Fran Macilvey

‘Faith, Hope and Love’ Part 28

Gradually, the story of Arthur’s time in hospital came out, in bits and pieces, as we were making cups of tea or gathering up armfuls of laundry.

Arthur moved back home, after a fashion, to collect his mail and have his own space from time to time. But most days, we were together. I knew that Arthur might have forgotten a great deal about his life before his heart attack, and that he might feel confused or emotional. I was prepared for that.

So I was a bit taken aback by his calm silence and sheer agreeableness. I expected that cardiac convalescents were supposed to be tetchy, variable as the shade by aspens made but no, Arthur was the soul of peaceful gratitude.

“I went to heaven, you know, when I was asleep in the hospital. I just floated away – I could see them all around the bed, working so hard on my body, and I wasn’t there.” Sipping tea, Arthur shook his head, mildly incredulous. “I was watching the whole performance, somewhere up near the light fittings, probably. I could see the nurses’ pins in their hair… Lilian met me when I arrived in this place filled with white light. She looked radiant, so bright, filled with joy. She showed me where she was living, and how she was still around to help, often, and that there was nothing to feel sorry about. She says she visits, and helps to make sure things work out. She likes to remind me to water the plants, because she can hear them screaming when they get thirsty, she says.”

I was surprised, but his explanation answered a few of my own questions. “Yes, I can see that meeting Lilian again would make everything brighter.”

“Yes…” Lost in his memories, he abruptly resumed, “But you see, she also showed me that we visit Heaven all the time, in our dreams. She showed me how light moves, so powerfully. When we are happy, we light up with the same kind of light. Such colours! Everything is very intense, so bright. She knows how hard it was for us both, all those years. She also said,” he paused, almost embarrassed, “She said we can make heaven here, too, and that she wants us to be happy.”

“That feels about right,” I answered, though my words came out muffled. Impulsively, before I could stop myself, I blurted out, “Arthur, I was wondering… I was hoping that maybe we might…get married some time. Would you like that?”

The silence stretched for so long that I was unsure whether he had heard. When he finally looked up, his eyes were brimming with tears. “I thought you might not want to. I thought that perhaps… you would feel…”  In answer, I just gripped his fingers tight.

We have our family now. We see Jamie often. He comes up to visit when he can. Jamie’s habit of ignoring playground jibes seems to have rubbed off on Elaine. Though she remains hesitant, she can hold her own in a playground spat. She is also helping the school to set up a playground buddying scheme so that bullying gets spotted early and is reported to the school.

We have been down to visit Vivienne. I wish you could have seen her face when Arthur said, “I’d like you to meet my wife.” She is very ill now, though. The years of alcohol abuse and not eating properly have caught up with her. Though we help her when we can, we don’t feel guilty about leaving her. We just do what we can, and frankly, Vivienne has had to grow up a bit. It is an enormous weight off Arthur’s shoulders and I can see him looking younger every day, without that to worry about.

We are keeping both of our houses, just for now. There’s no hurry to sell up.

***

THE END

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‘Faith, Hope and Love’ Part 27

Elaine was home when we got back, and thoughtfully met us at the door. Seeing her wide smile, I wanted to sweep her into a hug and ask her how the day had gone, but before I could, she was taking bags from me and diligently placing them out of the way.

“Come in, Mum!” She smiled shyly at Arthur as he nodded, suddenly self-conscious at our impromptu welcoming committee.

Though Arthur stood quiet, his eyes gradually warmed to the scene. Clearly, he was pleased to be away from the pale walls and sluggish warmth of the hospital. He shrugged his shoulders tiredly as I carefully took his coat and slung it over the bannister. “Let’s have a nice cup of tea, shall we?” Arthur nodded slightly, gratefully, and followed me through to the back of the house as if suddenly afraid he might get lost, detached.

We were all feeling emotional, I think, when James suddenly appeared in the doorway.

“Dad!” He tried not to sound too excitable. “How are you, Dad? What are you doing home?” His face registered open astonishment, delight and worry all at once.

“They’ve let me out, at last,” Arthur replied, clearly equally amazed to see his son. It was just as well he was standing near the kitchen units, or the shock might have tipped him off his feet, but he managed to shake his son’s hand, pull him into an embrace and kiss his cheeks fondly.

“It’s lovely to see you, James, Lovely.”

“You too, Dad.”

“How – I mean, why are you here?”

“Well, Marian asked me to come down for a few days, just to help out.” James winked at Elaine who smiled broadly at him and was laughing quietly into her hands.

“So!” Arthur nodded, “We’re all together, are we?” He looked speculatively at Elaine grinning, at James hovering, ever so slightly furtive, and at me, pouring boiling water into a teapot.

“Yes, my darling. We didn’t plan it quite that way, though. Elaine, do you want to tell me what happened today?” I smoothly took the focus away from Arthur so that he could relax a bit, and Elaine launched happily into her story.

“Well, you see, Mum, when we got to school, Jamie was playing the fool, running about and yelling a bit, drawing attention to himself, I think. We were mucking about, when Susan walked past.” Elaine burst out laughing, and could hardly speak for giggles. “When she saw us, she slowed right down, and I could see she was just dying to -”

“She was being totally nosy,” said James, “desperate to know who I was, and what I was doing there, all the usual stuff. But of course I just smiled. Elaine called out, “Hello, Susan!” and carried on walking past. You should have seen her face!”

“And all through class today, they kept away from me, and then, after lunch, Susan comes right out and asks, ‘Who was that boy?’ and I just said, really casual, you know, ‘Oh, just a friend.’ I could tell she was desperate for details, and annoyed that I would not tell her, but why should I? She is just a nosy cow. Oh, and you should have seen her face when Jamie was waiting for me after school! He just gave me a great big hug, like he had so been missing me, and he took my bag and we walked home together really slowly.”

“Thank you, Jamie,” I said, knowing he would have enjoyed his part. “As tomorrow is Friday, I was wondering… When are you thinking of heading back to Uni?”

“Well, I should really get back, so maybe I could go to the station after Elaine’s at school on Monday. Would that be okay?”

“That would be just – just perfect, James, thank you so much.” I turned to face the counter so that he would not see how relieved I was. Knocking open cupboards and banging drawers – noisy displacement activity – I hoped no-one noticed my eyes misting over with tears, again.

***

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‘Faith, Hope and Love’ Part 26

After almost three weeks, and despite occasional setbacks, I knew that Arthur would soon be leaving hospital and I was excited at the prospect. Set against the receding danger of any relapse, the benefits of being in his personal space, where he could rest, eat good food and take gentle exercise, looked increasingly attractive. I had visited almost every day, and despite the familiarity of our routines, it was tiring to sit with polite, stilted formality, careful of every word. I wanted to kick back and relax, sing, smile and see Arthur laughing again.

That afternoon, I arrived at the ward earlier than usual, to find Arthur fully dressed and waiting expectantly by his bed, his hair combed neatly and his jacket flung over the neatly folded sheets.

“Hoping to leave today, then?” I asked, smiling broadly.

“Yes, I think so,” he mumbled.

“Has the doctor been in to see you?”

“Not yet. Been waiting a while.”

“I’ll just go and check.” I scurried back along the corridor. “Excuse me, is Mr. Thompson leaving today?”

“Yes, That’s right. But Dr Semple is running a little late.”

“How long has he been waiting?”

“A couple of hours, maybe?”

I glanced at my watch, which showed 2.15. “I have to be away by four. Is there any chance of that?”

“I should think so,” she considered, “It shouldn’t be long.” .

I fetched us tea which Arthur sipped placidly but without enjoyment. We went for a short walk, he glanced at an old crossword, gazed out of the window. He was jumpy, perhaps dreading to hear, “I’m sorry, it’s too late to go home today, it’ll have to be tomorrow.” Eventually, a thin, tired-looking young man hove in view, almost running along the corridor. He introduced himself with the minimum of formalities.

“Mr. Thompson? Sorry to keep you waiting. There are just a few papers for you to sign…” Dry Semple pulled sheets out of a manila folder and laid them out over the bed. Arthur penned his signatures with a brave flourish, though his hands wobbled and his fingers slipped around the unfamiliar, slick barrel of the pen. Released at last, he offered a formal handshake, murmuring a few words of thanks.

I was waiting with his coat slung over my arm. We walked slowly down the ward, past the desk and to the lifts, then along the gloomy main corridor and out into bright sunlight. He wobbled a couple of times, dizzy after spending so long lying in bed, but we took our time. I knew he was happy to be outside at last. I hugged him gently as two single tears rolled over his cheeks. Carefully, we drove home.

***

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