You know, life can throw just about anything at you.
There was a cardiologist at our local childrens clinic named Edward Thompson. As with the rest of us, every summer hed spend a month or so as the doctor at a childrens summer campkeeping an eye on the kitchen, weighing the kids, checking bedside tables, dabbing cuts with iodine… unless something truly major happened, touch wood. At that point, Edward was around 38 or 40, very fit, salt-and-pepper hair, a bit curly, had that classic English profile, striking eyes and eyebrows… lets just say, the mums found him very easy on the eyes.
One day, Edward told me this story.
So, it was 1985, right during that big crackdown on drinkingif you got caught boozing, it wasnt just a slap on the wrist. You could lose your job, and theyd bump you down the council housing list. They didnt mess around.
It was the last session of the summer at camp, August. The final night. All business as usualkids wide awake, darting through each others dorms, smearing toothpaste and iodine on the ones fast asleep. The camp leaders pretended to chase them but really, they were sneaking off for a nip of wine or a splash of gin, just as tradition called for.
Of course, Edward wasnt one to slack off, doctor or not. The night passed in the usual whirlfed the kids early in the morning, loaded them onto the coachesand about an hour later, they pulled up in Oxford, right by the Playhouse Theatre. Kids offloaded, handed back to parents, checks and double-checksno one missing, all sorted!
A quick glassor twoof something at the bus stop, and he set off for home; they already had the table set. The camp session was over, and straight after lunch, he and his wife, Helen, were flying off to his mums place in Bournemouth for a lovely late-September getaway. Bliss!
Well, then it hit him… the wine, the sleepless night, more wine, the jostling coach, the wine, the summer heat all building up… Next thing he knew, hed flopped under a hedgerow at the edge of the city square and just conked out.
By then, the rest of the camp staff had already scattered back home. Only Annthe nursespotted him, tried to rouse him, ha ha, but not a hope, he was out cold, snoring away quite contently! Ann, bless her, realised hed likely get the boot if anyone got wind of thispublic inebriation, trip to the station, job on the line and all that, especially considering how serious the authorities were being then. And she was just a decent person. So, she didnt leave him.
Luckily, Ann lived just a hop away, on Wellington Road, number 84. Some good soul helped get Edward mostly upright, and she pretty much dragged him herselfhe could at least move his legs a bitback to her room in a four-room shared flat.
A couple hours later, he woke upnot because hed sobered up, mind, but because all that wine needed a way out…
He tried to stand, muttering something, but Ann nearly leapt on top of him, clapped her hand over his mouth, urging him in a whisper not to make noise. He was totally out of it but really had to goproperly desperate, you know? But she kept shushing him.
Turns out her neighbours were, to put it lightly, not the friendliest. Total busybodies, would make anyones life miserable. Ann was a respectable single woman, and if the old ladies next door saw a man in her room, her life would be living hellgossip, drama, the whole lot.
Of course, he felt for her, but it didnt exactly make the need to pee any less urgent. On the contrary, things were about to reach critical mass, and he told her so, like any honest bloke would. Ann was a nurse after all, so she fetched a bucket, stepped out, came back later and took it away.
Phew… crisis averted, world righted!
Thats when it dawned on him that he was two hours late homesupposed to be zipping up his suitcase, probably with Helen, his in-laws, godparents, and the whole extended family all sitting at the table, and by now ringing up every one of his colleagues. Next stop: panic in the local hospitals! Dreadful.
He tried to explain this to Ann, with his best charades and whispers, making it clear that while he did truly sympathise with her troubled living situation, if he didnt get home in five minutes flat, her nosey neighbours were going to seem like saints compared to what his own family would do.
They argued a little, and Ann hatched a plan. One of her neighbours wasnt home, the second could be sent off to the corner shop, and the third shed distract in the kitchen chatting about the camp shift. He, meanwhile, was to slip into the hallway, creep out silently, and close the door behind him, quietly as anythingnot to slam it.
So, the first neighbour toddled off to the shop… the other one was fiddling about in the kitchen… Ann was in there rattling the tea things, covering any noise hed make…
Off went his shoesheld both in his right hand, toes inching down the hallway in socks, tiptoeing toward freedom…
With his left hand, he slid the bolt back…
A massive squeal from the back of the flat! And from behinda shock of a greeting from an unmistakably posh voice, the very voice of his mother-in-laws best friend: Edward Thompson, hello there!
The shoes dropped with a crash he shuffled across the flat putting them on, yanked the front door open with a click and as he left, without even glancing back, he called, Afternoon, Bella
No need to lookhed recognise Bellas voice anywhere, just as he knew exactly how shed liven up the tale for his mother-in-law, painting the whole affair with flair and embellishment. And whod believe him, really, after being caught red-handed in socks, shoes in hand, sneaking around?
Half an hour later, he made it home. Bella hadnt called yet. The house was abuzzEdward, we were starting to panic! Come on, the taxis here already, last call for the airport! and all the usual commotion of a big, keen family.
They made it down to Bournemouth to see his mum for their holiday, but for days afterward, every time the phone rang, Edward would jump out of his skin, thinking it was the dreaded call from Helens mum. Hed dash across the flat every time the phone went, wouldnt set foot on the beachafraid to miss that call. Anxiety made it impossible to sleep or eat.
Finally, after a few days, his mum caught him in the kitchen and pinned him down. He confessed the whole saga, every absurd detail.
She just said, Oh, son, I do believe youlike in that old songbut I really cant see anyone else buying it. I cant do much to help, but Ill handle the phones while youre here; no one else will pick up. When were back home, thoughwell, thatll just have to take care of itself. Try to get some rest, will you?
A month on, they flew home. Edwards nerves were shot; hed spun every possible scenario in his head about what awaited him. When the plane landed, he dawdled as long as he could, letting everyone else disembark until even the flight attendant was giving him the evil eye, and Helen was urging him on. He literally couldnt stand up, completely frozenhappens with big stress sometimesso Helen pretty much dragged him along until he could shuffle out.
Back in those days, youd walk across the field from the plane into the arrivals hall. Outside, everyone had already been picked up and whisked away except for his in-laws, who were standing there waving as if nothing had happened at all, grinning from ear to ear.
Oh, there you both are! We were beginning to worry! Everyones gone already, and youre still missing! Helen, youve got such a lovely tan, you look so refreshed! Edward, why do you look so pale and thin? Are you feeling alright?
He looked at their faces, full of concern but also clearly savouring his discomfort, and couldnt believe hed loved and respected these two for so many years.
They got home to a spread on the tablecheers, gasps, stories, questionsbut not a peep about Bella. He thought, fine, suit yourselves, enjoy this little game, Ill wait too.
A month passed. He lost nearly a stone, wasnt sleeping, heart all over the place, work a messliving like a proper zombie. Booze didnt help, tasted like water, and the instant he had a proper drink, he felt sick.
November rolled aroundbonfire parties, family dinners, all the relations gathered, noise, cheers, toasts, his mother-in-law across the table from him…
And he simply lost it.
He leaned forward on his elbows, almost shouting across the table, So, Mum, hows your friend Bella doing these days, eh?!
Her answer nearly made him fall out of his chair with laughterthe kind thats half hysteria, half relief, and had the whole family freaked out as he roared, draped himself over the table, and collapsed onto the floor, cackling away for a good five minutes.
Someone splashed water in his face, he calmed himself, sat up, poured himself a glass and downed it with real gusto, finally feeling alive again.
No one ever worked out why hed reacted so madly to his mother-in-laws sad reply: Oh, Edward, that very day you left for your holiday, poor Bella had a little stroke and lost her speech…Bella can’t even tell a story anymore. Doctors say shell likely never speak again.
All the months of dread, the sleepless nights, the twitchy beach walks and missed mealsgone, like a spell broken. Edward burst out laughing. It wasnt wickedness or relief at Bellas misfortune, but just the absurd release, the full-circle twist that only life can deliver: all those feverish fears of disgrace, and the one person who could have told the tale was now permanently silent.
He wiped tears from his eyes, grinning sheepishly into the bewildered faces around him. Later that night, Helen squeezed his hand, and he managed to share the real storybucket and allbetween gulps of nervous giggles and gasps of disbelief.
Years later, whenever the family gathered, the story might sneak out in whispers or a sly winknever the full version, never with names, always just a trace of hilarity and fondness for how wild and unpredictable life could be. And Edward, with a streak of white brightening his curls, would raise a toast: To good luck, old friends, and secrets that no one will ever, ever believe.
And after that, he slept soundlyfor the first time in monthsfinally at peace with the beautiful chaos that made him, above all things, human.
