stuck around for long enough. We also had grandparents we could rely on. Flo and Stan don’t have that, but they do have a father who knows how to put them first, something we never had. I need to help Lou see that, but right now I know what she needs from me most of all is my support, and it’s as unconditional as my love for her and the children. ‘What do you want me to do?’

‘I need you to make me another promise.’ I hold my breath as I wait for her to continue, but whatever it is I’ll find a way.

‘I want you to make sure that when I’m gone, Tom picks the right kind of person, and I want you to help me to start laying the foundations for that while I’m still here.’

‘How are we going to do that?’ I want to tell her it’s a crazy idea, but she needs me to be there for her and there was never any doubt that I would be, because I understand why she needs to believe she can influence Tom’s future decisions. Her sole focus since the children arrived has been to protect them from getting hurt. She can’t do anything about the fact that they’re going to lose her, so in her mind the next best thing is having some kind of say into who takes her place. What she can’t seem to understand is that those are impossible shoes to fill, and that Tom would never allow anyone into the children’s lives if he thought it would be detrimental to them in any way. Her thoughts aren’t rational and I’m probably the only person who’d understand why she feels she has to do this.

‘I don’t know yet, but when I work it out, just promise me you’ll be on board.’

‘I promise.’ Lou hugs me tight and whispers a thank you into my ear, before turning to head back towards the house. I’ve still got no idea how she thinks this is going to work, but it doesn’t matter, because it won’t have to. The treatment will do what it’s supposed to, and in the meantime, I’ll go along with whatever she wants, because she’s right, I do know her better than anyone else, and there’s nothing in the world I wouldn’t do if she asked me to. Nothing.