Senseless, p.13
Senseless, page 13
‘Wrap up warm, it’s getting blustery. Remember that scarves should be tucked inside jackets and everything must be done up so nothing flaps and spooks any of the horses. You’ll be riding the same horses you were on this morning. Any questions? ’
There were none. They had a bit of time so Beth and Paula went to their room for a lie down before the big ride.
You’ll love it, Paula signed, I can’t even see that much of the view but I can tell it’s beautiful.Beth believed her on both counts.
Chapter 28
Sam, Saturday Afternoon
Sam was worn out but not exhausted in the way he got sometimes. He was making sure that he got plenty of food, knowing that food is fuel to the body. There was certainly no shortage of food here.
The hack out was pretty quiet, each rider lost in their thoughts. He looked around at one point and wondered what each of them was thinking. They all looked free, faces relaxed as they swayed gently in sync with their horse’s gait. Beth looked a little self-conscious in her tatty old cords and lumpy raincoat. His horse ended up walking beside JR at one point and he managed a brief conversation with her, not really getting beyond the weather, the cold and the beautiful countryside , but that was a start. She’d barely said two words to him all day otherwise. He seemed to have offended her at some stage.
In an odd way, Sam was pleased at what he felt was her open animosity toward him. He’d found since his illness, especially when he was using the chair, that he was greeted with sympathetic smiles everywhere he went, no matter what he was doing. Whatever he did, he’d get the ‘Aw w , isn’t he cute!’ look. He didn’t mind the smiles , and felt oddly secure in them now , but his wicked side sometimes wanted to do bad things to see how far he could push people before they lost ‘ the look ’ . He felt , sometimes , that people put up with him just because they felt they should humour the crip and not because they really like d him. Beth was different . S he seemed to have no such compunctions, disliking him with no regard to his disabilities.
When they got to the lake and dismounted to rest, Joe quad-biked out as promised , with a brown-paper bag full of freshly baked cookies and flasks of tea. Everyone was so much at peace that they just relaxed against a dry-stone wall and looked out at the calming waters.
As they were all totally worn out by the time they got back, Alice and Vicky were out of luck getting any help to bed down the horses , but Joe’s dinner of beef stew and dumplings was devoured in no time. Again , there was little by way of conversation , but Sam did find the energy to suggest meeting for hot drinks and a few hands of cards at eight and everyone was keen. Probably, like him, they want ed to keep the atmosphere of togetherness going a while longer.
Sam knocked on Sarah’s door at 7.55 pm .
She came at once. ‘Okay, let’s go!’ she said. ‘Did you bring the cards?’
‘Check, sir,’ he saluted and followed her up the corridor .
‘Did you get some rest?’
‘Check, sir , ’ he saluted again to her back.
‘Good, you’re ready to be fleeced then.’
‘I’m ready, hope you are.’
Beth and Paula were already in the kitchen ; he hadn’t expected that. They were signing and he spotted the sign for ‘football’ amongst the rest. As they sat down, Paula signed to him,
Donna’s ‘something’ won the cup.
He didn’t quite get it . H e knew that the sign ‘ spiky-hair ’ was her girlfriend’s name-sign but he didn’t understand the sign that b r ought both hands together to form a circle.
What? He copied the circular hands sign.
R-O-V-E-R-S ladies .
He was flummoxed for a second but then realised that she’d thought he was asking something else.
Erm, I don’t understand what that sign means?
T-e-a-m.
Oh right, I understand! Wow, brilliant.
He was a bit too tired to try to communicate in sign and wished Beth would help , but she seemed happy to leave them to it. Izzy hadn’t yet arrived and , as he’d been waiting for the chance to ask Paula something else , he tried signing again:
Sign what, s-u-f-f-e-r-i-n-g?
Paula held both hands in front of her, fingers splayed, palms facing her body and she shook her hands up and down, like the sign he’d already learned for pain.
You know you have Usher? he asked her ; rhetorically , he thought , but Paula hesitated.
Erm, for some reason she glanced at Beth, I’m deaf-blind, yes.
Do you think you suffer from being deaf-blind?
Paula didn’t pause at all to give her answer :
No, I don’t suffer. Do you suffer from MS?
Sam paused too : he had thought about this a lot. He’d love to say an outright ‘no’ , like Paula , because he didn’t like the word and he didn’t like the pity it conjured. Sometimes , though, he wondered .
‘Beth?’ he asked, ‘ Would you mind signing this while I talk, I don’t know the signs.’
Beth showed none of the irritation he’d noticed at other times . I nstead, she nodded and tapped Paula’s arm :
I’ll sign for fireman Sam now while he talks.
Okay, Paula consented with a smile.
Sam could smell alcohol on Beth’s breath, and her eyes were slightly glassy. He continued:
‘I think,’ he proclaimed , in an obviously well thought – out pitch, ‘that suffering is quite an individual thing. You can take two people and give them the same challenges or problems; one person might suffer and the other might not.’ He stopped to allow Beth to catch up and to see if Paula responded. She didn’t but waited for him to go on. ‘ Suffering can also depend on the situation. For example, this weekend I am definitely not suffering from my MS. Without MS, I’d probably never’ve started riding and I almost certainly wouldn’t be here to have such a lovely day so it’s almost the opposite of suffering, don’t you think?’
Paula nodded enthusiastically.
‘But sometimes,’ he went on, ‘when I’m having a very bad day, am alone in my flat and in pain, I think maybe I am suffering. I mean I don’t like to be labelled a sufferer. I’d rather be a struggler, if that’s a word, or someone who is learning to live with a difficult thing. I hate MS but I don’t want to be a victim to it.’
‘Does admitting that you’re suffering imply that you are a victim?’ Sarah chipped in.
‘I think that by allowing yourself to suffer something difficult, you’re letting yourself be a victim to it, yes.’
He was interested to hear what Paula and Beth had to say.
You think what, Paula? He signed .
I agree, it’s how you live with something that defines you as a sufferer or not. I hate the label and the assumption we suffer all the time.
Beth voiced that.
Yes, exactly, Sam signed . Then he spoke, looking at Beth:
‘Shit happens to nearly everyone in life, probably everyone full stop , but how it affects you and whether or not you suffer from it can depend a lot on the person. Would you agree?’
Beth gave a slight nod and that was all he needed to plough on with his theories.
‘I mean, I’m not criticising anyone who does suffer. I think different personality types deal with things in different ways. Often , though, it’s only through great hardship that we can find our strength. Things that look like unassailable setbacks to people not affected by them can become positive challenges to people when they are forced to deal with them.’
Beth signed to Paula, often needing to go back and clarify things or fingerspell a word.
I agree, Paula finally replied.
‘What do you think , Beth?’
‘I’m signing for Paula, I can’t do both things at once,’ she said and signed , returning to her curt defensiveness.
It’s okay, speak and sign, you can always tell me later, Paula encouraged.
Sure?
Yes.
Beth took a breath. Sam hoped her tongue might be loosened by whatever it was she had been drinking , but all she said was, ‘I’m not sure I can comment really , since I don’t have a disability.’
‘But suffering goes way beyond disability. We all have hardship in life, traumas. What’s yours , Beth, you must have one or more?’
Beth didn’t answer and looked at her hands on the table. Sam didn’t want to press her and instead asked, ‘It doesn’t matter what it is , but what do you think about feeling suffering from trauma? Do you think it’s inevitable or avoidable?’
Beth was breathing in and out of her nose slowly. Sam recognised that calming technique. He smel led stale wine again . ‘ Are you ok ay, Beth? No need to answer if you … ’ H e tailed off as he wanted her to answer but felt a cad for having upset her.
‘I’m not sure I agree,’ she said finally . ‘I mean, some people seem to have so many hard things that there is nothing they can do but suffer. It’s like pow, pow, pow.’ She made a gun with her hand and , Sam noted , pointed it at her own head.
‘I didn’t mean to sound glib , ’ he said.
‘No , no, I know what you mean , but I just think that sometimes you can’t always choose yourself how much a trauma will make you suffer.’
‘Go on.’
‘Well, how much and if you suffer can be affected by circumstance, other people, the timing of things, the severity…’
Sam could sense her pain and hoped that he hadn’t sounded too pompous and self – righteous. After all, it had taken him years to break out from feeling like a suffering victim to his MS. He wanted to reassure her.
‘I don’t mean you can choose instantly how something will affect you, it’s not that I think you always have a choice, I just mean some people seem to survive better than others when they have an inbuilt survivor spirit.’ Beth didn’t look at all assuaged so he tried again . ‘I know mental strength isn’t something you can just decide on and manipulate yourself.’
He looked at Beth . H e seemed to be making her inner turmoil worse.
He laughed to lighten the mood. ‘Sorry, I’m making a pig’s ear of this! I do think everyone’s stronger than they think when they have to deal with something, I guess that’s what I’m trying to say. Or maybe not?! I’ve lost the plot now!’ He looked to get off the subject and remembered her name-sign. He signed and smiled.
Name you Beth-thoughtful, I understand why now.
Paula clapped , although she can’t have got all of what was said-signed.
‘You think about things a lot , don’t you?’ Sam added. He didn’t want to patronise her so he smiled in a way he hoped was relaxed. He’d love to carry on this conversation because he loved philosophical arguing. He had been known to say the opposite to what he truly believed just to keep an argument going. He rarely got the chance to talk like this. Danny at the MS centre sometimes humoured him and Frida never shied from an intellectual debate but he didn’t get that much chance to really talk with either of them. However, he couldn’t see how to press on with this one without making Beth clam up even more.
L uckily, just then Izzy walked in , wearing her pyjamas and dressing gown and carrying a pack of Uno cards. He was saved from trying to think what to say next.
‘Sorry I’m not dressed , guys, it will be an early night for me,’ Izzy announced.
‘For all of us , I should think,’ said Sam , noting how very relaxed she had become in such a short time.
Sarah got up and reboiled the kettle, taking orders for hot drinks. Alice and Joe were in their own little private apartment tonight, leaving the guests to themselves.
Izzy asked if everyone knew Uno and it turned out that they ’ d all played at one time or another. They started simple, adding more and more rules as they went along, some of them ridiculous. The game suited everyone as it was clear and easy. Paula taught them all to sign the colours: blue, red, green and yellow. At first, Izzy won too easily, she was obviously experienced , but as time went on, it got closer, tighter, faster. They all laughed together when someone ended up picking up about twenty cards.
Sam watched everyone focusing, laughing, cheeks glowing, and the kitchen windows beg i n to steam up. This is what he knew would happen if only he could get everyone to sit down to a game. Playing cards was always the answer and he vowed to himself to buy his own set of Uno cards when he got home.
When Izzy and Paula went to bed and Sarah popped to the loo, he and Beth were left alone in the kitchen. Feeling that the barriers that had prevented them talking were finally starting to come down , he stole the moment to ask gently what she had been drinking.
‘I had a bottle of wine in my room.’
She looked embarrassed but not offended that he’d asked, no doubt mellowed by wine and the camaraderie of the evening. There were patterns from his own experiences that he could see: bringing wine but keeping it hidden, not sharing it, drinking it surreptitiously. It b r ought things to his mind that he didn’t particularly want to remember but felt he wanted to share with her. He also felt that it might allow her to open up more , knowing he had been through something similar. It was a bit of a gamble , bringing it up without much preamble , but they didn’t have much time before Sarah would be back.
‘After I was diagnosed with MS, I soon lost my job and as good as lost my partner and son. I got thrown into a terrible depression and felt the world was closing in on me.’ Beth nodded and he knew she really understood . ‘I used to shut myself away, eating terrible food, drinking too much and generally hiding in my cave of grief. It was a feeling that no one could possibly understand what I was going through.’
Beth looked about to speak, eyes fixed on his , when Sarah came back too soon and started clearing up the mugs, unknowingly breaking the atmosphere he felt building between them. He had a swell of tenderness for her that surprised him, a flicker of kinship.
When they all got up to go to bed, he felt disappointed, craving more time with her and wondering if they would get another chance to be alone together.
Chapter 29
Beth, Sunday
Sunday morning was wet so they rode indoors before settling down to Joe’s huge Sunday roast , their finale lunch , where there was much laughter and relaxed chatter before packing up.
As they stood in the car park watching Joe put their cases in the boot, Beth thought how different things were from when they had arrived on Friday to be greeted by the disappearing back of a man in a wheelchair and the smiling ‘hello’ of a fresh-faced, grinning woman. She remembered finding an excuse to loiter so that she could avoid talking to them in reception. She remembered being greeted by a tall, broad-shouldered man with a pony-tail. She picked out that moment as the one when she had started, little by very little , to relax.
She had only started to see last night , over cards and group laughter, how relaxed and open Sam seemed to be. She felt a little ashamed of her immediate suspicions of him. Watching him find ways to draw Izzy out and to communicate with Paula, she’d felt a sense of something close to pride. She also saw that he was doing the same with her: quietly and patiently learning what was inside her. The conversation he had started at the end of the evening proved it to her. She so wished it could have developed.
Now that she had his phone number and email address stored firmly in her own handset, she was sure that they had only just brushed the surface of the talking they had to do together. It was funny, some people – most people – she was suspicious of for a long time , but with the group here, influenced by Alice and Joe’s relaxed welcom e , she’d begun to gel and bond. Izzy was like a different person after such a short time and Beth hoped that she could get back to riding and being around horses more often , and that she’d also find the right people to spend time with.
She was very sad to be going home and didn’t want to think about the week ahead , clos ing it off for a while longer and feeling eternally grateful to Paula for bringing her here and to Donna for not being able to come.
As they drove away, Beth felt a sudden wave of loneliness and was hit by the depressing thought of returning to her silent, empty house. That morning, o n a whim, she’d given the last bottles of wine to Alice and Joe as a thank – you gift. She determined not to buy more.
The journey home went very well. It being Sunday afternoon, the roads were quiet even when they hit more urban areas and they drove without stopping. As she pulled up at Paula’s, the front door opened , and Donna stood in the threshold waving as Barn e y dashed around her legs and raced over to the car. Donna came out and flung her arms around Paula as if she hadn’t seen her in years. They kissed then, mouths locked together passionately. Beth looked down for Barn e y but he was jumping up Paula’s legs.
It was such a sight of unrestrained love that Beth didn’t know what to do . H er stomach seemed to twist up with an emotion she couldn’t identify: not really embarrassment, not jealousy , but something else. Yearning , maybe.
Thank you, Paula-strong-willed, I had a lovely weekend, she signed when they eventuallypulled apart.
Me too, I knew you’d like it there. Thank you for your support, Beth-thoughtful.
As Beth climbed back in the car, she had tears in her eyes and exhaustion washed over her. She started the car and headed home, with nothing to look forward to but an empty sofa. As she pulled into her road, she saw a car parked outside her house. She knew that car, it was Rick’s. As she approached, he got out and leaned against the car, waiting for her to park.
