Ceri put his arm around Mick’s shoulder and pulled his head onto his chest until the sobbing subsided. His anger at Mick’s mother was red hot. He wanted to scream at her for what she’d done to her only child, what she was still doing. He held Mick until he was ready to talk once more, rocking him back and forth. It was a few minutes until they pulled apart.
Ceri put his hands either side of Mick’s face. “I love you, Mick Flanagan, and I want to marry you. You are the nicest, kindest, and sexiest man I’ve ever met, and none of this is your fault. You’re the victim here, and you need to understand that. And even if I have to keep telling you forever, I will. Do you understand what I’m saying to you? Until I met you, I kept kidding myself everything was all right but that world wasn’t real. I was drifting, going from person to person trying to find… oh, I don’t know, something, but now I have you and a plan for my future. I know what I want to do, and, even better, I’ve got someone to think about other than me. I wouldn’t change that for the world. No one has ever made me feel like you do, so don’t you ever think you’re worthless, because I need you in my life, even with your terrible beard and your need to eat everything in order of sell-by date. You are never going back to that lonely life you had, because I won’t let you, and I doubt Sally would either, not to mention Carlos and the Space Pirates.” Mick laughed. Ceri thought that it was the most beautiful sound in the world.
His heart skipped a beat as Mick looked up at him through those auburn lashes, his pale blue eyes now sparkling again. “I love you too. You’ve no idea how much. I thought my life was over before you came and shook me up. I still have no idea why you bothered, but I’m so glad you did. I’ll talk to the counsellor and hopefully he’ll help.” Ceri put on a sad face. Mick took his hand.
“Don’t be hurt. I will talk to you eventually, but somehow, it’s easier to talk to someone you don’t know.”
“It’s all right. I know. I wasn’t being serious.”
“Good. I’ve got an appointment next week. In the meantime, we’ve got to sort out you applying for university and finding us somewhere to live. I can’t change the past, Ceri, so I guess I’ll just have to learn to live with it, and if Mum won’t talk to me again, I guess I’ll just have to live with that as well. As long as I have you nothing else matters.” He leant forward so their foreheads touched. Lost in their own little world, just for a few minutes, nothing else did matter.
CHAPTER 19
A few weeks passed. Mick talked to his counsellor on a couple of occasions and confident she was helping him come to terms with everything. Once a week, he and Ceri visited Tommy in the hospice. Mick knew his mother’s condition was deteriorating fast, but she still wouldn’t see him.
“I’ve asked her again,” the manager said. “I told her you wanted to talk to her, but she just shook her head. I don’t think you should give up, though, as this time she did say
not yet,
so there may be hope.”
“That’s good, isn’t it?” Sally said later that evening. “Maybe she will see you before she dies.” Olivia grizzled in her arms. “Not sure what’s up with her tonight. I hope you can manage to get some sleep as it’s your night off. You two got any plans?”
Ceri sighed then raised his eyebrows and smirked. “Mick is going to pin me down and make me watch
Buffy
as I haven’t seen any of it. Here, pass her over to me. My brother says I have a way with grizzling babies because I was one myself.”
“Knock yourself out. Perhaps she’s hungry. I’ve got a bottle made up that I expressed earlier.”
“Give it here. I’ll go and sit in the other room and see how we get on.” Minutes later, Mick listened as Ceri sang to the baby. He didn’t know if it was working on Olivia, but he could feel his own eyes closing. Shaking himself out of just watching Ceri, he turned to Sally and said, “I’ll sort out the salad to go with the pasta. Is Phil working tonight?”
“Yes, his paternity leave is over now, so it’s just me and her. Thank God for Ceri. She hasn’t started crying again; he certainly seems to have a way with her, doesn’t he? D’you think you two will have children?”
“I don’t know, I’ve never considered it before, but I think Ceri wants to. We haven’t been together that long, and we’re not rushing into marriage. We haven’t even lived together yet. There’s Ceri’s application and my mum to consider, at the moment. Lots of things are up in the air.”
“Will you go to Leeds with him if he gets in? I’ll miss you now I’ve only just found you again, but I understand.”
The phone rang and Olivia, disturbed by the noise, started to cry a little again. “I’ll get it,” Sally said. Mick went into the kitchen and started to sort the salad, adding a few things to make it less boring.
“Mick.” Sally appeared at the door and handed him the phone. “It’s the hospice. Your mum has taken a turn for the worse and has asked to see you. You’d better go.”
Mick put down the knife and tried to think clearly. “Yes, all right, tell them I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
“I’ll come with you,” Ceri said. “I’ll get the stuff for the bike. Come on, it’s good she wants to see you, isn’t it?”
Mick shook his head. “But it means she thinks she’s about to die. She might not want to make up with me even now, but I know I’ve got to see her this last time.”
At the hospice, one of the helpers took him to his mother’s room. “My name is Concita; I’ve been helping with her care for a while. She doesn’t trust many people. You need to understand she’s on a lot of medication, and may not be conscious for long. It’s difficult to tell. Every person is different, but she’s been saying she’s ready, and that usually means they aren’t going to fight anymore. Her breathing is very shallow, and she’s on oxygen, but she doesn’t like using the mask. She may not be able to talk, but she can hear you.”
“You go in with her,” Ceri said. “I’ll wait outside unless you need me.” He kissed him gently. Mick squeezed Ceri’s hand and then went into the room where his mother lay close to death.
He looked around. The room seemed strangely bright. Shouldn’t death beds be in dark rooms, with the curtains closed and everyone dressed in dark colours, as the dying person breathed their last? It always seemed to be that way in films. Concita gestured him to sit in the chair next to the bed. His mother had an oxygen mask over her face. With shaking hands, she signalled Concita to remove it. Mick wasn’t sure what he’d expected. He had no idea how they did things in hospices. His only other real experience of death had been Alfie’s, and he hadn’t really had time to process Alfie was dead because it had all happened so quickly.
“Mum, I came as you asked. I’m glad you did. I just wanted to tell you that I love you, and I forgive you. Nothing else matters now. You’re my mother.” She tried to speak, but her voice just rasped. “It’s all right, you don’t have to say anything. I’m going to stay as long as you need me.” Her eyes looked to the table, and Mick saw a glass with a straw.
“D’you want this?” He held the straw between her lips as she took a little sip. Then he took her hand; it felt cold, and the skin was dry and papery. He had no idea what to say now. He’d told her the important things, so he may as well tell her the rest.
“I’m not sure if you want to hear this, Mum, but I’m getting married sometime next year; we haven’t decided when yet. I know you don’t approve of me and how I live my life, and I understand a bit more about why now. I know I should have been a girl, and that you tried to pretend I was one for as long as you could, but that didn’t make me gay. I was just born this way. It’s nothing to do with you. And I’m really happy now. I’ve got Ceri, and I met Sally again. Yes, I know you didn’t like her, but she’s married now and has a little girl—Olivia. She doesn’t have much hair yet, but she’s beautiful. Ceri is so good with her, and she always goes to sleep in his arms. We’ve even talked about having children.”
“Does he love you?” The question came out in a quiet whisper and took Mick by surprise.
“Yes, he tells me he does and shows me in lots of different ways. I wasn’t in a good place when I met him, but he’s been so wonderful. He’s here if you want to meet him.”
She pulled her hand out from underneath his. “Hot.”
“D’you want me to call Concita?” he asked. She shook her head slowly and then closed her eyes. For a while, he wasn’t sure what to do. He could still hear her breathing. Should he put the mask back over her face? Instead, he just sat and waited for a while. After twenty minutes, Ceri put his head around the door. Mick gestured him to come in.
“She’s asleep, I think,” he explained. “Concita said she was in and out. She asked if you loved me.”
“I hope you told her more than anything else in the whole world.” He kissed Mick on the top of his head then sat in the chair next to his.
“Something like that. I don’t think she’s got long, Ceri. I think she’s given up now. At least she’s letting me stay. I’d hate to think of her dying all by herself. She’s so young, but she looks so tired.”
§ § §
Mick sat holding Ceri’s hand watching over her for the next few hours while staff came in and out. When she became disturbed and talked nonsense to herself, they gave her more morphine.
“D’you think she’ll talk again?” Mick asked a nurse.
“There’s no way to know. We’ve checked her vitals and everything is slowing down. The chances are she won’t wake up again. Just talk to her. She still may be able to hear your voice.”
While Ceri stepped out to make some phone calls, Mick told his mother about his stories and how he hoped to get them published. He told her tales of Carlos and the Space Pirates, leaving out anything he thought she might not like. He also talked about his childhood and how she’d looked after him and kept him safe. Later, Ceri sat next to him, listening as well. Outside, the light faded, and Concita closed the curtains; the room felt even more enclosed now. Sometimes she moved around and mumbled some more, but he was sure she now had no idea they were there. Then there was silence. Both he and Ceri had been close to dozing off themselves. Mick noticed the difference first.
“I think she’s stopped breathing. Will you get someone?” Ceri went straight out of the door. Mick wetted the back of his hand and put it next to her lips; there was nothing, and her chest wasn’t moving either. He kissed her cheek and sat back down. Seconds later, Ceri came back in, accompanied by a nurse.
She checked for a pulse and shook her head. “She’s gone,” she said. “It was good you were here.” She tidied up the bed and then left them in the room. Ceri took Mick into his arms and let him weep. After a few minutes, someone new came in.
“Mr. Flanagan,” she said, offering her hand. “I’m sorry for your loss. My name is Doctor Brownley, Gemma Brownley. I’ve been looking after your mother whilst she’s been here. I just need to make a few checks and sort out the information for the death certificate. We won’t need to do a post mortem as she’s been receiving treatment.”
Mick nodded. “I’ve no idea what she wanted. I don’t even know if she’d made any arrangements for her funeral. I know my grandmother was buried, so I guess she’d want to be buried with her. I don’t even know who to ask.”
“We’ll probably have some information here.” As she went through the formalities, the manager came in. They followed her to the main office and drank tea, obviously made sweet for the purpose. Mick explained how he had no idea about the practicalities.
“We have the name of the funeral director. Someone will collect your mother’s body and visit you. She left information about what she wanted. I think it’s very simple, as she wasn’t expecting anyone to be there. This is the contact number. Give them a ring in the morning. I would suggest you go home now and get some rest. I know the circumstances weren’t easy for you, but at least you could be here at the end.”
§ § §
Around midnight, Ceri wheeled the bike into the garage. They found Sally feeding Olivia in the kitchen. She looked up when they came in.
“She died about an hour ago,” Mick said. “She simply faded away.”
Sally reached out a hand and touched his arm. “It’s better that way. Go and get some sleep. You both look shattered.”
Mick stood, unable to move, letting Ceri undress him. He snuggled into Ceri’s arms on the narrow bed, needing the warmth and safety of his body next, before he fell asleep and escaped his whirling mind.
CHAPTER 20
In the end, sorting the funeral proved simple. His mother had planned everything. She’d never been one for organized religion, so he wasn’t surprised to find out she’d arranged for a humanist celebrant. However, he was surprised that the woman had regularly visited his mother. At least it meant someone who knew her would be doing the talking. The service took place in the funeral home—in a special room set aside for the purpose. Mick didn’t know what to expect. The only funeral he’d ever attended was Alfie’s, and he’d been too numb to take much notice of what was going on.
On the day, Sally and Phil took them in their car. They parked next to the building and got out. Sally hugged him, and then Ceri took his hand as they entered the building and gave it a squeeze.
“It’ll be all right,” he said. Mick just nodded. Inside, there were some people from the hospice; he thanked them for coming. He also noticed their old neighbour, Mr. Brown, sitting to one side. The service was brief and to the point. He almost smiled when he saw the cardboard coffin. How typical of his mother to choose such a receptacle. As he stood next to the grave, he couldn’t pin down his feelings. The gravestone showed the names of his grandmother and great-grandmother, women who’d made decisions that had affected his whole life, and now his mother’s name would be added to the list. He threw the soil into the hole and then leaned his head against Ceri’s shoulder. Only Sally and Phil came with them to the burial. Sally took his hand briefly and then walked off with Phil, leaving them alone. The day was glorious; it was one of those days when the sun shone but it wasn’t too hot. Dappled light moved across the grave as tree branches swayed in the breeze. It was the perfect day for a walk in the countryside or a stroll along a beach. Instead Ceri led him to a bench not far from the graveside. For a while Mick sat in silence, staring out into space, trying to collect his thoughts.