Love in Another Town (9 page)

 

‘I
T'S ME, AMY,'
Jake called out as he opened the door of her apartment. Bending, he picked up the bags of groceries he had deposited on the floor and went into the hall. Walking across the living room, he stood in the doorway. ‘Hello, honey,' he said, smiling at her.

Amy was sitting on the sofa in the dim-lit room, watching television. ‘Hi, Jake,' she said in a low voice and gave him a wan smile.

‘I'll be with you in a minute, Amy. After I put all of this stuff in the kitchen.'

Amy nodded and leaned back against the sofa. She was so happy to see Jake but she didn't seem to have the strength to show it.

Jake thought she looked excessively pale today and weaker than usual, but he made no reference to her
health. Turning, he hurried into the kitchen; after placing the groceries on the table he glanced around. For the past few weeks Mary Ellis, the wife of one of his electricians, had been keeping the apartment clean. She was doing it more as a favour to him and out of the goodness of her heart rather than for the money, and he was pleased with the results. The kitchen was not only neat and clean, it sparkled.

Once he had put everything away, Jake went back to the living room and sat down opposite Amy. ‘How're you feeling today?' he asked, inspecting her face closely, thinking she was thinner than ever.

‘Tired, Jake, a bit done in,' she answered.

‘Do you want me to make you something to eat before I go back to work?'

She shook her head. ‘I'm not hungry … I'm never hungry these days. But you eat something.'

‘No, thanks anyway. I can't stay too long. I have to get back to the site as quickly as possible, we're doing some special wiring. When do you have to go to the hospital again?'

‘Tomorrow. My mother's going to take me.'

‘What does the doctor say? Are you in remission yet?'

‘I think so. But that doesn't mean I'm not going to die, Jake. Not many people survive cancer. We all know that,' she murmured in a low voice.

‘You mustn't be negative, Amy,' he replied gently but firmly. ‘And you must keep your strength up. Not eating is the worst thing you can do. You need nourishment, some good food in you. Why don't you let me make you something? I did a lot of shopping
at the supermarket. I bought all sorts of things, special things you've always liked.'

‘I'm not hungry, Jake,' she began and stopped, her voice quavering. Amy took a deep breath, opened her mouth to say something and stopped again. The tears came then, welling in her eyes. Slowly they trickled down her pale cheeks.

Jake got up immediately and went and sat next to her on the sofa. He put his arms around her and held her close. ‘Don't cry, Amy. I said I'd look after you, and I will. It's going to be all right, you're going to get better. This is the hard part, you know, undergoing the treatment, suffering through it. I know it's making you weak, but you'll get your strength back eventually. And when you do I'm going to send you and your mother to Florida for that vacation I promised you.'

‘You'll come won't you, Jake?' Amy asked, looking at him wistfully.

‘You know I can't. I've got to work, I must make sure things keep running smoothly. I can't let anything slip, not now.'

‘I wish you
could
come though.'

‘I know you do. Listen to me, Amy, you and your mother are going to enjoy getting away. It'll do you both good.'

‘Jake …'

‘Yes, honey?'

‘I don't want to die.' She began to cry again, sobbing against his shoulder. ‘I'm frightened. I think I'm going to die. I don't want to. I'm afraid, Jake.'

‘Hush. Hush. Don't upset yourself like this. Remember what I've said to you before, it's the worst thing
you can do, getting yourself so overwrought in this way. You've got to stay calm, be positive. Everything's going to be all right, Amy. Hush now.'

Eventually she stopped weeping, and as soon as she was composed Jake got up and went to the kitchen where he boiled a kettle and made a cup of tea. He brought it to her on a tray and sat talking to her for a while, wanting to allay her worries and fears, hoping to help her reach a better frame of mind.

Jake was preoccupied with thoughts of Amy as he drove to South Kent. He was doing everything he could to help her, but she had to help herself. Her doctor had told him that a positive attitude could work wonders, and that many people had licked cancer because of this. Jake knew only too well how negative Amy was; he wished he could make her understand how important it was for her to look on the bright side, to vow to get better and to do everything she could to achieve this goal. But she was more negative than ever, apathetic, and gloomy. He was doing everything he could, from providing financial support and doing the shopping to coming over whenever he could to sit with her, to cheer her up.

By the time he arrived at Havers Hill Farm Jake had decided to have a talk with Amy's mother. Maybe she could make more of an impression than he had been able to with Amy.

After parking the pick-up, he made directly for the kitchen before going to check up on Kenny and Larry, who were working on the exterior wiring.

Maggie's briefcase was on the floor and her papers were spread out on the old kitchen table, as they usually
were, but she was nowhere in sight. He ran up the stairs and found her in the master bedroom, measuring one of the walls.

Hearing his footsteps, she swung around and her face lit up at the sight of him. ‘Good morning!' she cried, coming towards him.

His smile was wide, and he was so intent on sweeping her into his arms he did not notice the frown of concern, the worry lurking at the back of her eyes. She knew how much he was juggling – the business, his own work, Amy's illness, and herself. That he was exhausted was apparent.

Hugging her to him, Jake said, ‘How're you feeling, Maggie? How's the baby doing?'

She smiled up into his face, pushing her worry to one side. ‘We're both terrific and all the better for seeing you. Were you at Amy's?'

‘Yes. I got her some groceries.'

‘How is she, Jake?' she asked, her brows puckering in a frown.

He shook his head. ‘Not too good. Down. Depressed, I think.'

‘Who can blame her? How awful for her to be so ill. She's so young. It's very sad.'

‘I just wish she had your kind of spirit, your positive nature, Maggie; that would help a lot, I think.'

Maggie nodded and slid out of his arms. ‘Come on, I'd like to show you something.' She was purposely changing the subject, wanting to distract him, to cheer him up, since he seemed to have been infected by Amy's dourness this morning.

Taking him by the hand she led him downstairs and into the dining room. ‘Yesterday the table arrived from
the antiques dealer in New York. Take a look.' As she spoke she whipped off the dustcloth, and stood back, admiring it yet again.

‘What beautiful wood!' Jake exclaimed. ‘And it's an old piece, I can see that.'

‘Fairly old, nineteenth century. And it's yew.'

Jake glanced around. ‘This room's really taking shape,' he remarked and walked over to a wall where Maggie had glued on swatches of fabric and carpet, plus a paint chip. ‘Tomato red?' he said, raising a brow eloquently.

Maggie laughed. ‘That's right. Heinz tomato soup with a dash of cream. Avocado-green carpet … that's as far as I've got with possible colours.'

He laughed with her, much to her relief. At least she had managed to take his mind off Amy's illness for a moment or two.

Jake said, ‘I've noticed something lately. Whenever you speak about colours you do so in terms of food.'

‘I'm pregnant remember. I've got all sorts of cravings.'

‘You don't have to remind me, I could never forget.' He leaned into her, kissed her on the cheek. ‘I'm going outside to see the guys. How about supper tonight? I'll feed you.'

‘You're on,' she answered, grinning at him.

 

‘A
RE YOU LISTENING TO ME, AMY
?' her mother said, quickly glancing at her daughter out of the corner of her eye, not wishing to take her eyes off the road ahead.

‘Yes, Mom, I am. You said Jake thinks I'm too negative about my cancer.'

‘That's correct,' Jane Lang murmured. ‘He says it would be better for you if you got out more,
did
things when you're well enough, when you're not in pain. Are you in pain now, Amy?'

‘No, Mom, I'm not. I don't know what he means by
do
things. We didn't do much when we were married. He was always working, working, working, a real workaholic that guy is for sure.'

‘What do you mean
were
married. You're still married to him, Amy, and let's not forget that. If you
would only concentrate on Jake I'm sure you and he could get back together. He loves you, honey, and I know you love him. It was ridiculous of you to split up. He's so nice, I've always liked him since you were kids.'

‘I don't think he wants to come back, Mom.'

‘But just consider the way he's looking after you right now, Amy, taking care of you financially, doing so many things, like getting you this woman to help you in the apartment, and paying for it. And going to the supermarket for you. He loves you, I'm certain.'

‘Oh, I don't know, maybe he's just being nice. He's like that.'

‘Like what, honey?'

‘Nice, Mom. Jake's always been kind to me, ever since we were kids in high school,' Amy responded, sounding slightly impatient.

‘You never did tell me exactly
why
you and Jake broke up,
why
you decided to get a divorce. What was the reason?' Mrs Lang asked.

‘I don't really know, to be truthful, Mom. I guess we just sort of drifted apart, you know …' Amy's voice trailed off. She wasn't really sure how the whole mess
had
come about.

‘You can win him
back!
It will give you a goal … you must try very hard, Amy, put all your heart and soul into it. You and Jake were always right for each other, it's such a shame all this came to pass.' Mrs Lang sighed and then applied pressure to the brake as she turned a difficult corner on the slippery road. ‘And it's such a shame you didn't have children. I don't know why you never planned a family. Amy – '

‘It's a good thing I didn't!' Amy exclaimed, cutting
her mother off, ‘now that I'm dying. Where would they have been? Practically orphans with their mother dead of cancer at the age of twenty-nine and their father working night and day, never home.'

‘Don't talk like that, Amy, it's very upsetting to me. And you're
not
dying. Dr Stansfield told me you're doing well.'

‘He did?'

‘Certainly he did.'

‘When, Mom?'

‘This afternoon. When you were getting dressed. He thinks you're making wonderful progress.'

‘I don't feel that I am,' Amy mumbled. ‘I'm not really in pain but I feel crummy, Mom. Really crummy. I told Aunt Violet that when I was in the kitchen tonight, you know, when she was cooking the hamburgers. She offered me a vodka, said it would make me feel better.'

‘That woman is incorrigible at times!' Mrs Lang exclaimed.

‘She's your sister, Mom.'

‘And we're as different as chalk and cheese.'

‘I guess so.'

‘I know so. Anyway, honey, we're going to take that trip to Florida next month. You'll enjoy it very much. Jake mentioned it to me again this morning when he called. Do you remember when your Daddy took us to Florida? You were six. You loved it so much.'

‘Perhaps I'll get to see Mickey Mouse before I die,' Amy murmured.

‘Don't, Amy,
don't,'
her mother whispered.

‘Sorry, Mom. But I do hope I get to meet Mickey.'

‘You will, you will, when we go to Disney World,' Mrs Lang said, peering ahead. Although it was a wet night the rain had stopped; knowing Amy was tired, wanting to get her home, Mrs Lang pulled out, impatient with the slow-moving Toyota in front of her.

She did not see the vehicle coming directly at her down the other lane on the two-lane road. Blinded by glaring headlights, Jane Lang took one hand off the wheel to shade her eyes and in so doing relinquished a degree of control of her car. But she didn't have a chance. The oncoming truck, moving at an even greater speed, smashed into them head on.

Amy heard her mother screaming and the sound of glass shattering. She felt the impact most forcibly, was thrown forward and then back like a helpless rag doll.

‘Mom,' she said before she blacked out.

Amy was suddenly and inexplicably outside the car, floating above it in the air, just in front of the windscreen. She could see her mother inside, pinioned by the steering wheel against the front seat. And she was there, too, sitting next to her mother in the other seat. At least her body was there. Amy realized that she and her mother were both unconscious in the car.

Below her, there were other people milling around now. The driver of the truck which had struck their car, who was himself unscathed; other drivers whose cars were backed up behind because of the crash. Then she heard the sound of sirens and saw two state troopers arriving on their motorbikes.

I'm dying, Amy thought; no, I'm actually dead. I've already died and left my body. She could see that body. She was floating over herself, looking down at the empty shell.

Amy was not afraid. Nor did it matter to her that she was dead. In fact, she felt extremely happy, free of all pain and sadness, and without a care in the world.

Unexpectedly, Amy was being sucked forward as if by a giant vacuum hose. She was in that hose. It was not a hose, she discovered, but a long tunnel. She was being pulled up it by some great force. But she still felt good, not in the least upset, even though she was dead.

At the very end of the long tunnel she could see a tiny pinpoint of light. As she continued on her way, rushing towards the light, it grew bigger and bigger, and so much brighter. Soon she emerged from the tunnel, blinking, adjusting her eyes to the light. It was the most magnificent light. She was surrounded by it, enveloped in its warmth and brilliance. The light embraced her, made her feel lighthearted, and so happy. She had never experienced feelings like this ever in her life before. They were feelings of tranquillity and peace and unconditional love, and they came from the all-embracing light. She basked in it.

Amy was floating in the light, totally weightless; she had shed her cumbersome human body. And she realized she had entered another world, a different dimension, and that she was pure spirit.

Soon she became aware of other spirits, floating in the brilliant light. They were sending her love and warmth and they did so without speaking. But somehow they were communicating. She reciprocated their love, beaming it to them, and she knew they welcomed it.

The light changed, its white brilliance picking up
prisms of colour, all of them rainbow hues. Another spirit drew closer to her, accompanied her, and Amy understood that she was being guided now, gently wafted towards a destination by this spirit. She knew without being told that this spirit was an old soul, that her name was Marika. It was Marika who was moving her along, but tenderly so, and with great love.

The light was growing softer and softer, losing its sharpness. Amy was moving out of it and into the most beautiful landscape she had ever seen. It was a place without a blemish, perfection, paradise. And it was a place without pain, one that was filled with purity and goodness.

The landscape where Amy floated was one composed of green pastures, flower-filled glades, wooded hillsides above a shimmering blue lake. Surrounding this pastoral setting were mountains capped with glittering white snow, and everything was bathed in golden sunlight.

Floating over the glades were many spirits like herself. Somehow Amy knew that there were old spirits mingling with younger souls. And then she saw him. Her father. The sight of him took her breath away. She knew it was him. Even though he was in spirit form, pure essence, as she was, Amy felt that special love flowing from him to her, and it was the self-same love she remembered from her childhood.

At this moment she felt her mother's spirit floating towards her father. Her mother's aura was radiant and serene, not the crushed human body which Amy had left behind the wheel of the wrecked car. Her parents joined each other and came over to her. They spoke to her. Although no actual words were used, she
understood everything. They told her how much they loved her. They said they were waiting for her, but that she must go back for a while.
It is not time,
her mother was saying to her.
It was my time, Amy, but not yours. Not yet.
Their great love for her was enveloping her, and she was not afraid; she was happy.

Marika, the old soul guiding her, explained that she must move on. Soon they were floating through the bright light once more, entering a crystal cave that shimmered and radiated an intense and most powerful light.

Amy was immediately aware that she was in the presence of two women, that they were ancient spirits of great wisdom, and that some of their wisdom was going to be imparted to her. She was told by Marika that she would understand it all, understand the universe, the meaning of everything.

The cave was beyond imagining, made entirely of crystal rock formations and giant stalactites which glittered in the white light, sent out hundreds of thousands of prisms of coloured light, ranging from pale yellow to pink and blue.

Amy was momentarily blinded by the clarity of light in the crystal cave, and she blinked several times.

A moment later she saw more clearly than she had ever seen before. She saw her past life, saw herself, and she understood at once why she had failed in her earthly life. It was because of her negative approach, her apathy; and she was made to understand that she had wasted much, had thrown away the special gifts she had been given. The two women spirits explained this, and Amy felt contrite and sorry.

Then she saw Jake. She saw him at this very moment
in time, as if he were right here with her. But he was not. He was in a room somewhere, and he was with a woman, a woman he cared about. A woman he loved. Deeply loved. She recognized the fulfilment and warmth between them. Instantly Amy understood his life. She saw him in the past, in the present, in the future. His whole life was there for her to view, as if she were seeing it on film.

Now Marika was conveying something, saying that she must leave, must move on, but Amy did not want to go. She fought going. She wanted to stay here. Suddenly she was spinning out of the cave, pushed along by Marika.

Marika was urging her in a gentle way to go back to the tunnel. She did not want to and she fought it. She yearned to stay here in this paradise where there was only peace and happiness and unconditional love. But Marika would not permit it. She said she must return.

Amy was hurtling down the tunnel, moving through the darkness, leaving that shimmering dimension behind, leaving the light.

She felt a sudden push and there she was back on an earthly plane, floating again above her mother's wrecked car with their bodies trapped within.

Amy saw the truck-driver and the other drivers and state troopers still hovering near the car. And then an ambulance slowed to a stop. She continued to watch as her mother was removed from the car, and then her own body was lifted out and put on a stretcher.

With a sudden, awful jolt Amy went back into her body.

Eventually she opened her eyes. And then she
closed them again. She felt so tired, so exhausted. There was a pain in her head, a terrible pain as if someone had been hammering on her forehead. She fell into unconsciousness immediately.

Amy's aunt, Violet Parkinson and her daughter Mavis rarely, if ever, left Amy's side at the New Milford Hospital. Jake had to come and go because he had to attend to his business, had to work, but he was genuinely concerned about her, apprehensive about her reaction when she finally regained consciousness to learn that her mother had been killed in the terrible car crash.

Jake was also worried about Amy's own injuries. She was badly cut and bruised, and whilst the doctors believed she had no internal injuries, she
was
in a coma.

Now, on the third evening after the accident, Jake sat by the bed in the hospital, holding Amy's hand. They were alone for the time being. He had sent Mavis and Aunt Violet downstairs to have coffee and sandwiches, since they had apparently been sitting with Amy throughout the day.

His thoughts drifted for a while. He worked out some complicated wiring systems for Havers Hill in his head, and thought for a moment or two about Maggie, and then he looked up, startled, when Amy said: ‘I'm thirsty.'

Immediately bringing his attention to her, he exclaimed, ‘Amy, honey! Thank God! You're awake!'

‘I've been in another place, Jake,' she began in a whispery voice. ‘I want to tell you about it.'

He nodded. ‘I'll say you have, Amy. Unconscious
for three days. Did you say you were thirsty? Let me get you some water.' 

‘Jake!'

‘Yes, Amy?'

‘My mother's dead.'

He was so startled he gaped at her, and for a moment he was unable to say a word.

‘Don't tell me she isn't, trying to protect me, because I know she's dead.'

Jake, who had stood up, now bent closer to her, gave her a puzzled look. ‘Let me go and fetch the water, and tell the doctor you've regained consciousness, honey.'

‘I died too, Jake, but I came back. That's how I know my mother's dead. I saw her spirit with my father's spirit.'

Sitting down on the chair again, he asked gently, ‘Where, Amy?'

‘In Paradise, Jake. It's such a beautiful place. Full of light. A place you'd like, you've always been fascinated by light.'