Chapter Nineteen
September 2016
The dance studio became almost as familiar to Lydia as her home and place of work and she went down there as often as she could. She’d have a lesson every Monday and then do as many free sessions as she had time for, depending on whether the studio had space. The lesson Connor had booked for her had taken her by surprise but she hadn’t resisted at all, and finally she was doing what she’d failed to do since the end of last year: she was living her life the way it should be, the way Theo would want.
Lydia warmed up her body. She put her leg high on the bar and leaned over it, stretching her hamstrings and loosening up her back; she lay on the floor and did hip circles and glute stretches; she rolled up and down from a standing position to warm her spine and she put legs to one side and arms to the other while lying on the floor to twist her spine and get it ready. Today was a lesson and Veronica, the teacher, was the same lady Lydia had seen that first day when she was out of practice and unsure whether her emotions would stay inside her or all tumble out at the most inopportune moment.
Connor had waited outside for her that day. He said he wanted to know what his money had bought him. Would it bring him a Lydia who realised she was crazy to ignore her passion? Or would the session have turned her into an angry woman who wanted to castrate him for being so insensitive? Connor had been relieved to find a very happy Lydia, a woman who’d flung her arms around him so hard he stumbled back and would’ve fallen if the wall behind him hadn’t held him upright.
As she danced today, Lydia was engaged, physically and emotionally. Dancing was great when she was having a good day, something that happened all the more lately, and even when she was having a bad day, it lifted her spirits and helped her work through her emotions. Sometimes she’d have to fight and power through the start of a session but then when the release came, whether it was at the start, five minutes in, or not for almost an hour, eventually it would come and take a hold of her. She’d ached physically after the first session back and walked like she was injured after waking up muscles that hadn’t been engaged in a long while, but before long she was doing moves she’d thought she’d never do again and her body adjusted, giving her fluidity and confidence.
The air was cooler now the first month of autumn was underway but Lydia still walked home after the early morning session in a T-shirt and leggings, swigging from her water bottle. She’d danced before work today, making the most of the mornings while they were still light enough to want to drag yourself out of bed early. She showered and changed and walked the short distance to work, where she spent the rest of the morning with a photographer who had plenty of images ready to pair with her interrailing article.
When her phone rang just after midday, she assumed it was Connor nagging her to get downstairs. He was a stickler for meeting at the exact time they’d agreed and she hadn’t realised it was already four minutes past the hour.
‘Keep your boxers on, Connor. I’ll be down in a second.’ She giggled into the phone, the endorphins from the morning’s dance session still buzzing through her.
‘Lydia?’
Her insides sank. ‘Anita, is that you?’ Anita never called her, not since Theo had lived at the house. And she certainly never called at work.
‘It’s me. Who’s Connor?’
She couldn’t tell whether there was accusation in Anita’s voice or mere curiosity. ‘He’s a friend. I’m meeting him for lunch.’
‘That’s nice.’
Lydia waited for more and when nothing came she said, ‘Is Theo okay?’ What she really meant was, was there any change?
‘The same.’ Anita’s voice remained steady. ‘I’ve just had a call from a private rehabilitation centre I made enquiries with and I wanted to let you know they have a place available for him.’
Goose pimples travelled up Lydia’s arms.
‘They’re moving him within the next week,’ Anita went on, ‘when everything is organised and all the paperwork is done. I wanted to let you know. I didn’t know when you’d next be up here.’
Lydia didn’t miss the accusation this time, the tone of voice gave it away. It’d been almost four weeks since her last visit rather than three and Anita didn’t miss anything. ‘I was hoping to come up on Saturday. I couldn’t make this weekend because I was helping a friend move house.’ Sally and Gerry had moved into their own place rather than the rented flat, and although they’d insisted they didn’t need help, Lydia owed them big-time for how they’d stood by her. She’d even roped in Connor to help and between them they’d finished and were eating a curry by seven o’clock.
Lydia kept her voice upbeat but it summoned all of her willpower. ‘Will he still be in the care home on Saturday?’
‘I can’t guarantee it. Maybe wait until the weekend after, that’d be best. Then he’ll hopefully be at the rehabilitation centre. Do you have a pen and paper and I’ll give you the address?’
Lydia picked up her pen and noted down all the details. ‘I’ll see you a week on Saturday then.’
It was on the tip of her tongue to ask more about Theo: how was he progressing, if at all? Did the experts really think the rehab facility would change anything? And as Lydia left to meet Connor for lunch, she knew one thing for certain. Theo was getting out of the care home where the average age was about seventy-five, and she allowed herself a small smile. Because if Theo was at all aware of what was going on right now, if he could, he’d be punching the air and saying thank goodness I’m out of here.
*
It turned out there had been a mix up at the rehabilitation facility and they wouldn’t be able to take Theo until early December, some three months away. Anita was fuming but Lydia stayed away from all the anger and the angst because none of it would help. It was what it was, yet another situation out of their control, and you either used your energy fighting it or you accepted it and dealt with it the best you could.
Lydia booked a hire car again and drove up that weekend, but this time she was doing the journey in a single day so she’d avoid the accommodation conundrum, but also so she’d be home as soon as possible. Now she was back at dancing she liked nothing more than starting a Sunday with a good session. It made her feel alive, like she was at last doing something right.
When she arrived at the care home, the summer blooms were hanging in there in the gardens out front of the Edwardian house and the staff, some of whom weren’t so bad, were still energetic enough as they welcomed her at the door. She wondered how dreary this place got in winter, whether the staff bothered to put up nice Christmas decorations or whether it was considered too costly an event so they made do with a lopsided fake tree and tacky tinsel that fell down because they hadn’t even cared enough to put it up properly.
Up in Theo’s room Lydia was surprised to find Anita, busy arranging white camellias in a vase on the windowsill and straightening the curtains as if Theo could possibly give a crap. Lydia had been touched at all the little things Anita did at first, showing how much they all cared about Theo, how much they all loved him. But now these things niggled her more than anything. They’d failed him in so many ways and no amount of flowers or tiny touches were going to make it right.
She almost let a giggle escape as Anita perfected the flower arrangement because Theo wouldn’t care even if he was conscious! Lydia had forever been asking him to put his shoes away, hang his suit jackets in the wardrobe rather than drape them across the back of the chair in their bedroom, and they’d laughed at his inability to hang a tea towel up after he’d used it. It wasn’t that he was lazy, it was just that he didn’t deem any of it as particularly important and those were the small idiosyncrasies that made Lydia love him all the more. She’d always said that it was better he was like that than constantly nagging her to do things right. She much preferred to be the bossy one.
‘I thought you’d be in earlier,’ Lydia said to Anita. Translation: I didn’t think I’d have to bump into you.
‘I was but I thought I’d stay and say hello and tell you his progress.’
Lydia froze. ‘There’s been some?’
A huge smile spread across Anita’s face. ‘I was talking to him yesterday and I swear he looked right at me.’
Was that it? Lydia had read all about this. Sometimes the patient seemed as though they were looking at you but really they weren’t. ‘That’s good,’ she said, instead of voicing her opinions.
‘No, I mean I’m sure he really looked at me. But when I went up close to him he didn’t do it again.’
And there it was, what Lydia knew was just hope rather than evidence.
‘You try, Lydia. Talk to him.’ She was almost giddy. ‘Tell him about your day, little things, anything you think he’ll be interested in.’
If Anita got any more excited she’d need a sedative to calm her down. Lydia decided the only thing she could do would be to go with it, so she sat next to Theo’s bed and began to talk about her dancing. She felt sure she was boring him to tears, if he could hear, but she carried on and covered the topics of weather and her job too. She could barely think of much to say at all, and doing it with Anita in the room added a discomfort that wouldn’t allow her to wander off topic.
When Lydia stopped talking, Anita leaned in to smell the flowers she’d arranged so carefully. ‘I didn’t realise you’d stopped dancing,’ she said.
That’s because you never asked. Anita had been to see her dance once, in a performance, and she’d told her she had a real talent. ‘I stopped after the accident.’ She didn’t wait for Anita to ask why. ‘It was hard to go back at first, my body wasn’t used to moving that way, but it’s good now.’
‘Hold his hand while you’re talking,’ Anita prompted when Lydia’s focus returned to Theo. ‘It really helps, I know it does. He’s had enough of listening to me and nurses for now.’ She went on talking about secondary medical conditions Theo was susceptible to: urinary tract infections, pneumonia, pressure ulcers, and how it was important to keep a close eye on him. ‘I’ve been shown by a nurse how to care for him, how to do the PEG feeding.’
‘Don’t the staff here do that?’ Lydia wasn’t really surprised Anita had started to take control. Perhaps it made her feel less helpless.
‘They do but sometimes I like to do it. He’s my son.’ She looked fondly at Theo but then turned back to fuss with the flowers again. ‘Graham will be over to see him next month, and I think it’ll do Theo the world of good to see his dad.’
Lydia wondered whether Anita truly believed some of the things she said or whether she lived in a fantasy world, the only way she knew how to cope with the pain. She put a hand across Theo’s, felt the warmth of the skin she’d touched a thousand times before. She talked more about her dance, how she used more height and spin now she was getting back into it. But Theo spent the time she was there with his eyes firmly shut.
‘He’s sleeping.’ Anita was back beside her. She touched a hand to Lydia’s shoulder. ‘If you come in later or tomorrow he may be awake. Where are you staying?’
Lydia picked up her bag. She’d intended to hang around for a couple of hours but suddenly she couldn’t do it. ‘I’m not. I’m driving back this afternoon. I have to get back, for work.’
‘Oh, that’s a shame. Theo would love to see more of you, I’m sure.’
And before she could stop herself the words flew out. ‘He doesn’t even know I’m here!’
‘You don’t know that!’ Anita never raised her voice but she did this time.
‘He’s in a vegetative state for crying out loud!’
‘Don’t shout at me.’ Deflated, Anita slumped down onto the chair. ‘You can go.’
Lydia looked out of the window at the clouds floating by as if sticking two fingers up at them to say they didn’t have a care in the world, they weren’t stuck in limbo not knowing what was going to happen next. ‘Anita—’
‘Lydia, let yourself off the hook. I’ve got this.’
‘Anita…’ She had to try to make peace. ‘I want to believe he’ll wake up, I really do. But this isn’t a romantic movie.’
‘Goodbye, Lydia.’
And with the last words hovering between them, Lydia left the care home, climbed in the car and drove back to Bath, back to the home she’d once shared with Theo, back to a life that had once been his but was now hers alone.
*
Anita had done her best to exonerate Lydia after that horrid day at the care home, and Lydia felt guilty because being pushed away hadn’t been as heartbreaking as it once might have been. She didn’t know whether time had made her coping mechanisms that much stronger, whether she was losing Theo more with every passing day, or whether she was simply tired of the whole situation.
Lydia did her best to keep abreast of the situation by texting Anita once a week as a minimum, to check in and see if there was any change, any developments, and for now Anita seemed happy to oblige. With Lydia at a distance, not visiting for the time being until things had settled a little, Anita would be Theo’s mother without anyone else interfering, and Lydia knew it was something she couldn’t possibly understand. She could say that she did, but really, she couldn’t, because she wasn’t a mother. Lydia wondered whether pulling apart from Anita now was the natural order of things when you started to pick up the pieces of your own life and start to see clearly.
In early October, as the heavens opened outside and the torrential rain didn’t look like it was ever going to let up, Lydia decided that even the weather was encouraging her to get on with sorting out the house. She cleaned sporadically but the place needed more than that. It didn’t look untidy at first glance but if you looked more closely there were signs it needed attention. The kitchen bits-and-bobs drawer was overflowing with pieces of paper and clutter, the scattering of magazines on the coffee table had turned into a dumping ground for odd bits of post and other paraphernalia, and the box room upstairs was full of papers she and Theo had put there for later, when they knew what to do with them, and like most people, later had never happened.
Lydia spent the morning completely blitzing the downstairs, which wasn’t too bad – they seemed to pile most of the junk above the ground floor where it was more inconspicuous – and then went on to the box room. She sorted out bills, shredded those that were so old they didn’t matter, filed away those that did. There were receipts in amongst papers for inconsequential things like two magazines and a newspaper on one, the receipt from posting a parcel two Christmases ago, another for a pair of flip-flops Lydia bought the first summer she and Theo had moved in together.
With two big black bin liners filled and left by the front door ready to go out, Lydia made a couple of pieces of toast and when she saw Theo’s message again on the blackboard, she knew it was time. Chewing on the last crust, she picked up the cloth tucked on the shelf at the edge of the kitchen and wiped his words away. She shut her eyes, her hand trembled, but it was something she knew she couldn’t avoid forever.
Back upstairs she was into the box room again. It was looking better already but she wanted to empty the wardrobe in there. It was filled with plastic storage boxes containing both of her and Theo’s memories. There were photo albums, old school shirts that had been signed when they were little, Theo’s university notes he refused to throw out. She went through the boxes and spent too long reminiscing and smiling over old snaps taken over the years: a school trip to France, a photo of her at graduation with her parents, her and Theo standing waiting for the ski lift in New Zealand. Having the photos down here had been at her insistence. She’d told Theo if he could have his uni notes then she wanted all her old pictures at hand too. The thought of bickering over the minutiae of life always made her smile.
Lydia shook her head. It was time she utilised the loft up above them. The house had a small courtyard garden which suited them perfectly but it meant there was no shed to dump their paraphernalia in either, so the loft housed an old video recorder they weren’t sure they’d use again, a badminton set they sometimes used in the warmer weather, a fancy windbreak they’d bought a few years back and dug out every summer.
She took out the long pole from the corner of the wardrobe in the spare room, pushed it into the brass loop of the loft hatch, opened the door and then hooked the ladder and gave it a tug so it squeaked its way down to the floor. What she wanted to do was clear the wardrobe in the spare room and put Theo’s clothes in there. The idea ten months ago would’ve been preposterous, too painful to contemplate, but his clothes hanging right next to hers were just another reminder that he wasn’t here anymore, and after weeks of debating whether it was the right thing to do, she’d decided it was.
Once Lydia got up into the loft, it was easy to see which sections were boarded off and tread carefully. There was very little up here and Theo had organised everything neatly, so it didn’t take long to bring up the Tupperware boxes from down below and find a place for them. They were way too heavy to pack and then move, especially when she’d need to negotiate a ladder, so she’d brought up the empty boxes first, then separate bundles of contents, and finally she had everything boxed and stacked neatly in the far corner. There was another box already up there but the lid had been left off, so Lydia picked it up and lay it on top but she couldn’t get it to clip shut. It was so full of papers, probably why it had been left off in the first place.
She took out a wodge of papers from the top. They looked like more of Theo’s university notes, probably hidden up here so she didn’t realise how many he actually had. It was quite sweet really. But when she went to push the papers right on top, down the side of the box so she could actually get the lid on, her eyes zoomed in on an email to Theo, one he’d printed and kept up here for some peculiar reason.
She skimmed through and as she read, she slumped down on the dusty floor. It was a booking for a hotel room, a fancy one at that, costing more than five hundred pounds! Her eyes fixated on the date, because it was October 10th, the day after her birthday, and it wasn’t an old booking, this booking was for this year.
Theo had booked her a surprise. He’d had to rein in his spontaneity after the gambling debacle and they’d been sensible for a long while, but here he was, doing something for her to mark her special day.
And just like that, Lydia’s newfound way of coping, the process of putting her life back together, became a bit like a game of Jenga. A block of wood had just been pulled out and sent it tumbling down around her.
*
‘You’re crazy if you don’t go,’ said Sally when they met the day of Lydia’s birthday. Sally was treating Lydia to a renowned Sally Lunn bun – apparently sharing the same Christian name meant that it would be rude not to go there. ‘I’ve pulled a lot of strings to sort this out for you.’
‘I know you have and I’m so grateful. But it still feels wrong.’ Lydia had done nothing but think about that hotel ever since she’d found the printout of the confirmation. It was a booking for a room with one hell of a view, looking out over London and the River Thames, and it turned out Sally knew someone who worked there. They’d got in touch with the friend, explained the situation and proven who Lydia was in relation to Theo. Lydia had been swept along with Sally’s determination and provided as much evidence as she could, including further printouts from Theo’s email account. Theo was one of those people who wrote down his password for everything. He had a little notebook tucked away in his bedside cabinet and Lydia had never needed to look in it until now. One email had asked if he’d wanted any special arrangements: rose petals to decorate the room, Dom Perignon Champagne, strawberries dipped in chocolate. Of course he’d never replied to any of those requests, because he hadn’t been able to.
‘These are so good.’ Sally bit into the coffee and walnut bun. ‘How’s yours?’
‘It’s good.’ Lydia had chosen cinnamon butter and the only thing hampering the taste was the thought of heading up to London tomorrow to stay in an expensive hotel that Theo had treated her to for her birthday, an occasion they should’ve been sharing. Turning thirty-one was something to celebrate but she’d never thought she’d do it without Theo by her side.
‘Happy birthday,’ said Sally between mouthfuls. ‘It’s a shame we’re both working or I’d treat us to a bottle of champagne.’
‘I know you would.’
When Lydia’s phone rang, she picked it up without checking the caller ID first.
‘Hi, Anita.’ She pulled a face and mouthed the words to tell Sally she’d nip outside to take the call.
‘Happy birthday,’ was the first thing Anita said once Lydia was outside on the cobbled street.
Lydia was surprised she’d remembered and even more surprised she wasn’t still furious after their arguing at Theo’s bedside. ‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘I’m sorry I shouted at you.’
‘All forgotten,’ Anita replied, and somehow Lydia suspected she really meant it. ‘Are you doing anything nice today?’
She explained she was in the city with a friend and Anita gave her the usual update about Theo, still confident he was improving every day, convinced his eyes followed her around the room as she spoke to him. Lydia wondered how much of what Anita saw was because she wanted to believe it and how much was completely real.
‘Any news on when the place for rehab will be available?’ Lydia asked.
‘They still say early December.’ Anita sighed. ‘The care home is better than the hospital, but he seems just a body to them, not a person. I know he can’t give much back but I just wish they’d talk to him more, in case he can hear them. I try to get there as much as I can, but it’s frustrating.’
‘I suppose they’re not experts on brain injury, maybe they don’t really know how to act.’
‘You’re right, and hopefully it won’t be long before he’s in rehab.’ It was a compliment and an acceptance Lydia hadn’t expected.
‘I’ll come and see him again soon.’
‘That would be lovely.’
Lydia wondered whether Anita missed her in some ways. She’d been a huge part of her son’s life and for almost a year now they’d been through this alongside one another. It made her sad to think of how alone Anita must feel. She had no husband or partner, her children were grown up and from what Lydia had seen, she didn’t have a whole lot of close friends. Theo had once said something about two of his mum’s closest friends dying of breast cancer within weeks of each other and Lydia wondered who this woman could turn to now.
When Anita asked her what her plans were for the evening Lydia ended up confiding everything she’d found out about at the weekend.
‘He did that?’ Anita’s voice softened and Lydia could tell there were tears behind it. ‘What a special thing to do.’
‘It really was.’
‘I suppose the booking won’t be valid if he’s not around to confirm it.’ Anita sighed.
‘Well…I’ve spoken with the hotel and they’re satisfied with the explanations and I can take up the booking if I choose.’
‘That’s wonderful!’
Lydia hadn’t expected such a reaction. ‘You sound like my friend, Sally. But I can’t go, it wouldn’t be right without Theo.’
‘It will be strange without Theo but I’d say he’d want you to have it. He may have liked to spend money, but he also hated to waste things. Remember when I had the flu and couldn’t go to see Les Misérables? Remember how you and he took the tickets even though neither of you were that desperate to see the show?’
‘I do remember.’ Lydia smiled, if only at Anita’s phrase about Theo and how he ‘liked to spend money’. Gambling was the term, but his mum glossed over it in the only way she knew how. ‘We ended up enjoying it.’
‘Then please tell me you’ll go. It’s been a tough time for everyone and you deserve this. And I’ll tell Theo all about it when I talk to him, you never know, it could be another memory that could help.’
Lydia had to hand it to the woman for her positivity, but her niceness was still so unusual it was unsettling.
‘Do it for Theo,’ Anita urged.
After she’d hung up Lydia returned inside Sally Lunn’s and told Sally she’d go.
‘Who are you calling?’ Sally asked after she’d finished squealing.
‘My boss. I’m going to need a couple of days off.’
*
The train pulled in to Paddington station and it was only then that Lydia allowed herself to get quite excited. Her emotions over the hour and a half journey had see-sawed from being happy to feeling really sad.
Grace, Sally and Imogen had all been texting that morning with words of encouragement, excitement, even envy at the luxury hotel she was bound for, and as she checked the tube map before heading for her next connection that would take her to the opposite side of the River Thames, she felt the buzz of London seeping into her.
The Shangri-La Hotel was housed in The Shard along with offices and top restaurants. One of London’s most recognisable buildings, The Shard was visible from all around with its sculpted, tapered form. Lydia had only ever seen it from a distance. She’d heard there was something called The View, which was London’s highest viewing platform and with a three hundred and sixty degree panorama of the city, she knew it would be spectacular.
She took the escalator down a level after she came out of the station and walked round to the hotel’s entrance, and as she wheeled her overnight suitcase into the lift she wanted to pinch herself. She couldn’t believe Theo had done all this, for her.
She was actually escorted up to her room by a member of staff and when she was let into the room her jaw dropped, because the floor-to-ceiling windows looked out over the most impressive vista of the city she’d ever seen. There was an enormous bed in the centre of the room, a television, minibar and a sofa, as well as a desk, and to the right were wardrobes and what must be the bathroom. Once the member of staff left, Lydia looked out of the windows again. She could see Tower Bridge, Shakespeare’s Globe, both instantly recognisable, and from the side of the room, the London Eye. She took the complimentary binoculars out of their leather holdall and spent a while simply taking in the sight of London spread out before her, using the iPad to look up exactly what the various buildings were when she couldn’t identify them herself.
She put down the binoculars and went into the bathroom, and if it were possible, her jaw fell that little bit more. There was a free-standing shower, a bathtub with the same view from floor-to-ceiling windows that matched the ones in the bedroom. There was a TV screen in the mirror above a vanity with his and hers sinks and complimentary toiletries. Tears sprung to her eyes and she put her hands against her lips to stop the emotions threatening to tumble out. ‘Oh, Theo.’ She could imagine him making the booking, getting excited he was doing something she’d never expect. And this spend was okay because he’d been sensible lately and they had managed their finances well, apart from one investment that hadn’t worked out for them, but that was what happened with investments, there were no guarantees.
She went through to the room and sat on the bed, her hand against the luxurious white linen, and when there was a knock at the door she opened it to find a lady offering her a pot of welcome tea. She poured herself a cup and sat on the floor right by the window, marvelling at the views. She’d spent a lot of time in London when she worked here but she’d never looked at the city as a tourist, someone who didn’t have to rush into a job each day and hurry home at night. The whole city operated at a high speed and it was nice to be all the way up here and take in the city in a different way. Even the River Thames looked different, its bends and curves meandering along.
After her welcome tea, Lydia couldn’t resist running a bath. She tipped in half of the bubble bath provided and without shutting the blinds – she hoped nobody in a building down there had binoculars like she did – she stepped in for a long soak. She’d intended to read the book she had with her but she alternated between lying back and closing her eyes or gazing out at the view.
Wrapped in a fluffy robe she dried her hair and when there was another knock at the door, she put her cup beside the leather holdall that housed the teapot, ready to hand back to the woman who’d delivered it.
But when she opened the door it wasn’t anyone who worked for the hotel. It was someone else she definitely recognised, someone she hadn’t seen for a very long time.
And she had no idea what was going on.