February 2021
- Your father is dead, Anna.
Anna stayed silent for a moment, letting the news sink in.
- Anna? asked her mother. Did you hear me?
- Yes, yes, I heard you, Anna finally answered coolly. What…
- Heart attack.
- Oh.
- He collapsed right in the middle of the living-room. I called 999 but apparently there was nothing they could do.
Anna didn't know what to say. She couldn't even say she felt sorry to hear about her father's death, who had made her so miserable until he had plainly abandoned her. As she struggled to find anything to say, her mother went on:
- You don't seem to care much.
The unfairness of that remark unleashed all the fear and anger Anna had been piling up for the whole last year on her unsuspecting mother.
- I don't care much?! I'm sorry, but who are you to talk about caring?! Where were you during the last six years? You don't even know my son's name! Where were you all last year, when you know very well I work in an ICU?! I don't remember you calling to ask how I coped with the pandemic? I don't remember enjoying your support when I almost lost my best friend, who had to be delivered of a premature baby while suffering from a severe Covid! Or right now, for that matter, when I'm worrying myself to death about my own partner, who's currently fighting against Covid in the ICU too! How many times have you asked for news during the last six years? Where were you, ever, in fact, to care for me and Katie and protect us from our father's abuse? So, yeah, I'm sorry if I seem not to care, but see, I've had to do it on my own all that time. Don't you dare lecture me about caring. I care about the people who do care about me!
Silence met her outburst, at the other end of the line, as she panted, trying to regain her composure. At last, her mother said:
- Yes, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that. You're right.
She paused a few seconds and asked:
- Will you come to the funeral?
Anna rubbed her eyes with her fingertips, and sighed:
- I don't know Mum. I'll have to think about it, but I think I probably won't. We're under lockdown anyway.
- It is permitted to travel to attend a funeral.
- Yes. Question is, do I want to. I'm not sure at all.
- Alright. You'll let me know.
- I will.
- Well. This is goodbye then, I think.
- Yes. Goodbye Mum.
- Oh, Anna?
- Yes?
- What is your son's name?
The shadow of a smile crossed Anna's lips, before she answered proudly:
- Timothy. But everybody calls him Timmy.
- It's a very pretty name.
- Thank you Mum. Have a good day.
- Goodbye Anna.
As she hung up, Anna let the phone fall on the table and exhaled deeply. Tears came to her eyes, and suddenly she couldn't stop crying. Not harsh sobs, but rather a silent weeping, as if pain and anger where just spilling out of her. She wept and wept, not so much over her father's death, but over the relationship she wished she could have had with her parents, and never had. Now it was too late, and she would never be able to tell her father all she had kept buried since her childhood.
Right now she needed some emotional support, and she did what she usually did when in need of motherly advice and comfort: she called Elsie Carson, while she finally prepared her tea. Then she settled on her couch with her mug and her earphones plugged into her ears. Anna told Elsie the news of her father's passing, and the two women talked for a long time. Anna felt free to tell all that was burdening her, and she felt she was listened to and not judged. She felt rather better when she finally hung up the phone, and she was very surprised when she saw the time. She had talked to Elsie for more than an hour. After having let out all that was bothering her, exhaustion fell down on her and she lay down on her couch, under John's tartan plaid, and fell asleep breathing his scent. She slept for three hours straight.
x x x x
Later in the afternoon, Anna had gone back to the hospital to spend a little more time with John. She hadn't planned going back that very day at first, but she wanted to tell John about her father, and didn't feel like doing it over the phone or by texts. When she entered his room, he was just finishing a physiotherapy session with Jimmy Kent.
- Oh hi Jimmy, said Anna.
- Hi Anna.
- So, how is the patient doing?
Jimmy frowned at her, looking puzzled:
- Er, isn't Dr Barrow his referring physician?
Anna chuckled.
- Indeed he is. John is my boyfriend.
- Oh… Alright. I wasn't getting what you were doing here, not in your own ICU. Well, yeah, we've had a pretty good session, haven't we Mr Bates?
- I guess… replied John, somewhat doubtfully. If you can call walking around one's room and feeling like an eighty-year-old a "good session".
- Well, you're walking, and that's more than many of the patients in this unit can do. So let's rejoice on that, said Anna. Focus on the little victories.
- That's precisely what I was saying before you arrived, agreed Jimmy. We're going forward and not backward, however small the steps forward are. That's what matters. So, I'll leave you two now.
Jimmy left, and Anna once more sat in the armchair while John settled back into bed.
- I really do feel like I've been running a marathon, he complained. For having walked about twenty steps around the room. Urgh.
- I know. It's frustrating. It'll be hard work, but you'll get better.
- Hey, he said, changing the subject, why did you come back tonight, you were there this morning, I thought you would use your day off to rest and see Timmy maybe?
- Well… In fact, I came back because there was something I needed to tell you, and I wanted to do it in person.
- Oh? Should I be worried?
- No, no… It's just… quite unexpected. See, my mother called me earlier, just when I got home.
- Wow, your mother? Who you hadn't talked to in…
- More than six years, yeah.
- I gather she had something specific to tell?
- Yes, rather. She was calling me to tell me my father's dead. He had a heart attack.
John's surprised face fell:
- Oh, sweetie, I'm sorry. How do you feel?
Anna sighed and paused a moment before answering.
- … Conflicted. You know how he was, I pretty much told you everything… I can't say I'm feeling sad or sorry. I think I didn't feel anything towards him any more. I think the only thing I'll miss is the chance to ever make things right with him. But then it was very unlikely that it would ever have happened, so…
- Yes, I understand.
- But I yelled at my mother…
- Really? Why?
- Well, when she told me, I was speechless for a little while, and she said "you don't seem to care much". So I lost it, and yelled at her for abandoning me and Timmy.
- Jesus, that was a bit like the pot calling the kettle black wasn't it? Accusing you of not caring…
- Exactly. But you know what, I had never said all those things to her, and in the end, it felt liberating. And, she apologized. And asked about Timmy's name.
- Wait, she didn't even know your son's name?!
- She did not. When my father threw me out of the house, he said plainly he didn't want to hear about me again, so I did not send any news. Neither did he or she ask.
They stayed a short while in silence, John stroking Anna's hand with his thumb.
- So, now she wants to know if I'm coming to the funeral, Anna went on.
- Do you want to go?
- Hmpf… I'm thinking rather no. They say a funeral is intended to pay your respects to the passed person. I have no respect for him. So what would be the point? Looking like the prodigal daughter? I'm not interested in that.
- You have to do what feels right for you. Don't mind what other people think.
They kept talking for a while, until the nurse came in for the evening round. When she entered, Anna got up and said:
- Alright, I'll leave for now. Good night love.
- Oh, Anna, before you leave, can I ask you something?
- Of course.
- Would you bring me my guitar and my laptop next time? I'm getting bored out of my mind in here.
Anna chuckled.
- Alright, I will. I'll come tomorrow. I'm not working.
- You don't need to come everyday though you know. You might want to rest at home, spend some time with Timmy.
- Don't worry, I'll do both too, she smiled.
x x x x
The air was chilly when she entered the empty church. Her mother was not there, which surprised Anna. She went down the aisle, walking slowly towards the coffin that rested in front of the altar. There were a few flowers arrangements scattered around it. At the left-hand side from the coffin, a large portrait of the deceased was displayed on a rack. Anna's heart stopped when she saw that it was not her father on the picture, but John. Her throat felt tight, and suddenly she couldn't breathe properly. She muffled a sob by pressing her fist against her mouth. She looked around to the empty pews. If it was really John's funeral, where were everybody? Why were the Carsons, the Crawleys, not there? "Because they all know it's your fault, silly… They don't want you at the funeral. The real funeral, later..."whispered a nasty little voice in her head. She jumped out of her skin when a priest came behind her and touched her arm. He gestured towards the piano and said: "If you want to pay your respect to Mr Bates…". Feeling like a robot, she went to the piano and sat on the stool. She looked up to the priest, and asked: "What?". "You know what", he answered, and suddenly disappeared. Her hands started playing of their own accord a song she had never learnt, and she sang, tears streaming down her face:
"Wish I could, I could've said goodbye
I would've said what I wanted to
Maybe even cried for you
If I knew it would be the last time
I would've broke my heart in two
Trying to save a part of you
Don't wanna feel another touch
Don't wanna start another fire
Don't wanna know another kiss
No other name fallin' off my lips
Don't wanna give my heart away
To another stranger
Or let another day begin
Won't even let the sunlight in
No, I'll never love again
I'll never love again, oh, oh, oh, oh
When we first met
I never thought that I would fall
I never thought that I'd find myself
Lying in your arms, mm, mm
And I wanna pretend that it's not true
Oh, baby, that you're gone"…
Anna woke up suddenly, drenched in sweat, her face wet with real tears, gasping for air as if she had been under water for too long. Her heart was hammering like a mad clock in her chest, and she felt she was going to throw up at any time. She sat up straight in her bed, shaking herself in a desperate attempt to make those awful images go away. It took her several minutes focusing on her breath to bring her heart rate back to a somewhat normal rhythm, and to start shaking a little less. She grabbed her phone, saw that it was four o'clock in the morning, and tried sending a Whatsapp message to John.
"Are you OK love?"
Unfortunately, John was likely asleep, because no answer came back. The rational part of her brain tried to reason the panicked part, that if something had happened, they would have called her. She refrained from calling the night nurse. She would not be one of those relatives, bothering the night staff just to make sure everything was right. Either they were busy and they did not need calls to hinder them, or they were not and they would be enjoying some well-earned moment of rest. In either case, they didn't need to spend their time on a useless phone call. Yet Anna felt she wouldn't be able to overcome her panic attack completely until she had news from John. So she went to the bathroom and took an anxiolytic. She felt she was taking some a bit too often lately, but what was she supposed to do… It was better than turning to alcohol, she thought. She cursed herself for watching that wretched Bradley Cooper movie a couple years ago. She had cried so much at that time, but never had she thought that she would one day feel so vividly close to Ally, the female lead character. After tossing and turning in her bed for about half an hour, she admitted that she was not likely to fall asleep again that night, and got up. There was still no answer from John. If he was sleeping, at least she was grateful for it. After wandering for a while in her apartment, in search of an activity to spend the rest of the night, she finally settled on her couch and turned the telly on. She had approached her piano, but it had made her skin crawl as the memories of her nightmare were much too fresh and painful. With a mug of tea, she wrapped herself in John's plaid, and decided to rewatch some Outlander episodes. It reminded her of the start of their relationship. At half past five, a Whatsapp notification beeped.
"Hey sweetie, having insomnia again? I was asleep for once."
She smiled and slowly breathed out.
"I had an awful nightmare… I'll tell you tomorrow. I'm alright now. Go back to sleep if you can. I love you."
"I love you too Anna."
She wiped the tears that had spilt again on her cheeks, out of relief this time, put the phone down, and shifted herself to a lying position on the couch to watch the end of the show. Less than a minute later, she was asleep, slightly snoring while the show went on on the telly.
So, as of today, this fic is officially my longest story ever, as it is now longer than Damaged. And we're not close to the end ;)
I hope you continue to enjoy reading it as I enjoy writing it.