The Last Days of Rabbit Hayes (29 page)

‘You’re all right, son, we’ll be at the hospital in five minutes.’ Lenny turned to his wife. ‘You are the one who nearly drove into the back of a truck, Grace. You need to calm down.’

Grace took a deep breath. ‘I’m sorry, love,’ she said to Jeffrey.

‘Me nan’ll be OK, Ma. And I’m not going to get diabetes. I’m going to lose weight and I’ll wear me seatbelt from here on in.’

‘Thanks.’

‘Sorry, Ma.’

‘Sorry, son.’

As soon as they got out of the car Lenny examined Jeffrey’s nose. Although his face and T-shirt were a mess, the blood had stopped flowing. ‘There’s nothing broken here.’

‘Feels OK,’ Jeffrey agreed.

‘You sure?’ Grace asked, grabbing a bag from the boot.

‘Yeah.’

‘Let’s go.’ She walked to A&E so quickly that Lenny and Jeffrey had to run to keep up.

Grace knew the inside of that hospital’s A&E department like the back of her hand. She didn’t stop to ask anyone for attention. She’d learned long ago that if you walked in with purpose and confidence no one bothered you. The medics were too busy, and even security was fooled by her air of authority. Lenny and Jeffrey headed for the waiting area. She found her parents quickly, mainly because she could hear her mother arguing with a doctor from behind the curtain. She pulled it aside to reveal Molly sitting up in bed with wires attached to her chest, her father standing beside her, and a harassed young doctor attending to her. A drunken girl two cubicles away was yelling ‘Vodka stat,’ over and over again.

‘What’s going on?’ Grace asked.

‘I’m just explaining that I’m fine now and surely I can reschedule tests for a more convenient time.’

‘And the doctor disagrees. He says your mother should be admitted for investigation.’

‘Ma, you’re going to have to stay.’

‘I’m not staying.’

‘Doctor, can I talk to you for a minute outside?’

The young man followed Grace and closed the curtain behind him; they walked a few paces away and kept their voices low.

‘Is it possible to medicate to avoid further complications until my mother can reschedule tests?’

‘I wouldn’t advise it.’

‘But is that because she’s in very real danger or you have to cover your arse?’ Her direct approach made him bristle. She didn’t care. She didn’t have time to be polite.

‘Your mother is a seventy-two-year-old woman who presented with chest pain and shortness of breath. Her symptoms were resolved when Mr Dunne administered nitroglycerin. She needs an ECG to determine whether she is suffering from angina and, if confirmed, she’ll need further tests to establish which type.’

‘You haven’t answered my question.’

‘Just because she’s not in immediate danger doesn’t mean she won’t be if she leaves this hospital. That is why I’m covering our collective arses.’

‘How long will these investigations take?’

‘Depends.’

‘On what?’

‘How many people are in the line and the severity of each individual case.’

‘Are special circumstances taken into consideration?’

‘Everybody has special circumstances of their own.’

‘Does everybody have their forty-year-old daughter dying in a hospice?’

The young doctor’s expression froze. Almost instantly his attitude and body language changed. ‘I’m very sorry. Let me see what I can do.’

‘We’d really appreciate it.’

Molly was lying down and Jack was holding her hand when Grace reappeared.

‘It’s going to be all right, Ma. They’ll do the tests as quick as they can. You’ll be out of here in no time.’

‘I need to be out of here now.’ Molly’s eyes were welling. ‘We don’t have time for this.’

‘Just hang on. I’ll get it sorted, I promise.’

‘Good girl, Grace.’ Jack turned back to his wife. ‘She’s a fighter, like her ma.’

Lenny and Jeffrey weren’t in the waiting area. She rang Lenny, who confirmed they were in a coffee shop across the road. Jeffrey had the morning off school to see a paediatrician. It had been an early appointment but they had woken late and missed breakfast. It was lunchtime, and when Grace entered, smelling coffee and toast, her stomach growled and she felt a little faint. After ordering, she joined Lenny and Jeffrey at the table.

‘I’m eating a salad, Ma.’ Jeffrey pointed to his plate.

‘Good boy.’

‘How’s me nan?’

‘Pissed off.’

‘That’s a good sign,’ Lenny said.

Grace agreed. ‘She just needs to get out of there.’

She ate her sandwich and drank her coffee. When they were paying, her phone rang. It was her father. ‘They’ve taken her upstairs.’

It was good news. She would have her tests and, all going well, she’d be out sooner rather than later. Grace told Lenny to drop Jeffrey at school and go to work; it wasn’t necessary for the pair of them to hang around. Lenny didn’t want to leave her there alone. ‘I have me da,’ she said, and insisted they go.

Grace stopped off at the Spar to buy snacks for her parents, but when she returned her father was sound asleep on a chair and her mother was locked behind a closed door. Grace rifled through the bag, found a cereal bar and ate it. Then she pulled out a bag of sweets and ate them; after that she decided that, as she’d already broken her strict regime, she might as well go the whole hog and eat the little chocolate egg. Then she felt sick and berated herself for eating so much rubbish. She spotted a magazine on the chairs opposite. She’d read it from cover to cover the week before in the hairdresser’s, but she read it again – anything to keep her mind off what was going on. It was all too much.

Her da was snoring. Normally the sound annoyed the heart and soul out of her but today it was comforting. Every now and then she worried about Rabbit and what was going on. Jeffrey had wanted to visit his aunt after he’d seen the paediatrician but he’d missed his opportunity. Bernard and Stephen hadn’t had a chance to speak to her when they’d gone in. The only one of her boys who hadn’t pushed to see Rabbit was Ryan. She wondered why, but of the four, Ryan was the one who mystified her most. There was a large black clock on the wall with white numbers and hands. She wondered if her boys would get a chance to say goodbye to their aunt, if she was missing her own chance, and how long Rabbit would last if she knew her beloved mother was struggling.
Don’t worry, Rabbit, Ma’s going to be all right, you know that, right? Nothing’s going to kill Ma. If anyone could live for ever it’s her, so hang on, and wait for us. Don’t go yet. Please, Rabbit.

She spent the rest of the afternoon talking to doctors, taking care of her father and texting Davey after he had messaged her:

How’s me ma?

They think it’s angina. How’s Rabbit?

What the fuck is angina? She wants to go to the garden but it’s still raining.

Some doctor came out to us and said not to worry it’s most likely the good kind, whatever that means. DO NOT let Rabbit out into the garden when it’s raining.

Is Ma coming out this evening? If Rabbit is intent on doing something she does it, not to mention Juliet and Mabel fighting her corner. I’m trying me best.

Don’t know yet. Just put your foot down Davey.

Keep me posted. She’s just gone asleep, crisis averted.

The doctors decided to keep her mother in for observation but would probably allow her to leave the next morning. Once settled, Molly insisted Grace take her father home and that she be left alone. ‘I’m tired. I just want to sleep. Please, Grace, go to your sister.’

‘OK, Ma.’ Grace was relieved. Her anxiety levels dipped slightly.
Wait for us, Rabbit
. Jack wanted to see his daughter but even he was too tired to object when Grace parked the car outside the house.

‘What if she goes on us?’

‘She won’t, Da.’

‘You don’t know that.’

‘I do. She’ll wait.’

He leaned over and kissed Grace’s cheek. ‘Tell her that her mammy and daddy love her and we’ll see her tomorrow.’

‘I will.’

He got out of the car and she watched him open the gate and walk up the path to the door. He tried to put the key in but his hand was shaking. Eventually the door opened. He waved at her, then went inside, closing it behind him. It was just after five o’clock. Grace decided to go home, shower, change, feed her kids and bring them all to see their aunt. Grace was sure Rabbit would wait for her parents, but she knew time was running out.

In the two years that had passed since Rabbit had declared her love for Johnny, a lot and nothing had changed. The band had gone through another two managers; Johnny’s health was continuing to deteriorate. He walked with a cane, he was slower, weaker. Once in a while his body refused to co-operate, but oddly never on stage. He could still sing. His voice and his talent were intact, but it was hard to sell a band with a disabled lead singer, no matter how good the tunes and how solid the act. The lads forged ahead. They had long ago agreed they wouldn’t give up until Johnny said the word, but Francie took a part-time job in a local pharmaceutical factory, Jay started a sound-engineering course and Kev deputized for the guitar player in a wedding band. Davey still believed: he invested himself completely in the band. He took over management in the absence of representation.

‘If Stevie Wonder can do it, we can,’ he said, and repeated it over and over, much to the lads’ enjoyment and Johnny’s frustration. They still gigged when they could; they kept it local most of the time, but if there was a good-paying gig somewhere, they could still rely on the twins and Uncle Terry, who would take them in the bread van, only now they created a makeshift bed in the back so that Johnny could sleep on the journey there and back. It was a tight squeeze but they put up with it, and even though the great hope they’d once shared was gone, it was still a lot of fun.

Davey sent a tape of songs to a new record label in London and within a week had received a call from an excited A&R man called Billy Wilde. He loved the songs. He asked for a photo. Davey sent one that was four years old. The guy flipped for the handsome lead singer, not to mention the rest of the band. They looked good together, like rock stars: he couldn’t imagine why they hadn’t been picked up before. Davey said nothing. The guy wanted to see them play. They didn’t have a gig coming up so Davey suggested they play for him in the garage. The guy was happy with that and the sooner he saw them the better.

Rabbit turned eighteen and even though she and Johnny were still not romantically linked, they were closer than ever. When they were gigging she was his right-hand woman. Nothing came to Johnny that didn’t pass through Rabbit. She made sure he had everything he needed, before, during and after his performance. She brought him on stage and took him off. Before it became apparent that he couldn’t really function without her, the lads were a little resentful of her constant presence, but that phase faded quickly. When they went out drinking and trawling for women on a Friday and Saturday night, Johnny and Rabbit stayed in with a curry and a video. Francie and Jay treated them like a couple, and neither ever complained. Kev often wondered why they just didn’t get on with it, but only when Davey was out of the room: he reacted badly to the notion of anyone, even one of his best friends, having any kind of relationship with his baby sister.

The afternoon Billy Wilde flew into Dublin was hot and sticky. Johnny couldn’t stand the heat – it made him feel even more exhausted than usual. He was shaky and he’d been experiencing painful muscle spasms all morning. He needed to sleep, and they had an hour before Billy was due to arrive. The lads had a sound check without him. Rabbit dragged him upstairs, practically carrying him on her back. No one batted an eyelid because they were used to it. She helped him into her bed, closed the curtains and tucked him in.

‘I’ll come and get you when he arrives,’ she said.

‘I’ll feel better after a sleep.’

While he slept, the lads sat outside in the garden enjoying the sun. Davey was anxious: everyone else seemed a little too relaxed. They were talking about everything and anything but the guy coming to see them, who would perhaps offer them a record deal. Davey was perplexed and Rabbit knew it, but he didn’t bring it up, just paced up and down the garden, then disappeared to the loo. The absence of excitement told Rabbit everything she needed to know, but still she hoped.
Maybe.

Molly answered the door to Billy. He was a stocky redhead with whiskers and there wasn’t one centimetre of earlobe without a piercing stuck through it. He was hyped. When she brought him out into the garden to meet the band, he shook their hands and assured them he was there to do business. He swung his briefcase and tapped it to ensure they knew there were contracts inside. Rabbit went to get Johnny and her ma insisted that Billy come inside for something to eat and drink.

When she woke Johnny, the spasms had worn off but his feet were numb and his balance was off. She helped him fix his beautiful hair; he put on his vintage velvet jacket. ‘How do I look?’

‘Handsome.’

‘Let’s do it,’ he said, but even as he said it she knew he was upset: he was having a bad day. If he had been lucky enough to experience a good one, the guy might have signed them, but as Rabbit carried him down the stairs, they knew it was over.

The guy was sitting at the table with his briefcase open and the contracts visible. The lads were with him and Molly was pouring tea. He looked up at Johnny, and it was instantly obvious that the singer in the photo was not the same as the ravaged man walking with a cane, his arm around the young woman holding him up. Billy’s smile faded.

‘I’m Johnny.’

Johnny took his arm from around Rabbit’s waist and the two men shook hands.

‘It’s not going to happen, is it, Billy?’ he said.

Billy shook his head, his exuberance replaced by sadness.

‘Would you listen to us anyway, Billy?’ Johnny asked.

‘It would be an honour,’ Billy said.

They all went into the garage, Molly included, to watch Johnny and the Sound play their last ever gig. Only one person in the room didn’t cry that day and it was the man hunched on a chair, singing passionately from the darkest corners of his soul.