Born Bad

The nurse shrugged. ‘If that’s what you want, who am I to argue? But I need a promise from you.’

‘What kind of promise?’

‘Let me come home with you. I’ve talked with Matron and your doctor, and they have given their permission.’

‘No!’ Sara was adamant. ‘We’ve already been through this, and the answer is still no.’

‘Very well, but,’ Nurse McDonald held up the paper bag in her hand, ‘you must keep these close to you at all times. If the pain gets too bad, they’ll help you cope, until you get back here.’

Sara’s gaze was drawn to the big blue cross on the side of the bag. She knew what it contained, and she hoped the powerful medication would not be needed until she got back here at six o’clock, as agreed. ‘Hmh! I can see I’m not the only bossy tramp round here.’

‘Exactly right!’ The nurse wagged a finger. ‘You would do well to remember that.’ Taking control of the wheelchair, she thrust it forward. ‘Until six o’clock tonight, then, and not a minute later, mind. I’ll be right here, waiting for you to come back through that door.’

Sara laughed. ‘I don’t doubt that for one minute,’ she joked.

As the two of them wended their way along the ward, the other patients waved, and wished her well. ‘You behave yourself now,’ they merrily instructed. ‘No gallivanting, and no giving that handsome husband of yours a hard time!’

‘Have a lovely day, m’dear.’ Miss Bateman was formidable and difficult, and normally she kept herself to herself. On this occasion though, she felt the need to be gracious.

‘See you later, pet.’ That was Alice Arnold, a kindly soul, recovering from pneumonia. ‘Give that little lad of yours a big hug from me!’

The well-meaning advice continued, lighting her way, until the ward doors closed behind her.

When they reached the reception area, Sara carefully scribbled her signature onto the prepared documents.

‘Are you really sure you want to do this, Sara?’ The young doctor understood her reason for wanting to spend a normal day with her family, and he was reluctant to spoil it. But he was not happy with the situation.

‘It is what I want to do,’ she smiled up at him, ‘more than anything else in the world.’

He nodded his acknowledgement, because if he spoke he might show his emotion, and that would not be professional.

‘Sara has her medication.’ Nurse McDonald pre-empted his next question.

‘Do you have the direct ward number,’ he looked down at Sara, ‘in case your husband needs to contact us?’

She patted the pretty blue handbag that Harry had delivered only that morning. ‘It’s all in here,’ she assured him. ‘But I’ll be fine, you’ll see.’

‘Very well. Have a lovely day, and we’ll see you back here this evening.’ Deeply humbled, the young man strode away. There was little else he could do.

Having arrived at the hospital, Harry swung the car into the one remaining parking place. ‘Come on, little fella.’ He lifted Tom out of the car. ‘Your mammy’s waiting for you.’

When Tom caught sight of Sara, waiting in her wheelchair at the entrance, there was no holding him. ‘Mammy! Mammy!’ Arms open, he ran to her, brimming with tales and needing a hug.

Harry could not take his eyes off Sara. ‘You look so beautiful!’

For the first time in an age, he could see the girl he had married; that glowing girl with the wide, wonderful smile, and those quiet brown eyes. ‘You look … stunning!’ Try as he might, Harry could not find the right words.

Sara felt a rush of pride. ‘I’m glad you approve,’ she retorted cheekily. ‘I hope you realise it took a wagonload of make-up and an army of people to produce this new me.’

Much to everyone’s concern, she then helped her son clamber onto her lap, while he chatted excitedly of seagulls and ice cream.

Safe and content in her embrace, Tom wrapped his small arms round her neck and kissed her full on the mouth.

Fearing that Tom’s enthusiasm was bound to take its toll, Harry gently removed the boy from her lap. ‘I tell you what.’ He handed the flowers to Tom. ‘You give these to Mammy, then you can help me to push the wheelchair to the car. What do you say?’

The child glanced up, looking for his mammy’s approval. When she nodded, he ran to the rear of the wheelchair, feeling tall and proud next to Nurse McDonald. ‘Do you think you’re big enough?’ she asked with a mischievous glint in her eye.

Tom stretched to his full height. ‘I’m bigger than Johnny Mason.’

‘Oh, and are you strong enough, my little man?’

The boy flexed his muscles. ‘’Course I am!’

Nurse Aileen kept him chatting while Harry enjoyed a quiet moment with his wife.

‘Are you sure you feel able to come home with us?’ he asked her, his heart full.

Sara pressed her finger to Harry’s lips. ‘I’ve been looking forward to it all morning,’ she whispered, and he knew not to argue with her. Besides, though it was a bittersweet thing, after endless weeks of seeing her in a hospital bed, it was so wonderful to be taking her home.

A few minutes later, after thanking Nurse Aileen, the little group left the hospital.

Having got Sara to the car without any difficulty, Harry opened the rear door for Tom, then pushed the front seat back as far as it would go. Gently lifting Sara out of the wheelchair and into the car, he was devastated to realise how thin and weightless his wife had become.

He sensed her looking up at him. Her eyes held his gaze, and though not a word was spoken, the bond between them was a powerful thing; so much so, that he believed he would suffocate. ‘I love you so much,’ he whispered in her ear.

‘Show me how much.’ The pretty brown eyes twinkled mischievously.

Deeply moved, he gazed on her a moment longer, then he leaned forward and, steadying himself with one hand, he placed the other to the side of her face, and then he kissed her – a long, wonderful kiss that told her everything she needed to know.

‘We need to go to the park!’ Full of childish anticipation, Tom was clapping his hands. ‘I want Mammy to see the ducks!’

Sara laughed. ‘You two have already been gadding about the beach and now you want to go to the park?’ Sara was glad that Harry had not yet told their son the truth, but there would be time enough, she thought. It was only right that her darling boy should enjoy the magic in his carefree world, for just a while longer.

She worried about them both; especially Harry. He would have no one to console him, while Tom would always have his daddy. She thought of Irish Kathleen, and not for the first time she prayed with all her heart that Harry would keep his promise and return to Fisher’s Hill, the place where he was born. He still had friends there; people who had cared for him as a boy, and whom he had badly missed over the years.

Sara knew that for Harry, going back to face his demons would not be easy. But it would be a fresh start for both him and young Tom.

She truly believed it was the right thing for her husband and son, and it was what she herself wanted. Harry always kept his promises, and she knew he would keep this one; albeit reluctantly.

‘Mammy! You have to come and see!’ Tom was insistent. ‘You have to come and help us feed the ducks!’

‘That’s enough, Tom.’ Harry could see how tired his wife was. ‘I told you we might have to leave it for another day. Your mammy needs to rest. We must take her home.’ Harry was desperate to get her settled and comfortable. ‘We’ll maybe go later – see if your mammy feels up to it then. All right, son?’

On the verge of tears, Tom nodded. ‘All right.’

As he drove away, all manner of things were running through Harry’s mind. Should he tell the boy today … tell him right now, or later when they were all together at home? No! The doctor said not to tell him until it was absolutely necessary. ‘No need upsetting him a minute before you have to,’ that was what he had advised. Yet Harry felt the weight of it like a mountain on his shoulders.

He thought it was wrong not to warn the boy, yet like the doctor, he was coming round to the idea that it might be best if he left it for a while – not too long though. Maybe it could wait until tomorrow, after Sara was back in the hospital.

Yes, that was it, he decided. He would tell young Tom tomorrow.

Giving Sara a reassuring squeeze of the hand, he headed out of the hospital grounds, towards home.

As they travelled along, Sara kept glancing in the rearview mirror; she could see the disappointment in her son’s eyes. Harry was right, she was tired, and she could hardly wait to see her home after all these weeks. But, it was so hard, seeing Tom’s forlorn little face.

Her mind was made up. ‘Head for the park, Harry,’ she said. ‘I really would like to go and see the ducks with you and Tom.’

Tom gave a whoop of joy. ‘I told you! I knew Mammy wanted to see the ducks. Please, Daddy. Please!’

‘Stop it, Tom.’ Harry couldn’t think straight. ‘Be quiet for a minute.’ Turning briefly to Sara, he asked, ‘Are you sure you’re up to it?’

Sara took a moment, before giving her answer. ‘You said this would be my day,’ she reminded him gently. ‘You said I could do whatever I wanted.’

‘I know, but I meant—’

‘I know what you meant. “Within the boundaries” is what you meant. But what’s the sense in having boundaries?’ She gave him a long, quiet look that spoke volumes. ‘If I don’t go right now, I may never get another chance.’

Harry knew she was right, but he could not bring himself to speak of it. Besides, there was nothing he could say that she didn’t already know; that they didn’t both already know.

Behind them, Tom was yelling with excitement.

‘I should have known the two of you would gang up on me,’ Harry groaned. ‘I never could get the better of you pair.’

The park was fairly busy, with young mums pushing their big coach-built prams along and occasionally stopping to point out the ducks and swans to the babies inside. People went strolling by and older men sat on the benches, enjoying their pipes and newspapers; and right there, leaning over the rails, a young woman was feeding her half-eaten sandwich to the clamouring ducks.

Having parked up, Harry switched off the engine and lifted the wheelchair out of the boot. ‘Stay where you are, Tom,’ he told the boy. ‘I’ll get Mammy out first, then we’ll go for a walk round the lake.’

‘I want to come out now!’ Tom was far too excited to remain in the car. ‘I want to show Mammy the duck with the hurt wing.’

‘Just hang on a minute, eh?’ Harry wagged a finger at him. ‘I can’t keep my eye on you and get your mammy out all at the same time.’

Shifting forward in his seat, Tom wound his arms round his mother’s neck. ‘Are you happy, Mammy? Are you glad we brought you to see the ducks?’

Sara took hold of his hands. ‘This is the happiest day of my life,’ she said, and kissed the small warm fingers.

When Harry lifted her into the wheelchair, she held onto him. ‘You won’t forget your promise, will you?’ Weak as she was, her hold on him was vice-like, and the steely look of determination in her eyes took him aback.

‘What do you mean?’ he said. He knew well enough what she meant; but he could not bear to think about it.

Sensing his dilemma, Sara’s heart was sore. The suffering had been long and hard, but right now in the depths of her soul, she was content – all but for one thing. ‘I need to know that you and Tom have a place to go, when …’ She paused, before going on more brightly. ‘If your friend Kathleen is half as wonderful as you described, I can rest easy, knowing that you and Tom will have someone who cares.’

Deliberately averting his gaze, Harry looked out across the lake. He didn’t want to talk about it, but it would not go away. It would never go away! A dark anger flooded his soul.

‘Harry?’ Her voice drifted into his thoughts. ‘I need to know,’ she repeated.

Still, Harry did not look at her. Instead he closed his eyes, taking a moment to recover, before placing his two hands on the arms of the wheelchair. He met her gaze with the deepest concern. ‘You mustn’t fret. I made you that promise,’ he spoke with quiet sincerity, ‘and I’m telling you now, hand on heart, you can be sure I mean to keep it.’ There! It was said, and the saying made it all the more real, and now the tears swam across his eyes so he could hardly see.

‘Thank you.’ With her slim, delicate fingers she wiped away his tears with a gossamer touch. Her smile was infectious. ‘Now then, my lovely, handsome man, before our son jumps right through the floorboards, can we please go and find these blessed ducks?’

Beside himself with excitement, Tom was leaping up and down in the back of the car.

A few moments later, Sara was settled in the wheelchair. Despite the warm July day, she was swathed in a rug with her feet tucked up nice and cosy; she remarked on the fresh sweet smell of the land and the water. Then she sat back, taking in the magnificent scenery, while Harry pushed her along the walkway and Tom skipped on ahead, shouting and laughing, and frightening every creature for miles around.

Sara’s pain was constant, but not yet unbearable, and for that she was thankful; though at the same time she was mindful of the medicine bag in the pouch behind her seat. Oh, but it was such a treat to be in the fresh air, where she could breathe easier, and the skies seemed never-ending. And what a joy, to see the wide meandering lake, and the mixed, colourful shrubbery beyond. ‘It’s so special here,’ she told Harry excitedly. ‘I don’t know if I ever told you, but this park has always been a favourite of mine.’

‘Mine, too.’ Tom fell over but soon jumped up again.

With Tom giving a running commentary, Harry pushed the wheelchair all the way round the lake, his attention evenly divided between his wife and his son. But all the time he was acutely aware of Sara’s medication, secreted away yet readily accessible.

Every now and then they stopped while Tom coaxed the ducks onto the grass with pieces of bread. When they waddled towards him at full speed, quacking and screeching, Tom would run away screaming like a banshee, making his mother laugh out loud.

When Harry got Sara close enough to stroke her fingers down the long slim neck of a graceful and unusually tame swan, she was beside herself. ‘Oh, Harry, he’s so soft … the feathers are so beautiful, just like silk!’

They had been there for no more than half an hour, when Harry caught Sara shivering. ‘Are you in pain?’ he asked immediately. As ever, he was right there for her.

‘No,’ she quickly assured him. ‘I felt a bit of a chill, that’s all.’

‘Right, come on, Tom. That’s enough for now,’ Harry announced. ‘It’s time to go home.’

Sara agreed. ‘It’s been wonderful, though,’ she told them both happily. ‘I would not have missed it for the world.’

On the way back to the car, Tom was thrilled to see a family of swans gliding over the lake. ‘Daddy! Mammy! Look!’ Before they could stop him, he ran across the grass to sit on a nearby bench, from where he had a good view of the birds. His voice sailed through the air. ‘COME AND SEE THE SWANS!’

Angry that he should have run off like that, Tom ordered him back. ‘We need to leave! Tom, get back here now!’

Surprising him, he felt Sara’s hand in his. ‘Leave him be, my love,’ she murmured. ‘He’s just excited.’

‘I’m concerned about you catching a chill.’

A couple of times on the way round the lake, Harry had seen her wincing with pain. When he reminded her that the medication was in the pouch, along with a flask of water, she told him she was fine, and that he worried too much.

‘Wheel me to the bench, Harry.’ Seeing how he was about to protest, she grabbed his hand. ‘Just for a minute … please?’

With Tom still yelling, and Sara so insistent, Harry reluctantly gave in. ‘A couple of minutes, that’s all,’ he conceded. ‘Then you’re both going back into the car and no arguments.’ Slipping off his jacket, he fastened it securely about Sara’s shoulders and neck.

‘Honestly, Harry! You’ve got me trussed up like a turkey,’ she grumbled, while in truth, she had never been happier.

For a few precious moments, the three of them took delight in watching the swans fly past until they were just tiny specks on the horizen.

Tom was still leaping up and down, doing acrobatics on the bench, while Sara laughed at his antics. ‘Look at him, Harry.’ The child was a sheer delight to her. ‘It does my heart good, to see him so happy.’ She ached for her son, knowing that soon, he would be faced with a terrible truth.

She looked up at her husband, her adoring gaze drawing his image into her soul. ‘Harry?’

He stooped to her. ‘Yes, sweetheart?’

‘Thank you for today,’ she told him. ‘You’ve given me the best day of my life.’

Deeply moved, Harry held her close. ‘Oh Sara, I miss you so much,’ he confessed brokenly. ‘I miss holding you when we go to bed, and waking up next to you in the morning. I miss watching you when you potter about in the garden … and hearing your awful singing when you’re doing the dishes.’ They both smiled at that. ‘All those familiar things that we took for granted, I miss them desperately. But most of all, I miss our life together.’

Choking on his words, he gulped back the emotion. ‘Sorry, sweetheart. I try to be strong, but now and then it swamps me. I feel ashamed, because it’s you I should be concerned about. Not myself.’

‘Don’t be too hard on yourself, Harry. It’s out of our hands now, and however much we want to, we can’t change that.’

As Sara ran the palm of her hand over Harry’s bowed shoulders, not for the first time she realised that, in a different way, Harry’s pain was every bit as crippling as her own.

‘All those things you said – I miss them too,’ she confided lovingly. ‘But you and me, Harry, we should be counting our blessings. We’ve been given so much – a happy life together, a darling boy, and now just look at us: here we are, sitting in the sunshine, holding each other, when there are so many people in this world who will never know how wonderful that feels. When you think about it, Harry, we haven’t done so bad, have we, eh?’

Harry shook his head in admiration. ‘You never cease to amaze me. You’ve always been able to see the best in a bad situation,’ he said. ‘And that’s another thing I love about you.’

Just then, Tom jumped off the bench and began running down the steep bank, towards the lake. ‘No, Tom! Get back here!’ Harry shouted. But the boy kept running, veering this way then that, and thinking it was all a game.

‘Go on, Harry.’ Sara had every faith in him. ‘Go get him!’ And when Harry took off at the run, she yelled encouragement. ‘Come on, you can do it! You’ve got long legs and he’s only little!’ Harry had to laugh at that, and when Tom shot off towards the shrubbery, he paused for breath, before setting off again. ‘All right Tom, that’s enough! Game over, come on now!’

Breathless now, it crossed his mind that he wasn’t as fit as he should be. ‘Tom! Your mammy’s waiting to go home!’

It wasn’t long before he had the runaway in his arms. ‘You and your mammy are two of a kind,’ Harry panted then threw him over his shoulder, until Tom squealed with laughter. Then when Harry tickled his ribs, the boy was almost hysterical.

They went along the path and up the bank, towards the spot where Sara was waiting, ‘This boy takes after you,’ Harry called ahead. ‘Disobedient and wilful, that’s what he is.’

As they drew closer, Harry continued to lightheartedly tease and grumble. ‘Oh yes, he’s definitely taken after his mother. It’s no good, Sara, you’re gonna have to get him under control, because he doesn’t listen to a word I say …’ He stopped in his tracks. Something was wrong! He could sense it.

Swinging Tom from his shoulders, he ran forward. ‘Sara! … Oh dear God … my SARA!’ But Sara was gone from this world, and when he took her in his arms, he knew her pain was over.

Passionately, he folded her to his heart, remembering the words she had said only minutes ago. ‘This is the best day of my life.’ But it was small consolation. Sara had left them behind, and he was devastated.

Instinctively, Harry caught his son to him, and together they held her – until a passing couple came to their aid.

When he thought about it later, Harry could never remember covering those last few paces to Sara. He recalled the very moment when he realised something was wrong. He felt the weight of his son on his shoulders, and he remembered swinging Tom to the ground.

But that was all; until he had Sara in his arms.

Too young, too vibrant, she had lost her fight to live.

She was at peace now; and in that agonising time when he held her, Harry thought she was more beautiful than he could ever remember.

The following week in the pretty church overlooking the shoreline, there were many tears at Sara’s untimely departure and great joy at having known her as Harry and little Tom, proud and broken, led the congregation outside, to the well-tended, colourful garden. There on the bank on a glorious August day, they laid her to rest, facing the view she had always loved.

There followed a well-set-out tea in Sara’s cosy home, where the neighbours had pulled together and taken charge.

Afterwards, when everyone was gone, Harry spoke with his son. ‘Your mammy is safe now,’ he promised him gently. ‘Someone very special is looking after her now.’

Tom flung his arms round his daddy and sobbed until it seemed he would never stop. After a time, he fell asleep in Harry’s arms, whereupon with great tenderness, his father carried him to the couch and covered him over.

With those tiny arms around his neck, Harry had felt the unforgiving burden of grief like never before.

Looking down now on that small, innocent face so much like his mammy’s, Harry’s heart turned over. ‘Look out for us, my darling,’ he wept, and glanced towards the window as though talking to some unseen person. ‘Help me to make the right decisions.’

On the last day of August, Harry and his son stood at the door of their home and watched their furniture being loaded up. ‘Have you kept back everything you need, son?’ Harry wanted the boy to be sure.

Tom held up the raggedy lop-eared dog. ‘I’ve got Loppy,’ he said, and gave the shadow of a smile.

‘Are you sure he’s all you want to take with you?’

The boy confirmed this with a nod.

‘It’s your last chance, Tom. If there’s anything else you need, you have to say so now, before the wagon leaves.’

‘I only need Loppy.’

‘Okay, if you’re sure.’

Striding down the drive, Harry spoke with the burly driver. ‘You can take it away now,’ he instructed. ‘Oh, and you won’t forget, will you,’ he pointed to a large tea-chest marked Personal, ‘that that one does not go in the sale. It goes into storage.’

The driver perused his clipboard. ‘I’ve got it all written down, sir. Don’t worry, everything will be taken care of.’

‘And you’ve got the forwarding address for the documents and such?’

The driver tapped his clipboard. ‘Like I say, it’s all written down here.’

‘Good.’ Taking his wallet from his back pocket, Harry slipped the driver two pound notes. ‘Thanks. You and your mate have done a good job.’

The driver stuffed the notes in his pocket. ‘Much appreciated, sir.’

‘You will be careful with it all, won’t you? I mean, try not to damage anything?’ Buried under cardboard boxes, he could see the well-worn armchair that both he and Sara had sat on many times; in particular he recalled the evening when she had perched on his knee in that very chair and told him she was expecting their first – and now only – child.

‘We’ll treat your belongings with respect, sir.’ At the onset of this job, the driver had been acquainted with Harry’s circumstances, causing him to be grateful for his own happy marriage and five healthy children.