The Night the Angels Came (18 page)

I
parked the car outside Patrick’s house at six o’clock, which was the same time we’d been entering the hospital all week and stopping at the shop in the lobby.

‘Hey, I’ve missed out on my chocolate bar tonight,’ Michael joked, in very good spirits. ‘I bet Adrian and Paula are having their ice creams.’

‘I bet they are too,’ I said, smiling. ‘I owe you one. Remind me if I forget.’

‘I will!’

I got out of the car and then opened the rear child-locked door to let Michael out. He sprang on to the pavement and was up the front path and ringing the doorbell before I’d taken the first of his bags from the car. The front door immediately opened and Michael fell into his father’s arms. As he hugged his son Pat looked at me and winked and I smiled back. Apart from being very thin, Pat had a good colour and looked well.

‘Michael, go and help Cathy with your belongings,’ Pat said after a moment.

Michael returned to the car and together we carried his bags and Scalextric box up the path while Pat held open their front door.

‘Good to see you home, Pat,’ I said as he closed the door and I put the bags down in the hall.

‘It’s good to be home,’ he said, and lightly kissed my cheek. ‘Let’s go into the sitting room. Nora’s just left. She’s looking in again later with my dinner. Bless her.’

I followed Patrick and Michael down the hall and into their sitting room. Pat’s breathing was good and he seemed to be walking very well. The house was warm and inviting now that Patrick was home, compared to the last time I’d come in with Michael and Nora when Pat had been in hospital. A large vase of fresh flowers stood in the hearth, and the newspaper which I guessed Patrick must have been reading prior to our arrival lay open on the sofa.

‘Sit yourself down,’ Pat said, folding the paper and dropping it into the magazine rack. ‘Would you like a drink?’

‘No, I’m fine, thanks. Can I get you anything?’

Pat smiled and shook his head. He sat on the sofa and Michael nestled in beside him as I sat in the armchair. Pat put his arm around his son and kept it there, hugging him as the three of us started chatting. Michael told his father about the school assembly that morning which he, with his class, had presented to the rest of the school, and I told Patrick that Michael had had his dinner, and his washing was up to date apart from the school uniform he now wore. Pat thanked me for this and for all I’d done while he’d been in hospital, and I said there was no need to thank me as I was only too happy to help. Yet while we were talking, and although Patrick was his usual kind, caring and polite self, I sensed a certain reserve in his manner, a formality, as if he was preoccupied or was putting some distance between us. After a few minutes he said, ‘Michael, would you go up to your bedroom, please, and start unpacking, while I talk to Cathy?’

Michael immediately scrambled down from the sofa and went out of the sitting room to do as his father had asked. We heard the large holdall which was full to bursting being bumped up the stairs and then Michael’s voice: ‘Dad, can I put up my Scalextric when I’ve unpacked?’

‘Of course, son,’ Pat said.

Standing, Pat crossed the sitting room and closed the door; then he returned to sit on the sofa, which was at right angles to the armchair in which I sat. He looked down, away from me, and concentrated on his lap. Although I appreciated Patrick wanted to talk to me alone, I had no reason to believe I should be fearful of what he was about to say. He seemed relaxed, just a little bit preoccupied.

‘Cathy,’ he said, finally raising his gaze to mine, ‘in the months we have known each other I have always respected your honesty and integrity. I trust you will now respect mine. I need to speak to you openly and I hope you will understand the reason for my decision.’

I felt a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. ‘Decision? What decision?’ I asked.

Pat took a moment and glanced down again, as though gathering his thoughts or summoning strength for what he was about to say.

‘Cathy, I think I’m right in saying we have grown very close in the time we have known each other and our families have grown close too.’ I nodded.

‘In a different place and time,’ Pat conyinued, ‘when circumstances would have been different, I think we could have built on this and possibly even made a future together, but I have to be realistic. Ironically, I wouldn’t have met you in a different place and time because my illness was the reason we were brought together: so that you could look after Michael while I was in hospital. Rightly or wrongly, we have become very close and part of each other’s lives. Don’t get me wrong: it’s been lovely. But I think we have both forgotten how ill I am. I’ve now had a reminder and as a result I’ve made some very difficult and painful decisions.’

Patrick paused to take a breath and the sinking feeling I had in the pit of my stomach exploded into fear. I didn’t say anything but sat motionless, concentrating on Pat and waiting for him to continue.

When he looked at me again I saw the pain of what he was about to say in his eyes, even before he spoke. ‘Cathy,’ he said slowly, ‘I am a dying man. That has always been so since I first met you and it remains true today. I intend making the most of the time I have left, but I don’t want you and your children hurt any more than you have to be. I blame myself for letting the three of you grow close to me, but it was so easy and so wonderful. I hope you will forgive me for wanting a last stab at happiness.’

I went to speak, but Pat raised his hand, gesturing for me to stay silent. ‘Please hear me out, love,’ he said. ‘This is so difficult, but I have to say it.’

I felt my heart pounding and panic gripped me. I looked at Pat as he took another breath before continuing. ‘I like to think that as you and your family brought added happiness to Michael and me, so I gave the three of you something, perhaps a warmth, a male presence that had been missing since John left. But I am acutely aware that Adrian and Paula have already lost a father, and you a husband. I do not want any of you upset by losing another family member, which is how I’ve come to view myself.’

He paused.

‘I don’t understand,’ I said. ‘What are you trying to tell me?’ He took a deep breath, ‘Cathy, I’ve made the difficult decision that it would be for the best if we no longer saw each other. I hope and pray you will still look after Michael but I will no longer be seeing you, Adrian and Paula socially. Michael doesn’t have a choice in losing his father, but your children do. I hope that by putting distance between us now, when the time comes you will not feel my loss so acutely. That is my decision. I hope you understand.’

The room was quiet. Nothing could be heard save for the faint ticking of the clock on the wall. I felt hot and cold at once and couldn’t speak for fear of bursting into tears. Pat looked sad but composed. I knew I should admire his selflessness – his wish to protect us – but I couldn’t.

‘So you are withdrawing from our lives completely?’ I said at last.

‘As much as I can. I know this has come as a shock to you, Cathy, but it is for the best. I’ve had plenty of time in hospital to think about it. It wouldn’t be right to continue as we were – nice as it has been.’

I rested my head on the chair back and looked at him. ‘Oh, Pat,’ I began but couldn’t continue as my eyes filled.

We were quiet again for some time; then I took a tissue from my pocket and wiped my eyes. My voice trembled as I spoke and I asked the question I didn’t want to hear the answer to: ‘What exactly have the doctors told you, Pat?’

‘That I have three months maximum and should go home and enjoy the time I have left. Which I intend to.’

I held my voice steady as I spoke. ‘And you can’t enjoy it with us?’

‘I could, very much, but I won’t. If you want to help me, Cathy, you can do so by looking after Michael whenever I have to go into hospital. Knowing he is being well looked after means everything to me.’

Although my heart screamed that Pat’s decision was wrong and we should continue as we had been – all seeing each other – a part of me knew he was right. I recognized the truth in what he said – we had all grown very close – and Jill’s warning came back to me.

‘Is that why you didn’t want me to bring Adrian and Paula to visit you in hospital?’ I asked at length. ‘Not because you didn’t feel well enough but because you were starting to put distance between us?’

Pat nodded.

I took a deep breath, wiped my eyes again and blew my nose. ‘Supposing you and I continued to see each other? Without Adrian and Paula? We’re adults. Surely we can handle this?’

Pat gave a small smile. ‘Let’s wait and see. It’s difficult for me too. For now I think we should try and get on with our lives and concentrate on our children. Please don’t think I’m being ungrateful.’

‘I don’t,’ I said.

Standing, I went to the sofa and sat next to Pat. I put my arms around him and we held each other tight. He didn’t resist. But as we hugged I felt just how thin and frail he had become; there wasn’t a bit of flesh on him. I could feel his bones jutting out, and I wanted to hold him and look after him and never let him go. I caught the faintest whiff of the soap he used, so poignant in its familiarity, felt the slight bristle of his chin on my cheek, and the rise and fall of his chest against mine. I knew there was nothing I could say or do to change Pat’s mind or alter the prognosis. We were all at the mercy of his illness, and Pat’s decision had been made selflessly – to protect me and my children.

‘You’d best be going now, love,’ he said quietly, after a few moments, his voice thick with emotion. ‘I need to get Michael settled.’

I stood, and moved a little away from the sofa. Pat stood too. ‘Cathy,’ he said. I turned and met his gaze, his usually kind and smiling eyes were now full of pain and sorrow. ‘Tell me you forgive me and that you understand,’ he said, close to tears.

‘There is nothing to forgive,’ I said quietly. ‘And yes, I do understand.’

‘Thank you,’ he said, and lightly kissed my cheek.

‘Have you told Nora and Jack, and Colleen and Eamon?’ I asked.

‘Not yet. I will, closer to the time or when it becomes obvious, although little slips past Nora.’

‘And what will you tell Michael?’

‘That the two of us will be spending as much time as we can with each other. That’s all he need know for now.’

I gave a small nod. ‘Sorry,’ Pat said, touching my arm.

I took his hand. ‘Don’t be. If I regret anything, it would be that we didn’t meet sooner. You were right when you said you’ve given my children and me something. It’s something very special: you’ve restored my faith.’

‘In men?’ Patrick asked with a slight smile. ‘In one man,’ I said. Pat’s eyes misted and he waved for me to go before he broke down. I turned and began towards the sitting-room door.

Pat followed me down the hall to the front door. I paused at the foot of the stairs and, keeping my voice steady, called up: ‘Goodbye, Michael! I’m off now.’

‘Bye, Cathy,’ Michael returned, and then appeared on the landing. ‘Tell Adrian and Paula I’m putting the Scalextric up ready for when they come.’

I glanced at Pat. ‘I’ll explain,’ he said quietly to me under his breath.

‘Night,’ I called to Michael.

‘Night, Auntie Cathy.’

Pat opened the front door and I went out.

I didn’t look back as I continued down the path. Concentrating hard, I looked straight ahead. I heard Pat close the door behind me, and taking my keys from my jacket pocket I opened the car door and got in. As I put the key into the ignition Nora came out of her front door carrying a cloth-covered tray, presumably Pat’s dinner. She saw me and smiled enthusiastically. I managed a small smile in return and she continued up Pat’s front path. I started the car and pulled away. I drove to the top of the street, out of sight of Pat’s house, and parked. I turned off the engine and wept. I cried openly as I hadn’t done in a long while: for Pat, our children and the unfairness of it all.

As I sat behind the steering wheel, my cheeks wet and my head lowered, shielding my face from any passer-by, my phoned bleeped with a text message. I mechanically took the phone from my pocket and opened it, fearing more bad news. I was surprised to see it was from Pat, and my heart skipped a beat wondering if he had changed his mind about us seeing each other. He hadn’t, but what he said helped a little. A great one for quotes, he texted:
Stars are openings in heaven where the love of our lost ones shines through. Look to the stars Cathy and don’t be sad. Pat x

When I arrived home I put on a brave face.

‘Did everything go all right?’ Helen asked, coming into the hall.

‘Yes, thank you,’ I said.

Adrian and Paula were watching a video in the sitting room and called ‘Hi, Mum,’ as they heard me come in, and then goodbye to Helen as she prepared to leave.

I thanked Helen as I saw her out. ‘I’m so grateful for all your help.’

‘Any time,’ she said. ‘You’re more than welcome.’

Having said goodbye to Helen I went into the sitting room, where Adrian and Paula were watching the last five minutes of the film
Beethoven
, about a very large and mischievous St Bernard dog. I joined them on the sofa and when the film had finished I switched off the television and announced in a bright positive voice: ‘I thought we’d have a day out tomorrow at the zoo.’

‘Great!’ Adrian exclaimed.

‘Great,’ Paula cried, clapping her hands together.

‘Great!’ I said and hugged them hard.

I read the children a few stories and then began the bedtime routine. It was then that Michael’s absence became really obvious.

‘Is Michael staying with his daddy now?’ Paula asked as I tucked her into bed.

‘Yes, love.’

‘Is his daddy better?’

‘He’s well enough to go home,’ I said carefully. Then, preparing Paula for not seeing so much of Michael in the future, I said: ‘I’m sure Michael and Pat will want to spend lots of time with each other – just the two of them, to make up for all the time Pat was in hospital.’