I let out a sigh as I collapsed onto the soft cotton couch, the furniture convulsing slightly under Jay and I's combined weight. It was a rickety article at best, but considering the Paddy's Market piece had lasted the family a good ten years I was pretty impressed that it hadn't given out completely.
Sighing contently, I shifted slightly so that I was nestled into Jay's warm figure, taking care not to spill the steaming mug of tea in my hands. My parents were both out at Mass (again doing the coffee morning) so Jay and I had the house to ourselves. And we'd settled for the very British option of tea and Sunday morning telly.
I raised the cup to my lips, hot liquid sloshing over the rim and dribbling down my fingers. Swearing, I leant over and licked the tea off. Didn't want it to go to waste after all. Jay laughed as I lapped up the droplets, his jittering frame knocking me even more off balance.
"Hey!" I complained, placing the cup down on the coffee table to give him a rough shove. Not that it really did anything of course, me being a skinny little squirt and Jay being Mr Athletic. But hey, at least I tried. Jay smiled.
"Sorry," he mumbled and looked down at me with wide, doe eyes. I scowled.
"Whatever."
He gave me a half smile and sneakily wound an arm around my shoulders, squishing me up against his side so that my arm was draped over his thigh and my head rested on his shoulder. I blushed a deep scarlet colour, and continued to glower at the smiling redhead presenting the weather as though it was somehow her fault my knees turned to jelly every time I was around Jay. Rays of sunlight slipped through the blinds and shone a white glare on a good half of the TV screen, but I was only half-focused on the telly anyway.
Being enveloped in Jay's arms was much more preoccupying.
"Hey Jay, gonna pass me the tea?" I whined, playfully nudging him with my elbow. He grinned, and ruffled my hair. I drew a sharp intake of breath at his closeness to my face and my gaze briefly wandered to his soft lips, but I shook my head and looked away. I had to stop turning into a lovesick teenage girl every time Jay was around.
Even if he was my boyfriend. Key word there being mine. I smiled at the thought.
A piping hot mug was pressed against my fingers. I yelped, prompting Jay to burst into laughter again.
"Oh, shut up," I snapped, tipping the mug backwards without a second thought and chugged it down, only half aware of Jay's curious gaze focusing on me like a spotlight.
"I want to tell my mum."
And a furious cough ruptured my throat. After a brief but highly embarrassing spluttering session, I spewed out the half swallowed tea back into the cup and shuddered. Wiping my mouth with the back of my hand, I turned back to Jay, who was shielding himself with folded arms.
"What?" I croaked. Jay mumbled something unintelligible under his breath.
"Dude," I groaned. "Please."
And, I slowly reached over and wound his fingers with mine. A small smile crept across his face and he took a deep breath before continuing.
"I, um... I want to tell my mum," he whispered, his eyes squeezed tight shut as if in prayer. "About me. About you. About us."
I drew in a deep, shuddering breath.
"Are you serious?"
He blinked back a few shimmering tears and I gulped, a bit put off by the fact I'd upset him.
"I mean, uh," I struggled to find the right words, the right condolences. I really, really didn't feel comfortable with revealing my sexuality yet, however hard I tried to convince myself that it didn't matter. Just the idea of dropping that bombshell on my parents... It sent an icy shiver down my spine. But I took a deep breath and pushed the thought away.
"Sorry," Jay muttered, clearly flustered by my less than enthusiastic reaction. "Um, just forget it. Pretend I didn't say anything."
My stomach immediately began to squirm with remorse and I dropped my gaze to the floor, trying to hide my guilt with a taily shield of scruffy black hair. A deep sigh escaped my tightly pressed lips.
"Uh... Jay?" I tried again, nervously fiddling with a loose thread on the couch and still avoiding his apologetic stare. Although my eyes were otherwise occupied, I could feel him nodding beside me.
"Yeah?"
"D'you..." I swallowed the steadily growing lump in my throat. "D'you really want to tell your mum? Because if you do... I really don't mind... I mean, uh, well I do kind of mind, but... You know..."
I couldn't really form a comprehensible sentence at this point, partially because my mouth was dry as sawdust, but mainly because my all the wheels in my brain had stopped churning. It was like Jay's words had thrown a spanner into the works, sending the cogs into a grinding halt and I was left with a gaping open mouth like some sort of fish.
"Um... I do want to tell my mum," Jay said, his voice so slight I could have mistaken it for the wind. "But, um, it's kind of selfish isn't it? My mum... she doesn't need any more on her plate and you don't want to come out yet... But..." His voice took on a wistful tone and he turned to gaze out the window at the empty street, eyes glassy.
"But I just want her to know," he finished. Although I didn't think it possible, his voice had gotten even quieter. If it was a whisper before, it was a ghost of a breath now. "Besides... she'll carry the secret to the grave, right?"
And I was startled out my trance-like state immediately.
"Don't joke about things like that," I snapped, a fierce scowl on my forehead. Jay gave a small, sad laugh yet curled up his fists at the same time.
"Sorry. It's just..." he sighed and unclenched his fists as though releasing some unspoken emotion. "But, um, making bad jokes, telling bad puns... It just makes it less... real."
I hesitated for a few seconds, then reached over and wound my warm fingers with his cool, shaking ones. I tried to telepathically send him all the sympathetic thoughts choked up in my throat, the words I was unable to say. My fingers tightened their hold on Jay's and he smiled in response.
"Well, uh, for what it's worth Jay... I think your mum will be ok. And I know I'm not a doctor, or whatever, but..." I trailed off, not wanting to develop some stupid stutter. But I forced myself to swallow, forced my knees to stop shaking, and forced myself to get a grip. Jay was the one who should be a nervous wreck, not me! I groaned and slapped a sweaty palm to my equally sweaty forehead.
"Thanks Ash," Jay whispered, his hand firmly gripping my own.
I decided not to bother with my now stone-cold tea, and instead went straight to the hospital with Jay. We hopped on the 27 bus in a comfortable silence, silently drawing on each other for support. We didn't hold hands or anything – that would be way too suspicious. And we could have bumped into anybody on the bus.
We still sat closely on the bus, huddled into one seat, thighs pressed together. Jay sat at the window, staring out but only half-watching the people in the background. I faced into the interior of the bus, with nothing to look at but the people.
One man lay with the brim of his hat falling over his half-shut eyes. A slight hissing snore slipped from his whiskery lips, indicating that he really was sleeping. Nestled in the corner surrounded by a large wall of shopping bags like a small fortress was a slight blonde woman, muttering urgently into her mobile. Plugged into a large set of retro earphones, a teenager maybe two years younger than Jay and I sat at the front of the bus, continually rubbing his eyes. From behind I couldn't tell if it was a sleepy gesture, or a furious scrubbing at tears.
I gave Jay a gentle nudge in the ribs, jerking him out of his daydream and nodded at the boy in front. He followed my gaze, then frowned when his eyes fell on the shivering boy who was currently blasting a sombre piano piece that I vaguely recognised.
"Um... Should we go over?"
Still frowning, I nodded. "I'll do it."
And I pushed myself up from the stiff cotton chair and planted myself beside the boy. He jumped up in surprise, and blinked back some shiny tears. Yup, definitely crying. I chewed my bottom lip somewhat awkwardly for a few moments before I cleared my throat.
"Uh, are you ok?" I asked. I internally debated whether to put a hand on his shoulder or not, but decided against it. He didn't even know me after all. I'd probably freak him out. If he wasn't freaked out by the fact that a weird teenage boy randomly came and sat next to him that is.
He spluttered for a few seconds, before managing, "Eh, I'm fine..." in a shaky voice. My natural cynical personality came into play as I felt my left eyebrow raise in disbelief.
"Uh huh. And I'm the queen of fucking Sheba. So you're just practicing your waterworks on a public bus while playing sad music for the fun of it? Excuse me while I go get my tiny violin."
This at least got a weak chuckle from the boy, and I returned the grin.
"Cheers," he mumbled, thumbing the volume control on the scratched MP3 player sticking out of his pocket. I grinned.
"Hey, shit always works out," I told him seriously. He looked at me, clear incredulity written on his face.
"Nah. Not always."
I groaned. "Hey, I'm trying to do you a favour here dude! Basically what I'm saying is, sometimes you've gotta stop looking at the negatives to see the positives right in front of your nose."
With that embarrassingly philosophical sentiment, I strolled back over to Jay's seat and squashed myself between him and the window.
"Hey Ash?"
His mouth was hovering directly beside my ear and I shivered.
"Yeah?"
"That was pretty deep."
"Shut up."
"Ok."
The bus then screeched to a halt just outside a row of small shops. The slightly happier atmosphere came to an abrupt end. Jay and I walked the remaining distance to the hospital in silence. I kept my attention focused on the fascinating shop windows, desperately trying distract myself from the nervous fluttering in my stomach. Chemist. Chip shop. Newsagents. Chip shop. Solicitors Office. Steamy. Chip Shop.
All too soon, the row of shops dwindled into nothingness. The hospital towered before us, dusty windows peering down at the bustling car park below. Wailing ambulances pulled up in front of the doors in a panicked frenzy, wheeling wheezing patients into the main building. Shivering patients gathered at the side of the A and E block, half-lit cigarettes in hand as they glared at the visitors, daring them to say something about the clear 'No Smoking' sign hanging above their heads.
And Jay and I stared back, our eyes wide with anticipation. My stomach was in knots, my heart juddering violently. Coming out? It was a foreign concept, one I really didn't want to deal with.
The tense aura only increased as Jay and I sprinted to the ward, the identical ticking clocks hung on identical walls constantly reminding us of our time limit. The visit had been spontaneous, and we only had ten minutes left of morning visiting time.
Dizzy and breathless, Jay burst into Linda's private ward, me following him a close second.
Nothing could have prepared me for what I saw next.
Linda lay, no longer bloated but shrunken and shrivelled like she was a balloon that had burst. She held a tattered book in her frail hands, squinting over the top of her steamy oxygen mask. And the harsh fluorescent lighting reflected off the white skin of her now hairless head.
I felt physically sick. She hardly looked human anymore.
"Mum?"
She looked up in shock, clearly not expecting any visitors. Her eyes momentarily lit up when she realised that her son was here, but her expression abruptly morphed into one of panic when she remember what she looked like.
"Oh, I'm sorry boys," she croaked, her voice thick with medication. "I wasn't expecting any visitors so I'm a wee bit of a mess. I got all my hair shaved off this morning and I've got no headscarf yet. You wouldn't believe how cold it is without hair..."
The feeble attempt at some light humour only made the situation all the more real. She was like Jay – joking about it made it all feel like some sort of TV show, where any minute now we'd all have our miraculously happy endings. But this wasn't some cheesy TV show. This was real life. And the reality of Linda's lumpy, white-ish scalp only made it all the more scary.
"Hi mum," Jay whispered. Although his pale brown hair was falling in his eyes like usual, I could see them starting to fill up, salty tears on the verge of spilling. And, without thinking, I grabbed his hand.
Linda looked confused for a moment, before erupting into a fit of coughs. My heart leapt to my throat as her whole body spasmed beneath the sheets, her oxygen mask slipping slightly to reveal a prematurely wrinkled mouth. Jay cried out in terror.
"Mum!"
"I'm... ok," she wheezed a few heart-stopping moments later. "It's just... the medication... kicking in..."
I nodded and swallowed, not trusting myself to speak at this point. I feared that if I opened my mouth, all the crazy thoughts tumbling around in my head would fall out.
"Mum..." Jay said, teeth clenched. "I've... I've got something to tell you."
Linda's eyes fluttered open and closed. "That's nice dear."
I saw Jay's almost non-existent confidence falter for a moment and I gave his hand an extra squeeze. Jay needed to do this. For himself. For his mum.
"Mum..." he tried again, trembling slightly. She gave him a warped smile.
Cough. "Yes?" Cough.
"You know Ash?"
He limply gestured to my shaking form and I gave a weak smile.
"Hi Mrs McCallion," I murmured, not sure how to address the woman in the bed. A quick stolen glance at the clock revealed visiting time was finishing right now and any second the nurses would burst through the door with a squeaky trolley full of medicine.
"Hello..." she sighed. "You're a nice boy. I like you."
My mum had already explained that the medication had addled her brains a little. But hearing about something was so different from seeing it.
"Thanks," I laughed, trying to inject some humour into the situation. It didn't work.
"Um, I like Ash too," Jay whispered, reaching for Linda's skeletal hand. "And, um, that's what I wanted to tell you..."
"Oh, ok." Linda gave a fragile smile. Jay groaned in frustration.
"No mum, it's not ok," he said, his voice quivering but still strong. "I like Ash more than I should... I... I love him."
My chest constricted as his words echoed off the silent walls.
"That's nice."
"Mum, do you understand what I'm saying?" Jay yelled, his voice choked with tears, which were now flowing freely. "I love Ash! Another guy! I'm gay mum! And I'm so, so sorry..."
With that, Jay broke down into silent sobs. I didn't release my grip on his hand.
But neither did Linda.
"I know what you're saying," she told him quietly. "I know. My son is gay. But do you know what?"
Jay looked up, terrified of rejection. I braced myself for it too.
"I'm proud," Linda hissed, her voice fading away. "I've always been proud of you, Jay. You're still my son. Now I just know something more about you..."
She began coughing again and Jay urgently held onto her fingers, turning them slightly blue.
"Be who you are..."
And her eyes closed as she drifted into unconsciousness. The room was silent, save the gentle sounds of our breathing.
"The medication kicked in," Jay whispered hoarsely. "She's just asleep."
I nodded. "Yeah."
A nurse ushered us to the exit a few moments later. We stood at the side of the hospital, Jay shivering despite my arms tightly wrapped around him, a silent sob wrenching itself from his throat every few moments. I felt so guilty... I'd made such a big deal about coming out, while Linda had been...
I shook my head, trying to banish the thoughts. I could't said it. Wouldn't say it.
She wasn't dying.
She couldn't be.
And although I'd only known her for a few short months, a solitary tear slithered down my cheek.
"Hey Ash?" Jay said after a few more moments of sadness.
"Yeah?"
"Tell me she'll be ok," he commanded, his eyes shut to stop any more loose tears. And I sniffed.
"She'll be ok, Jay," I told him, squeezing him tightly. "She'll be ok. She'll be ok."
And I continued to repeat the words, over and over.
"She'll be ok."