The Goodbye Gift Page 2
‘Phoebe? Are you going now?’
‘Yes, Nan, I’ll see you later.’
There was the creak of the drawing room door and when Phoebe turned towards the noise, her nan was already in the hallway. Eighty-six-year-old Theresa wasn’t exactly nimble and if Phoebe didn’t know better, she had been lurking. The two shared a house that Phoebe had lived in for most of her life but there was never any doubt that this was her grandmother’s domain. Theresa had been left well provided for by her late husband and the family home had been carefully maintained and extensively improved over the years. The triple glazing and heating system provided a tropical paradise in the midst of winter and was currently making beads of sweat form on the back of Phoebe’s neck.
‘Is it the Elephant tonight?’
‘Yes, I told you,’ Phoebe answered patiently, suspecting the question was a test rather than a symptom of her nan’s failing memory.
‘Hmm. And what time did you say you’d be back?’
‘Not late and I’ve written down where I am on your reminder board in the kitchen just in case,’ she said. ‘Is there anything you need before I go?’
Theresa sighed. ‘No, I’ll be fine. You go off and enjoy yourself,’ she said and before Phoebe could assure her that she would, her nan added, ‘But don’t drink too much.’
‘I won’t.’
‘You say that, but you have no self-control.’
Phoebe immediately proved her wrong by swallowing her annoyance and forcing a smile to her lips. ‘Stop worrying,’ she said. ‘Can I go now, Nan?’
There was the sound of someone tapping on glass and Phoebe turned to find Julia’s bright, cheery face peering beneath her umbrella. Her friend wouldn’t think to open the porch door without invitation and such invitations were rare. While Phoebe would happily open up her home to her friends, it wasn’t in her gift.
‘I thought you said you were going out with Helen too?’
Theresa had crept close enough to spy Julia over Phoebe’s shoulder.
‘She’s meeting us there.’
‘Us?’
‘Me and Julia.’ Phoebe kissed her nan dutifully on the cheek. ‘I’ll see you later.’
‘Hello, Mrs Dodd,’ Julia called when Phoebe opened the porch door and stepped outside. ‘I hope you’re well.’
Theresa had a tight grip on the front door and was eyeing Phoebe’s friend with suspicion. ‘Don’t keep her out late,’ she said by way of an answer.
‘I won’t,’ Julia replied even as Phoebe pulled her away.
The scene was reminiscent of Phoebe’s childhood. She and her mum had lived with her grandparents until she was nine and both mother and daughter had suffered under Theresa’s iron rule. Twenty years on, she still felt a certain giddiness whenever Julia helped her escape her grandmother’s clutches. Back then, Julia had technically been Helen’s babysitter, but Phoebe had stayed over at her friend’s so often that Julia had been obliged to look after them both and she still did.
‘I can’t stay out long either,’ Julia said after they had jumped into her car and escaped the large double-fronted house with its thick sandstone wall that imprisoned a carefully manicured garden.
Giving her the kind of look her nan would be proud of, Phoebe said, ‘You’re just saying that to make me feel better, aren’t you?’
Even in the dim light Julia looked stunning, effortlessly so, with flawless skin that meant few people noticed the age difference between the friends. Her sense of style was timeless too, and tonight she had opted for jeans and a linen top beneath a woollen jacket. By contrast, Phoebe would describe herself as the short dumpy one, a perception that was reinforced, in Phoebe’s mind at least, whenever she was in the company of her tall and leggy friends. To deflect her obvious failings, or perhaps to exaggerate them, Phoebe went for a more distinctive look. She might have outgrown her penchant for body piercing in her early teens, but she still liked to experiment with hair colour, or at least as much as her employer would allow. At the moment her short hair was a flaming shade between crimson and orange.
‘I’m not, honestly,’ Julia said, trying a little too hard to sound genuine. ‘I’ve got a lot of work on at the moment and one of the reasons I wanted to bring the car was so I didn’t drink.’
‘Sounds like business is booming.’
‘I have a new order and, oh, Phoebe, I can’t tell you the last time a commission fired me up like this,’ Julia began and went on to describe how desperate she was to impress her new client and his wife who she hoped would show off the piece to her friends and secure new orders. She made a steady income resizing rings and replacing missing gemstones to cover the rent of her workshop but this was the sort of work that gave her butterflies. She had until next week to come up with a selection of designs and her head was buzzing with ideas.
As Phoebe listened on, she tried hard to absorb her friend’s enthusiasm but it didn’t come easily. It had been Julia’s love of art that had nurtured a similar passion within Phoebe, having set her two charges little art projects just to keep them out of trouble. Phoebe’s dream had been to go into fashion design, but unlike Julia, an artistic career was nothing more than wishful thinking and the closest she came these days to designer labels were the ones she sold as a sales assistant in Debenhams.
‘I’m so jealous,’ she said, knowing she could speak her mind.
‘I know, Phoebes, but your time will come.’
Although Phoebe knew any realistic opportunity had already passed her by, she was tempted to imagine she still had time, until Julia’s next comment served up a dose of reality.
‘Your nan looks well. How’s she doing?’
‘She went out shopping at lunchtime and left the grill on. It’s a wonder she didn’t burn the house down. Everything stinks of smoke now.’ She wafted her coat sleeve in front of Julia’s face.
‘I did wonder about the smell.’
‘I’ve unplugged everything in the kitchen just in case she decides to make some supper for herself,’ she said, which explained her need to return home at a reasonable hour.
‘Do you have any idea why Helen’s called the meeting?’ asked Julia.
‘No. I take it you haven’t either.’
‘Well, we’ll soon find out,’ Julia said.
They were approaching the Elephant, which was on the corner of a row of shops and restaurants that ran the length of the main road through Woolton Village. From a cursory glance, the quaint village with its pretty churches and old-style cinema could be a rural outpost rather than a suburb less than ten miles from Liverpool city centre. Parking was at a premium but Julia spied an empty space in the tiny sunken car park that occupied the site of the old duck pond and was partly obscured by trees and a steep dip in the road. She made a sharp left turn without indicating and then had to swerve out of the path of a couple of pedestrians in her eagerness to grab the space before anyone else.
‘Ready?’ she asked as she brought the VW Beetle to a screeching halt, making them both lunge forward.
‘I think I’d feel safer with my nan at the wheel!’
‘She’s not still driving, is she?’ Julia asked as she rummaged on the floor to retrieve her umbrella.
‘She would if she had her way but I’ve started hiding the keys and the car’s been left languishing on the drive since before her knee op. I wish I’d got around to learning to drive,’ Phoebe added, voicing another regret.
‘I’ll teach you if you like.’
Phoebe’s look of horror wasn’t feigned, but she tried to let her friend down gently. ‘I wouldn’t want to put you to any trouble and besides, I’d rather have proper lessons than learn your bad habits,’ she said, jumping out of the car before Julia could retaliate.
‘If you’re sure,’ Julia said when she rejoined her, holding out her umbrella so they could both take shelter beneath it.
Phoebe refused this offer too. ‘The rain might wash off the smell of smoke,’ she said, already on the move.
&nbs
p; They hurried across the road and into the pub where the third member of their group was waiting.
Helen Butler was standing at the bar with a half-empty glass of white wine in her hand. When she spied Phoebe at the entrance, she turned her back deliberately on the bloke who had spent the last ten minutes trying to chat her up, and waved at her friend who was busy scrunching up her flattened hair to give it some volume. Julia wasn’t far behind but remained at the doorway determined to shake her umbrella dry. Helen surreptitiously picked up her own umbrella, leaving a large puddle on the floor where she had thoughtlessly dumped it earlier. Shaking it, she splashed her uninvited suitor who was forced to take a step back, allowing room for Phoebe to squeeze in next to her.
After giving her friend a hug, Helen handed her the glass of wine she had already ordered before saying, ‘You stink by the way.’
Phoebe laughed as she slipped off her coat. ‘Long story.’
Although they were the same age, Helen was often surprised at how different their tastes in fashion were. The skater dress and Doc Martens combo that Phoebe had chosen gave her a grungy look that was meant to frighten men off but actually made her look dangerously attractive. Helen, on the other hand, didn’t really have a style of her own. Her youth had been cut short by unplanned motherhood and she rarely found time to think through her fashion choices. She had grabbed a lace dress from the laundry pile because it was the only decent outfit she had to hand that didn’t need ironing, and had paired it with footless tights and platform shoes. As the mother of an eleven-year-old, she felt a bit of a fraud dressing so young and when she saw Julia’s outfit, she wished she had gone for jeans too. They had similar body frames, but where Julia was more catwalk skinny with sleek auburn hair, Helen had softer curves and blonde curls and she knew she could never emulate Julia’s air of sophistication, no matter how hard she tried.
After releasing Julia from the requisite hug, Helen said, ‘I haven’t ordered your drink yet, but I take it you don’t want wine?’
‘No, orange juice for me, please, with a splash of soda because I like living dangerously.’
Helen had also been offered a lift to the pub, but she had preferred to get there under her own steam. She was a nurse in a cardiology clinic and routinely worked beyond her shift, after which there followed various domestic duties which centred round her daughter, Milly. Things rarely went to plan which inevitably meant she would be the last to arrive. Today, however, the urge for that first glass of wine had spurred her on and she was already contemplating her second.
After ordering Julia’s drink and a bottle of wine for the non-drivers, Helen said, ‘I’ve booked a table – we are all eating, aren’t we?’
‘Oh, yes,’ Julia said.
Helen could almost hear her friend salivating. ‘Have we been building up an appetite at the gym by any chance?’
‘We? Since when did you go the gym?’
‘Life is my workout,’ she replied. ‘OK, then, have you been to the gym?’ When Julia nodded primly, she added, ‘You and Paul are such fitness freaks, it’s not healthy,’ but then quickly pursed her lips, regretting the words as soon as they had left her mouth. When Helen spoke again, her usual flippancy had been replaced by the kind of serious tone she normally reserved for work. ‘Still, it could be worse.’
Phoebe and Julia shared a look, each waiting for the other to ask why they had been summoned. When neither of them spoke, Helen was relieved. She wasn’t quite ready to talk yet.
‘Come on, our table’s ready,’ she said.
Two minutes later they were sitting at a table near a window, glasses in hand and a good view of the passers-by being hurried along by a biting November wind and sheets of icy rain – except Helen wasn’t so much looking out of the window as she was peering into the middle distance in search of answers to unfathomable questions.
‘So?’ Julia said softly. ‘We’re listening.’
‘He died,’ Helen said, only then turning away from the window to face her friends.
‘A patient?’ Julia asked, knowing that if it had been a close relative or family friend, she would have already heard. Helen and Julia’s mums were also best friends and their lives had combined to make one extended family. Even though Julia’s mum had retired to Spain, it wouldn’t have stopped the news from being relayed through the family network by now.
‘Craig Winchester was thirty-one years old, a married father of two with another on the way. He was fit and healthy until two years ago when he contracted a virus that left his heart weakened. Surgery did the trick for a while, but things took a turn for the worse …’
‘My God, he was younger than me or Paul,’ Julia said.
‘And not much older than us,’ added Phoebe. ‘It doesn’t bear thinking about.’
‘That’s why it got to me, or at least part of the reason why. I’m thirty next year and I still don’t feel like my life’s got going properly – excepting the odd false start,’ Helen said, referring to the failed marriage already under her belt. Her daughter Milly was the product of an intense teenage romance that had led to a relatively short-lived marriage. John and Helen had stayed together just long enough for her to complete her nursing training before she was thrown into single parenthood.
‘And you’re not the only one,’ added Julia.
Helen wrinkled her nose at Julia to let her know she understood what she meant, and for a moment neither of them realized Phoebe was waiting to be noticed. When they did look at her, she said, ‘Some of us haven’t even made it to the starting line yet.’
Helen gave her a smile that she hadn’t thought she had in her. However frustrated she felt now and again at having her wings clipped too early in life, she was blessed in comparison to the friend she had known since nursery school. It was there that they had formed a formidable friendship, dreaded by their teachers and envied by their classmates, and it had been strong enough to survive a lengthy break. Phoebe’s mum had run off with her daughter to Manchester when Phoebe was nine and when they had met up again in their teens, the intervening years had left their mark on both of them. Helen was the not-so-proud mother of a newborn baby while Phoebe was damaged for reasons she would never share. She had been wild and reckless, even by the standards of a teenage mum, and it had taken the determined Theresa Dodd to eventually tame her granddaughter, destroying her free spirit in the process.
‘And his wife was pregnant?’ Julia asked as the finer details of the stranger’s life came into clear focus in her mind.
Helen took a long sip of wine that practically drained the glass. ‘Yes, and she was convinced we would be able to save him, especially after he was put on the list for a heart transplant. Craig, on the other hand, took a lot of persuading that he should be considered at all. He was such a lovely person,’ she said of the man who had made a lasting impression on her. ‘Although I’m sure he thought coming to clinic was a bit like stepping into the confessional. Every time I saw him he’d tell me about some past misdemeanour or other as if to prove how unworthy he was of being a recipient. He told me about pinching his dad’s cigarettes when he was a teenager, and how he got so drunk at a wedding that he and his brother did their very own version of The Full Monty.’ Helen tried to laugh but it was as much as she could manage to staunch her tears. ‘I would have liked to have seen that because he looked a bit like Robbie Williams.’
‘Your one true love,’ Julia said, referring to Helen’s teenage obsession.
‘Except, dare I say it, Craig was even lovelier. He argued against getting bumped up the list in case he took the place of someone who, in his opinion, might be more deserving. Even in the last month when he was told it might only be a matter of weeks …’
‘What that family must have gone through. What his wife will be going through …’ Julia said, shaking her head as her words trailed off.
‘She was going to be induced on Thursday,’ Helen said, then had to swallow hard before adding, ‘Just so he could hold the baby.’
‘You could always leave the car and pick it up tomorrow,’ Helen said. ‘Or phone Paul. Couldn’t he jog over and drive you home tonight?’ She knew Paul well and the suggestion was a reasonable one.
‘I shouldn’t,’ Julia said.
Helen knew there was more to Julia’s decision not to drink than simply the car, so she didn’t push. As it turned out she didn’t have to because within moments, Julia had sent and received a reply from Paul.
‘I do love that man,’ she said, grabbing an empty glass from the next table. ‘He’ll pick us all up whenever we’re ready to leave.
Phoebe poured the wine. ‘You don’t know how lucky you are.’
‘Oh, yes, I do,’ Julia said, took a sip of wine and then added, ‘OK, maybe I do take Paul for granted sometimes.’
‘We all take our health for granted,’ Helen piped up. She spied the waiter coming over and scanned the menu that she already knew off by heart. ‘Maybe I should order a salad.’
‘What can I get you, ladies?’ he asked.
‘More wine, please,’ Helen said without hesitation and then turned to square up to her friends. ‘I said we take our health for granted. I don’t remember saying anything about living like nuns. And because we have Julia setting us a good example with her health regime, we’re probably entitled to some brownie points just by association. Wouldn’t you say so, Phoebes?’
‘I’ll drink to that!’
There were smiles all around and by the time the waiter had taken their order – which didn’t include a single salad leaf – the shadow that had followed Helen from the hospital had begun to recede. But before all thoughts of their fragile mortality could be laid to rest, Julia had an idea. ‘I think I’ll register as an organ donor.’
‘You mean you’re not already?’ Helen said, genuinely shocked. ‘I work in a cardiology unit, for goodness’ sake! We’re the ones struggling to keep alive the patients who don’t get the call from the transplant centre, all because there aren’t enough donor organs to go around. Have you not been listening to a word I’ve said all these years?’