Page 61 of A Part of Me and You
‘That’s French,’ she corrects me and I shrug. What’s a language blooper between friends?
We tuck in to our taste of Italy in front of the evening’s soap operas and just after our food has settled and the plates almost licked after a day at sea, and when we are totally assured there is nothing more on the TV that catches our attention, Rosie makes her excuse to use the bathroom. I take this as my cue, just as we had arranged and when she comes back in, I am all ready for action.
‘What the …?’
Juliette looks confused and when Rosie presses play on her iPod and Prince’s ‘Kiss’ rocks through the living room, we are all in stitches laughing. Rosie is dressed in neon pink leggings, a ‘Choose Life’ t-shirt which I had kept from my days at roller discos in the north, obligatory yellow leg warmers and a Toyah Wilcox style spikey wig. She takes her mother’s hands and gently pulls her up off the sofa.
‘Come on, Mum!’ shouts Rosie. ‘This is another of your favourite things!’
‘Man, I loved Prince!’ shouts Juliette. ‘Turn it up!’
And I do just that.
You don’t have to be richthey sing at the top of their voices and as they dance, I take in the joy on their faces and my heart melts when they hold hands. Finally, I take notice of their feet as they dance together to the music, laughing and singing and dancing like no one is watching. The music booms through the air, leaving no room for any other sound and Juliette, as physically difficult as it seems to be after such a long day, is really giving it her all as she boogies along with her baby girl.
‘Kiss!’ they shout together and punch the air as if it was rehearsed, then Juliette pulls Rosie in for a hug. She gives her a big kiss on the cheek and Rosie does the same back.
Once again, I feel that old familiar twinge when I think that this could have been me with my own mother a few years into the past, or me and my Lily a few years into the future, if life wasn’t so cruel. And life is being cruel here too, I remind myself. As happy as this moment is, every day I see them together will always be tinged with sadness at what is still to come.
The song choice moves on to some retro Madonna with ‘Papa Don’t Preach’ and Juliette whoops with delight, then swaps her own wig with Rosie’s more exciting version and they beckon me to join them with Juliette taking the TV remote control as her makeshift microphone.
‘I had no idea what this song was about when it was released!’ she bellows over the music. ‘But I freakin’ loved it!’
Rosie bops along beside me, enjoying every moment whether she knows the songs or not.
‘Good job, DJ!’ I mouth to her with a thumbs-up and she looks up at her mum who is totally lost in the music and I see the tears glisten in Rosie’s eyes.
They are dancing together with sheer freedom, this dying woman in her pyjamas and a punk style wig and her teenage daughter who has totally jumped into character just to make her mother laugh and sing out loud.
She is seeing Juliette as a person in her own right now, and not just her dying mother. She is seeing a person with a past, with old memories that came before Rosie existed, a person with hopes and dreams that were formed before she was even born. I wish I had taken the time to recognize my own mother as just that.
But most of all I wished we had danced together just like Rosie and Juliette are doing right now here in front of me. And even better, I wish that someone would have captured it on camera so that I could treasure it forever, just like I have done for these two beautiful people who have done more for my healing than they will ever know. I hit record and catch every moment of it and I can’t wait to see their faces when they look back on it. A perfect memory of happy times, for Rosie to hold on to and cherish forever and for Juliette to smile back on for however long she has left in this life.
Chapter 19
Juliette
WEDNESDAY
‘It’s just a headache; I really don’t want any fuss, Helen,’ I say to my sister.
‘It’s not just a headache, though is it!’ she replies. ‘Tell me the truth. When did this start? Yesterday? The day before? When?’
I knew she would panic.
‘We’re on holiday and I probably just got over-excited yesterday, wanting to make the boat trip special for Rosie, and itwasspecial,’ I say to Helen who has phoned to find me curled up in bed in the cottage with the blinds and curtains closed. Rosie has gone to take Merlin for a walk as was agreed with Shelley when she left us last night after our hilarious ‘80s disco, which was so much fun. As much as I don’t want to admit it to anyone, the headache that started on the boat yesterday is now getting worse and it’s scaring the life out of me.
‘Should I ring Michael?’ my sister asks me, her voice trembling with panic from across the Irish Sea. ‘He could maybe arrange for a doctor there to see you. Oh, Jules this is a nightmare with you being so far away like this.’
‘Don’t say I told you so,’ I warn her amicably. ‘I don’t need any lectures right now.’
‘I won’t lecture you but I am going out of my mind now with worry. How bad is the pain on a scale of one to ten?’
I can sense my sister’s urgency but I really don’t want to raise the alarm. It has to pass. It can’t be happening so fast, not like this, not here, not now when I’m on my own with Rosie. I need to see Dan. I need to see Helen again and my mum and dad and my nephews. I can’t just die here alone with my daughter, no, please don’t make it happen like this. I’m terrified. Perhaps I’m over-reacting? Dr Michael said it wouldn’t happen so fast, didn’t he? He wouldn’t have told me to go away for a few days otherwise. I can’t be dying so quickly, no. It’s just a bad day. I’m just having a bad day after all the excitement of being here.
‘Seven right now, but let me see how I feel after a few hours’ rest,’ I tell my sister, adamant not to let this get to me or admit to her what might really be happening. ‘It could just be seasickness and exhaustion. We’ve packed a lot in so far but I so wanted to take Rosie into Galway today and do some shopping. I just know that she would love to hear the buskers and buy some nice new clothes. I can’t ruin this for her, Helen, not now when she is enjoying herself so much. I’ve never seen her so animated and she’s really taken to this place just as I hoped she would. She loves it.’
I can hear Helen’s boys in the background and I get a pang of homesickness that is almost worse than the pain going through my weary mind. I long for Dan, for how he used to be when he was strong and caring and loving and able to cope with my down days, when my illness would take over and he’d have to down tools and tell me that I was going to be okay.
