37. Jamie
Thanks to the Whiskey I consumed, my head is banging this morning and it’s not helped by my mother tapping repeatedly on my bedroom door.
“Come in,”
I call out with a sleep ravaged voice.
There’s worry in her eyes, followed by what I can only describe as relief.
“What’s up, is Charlie, okay?”
My first thoughts are that something is wrong with Charlie’s girlfriend, they’ve just found out she’s pregnant and I know the early days are when things can go wrong.
Mum quickly shakes her head in response, “No, no, Jo is fine, she’s even got a little bump already,”
there’s a glint in my mother’s eyes when she speaks of what will be her first grandchild.
“Did you open my cooking Whiskey last night?”
She’s direct and straight to the point.
A groan leaves my lips before I have a chance to school myself against it.
“Yes, but I only had a couple of glasses, don’t worry.”
I push myself up to sit and offer her a smile.
“Come and tell me all the baby news,”
I pat the mattress beside me but I don’t miss that she hesitates to come any nearer.
“You’ve drunk over half the bottle, that’s not a couple of glasses.”
Mum steps over the threshold and into my room.
“Did something happen?”
she asks tentatively.
“No. Yes,”
a strangled noise leaves my mouth before I continue.
“One of the grandparents at training last night had a heart attack.
I had to do CPR.”
Nothing could have prepared me for the gasp that my mother emitted as she clasped her hand to her chest.
“Oh my God, sweetie.
I’m so sorry.
Did you manage to save him?”
her hand reaches out to grasp mine as she comes to sit beside me on the bed.
“That must have been so hard for you.”
“I don’t know how he is, Mike said he’ll let me know when the family gets in touch.
The young lad was clung to him, begging me to do something,”
a rogue tear escapes and I swiftly sweep it away.
“Anyway, the ambulance was pretty quick and they got him to the hospital.
I freaked out a bit afterwards and needed a drink.”
I can see the worry escalating in my mother so I add, “Don’t worry, it was just a couple of drinks.
I’m not in the same place I was a few weeks ago.”
She nods as she breathes out a sigh of relief, “Drink isn’t always the answer though,”
when I go to butt in, she holds her hand up to halt me.
“I’m not lecturing you.
I just want to help you figure out your way back.
I’m scared you’ll go too far again and I’ll lose you, too.
I don’t know how best to help you; I’ve never dealt with anyone with depression before or this trauma response, it’s all new and very frightening for me.
I just hope you know that I’ll always be here for you.”
Reaching forwards, I pull her into a hug and squeeze her tightly.
“I tried to ring Scarlett a few times but she’s not answering my calls, can’t say I blame her really.”
I mutter over my mum’s shoulder.
“I thought if I could speak to her, I’d be able to talk through it all and make sense of it.
It hurt when she didn’t answer but I’ve only got myself to blame.
I hurt her a lot, and I swear I’ll do whatever it takes to make it up to her.”
My mother frees herself from my grasp and holds me at arm’s length, “She’s gone on holiday with Rachel.
Julie told me the other day but asked me not to tell you, they’re worried about her and didn’t want you getting in touch until Scarlett’s ready to talk to you.”
Her voice is apologetic and I’m pretty sure the look on my face tells her how devastated I am.
“I should have told you,”
She looks down at her lap as she speaks quietly.
“I didn’t know what to do for the best, so…”
“Don’t apologise, it’s my own fault.
I just needed to hear her voice last night.
But I get why she doesn’t want to talk to me.”
My mother huffs out a breath, “You see, that’s why you shouldn’t get in touch with her.”
Mum waits a heartbeat to assess my reaction and when she’s met with my confusion she carries on.
“Scarlett isn’t there for you to use as an emotional crutch to get through the bad times, however hard that is for me to say, and for you to hear.
She deserves more than that, son.”
Internally, I collapse.
The realisation of what I’ve done hits hard, proving Dr Monroe right all those weeks ago.
“I… That’s not…”
my breathing has become erratic and laboured.
My mother places her hand on my cheek, “Breathe, Jamie.”
The calmness in her voice centres me, and my shoulders relax, allowing air to enter my lungs freely.
“I know that was never your intention, but that’s what’s happened.
I’m just as much to blame as anyone, though.”
There’s a sadness in her voice now as she speaks.
“I was just so happy that you two were finally seeing each other, that I pushed aside the fact that it was too soon for both of you.
My baby boy was happy again, you were smiling and enjoying life, at least that’s what I thought.
Now, I can see it wasn’t the right time.
You need to make sure your feelings for Scarlett are real, in a romantic sense I mean.
If they are, then you have a lot of work to do to gain her forgiveness.”
“When does she get back?”
My mother’s words haven’t fallen on deaf ears, far from it.
They’ve given me the metaphorical slap that I needed.
“Tomorrow, I think, but you can’t expect her to speak to you.
You need to give her time, love.
And I’m not sure how long she’s going to need, you’ll have to let her heal first.”
Mum stands and brushes down her dress, smoothing out the creases it’s gained from sitting on the bed.
“Now, get up and showered.
You stink,”
she winks at me before she walks towards my bedroom door.
“And then maybe you should ring Mike, find out how that man is doing.
If it’s bad news, we’ll deal with it together.”
She pulls the door closed and heads downstairs.
As I step out of the shower my phone rings.
Mike’s name flashes on the screen and I scramble to answer it.
“Hey, how are you doing today?”
His voice is deep and confident.
I spend a moment trying to decide if there’s any hint of sadness within in his tone.
I’m not sure there is but I’m not taking anything for granted.
“Is there any news on Ben?”
I ask, dismissing that he asked how I was doing.
There’s a lightness in Mike’s voice as he answers, “It was quite a bad heart attack apparently, but he’s stable and on a ward now,”
all of the air rushes from my lungs as relief washes over me and joy flushes my veins.
“Josh’s mum rang this morning; it was touch and go for a while she said but when she rang the ward this morning he was eating breakfast.
She asked me to thank you for all that you did.”
“I didn’t do anything; it was the paramedics that saved him.
But I’m glad he’s okay.
Did she say how Josh is?”
Gratitude doesn’t sit well with me; it never has done.
“You did more than you think, and you were calm in the moment.
That helped Josh massively.
She said he didn’t want to leave the hospital last night until he knew how his grandad was.
Can you imagine having to tell your child that someone they loved and looked up had died?”
I can almost hear Mike shudder.
“Thankfully, it was good news.
Anyway, if you’re not up to the match on Saturday, don’t worry.
It’s a home game, I can tell the lads you’re not well or something.”
Reneging on my responsibilities is not a part of my make-up.
The Army beat that into us over the years.
We had a responsibility not only to ourselves, but to everyone on our team.
Lives depended on us.
“Thanks, but I’ll be there on Saturday.”