In The Classified
written by: Shirley Goodrum
Standing in the doorway to Ward 5, Alison clutched a sodden tissue and watched the two nurses. In sync, they rolled her brother, Michael, from his back onto his side. He wasn’t wearing a pyjama top and the blue tinge of his skin shocked her. His sleep shorts slipped, exposing pale hips below a tan line. The shorter nurse looked too young for her grey hair and the wrinkles on the back of her hands. She picked up his head and held it steady while her co-worker wrapped a hand towel around his neck, tucked in the ends, and made it into a collar. Together they lowered his head back onto the pillow, pulled his pants to his waist, and rolled him back onto his back. His eyes were closed, he looked comfortable, asleep. Exchanging slight nods, the nurses pulled up the sheet, smoothed out the creases and squared it across his shoulders. The shape of his feet disappeared as they shook out a yellow blanket and placed it over them. Alison heard herself scream.
“Leave him alone. Get away from the bed.” Her flip flops slapped her heels as she ran across the speckled grey carpet. “Give him some air. Mind.” She shoved the nurses aside, tugged at the tucked sheet, touched Michael’s cheek. It was ice cold. “Mike? Mike?” She shook his shoulder. “Michael, speak to me. Come on, come on, Mike, open your eyes. Please, Mikey. Please.”
“He’s gone, my dear.” The voice was gentle and near her ear.
Alison shook her head. Mike was only thirty-nine. He was sleeping, but he was so cold. She was his big sister; it was her job to look after him, to warm him up. A hand tapped her shoulder.
“Are you Alison Spencer?”
“Yes. Please, bring him another blanket.”
“It won’t help. I’m so sorry. When his wife came, she arranged to have his body collected, but your niece, Lisa- I think – persuaded her to let us keep his body here until you and your husband had seen him.”
Michael’s hair was untidy. He hated untidy hair. Alison scanned the open locker drawer for a comb, but it was empty. The sodden tissue was taken from her hand and swopped for a clean one. She wiped it across her cheeks, blew her nose and slumped onto the visitors’ bench.
A hand touched her shoulder. “Will your husband be here soon?”
“My husband? Oh, no, I haven’t told Derek, he’s playing golf.”
“Can we get someone to be with you?”
“Is Lisa here?”
“No, she wanted to wait for you, but her mother took her. She was very upset and the red-haired lady who bought her here did her best to comfort her, but she was also crying a lot, and left after your niece had phoned you, do you know who she is?”
“Michael’s fiancé, Gina.”
A glance flitted between the nurses. Married and engaged? Well, well.
Alison waved away Mike’s adultery. “It’s not what you think. Believe me, he is -was – an honourable man. His wife – they are – were – separated, getting divorced. Oh god, what a mess. How did he die? This was supposed to be a simple procedure.”
“It was, but he had a massive heart attack. His potassium shot up. We worked on him but couldn’t save him.”
The hand on her shoulder gave it a gentle shake. “The undertakers have arrived.”
Alison pressed her hand to Michael’s cheek. “Please. Just another minute.”
“Just one.”
She stroked his face. “I have to go, Mike. I’ll check in on Lisa. She’s probably freaking out. She hates that toy-boy of Judith’s, now she must live with him in the house you built. Shit, how the hell am I going to keep calm?”
Michael’s lips, a darker blue than his back, remained silent. She remembered how, three months ago, they’d curled into a smile as he’d shown her the cut-out of what he’d placed in the evening paper.
“Dad put me up to it, Ali,” he chuckled. “Said I had to get my sorry arse into gear and stop moping about my failed marriage, shape up for my kid.”
“Sounds like Dad, typical Cockney, never avoids the elephant in the room, and you’d slid into deep depression, so you produced a classified advert, no bigger than my thumb.”
“Hey, you try doing better. Putting yourself out there isn’t easy.”
“I’m teasing actually, I’m proud of you.”
“Just read it will you.”
Alison smiled as she did. He’d written a good small. Classy, truthful.
“It’s good. May I keep it?”
“Sure, I’ve got more. Bought a few newspapers, sent a copy to Dad.”
Alison zipped it into her wallet. “So now what? Any replies?”
Mike’s eyes crinkled. “Phone’s been ringing like crazy.”
“Any dates?”
“Yep.”
“And?”
“I still take the calls.”
“Okay, well good luck.”
“Might not need that. Date number two was great and we’re going out again.”
“But you’re taking calls -”
“Not putting all my eggs in one basket again.”
Michael didn’t need Alison’s luck. Three months later, when their ailing parents had needed help in Cape Town, Alison had taken a flight and Michael had travelled by car with date number two in the passenger seat. Gina, widowed, red-haired, model-tall, drummed her fingers on the dashboard and sang along to his favourite tunes. Mile by mile she stole his pain and eased him back to himself.
In Cape Town he couldn’t stop smiling. Their father nodded, and Gina slipped into the role of cook. Feeding them, throwing her arms around a blushing Mike, cuddling up to him on the couch, she won their hearts. No one was surprised when Mike proposed, instructed his lawyer to hurry the divorce along and draft a new will.
Gina flashed her ring,
“Told you the classified smalls would work, didn’t I son. Now, get me the step ladder from the garage.”
Mike did as he was told.
“Right on, put it next to Gina. She so bleeding tall I can’t get to give her a kiss without it.”
Those who picked up the dead from hospitals, stood in the ward, shuffling their feet, waiting to take her brother’s body. Where to? What would happen to it? Would it be buried or cremated? She’d have to ask Judith. Judith who’d once been her close friend, who’d tossed aside a marriage of eighteen years to kafuffle with her young gym instructor. Judith who’d destroyed her brother’s life and broken his heart. Judith, Michael’s wife.
Alison wasn’t ready for Michael’s body to leave, she gripped the bed rail but the nurses prised her fingers open and the undertakers wheeled him away. Tears wet her cheeks, blurred the end of the corridor where it turned, and Mike disappeared.
In the car park, she swiped away the tears with the back of her hand and shoved the key into the ignition.
“Right, Mike,” she said to the empty car. “Time to check up on Lisa, see Judith, and find out what she’s planning to do with your remains.”
Like the divorce papers, Mike’s new will was unsigned and the old one, which stipulated his wishes for a cremation, stood and Judith inherited everything. She organised the funeral to take place at St Luke’s, followed by a tea at her house.
Alison was shocked. “They got married in that church. What a mockery of until death do us part. That house, the one that’s now hers, was Mike’s and everyone knows, long before he died, Judith and her boyfriend were living there and Mike and Gina were engaged. It’s a fiasco.”
“Calm down, Ali.”
“I’m telling you, Derek, we are going to sit next to Gina, and I’m putting it out there that there will be a tea here, at our house, after the service. I’m furious with Judith, I’ll not have Gina humiliated. She saved Mike, he loved her.”
Gina turned heads. Tall, slim, and poised she piqued the mourners’ curiosity. They didn’t know her, but they knew of her, gave her uncertain nods, acknowledged the diamond sparkling on the ring finger of her left hand. Whispers drifted.
“That’s Michael’s fiancé with Alison and Derek. Where’s his wife and kids?”
Gina blushed and Alison took her hand. “Don’t worry, they’ll love you, won’t they, Derek?”
“How can they not?”
The mourners grew in number. Some approached them, shared their sadness, expressed respect and affection for Michael, and smiled awkwardly when introduced to Gina. Their history with Michael was a licence to sum her up. He’d picked a winner; the whirlwind romance had paid off. Muttering condolences, they looked around for his wife and daughter and sighed with relief when they couldn’t find them. Judith had tossed aside a good guy and they had little sympathy for her.
“It’s time, let’s go inside.” Derek steered them to the front of the church. The usher moved them back a row.
“The first is for his wife.”
Alison squeezed Gina’s hand. “This one’s for his love.”
NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR:
He believed life was straightforward, good or bad, black or white, depending on the choice you made. Betrayal dropped him to his knees and getting back up he discovered life was curved, random, grey and he choose love.
- In The Classified - July 19, 2023
- Blondes in Istanbul - July 2, 2022
