Non Fiction

Dad

‘I love you baby.’ The warm, soft body of his girlfriend enveloped in his arms squeezed his waist back in agreement. Running his fingers along her spine, feeling the beautiful, soft skin covering her muscular back, he remembered all the good times he had had with the same sensation tingling along his fingertips: the nights out, the festivals, the cosy candle-lit meals. His pocket was vibrating … it was his phone. ‘Sorry baby’ as one arm released her to grope in his pocket to see who had such a lack of consideration to break the mood in the room.

‘Hello?’

‘Olly it’s Kath. I can’t do dinner tonight. Sorry.’

‘It’s cool – are you alright?’

‘Yeah. I’ve got to go though.’ And the connection died. Putting the interruption out of his mind he returned to the beauty in front of him. Holding her chest against his, running his hands over her body, he began to undo her clothes, hoping to satisfy the demands of his erection and, he hoped, of her as well, to draw her in to be closer to him than any other single activity could achieve.

The clichéd cigarette was shared by the two hearts feeling as one, and as the smoke from the last drag drifted out from between Marie’s voluptuous lips, he picked up and began to read ‘The Proverbs of Hell’ to her. When he had finished, she turned her deep brown eyes to him and said,

‘That’s beautiful babe.’

‘The guy was a genius, I swear.’

‘And his art. I tried to do something a bit like it the other day.’

‘Can I see it?’ She left the bed and took something from his desk. Turning the paper over, she showed him her art – it was beautiful: the silhouette of a naked woman bending over a pool of fire, her hair obscuring her face. After gazing at it for a long moment, he told her so.

‘You’re amazing. I wish I could draw like that.’

‘Why don’t you?’

‘I can never get the proportions right. It ends up looking like it was done by a six-year old on acid.’

‘Gutted babe.’ She put the art back and, sitting down, began to roll another cigarette.

‘Do you fancy going out for dinner, seeing as Kath isn’t cooking any more?’

She turned to him. ‘I’d love to babe’ she grinned. ‘But only if I can pay.’

‘No chance! It’s my turn.’

‘Well, I’m not going then.’ She recognised her power over him.

‘How’s about we split it?’

‘Hmmmm…’ She’d love to.

‘Wicked! It’s a deal.’ They kissed to seal the bargain. ‘It’s kind of a shame we can’t go to Kath’s though.’

‘Your Dad and Kath always get me so pissed.’

‘You’ve never been in the state me and Dad get in when we’re on a climbing trip. Last time we were in Chamonix he got me so pissed I had a stutter for a week!’

‘Seriously?’

‘Yeah. It was terrible. I think we ruined someone’s honeymoon that night.’

‘What did you do?’ The smoke from the first drag of her cigarette drifted slowly towards the window, and curled out.

‘Apparently we just kept talking to them – I mean, can you imagine going out for a romantic drink and having two paralytic fools talking at you with a stutter for hours?!’

She tried to picture it. ‘I don’t think it would be the best honeymoon!’

‘No. It’s weird though. When me and Dad go out we’re more like mates. I suppose when we go out drinking we push each other a bit too much, but it’s alright ‘cos he insists on paying!’

‘Do you want some of this, babe?’ She offered him the end of the cigarette.

‘Thanks.’ He smoked in silence, contemplating the radiant face in front of him.

As the last of the satisfied smoke drifted out of the window his phone rang again and the tranquillity followed the smoke from Marie’s lips out of the window in a swirling cloud.

‘Hello?’

‘It’s Kath again.’

‘Are you OK? Is it your back ‘cos if you need me to do anything just say.’

‘No I’m fine. I’ve got some bad news though.’

‘What?’ as the words left his mouth his stomached tied itself into knots so tight he couldn’t move.

‘Your dad’s had a stroke. He’s in the Northern General. Where are you?’

‘I’m at Marie’s.’

‘Can you come to the hospital?’

‘Sure. I’m just round the corner. I’ll set off now’

‘OK. Bye.’

‘Bye.’

His hand fell to his side, the phone still cupped in his palm, and he stood there, standing, staring at nothing, his mind frozen in horror by the realisation of just how much his life had changed since yesterday.

‘Hey Olly it’s Dad. Do you fancy coming round for a Sunday dinner at Kath’s tomorrow night with Marie? I’ll make you a nut roast and we’ll have a few drinks.’

‘Yeah? Sounds good. What time?’

‘How’s about 7 ish?’

‘Cool. See you then.’

‘Alright. Bye.’

‘Olly?’ He heard, but couldn’t move. ‘Olly?’

‘Mmm?’

‘You OK?’ Turning to face his girlfriend, watching the walls slowly rotate around him until he focused on the beautiful face clouded with concern his lips moved, working desperately to make a sound.

‘My Dad’s had a stroke.’

A frown cracked her face along her eyebrows. Standing, she grabbed him in her arms and squeezed, bringing him back to the room, melting the freeze that had fallen over his brain. Time began to move again. ‘Oh, sweetheart. It’s going to be alright.’

Looking at her with a horrible realisation piercing her chest he told her ‘no it’s not. I need to go to the Northern General.’ The first salty tear rolled down his face, the first rock in a landslide that was soon to follow.

‘I’ll take you,’ giving herself to his needs.

‘Thanks. I need to call my mum.’ Trying to sniff the sticky sadness back up his nose,

he found the phone, and mechanically dialled her number.

‘Hello?’

‘Mum it’s me.’ She tried to say hello again, but the gladness in her voice was too much and he cut her off. ‘Sit down Mum.’

‘Why?’

‘Just sit down….OK?…..Errrm….Dad’s had a stroke. He’s in the Northern General. Can you tell Maria?’ That would be just too much.

‘Oh Olly. I’m so sorry.’ It was surprising how quickly people started saying stupid things to him.

‘I’m going there now. I’ll ring you later.’ Hopping quickly into his clothes he followed his love into her car and they set off, with her driving.

He walked in through the A&E reception all alone, with no one to touch him or speak to him, introduced himself to the girl behind the glass with the papers and the control, waited to be allowed through. It was a dream; a dream so distant it must have been reflected off a thousand mirrors before it faintly touched his senses.

‘This way please. Kath’s in the relative’s room,’ and a bland-coloured door opened to show Kath sitting there, still just as tall but this time she looked shrunk inside, her face drawn with horror, her eyes further back in her skull, shrunk from crying so hard, the salt stains down her cheeks. She looked up at him and tried to force a smile, managing only to purse her lips. Squeezing his hand, making him sit down, she began to apologise for lying to him and not telling him straight away.

‘Don’t be stupid Kath. It doesn’t matter.’

‘Do you want to see him?’ A nurse put her kind head through the door.

‘Please.’ Rising slowly, he followed the nurse to a bed with someone on it. Peering down at the body, he saw a shadow of his father on the bed, surrounded by rails. A machine was breathing for him through a tube in his throat that raised and lowered the chest, accompanied by a horrible, rasping sound that stopped at the top and bottom of each breath, stopping so definitely it made him wonder if the noise and the breathing would ever start again. The arms lay straight down his sides, hands rested on fingertips so the palms were slightly raised off the white sheet. Gaps of grey hair were missing from the chest where strange wires and patches ran to make alien machines beep and flash. He stood there staring, his mind empty, his mouth open. A nurse came along and peeled back his eyelids, shining a torch in his cold eyes to search for life. There was none. Not even the shining light could conjure up a reflection of a glimmer of life.

He took the hand, heavier then ever before, and the realisation that he had already seen his live father for the last time turned his eyes to storm clouds that rained down on the white sheets and the limp arm for what felt like hours.

Olly Galvin