Page 27 of Waiting for a Bright New Future

There was a brief silence while Stuart remembered. He swirled the wine around in his glass and then looked up at Jayne. “Very little that I did was magnificent. Actually, probably nothing was magnificent.”

“That’s not what Mum said. She said you did everything for him.”

“I did.” He wanted to be honest with Jayne, even if it felt like admitting to a form of criminal neglect. “But a lot of the time I was short-tempered. Sometimes I cut corners. All of the time I was resentful.”

Jayne’s expression fell. “There’s no hope for me then. I’m still the impatient fool I was in the sixth form. I don’t relish the thought of wiping my mum’s bum or attending Music for Memories at the community centre. Or spooning mush into a dribbling mouth.”

“There are lots of good care homes around. I could help you choose.”

“Mum would hate that. She’d much prefer being looked after at home by people she already knows. I owe that to her after what she did for Gran. Besides, she’s my mum.” There was a catch in Jayne’s voice. “I can’t just send her away like an unwanted parcel.”

This time Stuart put his hand over Jayne’s and gave it a squeeze. “Don’t take on too much for too long, like I did. Compromise is needed. On both sides.”

“But when the dementia properly takes hold, she won’t understand the concept of compromise. All she’ll see is my rejection.” Jayne swallowed and blinked. “I don’t want her left muttering in a corner by herself.”

“It won’t be like that.” Stuart wanted to reassure her and take away the fear of what was to come. But he couldn’t. He was lucky — he’d escaped the burden of dementia. Jayne was going to be hit with a double whammy. “Perhaps you could keep her at home but have carers coming in? It would be cheaper than a care home and keep Lillian where she’s happy.”

Jayne sighed and had a mouthful of wine before she spoke again. “This is when being an only child is difficult. It’s all down to me.”

“It’s worse when you’ve got siblings muscling in on the decisions but shying away from taking any of the practical crap themselves.”

“Mum said that Robert and George hardly showed their faces but managed to walk away with the house. You could fight it, you know?”

Stuart shrugged. “Time’s short. I need to start living my life. I don’t want to go back over all the injustices that have got me to this point.”

“Maybe no siblingsisbetter.”

The wine had mellowed him and this pooling of concerns made him feel closer to Jayne. The years were rolling back. “I’m always here if you need help. Someone to bounce ideas off or even something practical.”

“That is so kind of you.” Her face brightened and Stuart saw a hint of the mischievous energy of eighteen-year-old Jayne. “Do you remember the round of post-A-level house parties?”

“David Bowie.”

“‘Let’s Dance’.”

“UB40.”

“‘Red Red Wine’.” Stuart squeezed her hand again and suggested releasing the Arctic roll from the freezer.

Jayne shook her head and indicated they move to the settee. It was much later when Jayne eventually stood up to leave. They lingered over a kiss in Stuart’s hallway.

“It’s so much easier to conduct a relationship when you don’t have to skulk around like teenagers,” Jayne whispered. “And I wish I’d married you in the first place. You are far, far better for me than Carl.”

There was a lump in his throat and he couldn’t respond. He watched until Jayne was safely inside her own front door. Then he punched the air. “She wants me!”

Chapter Sixteen

The next morning, Stuart had barely returned from William’s when there was a tapping at the kitchen door. Lillian was smiling and waving through the window.

“Jayne was actually humming this morning as she got ready for work and smiling like all her Christmases had come at once,” the old lady said when Stuart let her in.

“Why?”

“Oh, Stuart. It’s obvious. Something good happened between the two of you last night. Whatever you did, it worked. Jayne is in love.”

“Really?” He’d intuited that she’d enjoyed herself. But the phrase ‘in love’ was a shock. “It was all a bit of a mess-up when she arrived and she didn’t want pudding.”

“Stop putting yourself down.” Lillian pulled a chair out and sat down. “In ten years’ time, you and Jayne will look back and laugh at whatever hiccups there were. This morning she is on cloud nine and I thought you should know. Now, are you putting that kettle on or do I have to do it myself? And I’ve brought us a piece of lemon drizzle each.” She placed a foil-wrapped parcel on the table.

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