CHAPTER 3

Thursday June 22nd 2000

My head was totally spinning. I had just put the phone down on the worst phone call of my life, and was still struggling in my own head with what to do, and how to do it.
Who do l call? Who do l tell first?
In those few seconds l was trying to map out the next few days, and weeks, of my life, and the order l needed to do it in.
Getting to London, the funeral, after the funeral, the family, Nan, the family home . . . . . . the rest of my life!
I knew l couldn't fall apart, even if l wanted to. What good would l be to anyone then? And l knew there was a lot of good l needed to do. I soon realised that in a time of immense trauma you grab onto small forms of normality to try and keep you stable, grounded and even sane. With the news l had been given, just five minutes previously, some people would have just fallen apart there and then, physically and mentally. Everyone's reaction is different. The normality l grabbed onto was the fact that, that evening l was scheduled to work as a DJ in the local nightclub. It was already nagging at me that l couldn't just phone up at fifteen minutes notice and say l wouldn't be there, even if my Mum had just died. If ever was the time to get into, or out of, anything, l now had the perfect reason to, yet l wanted the normality of my current life whilst l struggled with what was going on. In my mind if l could live my life as best l could, before l had received the phone call, l would be better equipped to deal with everything after l'd received the call. I know many people later wondered how could l just go about life as if nothing had happened, but it was how l survived. I truly believe if I had let myself go, there and then, it would have been a terrible journey back ' one with hindsight I'm not sure l could have got back from without slipping into alcohol abuse or some form of nervous breakdown.
Mum was in the entertainment business. She knew more than anyone about 'The show must go on'� routine. It was how l felt as well. Get through that night and worry about the rest of my life the following morning. I knew there was no way l could leave my Nan, my Mum's Mum and best friend, alone. Nan now lived alone in Halifax, as Granddad had been hospitalised several years previously due to Alzheimer's disease. Five minutes ago she was still one of the strongest people l ever knew. Now sitting in her chair, she was drained of all her strength and fight. Right there and then she looked a totally broken woman, who just wanted to go and join her daughter. She had lost her only child and l knew there was nothing l could say or do to make anything even the slightest bit better. I just held her as best l could.
I then thought of Mum's second cousin (our family wasn't big enough to have first ones!) David Storm. What a beautiful human being in every sense, and someone who Mum absolutely adored. They were close and he would often visit and stay with us, when he visited London. He, like me, lived in nearby Leeds. I knew he was the person to call first. I knew he would be only too willing to come and be with Nan while l went to work. I was still determined to carry on as normal.
I made the call, and as l expected, he told me he'd be right over.
The half an hour it took him to arrive felt like hours. It was almost like the rest of the world had stopped yet everything within Nan's living-room was carrying on at a very slow pace. Sitting there the atmosphere was horrendous. The quiet ticking of her clock seemed to cut through the room, and l could hear the slightest wind brush against the window. We hardly spoke, just collecting our thoughts and trying to reason everything we had just been told. After what seemed minutes of silence Nan announced, 'I want that house sold'�.
I just sat there quietly listening, again trying to list all the things that would need to be sorted and arranged in the coming months. Now getting the house sold had been added to that list.
I then began to focus on the night ahead, getting through the evening at the nightclub. How would I focus? What would l say to people? Would l speak at all? I couldn't just announce my Mum had died a couple of hours ago, but here l was, ready to go to work none the less!
It would sound ridiculous just to walk in, tell everyone my news then get to work as normal, as true as my intentions may have been. They would want to send me home, but I knew l needed to be there and didn't want that to happen. I needed to get through that night in the most normal way l could, even if that meant, doing the night as normal and not telling anyone anything. I truly believed if l could get through that few hours then I would be prepared for anything. It may seem strange, unnatural and even naive to a degree, but l felt I knew it was the way to start dealing with things from my point of view.
It was about this same time I remembered l was flat-broke. I was working part-time in a small local nightclub and part-time as a lorry driver. I was hardly raking it in, and was well over my overdraft limit. That didn't worry me. What did was the fact l didn't know how l was going to get hold of the cash to get backwards and forwards from London on the train, or by car.
Sitting in that silent living-room, full of horrendous atmosphere, It was as if Nan had read my mind and knew of my worry. After a few more seconds of silence she got up, and went to the carefully concealed mini-safe on her bookshelf, and took out a bundle of notes. It was around two hundred pounds. She handed it to me telling me l would need that for travelling expenses. I gave her a half smile and mumbled 'Thanks'�. How could l be really grateful under the circumstances?
'Thank you Nan for helping with this money that l don't have, so l can go and see my dead mother, and make arrangements for her funeral, and be able to eat properly when I'm there!'� I meant my thanks though. I was so grateful for all of my Nan's help over the years, and would never dream of taking liberties with her generosity, but it was just too hard to show gratitude at that moment.
In those few minutes, l was already so worried for my Nan's health and state of mind. How would she cope? Would she be able to get through things at her age? Would she soon change so much that I wouldn't recognise her a few months from now? I was already worrying for the future, as well as the now, and it had only been, no more than, fifteen minutes since I had heard the news.

Finally after what seemed like hours, but really was only around half an hour, Cousin David arrived. He gave me a hug and told me how sorry he was. Mum was close to him, and vice versa, so l knew he was the right person to initially call, and as I expected he was the tower of strength l knew he would be for Nan. He sat beside her, held her, spoke warmly, and used as many comforting words as he could.
In my own selfish way l knew l was safe to leave for the evening, and do what l needed, as l knew from that moment, for however long she needed, Nan would not be on her own. I knew from the way David was talking he was staying for the night, and that the next day other people would be round for her, and would stay as long, and for as many nights, as was needed. I hugged Nan and told her l would call her as soon as l was in London the next morning. In what now seemed like a surreal existence I was off to be a DJ in the local nightclub, less than an hour after finding out my Mum had died.

I drove the short drive to the town centre, still very composed, but with my head spinning almost out of control. There were people l needed to call. My girlfriend, my best friend who l lived with for a start, but l still had this dogged single-minded determination to get through that evening at the nightclub, almost as if nothing had happened. Bizarrely that was my main short-term concern.
For the sake of that evening l took the safest approach from an emotional, not having to explain things, point of view. I said nothing. I just treated it as another normal Thursday night. I remember looking down at the packed dance-floor of people, all enjoying themselves and having a good time, and thinking to myself, 'I bet none of you have had news like mine tonight!'�
I only had to work for an hour and a half on a Thursday, and my night was done by midnight. I didn't hang around. I made the excuse to management that l was tired and needed to get home. I had no time, or desire, to tell the truth and hear the usual apologies. As much as anything l didn't want to make other people feel awkward.
I had literally walked out of the back, fire exit, doors when my phone rang. It was my girlfriend Sonja. She had heard the news when my brother had called the flat looking for me. In a way l was glad she already knew as it was one less person, close to me, l had to break the news to. There was still my best friend and flat mate, but he was away for the night so l had another time to break the news to him. Sonja told me she would wait at the flat for me, and stay the night with me.
Driving home all l could think about was Sonja sitting there waiting for me. How awkward must she be feeling? She must be wondering what she could say to me, or how she could try and make me feel better. Even though l hadn't done anything, or could change anything about what had happened, I started to feel guilty, and bad for her. She didn't deserve this putting on her. It wasn't fair for her, and l almost wish she hadn't known yet, so l would have some time to prepare things, and at least be able for her to find out during a time where she wouldn't be sitting there all on her own.
The news was still so fresh and raw, that l, surely, couldn't have been thinking straight. It had only been a few hours and l wasn't thinking of how l felt, or the effects the news was having on me, but more the effects it would have on the people closet to me. There and then l was feeling worse for them than l was for me.
Stopping at a garage near home, l bought Sonja some flowers. Even by garage standards, they weren't bad, for the modest price they cost. I knew she would be feeling terrible for me. I just hoped the flowers would make her feel a bit better, and might deflect a small piece of the pain l was feeling. Maybe if l could make someone else feel a little better, then maybe l wouldn't feel as bad. Good in theory, but not so good in practise.

When l parked up at home, just under half an hour later, all my movements seemed to be in slow motion, with me moving at the speed of a young child.
As l walked the steps to the second floor flat l started to feel awkward not knowing how l should act around my girlfriend, and the other people l would come into contact with over the coming days. It was all going to be so uncomfortable, and yet l was more concerned about how my reaction to the overwhelming situation would affect them, and make them feel. I didn't want to make people feel awkward, and at the same time l didn't want people to just be around me out of pity's sake. In the most abnormal circumstances I just wanted everything to be normal. Maybe the gift of flowers would help with the situation.

I opened the door to the flat slowly and quietly. I was hoping my girlfriend would be asleep, that way I wouldn't have to talk, or try and explain anything to anyone, even though my girlfriend of several months was hardly just anyone.
I slowly opened the living-room door. The light was on. There was no TV or stereo on, but sitting in the light, and the quiet, on opposite sides of the room were my girlfriend, and my best friend Elliot, who had been close to Mum ever since our days at college from 1993. I didn't expect to see him there as he was away for the night, and meant l could put off telling him the news till the start of the weekend. Sonja had phoned him while l was at work to let him know what had happened. There they both sat, not saying anything but both looking equally concerned in my direction. It was a horrible moment. I didn't know whether l should just fall apart at this point, breaking down in the middle of the room, or whether l should smile broadly and tell them not to worry, because everything would be all right. Everything just seemed so un-natural and surreal, that whatever l did wouldn't feel right.
I just looked at them both, and gave a wry smile to let them know l was still standing and getting through that night OK. Looking like a little boy lost l handed Sonja the recently bought flowers. She smiled and thanked me, looking taken back that l would buy her a gift at a time like this.
They asked how I was. What can you say in that situation? Everything seems the wrong, or inappropriate thing to say, but then you can't sit or stand in silence forever.
I told them l was doing OK, all things considered, and I sat down and ran through the events and conversations of the night. There was shock and disbelief from them both, a reaction l was going to have to get used to over the coming days and weeks, but there was also a feeling of genuine concern for my welfare. I felt totally drained and worn out, as much to do with the fact it was now the early hours of Friday morning, as much as it was to do with the events of the last five hours. I wasn't thirsty or hungry, even though the inside of my mouth felt so dry, instead I just wanted to lie down and try to sleep.
Several minutes later in the dark bedroom, under the covers, with the door closed and my girlfriend beside me the enormity of the situation hit me. The tears welled and l couldn't, and wouldn't, hold them back any longer.
'My Mum's dead'�, I stated, as much to myself as Sonja, as l began to cry uncontrollably with Sonja holding me as best she could.
The genuine sadness was beginning to sink in and more questions were swimming round my head. Some l couldn't answer even if l wanted to, and some l wish, could have been answered for me.
Where was Mum's spirit now?
Where was her body? I wasn't sure where they would take her after the hospital.
Was she cold? I was so worried she would be cold in her sleep and no one would be there to keep her warm.
Was she lonely? I wanted to be there. I didn't want her to be alone. I was making myself even sadder with these isolated thoughts. Even though she had died and her spirit had gone to another place, I was still so concerned for her physical well-being, and was just hoping that wherever she now physically lay, she was safe, warm and not alone. As I slowly drifted off to sleep, none of my thoughts gave me an ounce of consolation or optimism.
How would l survive this? How would l get through it? Would I be able to? If l did get through it, would l still be the same person in months, and years, to come?
I had so many questions, and so much sadness and fear. I could only deal with what l did know for sure, and that was the fact, that the following morning would be the start of the most traumatic, grievous time in my life, and l was unsafe in the knowledge, wondering if l was strong enough to get through it.

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