She awoke to her radio alarm and the beeps for the seven o’clock news. For a while she thought she was still dreaming, as the discussion was all about assisted dying. Then she realised that the lead story was about abuses in AD clinics, and particularly the De Zeeou chain, into whose tender care she was about to place herself. How ironic, she thought, but it makes no difference to me. My case is as straightforward as it comes.
By eight o’clock Jake and Leah were settled into their seats on the train at King’s Cross, armed with coffee and croissants. Jake sent a text to Anna telling her that they were on the train, and then started to check the news feeds.
The Chronicle’s lead story was already being picked up by the main networks. Jake skimmed the headlines quickly: AD clinics in new scandal. The ugly truth behind how AD clinics operate. De Zeeou chain accused of bending the rules. Safeguards not followed by AD clinics. Daisy Chain pays kickbacks to NHS.
Where did he stand on AD now? he wondered. Did he still hold to his original instinct that AD was both a basic human right and a blessing for many who were close to the end of their life? If that was his view, then why was he rushing off to try to persuade his great-aunt from taking what could be considered a perfectly rational decision to end her life a few weeks before her eighty-ninth birthday?
As Jake sat trying to reconcile his conflicting views, Leah’s phone rang and he listened to her animated conversation with first her mother and then her father. It was clear that they were far from happy to be told that he and Leah were on their way to Cambridge.
‘We’re in the shit for even thinking of coming…’ she said, when the call was over. ‘You, in particular for putting me up to it – which I have to say is a gross fucking insult, as if I’m not capable of thinking for myself.’ Despite her language, it seemed to Jake that Leah was remarkably calm. ‘There’s no point in talking to them anymore,’ she said. ‘We’ll just turn up and see how we get on.’
Their train left on time, but after half an hour came to a halt in the middle of the countryside. Jake gazed out across the flat East Anglian field, the long straight plough furrows leading his eyes towards a group of isolated agricultural buildings, still partly shrouded in the morning mist, which for a moment reminded him of his parents’ home in Dorset. He looked at his watch; the train was due in just before nine and Anna thought it unlikely that Marianne would leave for the clinic before ten, so they should have enough time even if they were delayed. In any event, Anna had told them she was going to the house and would watch the driveway from a distance. If they set out for the clinic before he and Leah got to Cambridge, she would warn them.
Christ, I hope we do get to the house on time, he thought. Imagine if she is already at the clinic. Do we burst into her room and throw ourselves at her feet and beg her not to kill herself? Surely that would be unethical, as well as unkind to her and deeply resented by Callum and Helen. The clinic may not even let us through the door.
As the minutes passed, Jake and Leah glanced at each other anxiously.
‘No more news from Anna?’ said Leah.
‘No – she’s in position, but no sign of movement.’
‘Do you have a strategy for when we get there?’
‘No – play it by ear, I guess. What’s wrong with this fucking train?’
Jake shrugged. Then, as if to answer her question, an announcement came over the tannoy, apologising for the delay; they were being held behind another train due to a person on the line near Royston. Leah looked at him. ‘Does that mean what I think it means?’
‘Probably.’
‘Jeez…’
‘I know…’
‘It’s as if someone’s mocking us…’
The morning was tense but also weirdly calm. They all sat at the table having breakfast, seemingly intent on pretending this was just like any other day. Helen talked about the girls while Callum looked at news stories on his tablet. Catching Marianne’s eye, he turned the screen away from her so she wouldn’t see what he was reading.
After breakfast, she began a serious talk with Callum. As ever, he seemed very aware of his responsibility to make sure that she was really determined to go ahead.
‘Mum, I know this isn’t the first time we’ve talked about it but I want to be sure you really know what you’re doing.’
‘I know you do, darling.’
‘It’s not too late. I can just call the clinic and we can forget all about it?’
‘You could, but that’s not what I want.’
‘You’re really sure?’
‘Please, darling, if you love me, just let me go the way I want.’
‘Oh, Mum…’ and, kneeling by her chair, Callum put his head on Marianne’s shoulder.
Although Callum wasn’t usually very physical they held each other for a long time and Marianne said a silent apology for the wrong she might have done him all those years ago. I know today will be harder for him than it will be for me, she thought, and that’s why I must remain strong.
It was another forty minutes before their train began to move. Forty minutes for Jake and Leah to contemplate the hideous irony of their situation and to wonder if they had any chance of getting to Marianne’s house before she left for the clinic. Between regularly checking the time and exchanging texts with Anna, they sought to reassure each other that whatever happened, they were doing the right thing in coming.
A few moments before they were finally due to arrive at Cambridge, Jake received a text from Anna that Marianne, Callum and Helen were getting into the car. Fuck, he thought, that’s a disaster. Exactly what I didn’t want. This crazy venture might have had some remote chance of success if we had arrived at her house before she left, but now? Moments later he received another text from Anna with the address of the AD clinic, and then she was calling him. It would take Callum at least twenty minutes, maybe half an hour, to drive to the clinic. If they got straight into a taxi they could get there first. That way they could be waiting in reception when Marianne arrived.
Marianne’s journey to the clinic passed in almost complete silence. No one now pretended this was just a routine drive. One or two staccato words were exchanged between Callum and Helen about directions to the clinic, cutting into an atmosphere which seemed entirely devoid of oxygen. Marianne, sitting in the front seat beside Callum, shut her eyes and tried to turn off the power to her brain, but absurd and trivial thoughts kept crowding in: had she got her reading glasses; where did she leave her purse; who would empty the commode in her bedroom now Anna was gone? Poor Anna – what a way to have to say goodbye for ever.
When they arrived at the clinic, a reception party was there to meet them; Nikhita Singh, the nurse who had been keeping in touch with her, the clipboard woman and an orderly with a wheelchair. Before she knew it, she was being settled into the wheelchair while she heard the clipboard woman say to Callum, ‘We had you down for two family members present, but it seems…’
‘Gran…’
Suddenly the cordon around her broke apart and there was a young woman advancing on her and clasping her around the neck. Such was Marianne’s state of mind, her determination to blank out the immediate present, that she instinctively recoiled, unable to comprehend what was happening.
Several people started to speak at once.
‘Leah!’ said Callum.
‘It’s only me, Gran,’ said Leah.
‘This is a disgrace,’ said Helen, turning towards Jake. ‘How dare you come and interfere like this?’
‘This is not helpful to Mrs Davenport,’ said the clipboard woman.