Just one darn thing after another!

It was Chas – again!
‘Chas!’ I said. ‘Chas – this isn’t the best time to talk! I’m really sorry.’
‘That’s what you said earlier,’ said Chas, ‘so I’ve waited and waited and I don’t want to wait any longer.’
I sighed. ‘Is it a matter of life and death?’ I said, ‘Because if it isn’t, please can you tell me tomorrow? I’m so stressed out. Have you heard about Greg?’
‘What about Greg?’ There was a note of impatience in Chas’s voice that told me that he hadn’t.
I gulped. Suddenly it was really hard to speak. What do you say? He might be dying? He’s in great danger? They think he may not live? I wasn’t sure I could say any of those. Hearing the words would make it so real. I knew it was real – of course I did. But I didn’t want to hear myself talking about it. That was too much.
‘Kate?’ I still couldn’t speak. ‘Kate? Are you still there?’
I nodded, choked. I wanted Chas there beside me, holding me in his arms. However it was between us, he was still the best friend I had – he was still the person I turned to whenever I had a problem. Tears trickled down my face.
‘Chas,’ I managed to say, my voice all wobbly and reedy. ‘Chas, please will you come over? I need you.’
Chas’s voice softened. ‘I need you too, Kate,’ he said. ‘I’ll check with Mum, OK?’
‘OK,’ I whispered and put the phone down.
I blew my nose then went to the loo and washed my face. I made a good job of it, listening while Mum insisted it was time for Suzie to go home and for Ben to go and do something useful like homework. Much as I love them all, I just needed a bit of space. I hoped Mum was going to be OK about Chas coming over.
Thankfully, she was. ‘Kate, do whatever is going to help you feel better,’ she said. ‘I trust you to be sensible. Now, if you don’t mind, I’m going to tackle the ironing and watch a trashy DVD – I need something to take my mind off things too!’
I smiled. ‘Bet it’s ‘Dirty Dancing’,’ I said.
‘With gorgeous Patrick Swayze dying of cancer?’ she said. ‘No way. I need to be cheered up. If I watched that, I’d be slitting my wrists – and don’t mention ‘A Knight’s Tale’ either, OK?’
I knew it would take Chas about half an hour to cycle over so I went and had a baking hot shower. My head had begun to ache with all the stress and bottled up tears. It was bliss to let the steaming water pound down on my head and cry and cry without anyone able to hear or notice. I was left with that lovely, dozy relaxed feeling you get after a good sob and, to be honest, I’d probably have been fine to snuggle down in my PJs and go to sleep. But there was clearly something Chas had to talk about so I wrapped myself up very respectably in my bath robe and went downstairs just in time to get the door when Chas knocked quietly. I took him into the kitchen seeing as Mum was in the sitting room.
‘Want a drink?’ I said.
He nodded, a pre-occupied look on his face. He didn’t sit down – he paced.
‘Want to tell me about it?’ I asked.
‘Yeh – yeh, I do,’ he said. ‘But the trouble is, I’m not sure I should.’
I raised my eyebrows. ‘It’s a secret?’ I said.
‘Yes – well, yes it is – but it may not be for long – and, oh Kate, I don’t know what to do – it’s too big a thing.’
My mind was boggling, I can tell you. What on earth could it be? The thing that sprang immediately to mind just didn’t seem possible.
‘Can I hug you?’ said Chas, suddenly.
For reply, I just held out my arms. I so needed someone to hold onto after the evening I’d had and Chas looked like he felt exactly the same. I snuggled in close.
‘If it’s someone else’s secret, you’d better not tell me,’ I said.
I felt Chas tense up. ‘I know,’ he said, ‘but I really need someone’s advice.’
‘My mum?’ I suggested. ‘She’s used to keeping people’s secrets.’
Chas shook his head. ‘I couldn’t,’ he said. ‘She might feel she had to tell this person’s parents.’
‘It’s not that they’ve done something illegal, is it?’ I said.
Chas didn’t speak for a moment. ‘We..ell,’ he said slowly. ‘Well, yes, actually – well, in a way. Or at least someone has, anyway – but not my friend. Not really.’
Are you putting two and two together? I was – but I didn’t want to say anything in case I was being completely over the top.
‘I’m sorry,’ said Chas. ‘You can do without me dithering like this after the night you’ve had.’
‘Too right,’ I said, into his chest. ‘But I don’t actually mind right now; it’s so nice to be hugged.’ I smiled up at him.
‘Oh Kate,’ he said. ‘Now I want to kiss you. But I guess that’s not a very good idea.’
I shook my head. ‘No,’ I said. ‘Not tonight. I can’t cope with getting confused about you right now!’
‘Maybe I should stop hugging you,’ said Chas.
‘Maybe you should just tell me what’s on your mind!’ I said. ‘You don’t have to say who it’s about.’
Chas’s face lightened. ‘That’s a point,’ he said. ‘OK, I’ll try that.’
‘I’ll make some tea,’ I said. I let go of him reluctantly. Now don’t get me wrong – it wasn’t like I wanted get together with Chas all over again. But you must know how comforting it is to be hugged by someone who cares about you when you’re feeling really rubbish. People should hug more. The British are far too hung up about it.
A few minutes later, we were sitting facing each other at the kitchen table.
‘Go on then,’ I said. ‘Spit it out.’
Chas sighed deeply. ‘It’s one of my friends on Facebook,’ he said. ‘She’s got pregnant.’
I gasped. It was what I’d been expecting – and yet not expecting. It fitted what he’d said – but I just couldn’t imagine it really happening to someone I might know.
‘Is she under age?’ I asked.
Chas nodded. ‘She wants to know what I think she should do. She hasn’t told her parents yet – she’s in a complete flap to be honest. She doesn’t know whether to have an abortion or to keep the baby, she doesn’t know who to tell – her boyfriend, her parents, her other friends. She’s really embarrassed – which is why she was chatting to me rather than asking her girlfriends. She feels like a complete idiot – and she’s scared stiff of what her parents will say.’
‘And you don’t know what she should do either?’
‘No – of course I don’t! If it all comes out, her boyfriend could be prosecuted – because he’s over sixteen and she isn’t – so she’s dead worried about that.’
‘Is she still with him?’
‘Yes – but that doesn’t mean she wants to be with him for life – or even get him involved with the baby – if she keeps it.’
Crikey! It was so hard to know what to say! There was so much to think about! I could quite see why Chas had no idea what to advise. And I felt quite cross with this girl for burdening him with it. I mean, it’s not exactly the sort of thing a sixteen year old boy feels very qualified to advise about – even if some of them darn well should, given the way they behave.
‘Look,’ I said. ‘Let’s be organised about this – let’s make a list of the different options she’s got. Then maybe it’ll become clear what you should say.’
Chas nodded. ‘Obvious really,’ he said. ‘Why didn’t I think of that?’
‘Because you’re stressed,’ I said. ‘Now come on – first off has to be she tells her mum…’

A Matter of Life and Death

Fortunately, Mum had finished feeding Hayley and Rebekah and they were snuggling down in their cots. She put a finger to her lips as I came in. For reply, I beckoned urgently. She nodded and I knew she would come through shortly. I told Isabelle Mum would be with her shortly, then ran downstairs.
To my relief, Ben and Suzie were back in the land of the sane and capable, had made five mugs of tea and had dug out (inevitably, seeing as Ben was involved!) a packet of chocolate biscuits.
‘Oh thank you,’ I said, grabbing the biggest mug. ‘I so need a cup of tea!’
I was thinking I’d leave Mum to it for a few minutes and slurp my tea in peace – Ben could take some up for her and Isabelle – but at that moment, the phone rang.
‘Oh no,’ I said. ‘It’ll be Chas. I told him to ring back later – but I meant much later, not now. Can you put him off for a bit, please, Ben?’
Ben pulled a face but went out into the hall.
I didn’t register that he was gone for quite a while – I was busy explaining to Suzie about Isabelle between gulps of tea and mouthfuls of biscuit. It was a shock when Ben returned a few minutes later and sat down heavily at the kitchen table looking ill and pale.
‘Ben – what is it?’ said Suzie. ‘You look dreadful!’
‘That was Greg’s mum,’ he said. ‘They’re still not sure whether he really has got meningitis or whether it’s just extreme symptoms of the other thing he’s got…’
‘Weill’s disease?’ I said.
‘Yes – that,’ said Ben, ‘but he’s really, really poorly – like, they think he might die - and she rang to ask Mum to pray for him – with her being a vicar.’
It was a good job I’d drunk all my tea because I dropped my mug. I just kind of forgot I was holding it and it slipped out of my hand.
‘But she’s busy with Isabelle…’ I said, vaguely. I couldn’t think straight. I felt as if little explosions were happening in my brain.
‘She’ll want to know though,’ said Suzie.
I sat down at the table. Suddenly my legs were shaking and I felt light-headed. ‘I can’t cope,’ I said. ‘I don’t know what to do.’
‘I’ll go and tell her,’ said Suzie. ‘You stay here. And Kate – drink my tea. Put some sugar in it.’
Ben and I sat in silence. I had my head in my hands. I have never felt so wretched in my entire life, not even when Mum fractured her skull, not even when Gran died. I didn’t want to cry – I just felt completely drained. My wrist was throbbing in time with my heart beat which seemed to be all I could hear. Suzie and Ben, Isabelle and now Greg. It was too much. And there was still Chas wanting to tell me something urgent.
Mum walked into the kitchen, followed by Suzie.
‘Right,’ she said. ‘Now stop looking quite so washed out, you two. Greg needs our prayers and you need to help. He’s not dead yet, OK?’
‘What about Isabelle?’ I asked, faintly.
‘She’s getting herself ready for bed,’ said Mum. ‘She’s gone very drowsy, just like it said on the Internet, so I’ve told her to get a good night’s sleep and we’ll talk about it in the morning. Poor kid – she’s devastated. She was trying to prove she can manage to be independent, despite her illness. This is the last thing she needed to happen – but we can talk about it later. I’ve told her not to worry, no one’s going to throw her out – or at least, certainly not until we’ve seen a doctor and discussed things – so I think she’ll be OK for now. Greg, however, is a different matter. Let’s go into the sitting room.’
Ben and I exchanged glances. We both do some praying, don’t get me wrong – but neither of us is good at the sort where you do it out loud in front of other people. Suzie’s great at it – they seem to do it in her family all the time – and for Mum it’s like falling off a log – but Ben and I? Well, we’d rather have our teeth pulled with no anaesthetic actually.
But there are moments when you’ve just got to do what you’ve got to do. There was nothing we could do for Greg except pray. His life was in the hands of the doctors and of God. We couldn’t talk to the doctors and if we could, we wouldn’t know what to say – but we could talk to God. Well – it was worth a try anyway. That’s what I always think about prayer when people are saying that you don’t know there’s a God - so how do you know it’s worth bothering to pray? Well, you don’t – of course you don’t! No one knows if there’s a God or not so no one knows if it’s worth bothering to pray. But it costs nothing except your time and it just might help – so I always reckon it’s worth a go – just in case!
It was still hard though. We all sat down in the sitting room. Rover followed us in and I was jolly glad he did. He came and sat by me and laid his big, heavy black head on my lap so that I could stroke his silky ears. You have no idea how comforting that was.
Mum said not to worry if we didn’t want to pray out loud – we could just do it quietly if we wanted – but I just felt it was important to say what I wanted to say. I knew that if I didn’t, my thoughts would spin round in my head in a meaningless jumble. I needed to get them out in the open. So I waited till Mum and Suzie had prayed and then I launched in.
‘Dear God,’ I said. ‘I know I haven’t always been nice to Greg and I’m sorry. I know I’ve messed him around a bit and I’m sorry about that too. You maybe think I don’t care much about him – but I do, God, I do. Please don’t let him die. I will feel dreadful if he dies and I haven’t made things up properly with him. There’s been no real chance to talk to him since the accident – not properly anyway. I know that’s a really selfish thing to pray and of course there are far more important reasons for him not to die – but I want you to know how I feel, God, OK? So please don’t let him die! Amen.’
I was bright red in the face by the time I’d finished. I couldn’t quite believe I’d said all that in front of the others. But I did. I really did. Ben stayed quiet but the others prayed far more respectable prayers and made sure to pray for Greg’s parents too. Suzie even prayed for the dogs because she thought maybe they would be missing Greg whilst he was in hospital. Mum finished with a nice, rounding off sort of prayer and we all sat back in our seats and felt exhausted.
‘Right,‘ said Mum. ‘I think maybe I should give Greg’s mum a ring,’ she said.
But at that very moment, our phone began to ring for the third time in less than an hour.

Non, non, non!

‘I’ll go, Ben,’ I said. ‘You stay here, don’t worry!’
Despite the look on Mum’s face I couldn’t wait to get out of the sitting room and leave Ben and Suzie to sort things out.
‘What is it?’ I demanded.
‘Just come and help me,’ Mum implored. ‘Quick – upstairs!’
I raced up the stairs after Mum and into the twins’ bedroom. They were both standing up in their cots bouncing up and down and jabbering happily enough, considering it was their bedtime. Nothing wrong with them then – no, it was our new au pair, Isabelle, who was in trouble. She lay on the floor, thrashing about in a most alarming way, her limbs clenching at odd angles, her head flailing. It was really quite frightening to watch.
‘Heck – is she having a fit?’ I asked.
‘Looks like it,’ said Mum. ‘Looks like epilepsy to me – but I’m not sure. There was nothing on what she sent us about her being epileptic. Anyway, I shouldn’t leave her – I didn’t want to come down but I couldn’t make you hear. Can you go and check the Internet – see if you can find out what we should do.’
‘I know you’re supposed to clear everything away so they’ve space,’ I said. ‘And you don’t try to hold their mouths open or anything.’
‘Yes, yes, I know,’ said Mum. ‘And I made a space - but I think she should probably see a doctor – I don’t know if this is a new thing or whether she’s used to it happening. Just go and check, love – can you manage with your hand like that? I wish Ben had come – get him if you can’t do it.’
I didn’t bother trying to explain to Mum that this wasn’t the best moment for Ben – I just hurried to see what I could find out. I was pretty sure all we had to do was wait until the fit was over, then keep the patient warm in the recovery position – and take it from there – but it was difficult because we knew nothing about how Isabelle normally was.
It was surprisingly hard to find out what I needed to know on the Internet. There was endless background information about epilepsy – but what to do when someone was actually having a fit was more difficult. By the time I got back, Mum had got Isabelle into the recovery position and had put a duvet over her.
‘Well?’ she said.
‘You’re doing the right thing,’ I said. ‘Apparently she might be drowsy when she comes round properly or she might be perfectly normal.’
‘I though that was what might happen,’ said Mum. ‘Look, could you stay with her, love? Your dad’s got a late night at the salon so he won’t be back for a while and I need to get the girls fed and into bed.’
‘Fine,’ I said though actually I felt quite anxious about it – and in dire need of a cup of tea after all that stress downstairs! But I knew I’d have to wait for that. Mum scooped up Rebekah and then Hayley and staggered through into her bedroom – they’re getting rather large to carry both at once!
I sat down on the floor beside Isabelle – what an awful thing to happen when you’d just moved in with a family of complete strangers in a foreign country. I felt really sorry for her. I wondered what Mum was going to do about it. I mean, was Isabelle safe to be left with the babies? If she was prone to having fits, that could be very dangerous. I wondered what mothers who had epilepsy did about it.
Just then, the phone downstairs went. Darn – would Ben and Suzie be able to tear themselves out of each others’ arms for long enough to answer it? I went to the door, my eyes still fixed on Isabelle.
‘Ben!’ I yelled. ‘Answer it – I can’t come down!’
I heard reluctant movement from the sitting room – you know how you can tell it’s reluctant – slow steps and moany voices. I sat back down next to Isabelle. Her eyelids fluttered. Perhaps she was beginning to come round.
Ben yelled up the stairs.
‘It’s Chas, Kate. He wants to talk to you.’
‘Tell him I can’t come down – tell him he’ll have to ring my mobile.’
‘What’s going on?’ Ben asked.
I explained as fast as I could.
‘Crikey,’ said Ben. ‘What’s Mum going to do?’
Honestly – little brothers! Ten minutes ago he’d been all maturity and good sense. Right now he was being thick as a brick.
‘How should I know, Ben?’ I demanded. ‘How would Mum know yet? It’s only just happened! Now go and be useful and make us all a cup of tea. I haven’t recovered from you and Susie doing your big kiss and make up scene yet and now I’m doing hospital drama up here!’
I settled down again. I wasn’t sure I wanted to talk to Chas just then – I felt drained after the scene with Ben and Suzie and felt Isabelle needed to come round to peace and quiet – so I wasn’t at my best when I answered my mobile.
‘Kate, hi – I need to talk to you,’ said Chas.
‘What about?’ I said, keeping my voice really low. ‘This isn’t exactly a good time.’
‘Why not?’
Honestly! Hadn’t Ben told him? No, I suppose he was still too absorbed in all that had happened with Suzie to be bothered with the little matter of our epileptic au pair!
Briefly, very briefly, I explained. ‘So I don’t want to talk now because she might come round any moment and I think things should be quiet for her,’ I added.
‘Well, can you call later? When she’s sorted out?’ There was an impatience in Chas’s voice that I took exception too. I was tired and crabby. It felt like it had been a very long evening already – and my wrist was really beginning to hurt – it does that in the evenings at the moment – in fact it’s hurting right now while I’m writing this.
‘Oh, can’t it wait, whatever it is?’ I demanded. ‘Oh, in fact, it’ll have to – Isabelle’s coming round. Bye – see you soon.’
I put my phone down and turned to Isabelle who was slowly beginning to push back the duvet and sit up. She looked very puzzled.
‘Did I …did I….?’ She was clearly struggling to find an English word.
I nodded. ‘Yes,’ I said. ‘You had a fit. Perhaps you are epileptic?’
For reply, Isabelle burst into tears. ‘Non, non, non,’ she wailed, so loudly that I shushed her quite fiercely – I was worried about Rebekah and Hayley being disturbed.
‘It’s all right,’ I said. ‘You’re all right now. Mum will need to talk to you about it though.’
At that Isabelle began to wail terribly. 'Non, non, non!' she kept repeating. 'Non, non, non!'
I waited for a minute or two but Isabelle seemed to be getting more agitated rather than less. There was no help for it. I went to get Mum.