Chapter 38 Angus
The Life Experiment: Daily Questionnaire
Property of OPM Discoveries
What are two things you are grateful for today?
Layla making a shit time less shit
The distraction of Hugo’s House
What are you struggling with today?
My mother not telling me about her cancer. I knew we weren’t close, but this is a whole new level of dismissal
Do you have any additional notes on what you would like to discuss in your upcoming counselling session?
Hugo again. I hadn’t realised how much his death still impacts me, but now I’ve scratched the surface, I keep being reminded of it. I don’t know how to process it all
The bouquet filled Angus’s arms. The flowers hadn’t smelled quite so pungent in the florist, but in the confined lift of the hospital, their scent clogged the air.
They were an over-the-top gesture, Angus thought as he saw his reflection in the lift’s mirrored door, but he hadn’t known what else to do when he’d heard the news.
After two days of constant worry and bedside vigils, Angus finally received the news that Gilly’s fever had broken.
She was awake and lucid. The moment felt like it needed marking, but what to buy someone who was in hospital?
Flowers felt more appropriate than something like grapes, Angus had surmised when he ventured out for a gift.
Now, though, walking through the white-washed walls of the hospital, the choice seemed foolish.
Flowers might look beautiful, but in a few days they would wilt and rot, a reminder of the imminent presence of death.
Gilly might have won this battle, but she hadn’t won the war. Far from it.
Angus had spent the last few days googling ovarian cancer. He’d read about treatments and prognoses and survival rates. He’d petrified himself, then calmed himself, then petrified himself all over again.
In that time, Peter finally told Angus the hidden truths of the last few months. Angus learned that Gilly had undergone surgery to remove her ovaries and fallopian tubes earlier in the year. Disguised as a two-week health retreat, the surgery had been a success.
Then the chemotherapy began. Gilly was partway through treatment, but it was taxing. Her body was weak. She was tired.
The revelation cast Gilly’s protests about Hugo’s House in a new light. She had wanted to shield herself from more talk of death, hospitals and pain. Understandable, really. But no one had trusted Angus enough to tell him.
Clutching the flowers tighter, Angus made his way to his mother’s room. Well-designed and exclusively for Gilly, it was as comfortable as people might expect from a private hospital. But even with its calming décor, there was no denying that it was still a hospital.
Through the glass door, Angus studied Gilly.
She lay in bed, looking out of the window.
She looked sick. So sick that the temptation to run beckoned Angus, but Gilly must have sensed his presence.
Turning, she raised an eyebrow. Angus entered the room before she could see the trepidation in his eyes.
‘You seem better today,’ he commented as he moved towards the bed.
‘That’s because I am better,’ Gilly said, sitting up with a struggle.
‘I brought these for you,’ he said, thrusting the flowers forward.
‘Of course you did. They were hardly for the nurses, were they?’
Tension twanged in the air. Angus didn’t know if the comment was a joke or a barb. It was hard to tell when Gilly’s sarcasm often verged on insulting. And now the secret of her illness had been outed without her consent, Gilly was more prickly than usual.
Resting the flowers on the bedside table, Angus took a seat beside Gilly’s bed.
‘Aren’t you going to decant them into water?’ she asked, nodding at the flowers. ‘There’s a jug over there you can use.’
‘Would you like me to?’
‘I would like you to do whatever you feel you need to, Angus.’
A flare twitched at Angus’s nostrils. He didn’t understand it. How could Gilly be so cold and obstinate, even in this moment? He was there, wasn’t he? He was there even when she had tried to make it so he couldn’t be.
Anger pushed Angus to reach for the flowers. The fury in his movements made Gilly smile. ‘There, I knew we’d get emotion out of you somehow,’ she said.
Angus’s bones locked. ‘What?’
‘You’re as taught as a drum, Angus. Let it out. You’re clearly angry with me.’
‘I have every right to be,’ Angus retorted.
‘That’s one way of looking at things,’ Gilly said, but as she performed her usual dismissive sniff, something inside Angus cracked.
‘You’re not serious, are you? You don’t think I have a right to be upset in all of this?’
‘I think you have a right to feel however you want, Angus, but I also have a right to feel how I feel. Do you think I want everyone knowing that I sleep in a cold cap to try to stop my hair from falling out? That I can’t keep food down?
That I’m terribly sick? I don’t need to hear people say how sorry they are, then go home and have a good old gossip behind my back. ’
Angus shook his head in disbelief. ‘But I’m not “people”, Mother. I’m your son!’
‘Yes, my son who should be throwing all his effort into his new venture, not sat by a hospital bed talking about the weather.’
Angus’s eyes locked on Gilly’s. ‘That’s it, isn’t it? That’s the real issue. You don’t want me here.’
‘Angus, don’t be absurd. I want you to be wherever you want to be.’
It took everything in Angus not to scream. ‘There is nothing absurd about it! It’s the truth. It’s always been the truth. You’ve never wanted me around, ever! You sent me away to boarding school as soon as you could.’
‘As soon as I could? Angus, you were eleven!’
‘An eleven-year-old who had just lost his brother! Then a few weeks later, he lost his home and his family.’ Fire flashed in Gilly’s eyes, but Angus was angry too.
‘What, when Hugo died, did you want to check out of being a parent altogether? Was leaving me at boarding school easier than admitting that I was the son you didn’t want? ’
‘It was for the best.’ Gilly spoke through gritted teeth, but her reaction only made Angus scoff.
‘Sure, because every grieving child wants to be shuttled off to a strange place miles away from home.’
‘It was for your own good!’ Gilly shrieked.
The pain in her voice hit Angus like a slap.
He backed away from the raw emotion, but Gilly held Angus in her gaze.
‘Do you think I wanted the one child I had left to be removed from my care? No, not at all, but you deserved better than a mother who couldn’t get out of bed.
You were only a child back then, Angus. You won’t remember what it was like, but I do.
After we lost Hugo, I couldn’t even get dressed.
I couldn’t eat. I lost so much weight I was hospitalised, did you know that? ’
Swallowing hard, Angus shook his head.
‘I didn’t want you to see me like that. I couldn’t be the mother you deserved, never mind the one you wanted.
So, I did what any mother would do – I protected you.
I sent you away and shielded you from the worst of it because I loved you.
’ Raising her bony hand to her chest, Gilly beat it against her heart as she spoke. ‘I. Love. You. Angus.’
With the thud of her words ringing in his ears, Angus’s shoulders caved, but Gilly shook her head.
‘Don’t you dare fold in on yourself. Don’t you dare shy away from what I am saying.
I love you, Angus. My God, I love every hair on your head.
I love you in all the times you mess up and all the times you struggle to like yourself.
I know I don’t show it in the way you expect.
Trust me, I am well aware of my shortcomings, but guess what?
Love doesn’t always look like it does in films. It isn’t running through airports to stop a plane, but make no mistake, Angus – I love you. Always have. Always will.’
As Gilly’s breath hitched, Angus reached for her hand. ‘Stop. It’s okay. I’m sorry I shouted,’ he tried to protest, but Gilly shook her head.
‘No, Angus, clearly you need to hear this. Love isn’t just the big things, it’s the little things too.
It’s listening to your son say he wanted a bike and visiting every bike shop south of the Thames to find the right one.
It’s sending him chicken soup to eat when he’s ill, even though he’s a fully grown adult.
Your whole life, I’ve listened to every whim, every flight of fancy, every dream you ever had.
You may not realise it, but I’ve moved mountains to make you happy, and I will continue to for as long as I can. That is love, Angus.’
Leaning his head against his mother’s hands, Angus fought to steady himself. ‘I love you too,’ he croaked. ‘I’m sorry I don’t always show it.’
‘For goodness’ sake, Angus, we’re Fairview-Whitleys,’ Gilly said, sniffing once more. ‘We don’t give into ridiculous displays of affection.’
Choking on a laugh, Angus gripped his mother’s hand tightly. To his surprise, she held his just as tight.