The Last Wish
No… I wont make it home again… sighed Jack, writhing in pain, his breath thick and strange. And Ill never see Emily again. I wanted to propose to her. Didnt get the chance… Why is this happening to me?
Oh, dont you worry so much, love, smiled the nurse, noticing how deathly pale the young man grew as the ambulance doors shut. Itll all be right as rain.
Doubt it… Jack croaked, grimacing.
After that, he just watched, silent and wide-eyed, as the doctors rushed around him, preparing for surgery. The corridor felt like a tunnel stretching into forever.
*****
Jack had never liked hospitals.
His deep-rooted dislike dated back to childhood hospitals always hurt him, and worst of all, no one ever apologised for the emotional trauma.
Oh, come off it, Jackie! Dont be such a cry-baby, laughed a nurse, pricking his finger for a blood test. Youre almost off to school and youre bawling like a little girl. Arent you ashamed of yourself?
Jack blinked at her through tears, squirming and clutching his hand, wanting more than anything to escape the treatment room. He wasnt ashamed. It simply hurt both in body and heart.
When he and his mum left the surgery and crossed the cold steps outside, hed repeat, again and again, that hed never set foot in a hospital. Ever.
Yes, thats right never, Jack said dramatically. Id rather die than ever go back in there.
My love, dont say things like that, his mother tittered, smoothing his hair. Doctors are here so people stay well and live long, good lives. Theyre on our side. Theres nothing to be frightened of.
Yeah, right… Good for them, Jack sniffed, staring at the puffy pad taped to his finger. Let them treat themselves and leave me be!
No point recounting how he squealed blue murder when dragged by his parents to the dentist to have a tooth pulled.
They could hear him through the closed window, two floors down.
Those memories stuck to him, heavy and cold.
And so, as he grew up, hospitals and all the folk in them became, in Jacks mind, shadowy villains. He kept as far away as possible.
Still, as luck would have it, Fate caught up with him. One wet Thursday evening in Reading, his appendix stitched itself in knots, the pain as sharp as new winter frost on the Thames.
He was supposed to take Emily out to dinner, but instead found himself doubled over. Emily had no choice but to ring an ambulance.
Jack, we need the ambulance you can barely move…
Itll wear off. Seriously, Em, dont… he pleaded.
Dont be daft! Youre clammy and grey. My sister had appendicitis looked just the same.
And so, Jack (once more against his will) landed in Royal Berkshire Hospital, a pale shape trembling beneath hospital sheets.
Ill spare you the gory details.
As he imagined the surgeons about to delve inside his inner workings, Jack turned the colour of porridge, utterly deflated.
When he saw two porters quietly wheel a trolley with someone covered toe-to-crown by a sheet, Jacks heart dropped straight into his mattress.
Thats it, Ill never see home again… he thought, pain throbbing through him, strangled by dread. Emily… Ill never get to propose. I wanted to. Didnt make it… Why me?
Oh, dont go worrying so, the nurse repeated gently, seeing Jacks pallor. Youll bounce back, youll see.
He just grunted.
Really, theres nothing to it very routine, and you came in just in time. If youd waited, things mightve got sticky.
The operation went smoothly; all Jacks gloom and nightmares of the scalpel were for naught. He barely felt a thing. For the first time in years, positive feelings seeped into his memories of hospitals. Unexpected, but true.
He dozed off on the operating table, and when he awoke, all the fear was behind him. He was moved to a ward and fell into a deep, solid sleep.
He only burst to the surface now and then, blinking as nurses switched the drip, before drifting back under.
In the morning…
…Jack discovered in the soft half-light a silver-haired man in the bed beside him.
Just my luck, he thought wearily. Hell probably want to regale me with tales of his youth all morning.
Jack was in no mood for a chat. He wanted peace and quiet, to be invisible.
He didnt even call Emily.
He sent a single message Im fine, dont worry and buried his phone under the pillow. He brooded about the absurdity of landing in hospital at precisely the wrong time.
Hed lived with Emily over a year, and last night hed planned to propose: booked a table in a smart little bistro, slipped the head waiter a note about when to bring the ring, arranged for the pianist to play Emilys favourite song…
Hed wanted everything perfect.
But things had spun out of his control. Instead of laughing with his girlfriend and daydreaming about their wedding, Jack was in a hospital bed with some old man for company.
But to Jacks surprise, the pensioner kept his peace. After a soft Good morning, he said nothing else, only muttered to himself now and then, making phone calls that never connected. Ever since morning, the old man rang and rang, until finally his ancient pay-as-you-go phone died.
He had no charger it was probably lost somewhere in his house. None of the staff had one for such an antique, either.
The old man gazed at the black screen, tears glistening in his eyes. Jack began to feel queasy with guilt maybe hed invented the worst about his room-mate.
After some dithering, Jack perched on the edge of his bed and, not wanting to seem rude, quietly asked if everything was all right.
I cant get through to my son, the old man said, his voice thick, heavy.
Doesnt he know youre here? Jack couldnt help asking.
He knows… A nurse rang him when I came in. But he still refuses to speak to me. We fell out, you see. Last winter, just before my birthday. He tried to send me to a care home so he could sell my house. I wouldnt have it. Wasnt just about the house…
With a slight, crooked smile, the old man told Jack how, a few days before, hed been walloped by a heart attack.
The doctors managed to stabilise him, but warned an operation was needed.
Its due day after tomorrow. Im scared Ill snuff it before I even reach the table.
Nonsense! Honestly, said Jack stoutly. Doctors want people to live longer, thats their whole job. Youll be fine. They took my appendix yesterday and look Im still here.
The man managed a grin but didnt bother explaining the difference between an appendix and a heart.
Ive only got the one companion left my dog. Titch. Hes out there, somewhere on the streets. I wanted to ask my son to look after him, if anything happens to me. Or at least find him a good home. The neighbours… Well, theyve enough pets of their own, and theyre not likely to go looking for Titch. My son could see to my last wish. Its only fair hell be getting the house and the garden plot hes always wanted to flog. Only he wont answer my calls. And when the nurse called, he flatly refused to even speak to me. Thats the sort of son Ive got…
Jack murmured, lost in thought.
I do worry for poor Titch. Whatll he do? Wholl care for him? Hows he going to survive alone?
Odd old chap, Jack mused. Major surgery coming and all he thinks about is some dog.
But as the man told the tangled little story of how he and Titch found each other, Jack shifted his view. Titch meant more than the world to him.
Found him on my birthday, six months ago. Son didnt phone, and theres no other family left. My dear wife God rest her has been gone five years now. But heres the oddest bit the night before my birthday, she appeared to me in a dream with a dog on a lead. She smiled, waved, and the dog was pulling to get to me. The very next day, when I nipped down the shop, out in the rain was this little dog tied to the railings. No one knew whose it was. I waited hours for the owner, but no one came. Couldnt just leave him.
So you took him in?
I did. I know it sounds daft, but its like she gave me Titch as a present from wherever she is now. She knows Im on my own, and thought I needed a mate. I truly believe that.
Jack, not really convinced but wanting to be kind, just nodded.
We got on marvellously. Spent weeks looking for his owner posters everywhere. No luck. Im glad, really. Titch is more than a friend or a dog. Hes my reason for seeing out the years, if you know what I mean.
That night, Jack kept thinking of the dog out on the streets and the son who blanked all his fathers calls.
To know your own fathers in hospital and just ignore him…
When Jack closed his eyes, dreams twisted and melted: a small mongrel wandered the streets, eyes anxious and damp. Jack followed after, step for step, though he had no idea why.
He just felt he should.
He woke suddenly to desperate wheezing the old man was gasping, clutching his chest.
Want me to get a nurse? Jack asked, leaping from his bed.
No… not now… the old man wheezed. Phone my son, Mark. Can you? Numbers on a scrap of paper, on the bedside table. Tell him if he can come, Id like to say goodbye. And if he cant, just ask him to see Titch gets a good home. I dont think Ill make it, but Ill rest easier knowing Titch wont be alone.
Jack hesitated, then hands trembling found the number and tapped it in.
Hello? Is that Mark? Im one of your fathers fellow patients…
He nearly used the old mans full name, before realising theyd never officially introduced themselves. Spent a whole day talking, only to skip pleasantries.
Stanley. Im Stanley, the old man rasped.
Jack relayed the news. He isnt well and hed like to see you, if you can come.
Dying, is he? Mark replied, oddly animated. What wards he in? Which hospital?
Royal Berkshire Hospital. Third floor, Room 314.
Jack also gave him the address, then ran to find the nurse, who was dozing behind her desk.
Explaining breathlessly, Jack returned to the ward.
How are you, Mr Stanley? he asked softly, holding his hand. The nurse will fetch a doctor, just hold on. Its not your time yet. And your sons coming. He promised. Mr Stanley, can you hear me? Just dont close your eyes…
Stanleys heart stilled before the sleepy doctor and nurse hurried in. The doctor checked the wrist pulse, fingered the old mans neck, shone a torch into his pupils. He muttered something and walked out.
Some twenty minutes later, the very same porters Jack had seen the night before came in, silent and solemn as winter rain.
*****
Your father died virtually in my arms, Jack told Mark, who arrived the next day.
Well, thats for the best, Mark said flatly. At least he went quickly and didnt drag things out or make us all miserable. Looking after old people is a nightmare, especially when youve got a family and work. At least thats one thing sorted.
Stanley really wanted you to find a good home for his dog Titch, Jack said.
The mutt? Oh, yes, that stray he picked up. Whod want the thing? He refused to move into the care home because of it. I kept telling him itd be better someone would look after him properly, hed have company. He never listened…
It was your fathers last wish, Jack said gravely, fixing Mark with a hard look. Surely you can manage that? The house the one you wanted its all yours now.
Mark only glanced at Jack, unspeaking, and gathered up Stanleys old brick phone and the note with his number from the bedside table; the sum total of Stanleys possessions. Without a farewell, he left, the door swinging behind him.
Jack lay back on his pillow and reflected. He truly felt for the old chap. Seventy-seven, but people saw a hundred nowadays.
Stanley could have made it too, with a kinder fate.
Fates a mad thing maze-like and peculiar. Now Titch wandered somewhere, unwanted and alone.
Doubt Mark will do as his father wished, Jack thought sadly. Hell sell the place. Titch… might stay on the street if the neighbours dont feed him. And if they dont…?
That night, Jack dreamed Stanley was wandering through town, calling for his dog again and again, no answer. Tears tracked down his cheeks.
Jack watched, powerless, and surprising even himself, could not stop his own tears welling.
He couldnt remember the last time hed let himself cry. Perhaps not since the day he decided hed never blub like a girl again.
These strange dreams clung to him even after hed returned home. Emily could not fail to notice his distant sadness each morning.
Jack love, are you really all right?
Course. Just lost in thought, thats all.
What about, if you dont mind me asking?
I had this old man in hospital with me. Pensioner really. Heart attack, but they didnt get to the op in time. He only had a dog left and he was so anxious about it.
No family whod take the dog?
Only his son, but theyd not spoken for ages. Stanley tried to call every day from hospital, but the son wouldnt answer. When he finally turned up, his dad was already gone. I told him about the dog… but honestly, he only cared about the house. While I was there, he called an estate agent to ask how quickly he could sell and whether he had to wait for probate. I keep thinking about Titch, even though I never saw him. I cant stop worrying. Such a nice chap I bet his dog was too.
Why dont we go and check? Emily suggested. If the dogs still around, well bring him home.
Really? You wouldnt mind a dog?
Not at all. Id love to bring someone else into our little family. Walks, playing fetch… itd be brilliant.
Jack grinned and reached to kiss her. Hang on, though, Ive no idea what the address is.
Leave it to me the hospital will know. Well need to stop for some chocolate and a decent tin of coffee.
Turns out, a slab of milk chocolate and a fancy jar of roast coffee can work wonders. The receptionist, though she recognised Jack, was adamant about data protection. But when Emily smiled and explained, and Jack told the story, she scribbled the address on a scrap torn from her notepad.
In less than an hour, Jack and Emily pulled up outside the terraced house.
They wandered the path by the sagging garden fence. No dog to be seen.
A neighbour, a woman about Jacks mums age, peered over the fence.
Hello there, are you lost? Or after someone? she said, letting herself out the gate. No one lives here now, you know.
I know I shared a hospital ward with Stanley. He passed away while I was with him.
Oh you poor love what a shame. He was a good, gentle soul. Not many like him about anymore. His son didnt even organise a proper funeral, would you believe. Did it all hush-hush, and now hes in a hurry to do the place up and flog it.
Im not surprised by Mark… Did you ever see Stanleys dog? He worried constantly about him.
Oh, Titch? Of course! He never left the front gate, just waited and watched the road. Hoped Stanley would come back for him. Didnt. He howled all that first night, and the next. Most nights, really. Poor mite. I tried to be kind, but Mark Stanleys son came, shouted at the dog and drove him off. He hasnt been back in days now. Probably gone back to his family.
Do you know where he took Titch? And what did he look like, exactly?
Small brown thing, sweet little face I have a snap somewhere on my phone. Here look.
She fished out her mobile and showed them a picture: a butter-coloured corgi with enormous ears.
What a lovely corgi! Emily smiled. So sweet! Sorry, but Mark didnt mention where he took him, did he?
Said something about finding someone to rehome him. No way was he taking Titch himself never liked animals. I always said, how does such a lovely man end up with a son like that? Riddle me that.
Jack and Emily thanked her and got back in the car. They were both silent, weighed down with guilt. If only theyd come sooner…
Hopefully Mark had done the right thing, but if not? If Titch had been dumped?
They checked the nearby streets, asked around. Nobody had seen a stray corgi. No clue.
When Jack tried ringing Mark, he found himself blocked. Calls cut off, texts undelivered.
We can at least hope Titch is safe somewhere, Emily said at last, quietly, as she looked across at Jack.
She could tell he didnt really believe it, but it was better than nothing. Sometimes, you need to hope for the best it makes the ache bearable.
And then fate, ever-meddling, bent the road.
As traffic backed up on the ring road, Emily turned down a country lane for a shortcut.
A few miles in, she suddenly braked gently and pointed, half-whispering, to the verge there sat a small dog, muddy and lost, that looked just like the neighbours photo.
Jack could that be Titch?
Looks like him, he said. Lets check.
They pulled in, got out, and walked towards the dog. The closer they drew, the surer they became.
Titch! Jack called softly.
The dog, whose back had been to them, spun around, then stared. Jack squatted, holding out his hand, gentle and tentative.
Titch, dont be scared, mate. I was with Stanley, your old man. He wanted me to look after you. All right if we take you home?
Titch froze, nose twitching. There it was Stanleys scent, even after all these days.
Tail wagging furiously, Titch edged forward, then pressed his head to Jacks hand. Jack stroked him: once, twice, again. The prickly tears glistened in Titchs eyes. Jack saw them, so did Emily, whose own tears brightened her cheeks as she watched the pair.
Soon, the three of them were settled in the car, heading home. Jack and Emily joyful to have taken the long way round and found Titch, rehomed by Marks carelessness.
And Titch? He was content, for hed finally found someone who needed him someone who wouldnt abandon him.
Now, he had new people, a new home and hands that still, faintly, smelt of Stanley. What else, in the end, could a soul want?
*****
So much for a devoted son, Jack muttered back at their flat. He called that rehoming the dog. Id love to give him a piece of my mind.
Let it go, Jack. What matters is Titch is with us. Karmall catch up when Marks old and alone, maybe his children wont pick up the phone. Then hell get it. But itll be too late by then.
Yeah, youre probably right… Jack agreed, glancing over at Titch dozing on the sofa, his paws twitching, looking for all the world like he was smiling in his sleep.
Jack thought he knew who Titch was running to, and who he was grinning for…
Say hello to Stanley for us, will you? Jack whispered, and crept to the cupboard where a small ring box was tucked amongst the jumpers.
That very evening, Jack finally asked Emily to marry him not in a restaurant, not with music and candles, but here and now and with Titch snoozing under the lamplight.
Because hed learned, really learned, that waiting for a special moment might mean you never get the chance.
Best to do it now, when you can.
And Emily said yes, straight away.
Thats the whole odd tale…
