After Forever Ends (48 page)

“We prefer mono-zygotic, but close enough, Millie,” Oliver smiled and moved to look at the baby. “Silvia,” He called gently, “You have to see her! We have someone very special here!”

I rushed over and put my hand against Alexander's biceps. He turned and lowered her so I have a peek.

Oh, she was lovely. I’d never seen a full term baby so tiny. She was pale as snow, her pointed little head covered in thick honey coloured hair. “She’s truly beautiful,” I told Alexander, thinking she looked like one of the babies from the covers of magazines. “She’s amazing. Look at those fingers! Long and slender…she has your hands, Xander.”

“This,” Alexander whispered as tears began to stream down his cheeks. He took Natalie‘s little hand and she curled her tiny fingers around his thumb, “Is the most important woman I’m ever going to meet. This is the one who‘s going to teach me what love is all about.”

Oliver patted his brother on the back. None of us said another thing.

Even though he said he was not moving in, that night there were three babies and one Duncan sleeping in the nursery and Alexander sleeping on our sofa. It stayed that way until spring when a new top went on to the back of our little cabin. And then there were three babies and one Duncan in the nursery and Alexander sleeping in the smallest room upstairs.

I never heard another thing about Melissa until a year later when she rang us, weeping, “Silvia! It’s Melissa,” She sounded like she’s been at the pub all night, stuffed up and drunk, “Please don’t hang up on me! I know you know! How are Nigel and his sister?”

“Her name is Natalie. Didn’t you know that?”

“Yes, I knew that! It’s so pretty! Natalie. How are they?”

“They’re healthy and happy.” I wanted to hang up so badly my hand twitched, “Why don’t you speak to Alexander?”

I held the phone out at him. He was sitting in the middle of the floor playing a toy xylophone with Nattie. “It’s her, isn’t it?” He asked. I nodded. “Nigel’s out with Oliver?” I nodded again. “Jeez, it’s three in the morning stateside!” He stood up with a great sigh and took the phone. “Melissa?”

The rest of the conversation was held in hushed tones, “You want to see us? Well, I can help you with a ticket back to Wales. No. They’re babies, Mel. No. I’m not bringing them there, no way. Because I have a job. I can’t just go jumping the pond on a moment’s notice because you called. You’re working, yeah? You can come here then. Come on! Be reasonable! A toddler and a baby on a plane for twelve hours when you can come here?” There was a pause, “You did what? Well, that wasn’t very well thought out then, was it? I’m sorry. I don’t bring you up. He’s too young, he won’t get it.” He stopped speaking, obviously listening to her, “No!” He said suddenly and angrily, “Don’t you give me that shit, Melissa! They’re babies!” He sounded so sad I wanted to go over and comfort him, “Yours and mine! You left us!” Another pause, “It’s harder than you thought? Oh aye! For me as well! Don’t tell me that. It’s a lie. It’s a lie and you know it.” A half an hour later, Alexander had had enough, “This is going nowhere. I can’t do this with you. Because it hurts, that’s why. Go to a doctor, please. Please get on medication and get your life straight. Call again when you’re sober, right? Yes, I’ll answer. Yes. Goodbye, Melissa,” He hung up the phone with his head low.

“Are you all right?” I asked from the kitchen doorway.

He shook his head and looked at his daughter, “No, not really. I pretend I am, but I’m not.” He stood like he meant to walk out of the room, but he sat down on the sofa instead, “I’ll be honest. I’ve been waiting for her to ring. She does from time to time. I check my mobile every day, wondering if I’ve missed her. I actually hope she’ll ring, you know? I hope she’ll tell me she’s well. Just then, she was wrecked. She couldn’t carry on a conversation, she just babbled. Confessed her very soul to me, she just did.”

“She wants to see you and the children?”

He ran his hand through his dark hair, “Aye, it’s the first time she’s said so, but she can’t come here to see us. She wants me to bring the children there.”

“You said no.”

“I did. I can’t do it.” He was quiet for a long time. “No woman ever touched me, you know that, yeah? All those girls, all those girlfriends, even the ones I liked. Not one touched me, but Melissa broke my heart. I hate her for all the pain she caused me. I hate her because I loved her and I know she didn’t love me. And the really mad thing is I swear if she knocked on that door right now I can’t say I wouldn’t invite her in and do it again.”

I knew he would. If she had knocked instead of phoned he would have taken her back even after all she had done to him. Alexander was world renown for holding a grudge. Very few understood he had a vast capacity for forgiveness as well.

“I loved her, Sil. I truly did. I still do in this weird, masochistic sort of way. I could have loved her forever if she’d have let me,” He seemed dazed, as if this were something he'd gone over in his head a thousand times and had never been able to sort out, “We had a family. We could have been a right and true family, but she pushed us away. If she didn’t love me, that’s fine. It hurts, but I can live with it. That’s my fucked up karma. I think of Meredith Ainsworth and what I did to her and I know I deserve it. I just can’t understand why she didn’t love the children.” He dropped his head and rested it in his hands. When he looked up, he might have been crying, but there were no tears in his eyes, “Simple of me?”

“There’s nothing simple about it.”

“It’s just a damn shame,” He shook his head, “It’s just such a damn, tragic shame.”

I said nothing else.

Years later when she was grown and on her own, Natalie’s younger daughter had a health scare. Nattie looked her mother up and phoned her to ask some questions about the family’s medical history. Melissa answered all she asked, but at the end of the conversation she requested that Natalie never call again. Her voice was, she told her, too painful a reminder of a life she’d chosen to leave behind.

“What a complete bitch!” Natalie exclaimed as she hung up. “I’m still her daughter and this is her grandchild whether she likes it or not!”

I patted my niece on the shoulder. Alexander’s words rang through my mind. I was inclined to agree with him.

It was a damn tragic shame indeed.

Perhaps it was because he never let go of his sense of adventure or his quest for merriment, but his entire life Oliver Dickinson had a special way about him. He was always happy, always smiling, rarely did a negative statement ever escape his lips. By the time Carolena was two, he was the leading area paediatrician and he knew every child and every parent within an hour of the area. The children loved him to bits as he was kind and funny. Some adults, however, didn’t trust how odd he was. And my husband was odd, too, and unapologetic about it. He had his own method of doing things and he didn’t give a damn about what anyone thought because he was an excellent doctor and an excellent human being. He knew it, as well, although he never boasted.

I loved it when I was fortunate enough to be able to watch him at work. He was a man made for children. I remember one evening I was at his office with our own little ones, helping him close for the night, when the phone rang. Even after office hours with none of his staff there, he answered it. “Oh, great green goobers! “ He fiddled with a paperclip, “Yes, bring him in straight away! No, that’s fine. You’ll sit in that hospital for days before they’ll be able to see him. I’ll wait. “

A half hour later a young woman appeared with an obviously sick little boy. The child was terrified and refused to come out from under her coat or go into the examination room. I went into the back to tell Oliver. “He won’t come, Sweetheart. You should see him, though. I got his temperature and he’s got no fever, but and he’s crying and it hurts him to make any sound, so he‘s doing it silently. It‘s pathetic! It‘s awful!”

“Aww,” Oliver made a sad face, “Poor lad!” He washed his hands and walked into the lobby, tossed his lab jacket on to the sofa, and sat on a chair. “Hello,” He said brightly, “I’m Oliver,” He was looking right at the mother, “Are you Damien?”

“No,” She answered, clearly confused.

“Oh,” He scratched his head, “Somebody called Damien was supposed to stop by my office. Is he here?” He looked about dramatically, “I hear he’s quite frightened to be with a doctor. Maybe he’s hiding then?” He opened a drawer on the colouring table, “No, he’s not in here,” He looked under the chair, “No, not here, either!” He peered inside a tissue box, and then placed a fist on his hip, “Nor here. Hem! Well, where is he then?”

Damien giggled and poked his head out from under his mother’s coat.

“Ah-ha!” Oliver clapped his hands together, “I’ve found him! Damien, I need help! Can you help me?”

Damien nodded.

“I have this problem, you see,” Oliver leaned forward so he was eye level with the boy and looked at him very seriously, “I get these bogeys in my nose,” He said quickly, “Huge ones. Real dragon scales. I try to pull them out, but sometimes I can’t tell where they are,” He held out an instrument, “Can you look and see if you can find any for me?”

Damien giggled again He stepped away from his mother and held out his hand.

Oliver placed the object in his little hand, “Just push the red button and the light will come on-like. There, that’s right!” He tilted his head up, “Just shine it up my nose and tell me if I have any.” The little boy giggled and shined it up Ollie’s nose. “Do I have any?”

“No!” Damien laughed.

“Good! I must have got them! Would you mind if I had a look to see if you have any? We’ll do bogey patrol!” Damien handed him the light, tilted his head and Ollie had a peek, “Damien,” He asked seriously, “Have you swallowed any frogs?”

Damien laughed wildly. “No!”

“No? Well, your mother told me you had a frog in your throat!” Oliver ran the light in front of the boy’s eyes.

“My throat hurts.”

“Well, it might be a frog, yeah? Even if you didn’t swallow it on purpose, sometimes they crawl in there while you’re sleeping and get stuck. Might be why your throat hurts. May I have a look?”

Damien opened his mouth wide.

“Oh, dear,” Oliver shook his head, looking into the boy’s throat, and clicked his tongue, “Definitely a frog. Maybe two. Do your ears hurt?”

“Yes.”

“Let me have a look then,” Oliver waited for the boy to turn his head, and then checked his ear, “Pesky frogs! They’ve gotten into your ears, too, Lad!”

Damien looked shocked.

“No worries,” Ollie checked the other ear, and then fingered the glands in the boy’s neck, “We have anti-frog serum we can give you. Some other doctors might tell your mother that you have a sinus and a double ear infection, but I won’t lie. It’s definitely frogs.” Damien’s mother laughed. “Let me have a quick listen to you breathe,” Oliver popped on his stethoscope and pressed it to the boy‘s chest,, “Very good, Lad!” He turned back to the mother, “We’ll give him an antibiotic,” He pulled his pad out of his lab coat pocket and began to scribble on it, “And something for pain. Clear liquids, lots of rest. He’ll be good as new in no time.”

“Thank you,” The woman took the paper from his hand.

“No worries. In the meantime, Damien,” He looked serious once more, “Take your anti-frog serum and try to sleep with your mouth closed tonight. Your mum can spray the house for frogs in the morning and you shouldn’t have any more problems.” Ollie patted his head and grinned. “Go home now! Eat your vegetables!”

That was my Oliver. He had a way of always knowing what to say to make someone feel better. He was born to be a doctor. He was born to be a dad. He’d come home from the office after a day of dealing with children from morning to afternoon and would have ours out in the garden in a flash. He’d be keeping track of Nigel, who was constantly running, have Carolena by a hand and Natalie in his other arm, walking and telling them all about the wood.

“Fawlie” Was one of Nigel’s first words. He said it as he bobbed up and down pointing at the faerie circle.

“Yes,” Alexander told him. “Faeries! That’s where they live!”

“Fawlie div!” Nigel shouted, “Dud!” He added and hit Alex hard in the face, “Dud!” He shouted and hit him again.

“Yes, Nigel, I’m your dad. Don’t hit people. It’s not nice.”

The Alexander I met at fifteen would have run away screaming if he had seen that scene coming. But the Alexander from those days was very different from the man standing before me now. Xander had become quite serious since Melissa left. He reminded us a bit too much of Edmond at times, but he had Oliver and I to take the piss out of him when he got to be too much. Once, when I was trying to have a snowball fight with him and he wasn’t being any fun at all, I managed to knock him on to the ground and shove one down the front of his blue jeans, tucking it nicely in the crotch of his pants. He retaliated by picking me up and pitching me into a drift. The sour puss. Oliver was always dumping glasses of water over Alex’s head, but the best was when Xander wouldn’t snap out of a bad mood one night and Oliver wrestled him to the floor and shoved chips up his nose.

“You bastard!” Alexander pulled them out when his brother finally let him up, “I’ll take these and make you eat them now!”

Oliver tried to escape, but Alex caught him by the his pullover and spun him around. He grabbed his brother by the head and tried to force them into his mouth, but Ollie managed to trip him and they both dropped to the floor. Alex still had Oliver’s head trapped under his arm. “Eat them! Eat the bogey flavoured chips, Oliver!” He smashed them into the side of his brother’s mouth.

“I’ll shove them up your arse!” Oliver swore through clenched lips, giggling as he struggled to escape the vice-like grip.

“Then they’ll taste even better, won’t they? Bogey-arse flavoured chips! Eat them!” Pop! He slapped his brother's cheek. Pop! Pop!

Oliver managed to pull away. Wiping his face with one hand, he lunged at Alex, who caught him around the waist and slammed him sideways on to the floor. The house shook as they began to wrestle, rolling about on the floor, punching each other and laughing like children.