After The Storm

After The StormTom had never been one to call a spade anything but a spade and there were time when he wished he wasn’t so outspoken; people he found, rarely cared for that brand of honesty. He sat reluctantly outside the swing doors of the Intensive Care Ward and waited impatiently. Just having to be there was bad enough without being forced to wait in a draughty corridor. Glancing at his watch, without noticing what it said, he wondered if his wife Sheila would be long. He stared at the doors to the ward through which came the pulsating bleep of some piece of high tech and his eyes travelled on the wings of his imagination to Ethel’s bedside.Ethel was his mother-in-law, the epitome of every joke ever cracked on the subject. Tom had never taken to her and had sensed that the antipathy was mutual; they were too much alike in many ways. Ethel was down to earth but what irked him the most was the way in which she ran her family as though they were all still dependant children despite the fact that they were all married with youngsters of their own. He felt more than a qualm at having to visit her; he had not seen her since the big bust up two years ago. Sheila still went to the compulsory Sunday teas but he did not. Not any more. Just listening to Ethel gabbling on was more than he could comfortably bear. Anyway, the argument had spared that ordeal; he was no longer expected to visit and that was why he objected, albeit mildly under the circumstances, to this visit to the hospital. Sure the old bat had had a massive heart attack, and he was sympathetic, but whose fault was it? Certainly not his. If she had concentrated more on her own life instead of the goings on of her five daughters she would never have come under so much stress.Sheila’s heels echoed over the polished tiles of the corridor but he barely registered them as his mind carried him back to that last stand with Ethel. Forty quid had gone missing from the tin that she kept her catalogue payments in. It had happened at one of those Sunday get togethers and he had been blamed because, when he was younger, he had been in a bit of trouble with the law. Anyone in the house could have taken it but the finger had been pointed at him. A lot had been said, most of untrue, and all of it too loudly. He had stormed out after showing that his pockets were empty but Ethel had had the final word by saying that he must have stashed it outside somewhere."Why haven’t you gone in?"He looked up at his wife. "Are you kidding?""Anybody with her now?""Your Carol I think.""Come on then," Sheila took his hand, "let’s get it over with."As they strode together on to the ward Carol stood up at the sight of Tom. Sheila’s eyes anxiously took in the complicated apparatus connected to her mother. The ECG blipped with a regularity that should have been soothing. Tom ignored his sister-in-law and looked down at the old woman. She appeared tranquil; her eyes were closed and her face so relaxed that the lines around her mouth and eyes were less harsh than he remembered."Are the others here yet?" Carol sounded choked."They’re on their way up," Sheila answered none too warmly."Here they are now," Tom almost groaned as the sisters entered and flocked around the bed. A nurse came across and drew the curtains round them. The sound of his voice caused Ethel to open her eyes. She smiled when Tom returned her gaze uncertainly. He did not smile back. Her mouth began to work but no sound came out; Sheila gave her a sip of water."It’s good to see you Tom. I’m glad you came." Tom nodded but his expression showed his indifference. "I hoped you’d come," she continued in a weak voice. "I’m not long for this world." She paused to gain a little strength. Two of her daughters began to sob. "I did you a big wrong, lad. I know that you didn’t take that money. Carol told me it wasn’t you."Tom’s eyes flashed at Carol who burst into tears. Her words were barely audible through her sobs."It was me, Tom. I took it. I needed it for the kids."Tom stood up and turned his back; he could feel his anger rising and this was no place for a blow-out. Carol rushed out of the ward with Sheila hot on her heels. She to had gone through a lot over the past two years with skits and black looks. When someone left the room they had always made a point of taking their handbag with them; it had been as bad for her as it had been for Tom. No way was she going to let Carol get away with it. Tom took a step to follow."Don’t go yet, Tom." For the first time he heard a pleading note in her voice. He turned to her and saw tears streaming down her cheeks. She held out a hand to him. "Come here, lad." He took her hand and sat on the edge of the bed. "You know, we were always too much alike to really get on, almost like we came from the same mould." She squeezed his fingers. "Maybe that’s why I always looked on you like the son I never had."Tom felt the hate, the cold hate he had nurtured at such cost to himself, begin to fade a little."I had to make my peace with you, Tom. Don’t worry about Sheila and Carol. They’ll have their words and clear the air. Nothing more will come of it. I’ve told our Carol what’s expected of her. And she’ll do it."Even on her deathbed she was still in command of her girls. Tom looked down at her, struggling to find something to say. Nothing came to mind so he leaned over and kissed her forehead. Ethel smiled."Go get my girls for me now Tom." He gave her a lingering look. There was no way he could forgive her but, if it meant so much, he could pretend. He slipped out to find his wife and sister-in-law.