‘No.’
‘Why not, for God’s sake?’
‘I wanted to see if the feeling would last, but it didn’t. It was a delusion. Everything remained as it had been. It didn’t solve anything.’
‘There you go again about solving things. Honestly, Marianne, if we reached for the suicide button every time we felt overwhelmed by problems in life we would die a thousand deaths before we reached adulthood.’
‘You forget, I am older than you and my bodily condition will only deteriorate further. I can’t reverse time. I’ve thought seriously about this for most of the last decade. I am certain now is the time to do it.’
‘I don’t think it’s enough. I don’t think your life is intolerable. If they followed the letter of the law, they wouldn’t let you do this.’
‘Please, Dorrie,’ Marianne said, summoning the last of her energy and courage, ‘I have made up my mind and I will go through with this. Please let us end as friends. I know that everything you have said comes from the heart, and I am truly sorry to desert you – perhaps I am being cowardly and selfish – but I know it’s my time to go.’ With difficulty Marianne got to her feet, and holding on to the metal support which had been placed to help her get up, she stood there waiting for Dorrie to come to her. Dorrie shook her head but then she got to her feet and walked stiffly over to where Marianne was standing beside her chair.
‘I’m still angry with you,’ she said, with a distinct catch in her voice, ‘but of course I give you my love, and if there is a God I ask for his blessing on you.’ They embraced for a long time, both fighting back their tears, then Dorrie broke away and added, ‘But, listen, it’s never too late to change your mind. I’ll keep my phone on all night. All you need to do is say, “I’ve changed my mind.” Remember, that’s all you have to say. No reason is needed. I’ll take care of the clinic and Callum and everything else. Remember, it’s never too late.’
Wonderful Dorrie, thought Marianne, she still hasn’t given up on me.
Jake and Leah were both at the office on Wednesday morning when Leah received a message from her parents that they were going to Cambridge to see Marianne and would not be back until the following evening. She was immediately suspicious and tried to call them but without success.
‘Jeez,’ she said, ‘what is it about Cambridge that is conspiring to give me bad vibes?’ She badly needed time to have a proper conversation with Jake but he was heading into a meeting with Charlie and the lawyers.
‘Probably just going to keep her company – get her to drop this plan once and for all,’ Jake said. ‘Keep trying to call them.’
When Leah finally managed to speak to her mother she had not been reassured. They would be sitting down and having a serious discussion with Gran; they would do what they could to help her; nobody wanted to say goodbye to her and yes, Dad thought she might have changed her mind. If she had, then that would be good, but they had to respect her wishes.
Leah reported this conversation to Jake but he was so preoccupied that he didn’t give it as much attention as he might have done – or as Leah clearly felt it deserved. The earlier report that Marianne had changed her mind (he had subliminally manipulated the message to suit his own hope) was the version he was determined to cling on to – despite the warning signal that she had twice declined to return his calls. He wanted to say that they couldn’t do anything anyway, but he knew this sentiment was not one which would be well received by Leah, so he contented himself with reassuring comments.
34
Marianne knew that however hard it was telling Dorrie, telling Anna was going to be far more painful. At least she had been honest with Dorrie. Thinking about it now, she had been cowardly and deceitful towards Anna. Pretending nothing was happening in her life; talking about Christmas when she would no longer be alive. She had written Anna a long letter saying all the things she knew it would be impossible to say to her face. She had put £1,000 in cash in the envelope and had also left her some money in her will – perhaps too much, Callum and Helen might think, given the state of her finances. When it came to the moment she knew she would have to be strong – brutal, even – or she would never get through it.
Callum and Helen arrived about four in the afternoon. Anna had made up the spare room for them – surprised that they were staying the night mid-week. She had looked suspiciously at Marianne who had pretended not to notice. Helen busied herself in the kitchen making tea. When Anna announced she was ready to leave Callum said, ‘Stay and have some tea with us, Anna, there is something we need to talk about… something important we need to tell you.’
Anna sat down. She looked enquiringly from Callum to Marianne. Marianne looked at the ground. Helen came in with tea and a plate of little pink cakes she had brought with her. She poured tea for everyone and put cups in front of them. No one spoke. No one touched the tea or the cakes. Then Marianne looked up towards Anna with an anguished expression. ‘Anna, you have been the most wonderful friend to me and I could never have managed without you these last few years, but…’ She hated the sound of what she was saying; the words seemed trite and commonplace.
‘What is this about?’ said Anna, looking alarmed.
‘It’s time to say goodbye. I am going to the AD clinic tomorrow.’
‘I don’t understand?’
‘Assisted dying, Anna. To end my life.’
‘I know what AD is. Are they making you do this? Don’t let them. How can you think of this?’ she said, turning to Callum.
‘It’s Marianne’s choice,’ said Callum. ‘I have tried to persuade her against it.’
‘No, you can’t – you can’t do this! Marianne, just tell them no!’
‘Callum is right, Anna. It is entirely my own choice.’
‘I don’t believe it. Why you say nothing to me before?’
‘I should have done, Anna, but I didn’t have the courage.’
‘You must say no to her,’ Anna said, turning again to Callum. ‘She is just a bit depressed. Old people, you know, sometimes it’s hard for them. Sometimes they get low. She will cheer up again. This is my fault, I let her get miserable, but I can make her better,’ and, getting up, she ran around the low table and fell on her knees in front of Marianne. ‘I will cheer you up. We will play some games together. Tell them we are good team. You say that to me once. We are a good team. I will move into the house – maybe you are alone too much. Yes, I will move in and keep you more cheerful. I am sorry, I should have said before. I didn’t realise you feel so bad. I can live here with you. Why you never tell me? I can cheer you up. They don’t understand. We are good together. I will help you. I’m sorry… I’m sorry…’
The tears, which Marianne dreaded, began to flow. Anna put her head on Marianne’s lap and sobbed. Marianne stroked her hair but said nothing. She could feel the tears running down her own cheeks. There was so much she wanted to say to reassure Anna, but she knew she would choke if she tried to speak.
Eventually Helen got up and came over to Anna, taking her by the shoulder. ‘Come on, Anna dear, you’re upsetting Marianne.’ The effect on Anna was electric. She leapt to her feet, pushing Helen backwards.
‘Upsetting? I’m upsetting Marianne!’ she shouted at Helen. ‘She say tomorrow she will go to the clinic to die – so she is upset and I am upset, but why you are not upset? You and Callum – you just watch. She is your own mother, flesh and blood,’ she yelled, turning to Callum. ‘You want to take her away like a dog – how do you say it? – to be put down. Put down like a dog. And you,’ she said, looking back towards Helen, ‘you are even worse. This is your idea, I am sure.’