The One Hundred Years of Lenni and Margot by Marianne Cronin (e reader books txt) 📗
- Author: Marianne Cronin
Book online «The One Hundred Years of Lenni and Margot by Marianne Cronin (e reader books txt) 📗». Author Marianne Cronin
The next morning, I drove over to the care home. ‘Just bruising’ was the verdict. But I felt betrayed. He’d promised me we would never get that old. And now he needed help bathing, he needed to have a bath with a door in it.
The nurse, who seemed far too young to be a nurse and had covered her cardigan in badges for various charities, led me to The Field. ‘This is his favourite space,’ she said.
‘I know.’ I tried to smile, but it felt like my face was trying to do something it had never done.
‘So, just to warn you, his leg has a bandage and we are keeping it elevated to bring down the swelling, but other than that he’s fit as a flea.’ She smiled and held the door open for me.
He was looking out of the window, his leg, as promised, elevated on three cushions, and his shin bandaged up.
I sat beside him.
‘Darling. How are you? They told me about the fall,’ I said.
He turned to me. ‘Everyone saw my penis!’
And then he burst out laughing and I laughed too.
Following three rounds of dominoes, in which he was almost certainly cheating, I felt the need to lean forward and kiss his cheek. It had lost some of its sponginess, but it was still him.
‘You won’t forget, will you?’ he asked. ‘Our promise?’
I pulled my chair closer to him and put my hand on his.
‘I won’t.’
‘I’m serious, Margot, I don’t want you here when I’m gone. Why should you have to sit here when I’m not here any more?’
‘I know. I remember.’
‘And you promise?’
‘I signed the contract, didn’t I?’
‘I’m serious.’
‘I promise.’
‘You know I love you,’ he said. ‘You’re my stars, Margot.’
‘I love you too.’
Then he leant back, stretching out his toes in the socks that I’d bought him the Christmas before.
‘Have you heard from her, from …?’
‘From who?’
‘Your friend from London, Jeremy’s mother? Oh, what’s her name!’
‘Oh, Meena?’
‘Yes, yes, have you heard from Meena?’
‘The last I heard was this Christmas. She sent me a letter – Jeremy’s eighteenth birthday was a success. He’s started going to university classes run by an international school.’
‘And is she well?’
‘I think so.’
‘You should write to her,’ he said.
Try as I might, I have no memory of what we did the rest of the day, or even of saying goodbye, because it’s blended in with all my other visits and all the other goodbyes. Sometimes I try to trick myself into remembering, to observe the day casually from the side, trying to get it to roll itself around and reveal to me what we did or said when the visit came to an end. But I can’t.
That night I had seen a shooting star and I had to tell him about it to his face.
As a treat, the next day I made him some carrot cake. I rarely visited two days in a row, so I hoped to surprise him.
The nurse was wearing the same cardigan as the day before.
‘You’ll never guess where he is,’ she said with a smile.
‘The Field?’
He was sitting in the same spot as the day before, a new pair of socks on show and his leg still elevated on cushions. It was quiet and calm and the sun was warming the carpet. He was staring out of the window across the field.
I sat beside him.
‘Hello,’ I said.
He started.
‘Hallo!’ he said warmly.
‘I’m sorry I scared you,’ I said.
‘Not at all.’
‘I thought you might like some carrot cake.’ I pulled the cake box out of my bag.
‘Thank you,’ he said, ‘carrot cake is one of my favourites.’
‘I know.’
‘How did you know that?’
‘You told me.’
‘I did?’ He frowned.
‘Here,’ I said, as I cut a slice and placed it on the picnic plate I’d brought. I was playing for time.
He took it, looking at me quizzically.
‘How’s your leg?’
He peered down at it, as though he had never seen the bandage before.
‘Do you know, I haven’t the foggiest!’
‘I …’
‘And, if you don’t mind my asking, I’m having the hardest time placing you.’
I fell about a thousand feet. But somehow remained sitting.
‘I’m Margot,’ I said.
‘Margot.’ He toyed with my name in his mouth, no light of recognition to lead him home. ‘What a great name.’
‘Thank you,’ I said. My heart was beating so fast my chest was shaking.
‘How do I know you, Margot?’ he asked.
‘Oh, we’re old friends.’
‘We are? I’m terribly sorry,’ he said. ‘How rude of me not to remember!’
‘It’s okay,’ I said, ‘it was a long time ago that we met.’ That part, at least, was true. ‘But it’s okay, I was looking for someone else.’
‘Anyone special?’
‘My other half,’ I said.
I could feel the tears forming in my eyes so I put down the carrot cake and I stood in front of him. I took his beloved cheeks in my hands and I looked him in the eye.
‘I made you a promise,’ I told him.
He smiled kindly, though there was a hint of confusion there. And I made a memory of those bright eyes and the feeling of his warm face between my hands. And I kissed him, on the lips, for quite some time, and to my surprise I felt him kiss me back. Even when lost, he was still the kind of man to seize a chance when it came to him. And then I told him.
‘Goodbye, Humphrey James. It was truly wonderful to meet you.’
And he smiled at me oddly.
‘Oh,’ he said, as I reached the door, ‘who was it you were looking for?’
‘My love,’ I said, trying to wipe the tears from my cheeks so he wouldn’t notice I was crying.
‘Well,’ he said, ‘I’m sure you’ll find him … or her.’
‘Thank you.’
‘Keep an eye on the skies tonight,’ he said. ‘It’s a once-in-a-lifetime astral event.’
I had to leave right in that moment or I’d never go, and in doing so I’d break the
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