Beth
Beth
The final day of rehearsals for her own show. Opening night is just four days away. The last few weeks have been a joyful, life-affirming blur. She can’t quite articulate what it means to her to be doing this, to be creating something raw and brutal and real. But it brings her immense satisfaction.
They’re rehearsing in one of her favourite spaces, just by Southwark tube station. The director, Isobel, is an old friend, and she completely understood the material and what Beth was trying to achieve. When she agreed to take the project on, it felt like a sign, a jigsaw puzzle slotting together by itself.
She feels a sense of peace and contentment: the feeling that, after all these years, she is actually doing something worthwhile. Something that matters.
‘OK,’ Isobel says, when they come to a natural break. ‘Shall we take fifteen?’
Beth leaves the theatre in search of coffee when her phone rings. Nick.
‘Hello,’ she says, surprised. She can’t remember the last time he rang her, especially not this early in the day. ‘How are you?’
‘Hey,’ he says. He sounds upset, downbeat, and she’s immediately worried. ‘Can you talk?’
‘Yes. What’s up?’
‘It’s my mum,’ he says. ‘She’s in hospital. She had a fall and… she’s not in a good way. They can’t quite figure out what’s wrong with her.’
‘Oh no,’ she says. She knows how much Nick’s mother means to him. ‘I’m so sorry. What kind of fall?’
‘She tripped over this fucking stool,’ he says. She doesn’t quite understand the anger directed towards the stool, but she lets him continue. ‘Anyway she thought she’d broken her leg, but she hasn’t, she’s twisted her ankle, cut her forehead and done something to her hip… but more than that, she’s just really disoriented and confused and they’re running all sorts of tests but…’
‘You know she’s in the best possible place,’ Beth says, her voice stern. ‘They will take care of her. They will figure out how best to help her.’
‘It’s not that,’ he says. ‘I know that. It’s just… I feel so guilty because I should have said no. I should have put my foot down sooner.’ He pauses, sighing deeply. ‘The house is a death trap, and I’ve been living with her and I haven’t made the difference I said I would because it’s just been so much easier to bury my head in the sand like I always do, rather than do something, take proper action, force her to get help. I’ve let her down. Again. I always let her down! It’s the same cycle, repeating itself. I move in to try to help her and then the whole thing just suffocates me and I run away again…’
‘Nick, you don’t… you’re not making any sense…’
He gives a loud sniff.
‘Shit,’ he says, after a pause. ‘I’m sorry. I’m really a fucking wreck at the moment. I’ve been in the hospital with her since yesterday… I didn’t get any sleep – just sat next to her bed all night looking at her. She looks so small, so frail. She’s had a shit life and it’s all my fault…’
Beth glances up at the people marching towards the South Bank. Nick begins to sob down the phone. The sound makes Beth’s heart start to shatter.
She realises then: the only other time she’s heard him cry was that night in the park.
‘Nick,’ she says. ‘Listen, please. This is not your fault. None of this is your fault!’
‘It is,’ he says, through his tears. ‘It’s all my fault because if she had never got pregnant with me then my dad would never have left her and everything… Everything in her life would have been different.’
*
As soon as rehearsals end, she races straight to the hospital. It’s only when she’s on the train, checking her phone for the time, that her eyes fall on the date.
Fourteen years ago today. Fate certainly has a sick sense of humour.
And yet, she’d completely forgotten, for the first year. Up until now. She can’t decide whether that’s a good thing or not.
‘We have to stop hanging out like this,’ she jokes, when he comes up to her in the main lobby. ‘In hospitals I mean. It’s starting to feel a bit weird.’
He smiles.
‘I’m sorry I couldn’t get here sooner.’
‘Don’t be silly, I’m sorry I was such a mess earlier. It’s the lack of sleep, it’s a killer.’
She’s relieved to hear him sounding more like his normal self again.
‘Would you like to see her?’ he asks. ‘They’ve moved her onto the general ward. She’s a bit drowsy though.’
Beth is surprised by how tiny Nick’s mother is. How little she looks like him. She looks like a tiny doll, lying in the bed.
‘Hey Mum. This is Beth, do you remember? You’ve met her before, I think. At the wedding.’
‘Hi Jayne,’ Beth says, taking the woman’s hand and squeezing it gently. ‘It’s good to see you again. Sorry to hear about your fall.’
‘It’s my fault,’ Jayne says. ‘Nicky told me not to keep the stool. I didn’t need it. He was right. It got its revenge on me good and proper.’
‘Mum,’ Nick says, sounding exasperated. ‘It was an accident. You’re not to blame.’
Jayne peers up at Beth.
‘It’s lovely to see you, dear,’ she says, shifting on the bed. ‘It’s been a while hasn’t it? Since the wedding? You two made such a lovely couple.’
Beth feels the ripple of horror go through Nick.
‘Oh,’ she begins, but he interrupts.
‘Mum this isn’t Maggie, this is Beth. Beth’s my friend! From university. Maggie and I got divorced, remember?’
Jayne frowns at him.
‘Are you sure?’
‘Christ, Mum, yes of course I’m sure!’
‘Oh I’m sorry. Beth. That’s right.’
Beth feels her armpits grow damp.
‘You’re such a lovely couple. He’s always talking about you. Beth this, Beth that.’ She wrinkles up her nose, as though remembering something. ‘That’s it! Sorry! You’re from the TV, aren’t you, dear? Nick watches all your things. I could never understand why you two couldn’t figure things out. Just timing, I suppose. And you’re away a lot, I expect. With your job. He told me you’ve just written your own play? How wonderful.’
‘I…’ Beth doesn’t know what to say. She stares at Nick. His cheeks are red.
‘Mum, we’re just friends,’ he says, but with less conviction than previously. He stares at Beth.
Beth swallows. Nick has never acknowledged the invite to the opening night of the play she sent him, just a few weeks ago. But he’d clearly told his mother all about it.
‘You must be getting tired,’ she says to Jayne. ‘We’ll let you get some rest.’
Jayne nods, and Beth leans down to kiss her on the cheek.
‘You make sure you take care of yourself,’ Beth says, quietly. ‘He might be a grown man, but your son needs you. He loves you very much.’
Jayne nods, then waves Beth away.
‘I’m sorry about that,’ Nick says, eventually, as they stand outside the hospital. ‘She’s very confused. She keeps forgetting what day of the week it is. I think she’s finding it really difficult to be in hospital. She’s very used to being at home, among her own things.’
Beth bites her lip. Why is he apologising? What exactly is he sorry about?
‘It’s fine,’ she says. ‘Maybe she…’
‘Do you want to come back to mine for a bit?’ Nick interrupts. ‘Perhaps I can show you what we’re up against.’
Beth frowns. She doesn’t understand, but in that moment, she wants to. She wants to more than anything.