Pam Weaver - A Mother’s Gift

‘I’ll get the car,’ said the doctor.

‘It’s your day off,’ Mariah reminded him.

‘Don’t trouble yourself,’ said Dottie at the same time. ‘Jack’s here. He’ll run us over to Heene Road.’

‘I’ll just get my bag,’ Dr Fitzgerald insisted.

Dottie hurried back up the path. She wanted to get into the lorry before the doctor suggested taking her as passenger in the car. Jack was leaning anxiously out of the cab. ‘He’s coming,’ she said, swinging open the door and climbing in beside him.

‘Thank God for that,’ said Jack with feeling.

Dr Fitzgerald followed them to number thirty-four where Jack and Peaches lived. It made Dottie feel uncomfortable knowing that he was right behind them. She’d have to deal with this. She had to find a way of making it clear that his advances were totally unwelcome, and then they would both know where they stood.

‘You will come in with us, won’t you, Dottie?’ said Jack as they pulled up outside.

‘Well …’ Dottie began.

‘Peaches would be glad of a friend.’

When they all got inside the house, Gary was already in bed. Dr Fitzgerald, Peaches and Jack went upstairs and while they were all gone, Dottie busied herself making some tea for when they all came down. After a few minutes, she heard Peaches cry out, ‘Oh no, no!’

Dottie dropped the lid of the teapot and raced upstairs, her heart pounding with fear.

Peaches was sobbing in Jack’s arms. Little Gary was lying very still on the top of his bed while Dr Fitzgerald was pulling down his pyjama top. For one awful second, Dottie feared the worst, but then she saw Gary move his arm very slightly. ‘I’ll go back home and telephone for the ambulance,’ Doctor Fitzgerald was saying.

‘What is it? What’s happened?’ Dottie gasped.

‘I’m going with him,’ said Peaches.

‘I’m afraid that will be impossible, Mrs Smith,’ said Dr Fitzgerald, shaking his head. ‘Not in your condition.’

‘But I’m his mother!’ Peaches wailed.

‘What’s wrong with him?’ said Dottie looking wildly from one to the other.

Dr Fitzgerald closed his bag with a loud snap. ‘I’m not one hundred percent sure,’ he said, ‘but it looks to me like poliomyelitis.’

Billy didn’t have the energy to run all the way back to Aunt Peaches. He was much too tired.

It had been a grand day. Memories of the Punch and Judy show, paddling in the water and that huge ice cream Uncle Jack had given him kept going over and over in his mind. It had been his best day ever. Even better than the day Phil Hartwell let him hold the dead frog his cat had killed.

It was late. It was already way past his bedtime when Mum came back downstairs after she’d put the twins and Susan to bed and said, ‘Run over to your Aunt Peaches and find out how Gary is.’

He’d said, ‘Aw, Mum,’ but he’d known it was no use arguing. Tom looked at him over the top of his evening paper. He didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to: the look was enough. Billy walked as fast as he could all the way there without stopping.

Uncle Jack’s lorry was parked outside the house and the cab door was wide open. The doctor’s car was there too. And right in front of the house, there was an ambulance as well. Billy hung back. If the adults saw him, they’d be bound to send him back home again.

‘This is no place for nippers,’ Uncle Jack would say.

The ambulance door was wide open too. Billy could see the bed and all sorts of boxes and things. He tried imagining what it was like to be an ambulance driver. It was bound to be exciting. He might see squashed people … that would be better than a squashed frog the cat killed any day. He sat down on the kerb and gripped an imaginary steering wheel.

‘Neee-arrr,’ he said as he careered around the corner at top speed to save his patient.

He heard the front door open. Dr Fitzgerald came out with his doctor’s bag and the ambulance man, dressed in his dark uniform and cap, followed him. The ambulance man was carrying someone in his arms. The someone was all wrapped up in a blanket and although Billy couldn’t actually see who it was, judging by the way he was screaming, and the fact that Aunt Peaches was right behind him crying her eyes out, he knew it had to be Gary.

Auntie Dot came out and gave Aunt Peaches a kiss on the cheek. ‘Try not to worry,’ she said. He liked Auntie Dottie a lot. She was nice.

He thought back to the time when they’d paddled in the sea together. He’d been wearing his knitted cossie. Auntie Dottie didn’t have one but she had picked up her skirts and walked into the water until it was right up to her knees. No other grown up had done that. And she hadn’t minded getting wet either. She’d kicked the water all over him and when he’d done the same to her, she didn’t get cross and yell at him. She’d splashed him back and she’d laughed. He liked to hear Auntie Dottie laugh. She didn’t do it very much but when she did, her whole face lit up. He could tell by the anxious look on her face now that she wasn’t very happy.

‘You will stay with him, won’t you?’ Aunt Peaches wailed. ‘He’ll be so frightened.’

‘I’ll stay as long as they let me,’ Auntie Dottie promised. ‘The ambulance man says they have very strict visiting hours, but I’ll be there until they kick me out.’

‘I should be there,’ cried Aunt Peaches. ‘I’m his mother.’

Auntie Dottie hugged her again. ‘You have the little one to think of. Now leave Gary to me. Until he’s back on his feet, I’ll be his mum.’

Aunt Peaches blew her nose in her hanky. ‘I don’t know what I’d do without you, Dottie.’

‘Don’t be daft,’ smiled Dottie. ‘What are friends for?’

Uncle Jack appeared behind her. ‘I’ll follow the ambulance in the lorry and bring Dottie home.’

‘Come along now, Madam,’ said the ambulance driver. ‘The sooner we get him to hospital the better.’

‘Someone ought to tell Mary,’ Dottie said as she climbed into the back of the ambulance.

Billy stood up and ran to the open door. ‘I’ll tell me mum, Auntie Dot.’ But the other ambulance man pushed him away. ‘Off you go now, sonny. This is no place for you.’

‘Tell your mum Gary is in hospital,’ Auntie Dot called to him. ‘Tell her he’s got poliomyelitis.’ The ambulance man shut the door, banged it twice and walked round to the front and climbed into the driver’s seat.

Billy watched as the ambulance raced down the road, its bell ringing like mad. He was confused. What was that she said? Polo-my-light-us? What was that?

Aunt Peaches was going back into the house.

‘What shall I say is wrong with Gary, Aunt Peaches?’

‘Gary is very ill,’ sniffed Peaches. She put her handkerchief to her mouth and closed the door. A second later, it opened again. ‘And don’t you come round again. It’s too dangerous. And tell your mum, none of your family is to come either.’

Billy stared at the closed door. Why couldn’t he go to Aunt Peaches? What had he done wrong? He turned and walked down the road scuffing his shoes and trying to work it out.

‘Hey-up, Billy. You coming on the swings?’

It was Paul Dore on his bike. He pulled up beside Billy.

‘I got to go home,’ said Billy miserably. His mum would go spare when he told her he’d upset Aunt Peaches. He’d get a walloping for sure.

‘Aw, come on,’ Paul cajoled. ‘I’ll give you a lift on me bike.’

It didn’t take much to persuade Billy to put off the moment he faced his mum. When they got to the playground, they didn’t have a swing, that was for babies, but the scrubland along the edges of the park was great for a game of Cowboys and Indians.