End of Days

John walked slowly back up the hill, his stick beating out the steps as he went. Not a firm drum beat but a slow almost dragging sound.

Halfway up he sat on their seat. The old seat that had been here when they arrived, had fallen into a very sad state and each time they walked back from the village shop he had said to Janet “ When this seat finally falls to pieces I will have another one put here so we can still stop and enjoy the view”.

It was not a spectacular jaw-dropping view over stupendous valleys or high mountains or a fast-flowing river or water-fall. Just an open bit of scrub ground that led onto the children’s play area and looked back down on the village. On a nice day like today, there were a few young mums and toddlers in the play area on the slide and the round-about. The high pitched laughter came through to John and he smiled. “ Do you remember when our boys were little how they used to love playing on the slide”?

The boys were both grown up now, with children of their own who had gone from babies to toddlers and now teenagers. Where had the years gone John asked himself. Having rested for a few minutes or it might have been longer. John did not wear a watch these days. What for, he eat when he was hungry, went to bed when he was tired and got up when the sun shone through the bedroom curtain. He did not need a watch to tell him how long the days could be sometimes.

The last part of the hill was easier not quite so steep, straight enough for him to see the cottage as he turned the last corner but still a bit of a walk still to do.

It could almost do with another coat of paint.

When they had first contemplated buying the cottage it had been empty for a few years the white paint had faded to almost grey, the timber around the front door and the windows were almost rotted through.

Even Then Janet had fallen in love with it. “Oh John it’s lovely” “Its a dump was Johns reply” But look at the size of the front garden we could grow.. And the ideas poured out of Janet what they could do with it once it was theirs. “We could paint it yellow with shiny gloss white window and door frames”. John would have preferred the new build they had seen in the village, a bit more expensive but they could just move in, he dreaded what they would find when they used the estate agents keys to go inside. “We could grow white and yellow climbing roses in the front and train them up the walls”.John had a sinking feeling that his choice had gone out of the the “shiny white glossy” window.

“Look John there is a  gate at the back, driveway and garage for you to park the car in and store all your tools”

This was before they had even set foot inside.

To be fair the inside looked quite sound, old, shabby but no holes in the floorboards or peeling wallpaper. No telltale brown marks on any of the ceiling downstairs and the same upstairs.

A few telltale signs of water ingress around the rotting window frames but that would be put right with the replacement windows.

Timber I think, hardwood not this dam PVC that everybody seemed to want these days. New doors, full redecoration and replace that green bathroom suite. A shower unit would be good and the room was big enough for that as well as a bath.

“ It’s a good job Robert is a builder” “ Yes Janet”, our eldest had already been to see the cottage, pronounced it structurally sound and promised to have whatever they wanted done. “I’ll pay for the materials,” John told him. “We will arm wrestle for that when we have finished” “You pick out a bathroom at B and Q or Wicks, Kitchen units and wallpaper just write on each wall what colour you want them and leave the rest to us, Mum said something about painting the outside yellow? “ I don’t think so. White brilliant white”

John Knew it was a foregone conclusion. The price for the cottage was stupidly low. Robert was sorting the renovation and decorating. Just to pick and pay for a cooker, washing machine and other white goods.

John was just about to retire, 40 years working at the same farm, boy, farmhand, farm manager with house thrown in. This would be the first real home of their own.

The deal was done, Robert had twelve weeks to sort it all. Janet went up every day to start work on the garden. John would go with her on weekends and throw assorted rubbish that they found in the grounds into his land-rover to take to the tip.

Retiring was a bit of a wrench, they did ask him if he wanted part-time work, he shrugged working for someone else after being the gaffer. I don’t think so.

The cottage was finished and they moved in. It had been ready ten days before so that had been backwards and forwards sorting what would go where and what they would buy new.

Moving in turned into a bit of a party with Robert, his wife and the second baby. The first already crawling around granddad’s feet. A couple of lads from work sneaking an hour off to wish him well and then Simon turned up. Girlfriend in tow. Janet turned to John  “she’s pregnant I hope they get married soon” “What, but they haven’t been together that long ” “She’s pregnant you mark my words”.

Then Simon went back to the car and came out with a box which he put on the floor.”Dad, I thought you might need something to do now you have retired”

Cheeky bugger I can sort my own life out thank you. Then John heard the whimper. The lid was pushed up and a little wet nose appeared.” I hope you haven’t done something stupid like bringing me a dog”

Then the lid fell off and the most beautiful golden retriever puppy jumped out and wandered over to John, it’s tail wagging and it’s tongue hanging out.

“Rosey we’ll call her Rosey, said Janet and John now owned a dog. Complete with a feeding bowl, collar, lead, and squeaky toys.

Rosey went with them everywhere, sitting peacefully in the back of the car when they went out in it. Walking miles.as they went to places that they had shot past in the car taking the boys to football, judo, school, youth club, Never time to stop, walk around, explore. Now that John had retired they could do all that in their own time and Rosey went too.

The garden flourished, they planted a few vegetables and then more and more until they were giving away more than they used themselves but the boys appreciated them especially Simon. His big brother had offered him a job but Simon wanted to be independent he worked but not a well-paid venture like his brother. He had finally fallen lucky with a friend of a friend and now had a large window cleaning round He now came up to do his dad and mums place on a monthly basis ostensibly to clean the windows. Nothing to do with lunch his mother always cooked for him. His wife had turned vegetarian. It made things a tad difficult for Simon but at least he got one meaty meal a month.

Janet cooked him meat pie, sausage toad, beef stew. It was easy to see why he did the windows.

Janet forgave John for the white paint although she really wanted it painted yellow and teased him about it when they talked of giving it a fresh coat every five or so years. John had done the first two himself. Robert had brought over a mini scaffold tower, offered to do it or get one of his chaps to do it but John had said no. While he could he would. The scaffold tower was a great help rather than trusting a ladder.

The third time it needed it was when Janet had first been taken ill, he did let Roberts men do it then. John and Janet were backwards and forwards to the hospital seeing specialist after specialist.

Rosy came with them, of course, sitting up in the backseat with her head half out of the window. She would sit in the car while they were sitting in waiting rooms. John would leave Janet if she were a long time and come back to the car and let Rosey out to stretch her legs, have a sniff around and do what good dogs do.

For years now there had been no need for a lead attached to Roseys collar. She never ran off or even moved far from Johns’s feet. When he felt ready to go back inside he would walk her back to the car and she would jump up and sit with her head out of the window watching him go back into the hospital.

Cancer is such an ugly word, Janet and John decided to invent a different word to talk about the killing disease that was having such a devastating effect on their life. “Let’s just call it Flu” said Janet. “I’ve got a dose of flu, long-lasting flu but I’ll get over it eventually”. “That’s right love a bad dose of flu.but together we will fight it, do what we can and you’ll get over it”

But of course, that was never going to be the case. Treatment after treatment, hair loss, appetite loss, weight loss.” This flu doesn’t want to let go does it love” “No Janet, a real nasty dose this time”. Rosey didn’t know what to make of things. When they were both at home she would wander from one to the other putting her head up onto their knees looking mournfully up at them.

Robert, Simon and the families were all with her at the end. Janet had wanted to come home but the hospital told John to be sensible. They could control medication, make sure Janet was not in pain. Give her twenty-four-hour care and John and the family could come in at any time and stay as long as they wanted. Just ushered out if treatment was called for.

John was torn, he knew that Janet was desperate to go home but she needed nursing twenty-four hours a day. Living up the hill out of the village could make that difficult. Sense prevailed. Rosey was smuggled in on more than one occasion and would sit by Janet’s bedside with his head upon the bed where her hand would find him and rest on him. Too weak to stroke him but both Janet and Rosey enjoying the moments together.

Janet did come home at last. John had the undertakers drive the hearse up to the cottage so Janet could be at home if only for a few minutes. John and Robert had lowered the roses to the ground off the walls the week before. Then, Robert, had two of his men paint the front of the house yellow. John berated himself for not doing it while Janet was alive.

After the funeral, John closed down into himself a bit. He still took Rosey to the shop each morning and got the car out for the two of them to go shopping once a week. At first, he had pushed himself into the habit of trying to keep up their long walks in the afternoons but they were both growing old and getting tired. Once or twice Rosey had come back looking very tired drank large gulps of water and then flopped down on her blanket and slept.

“I know how you feel Rosey” John said and made himself a cup of tea, put on the radio, sat in his comfortable chair and he too would nap.

“You’ve got arthritis John, how old are you? John told him. “Only to be expected at your age”. “Anti-inflammatory pills, cut back on the walking, rest more and leave the alcohol alone” Bloody fool thought John, I haven’t had a drink for years. Not since Janet died. We used to sit out in the garden, her garden and watch the sun go down with a glass of rose’. Maybe a few crisps or some cheese and biscuits.  But that was what five, no six years ago. The pain just would not go away, not the pain in his joints or the pain of his loss.

It will get easier in time they said, stupid buggers all of them. I think I am growing into a crotchety old man thought John to himself.

Rosey and he were in town one day when he felt real pain in his leg. Passing an outdoor and camping shop he saw a selection of walking sticks. Worth a try John thought and it did help, gave him a bit more balance and helped the long walk back up the hill. Every morning they went down for a paper together. No, not every day, there came a day when Rosey looked at him from her blanket, sniffed the air at the door and walked back and settled back down again.”Not up to it today old girl?” I know the feeling but I’ll keep going as long as I can”

John kept the house clean, tidy, and polished. It might take him two days to get it all done but so what. What else had he got to do, Janet would have expected it to be kept up to her standard so he did.

The garden he had given up on. Simon knew a lady local who did gardening and so it was arranged that she would do it for him. She still planted some vegetables for him but it was easier to pull some out of the freezer, than peel and cook them. She took most of the ones she grew home with her.

The walk got harder even with the stick. “Dad, why don’t you move in with us I could easily convert the big garage and make a granny flat for you we could keep more of an eye on you that way” Or you could get one of those mobility scooters to whiz down the hill and back on”

“Not yet John replied” Over my dead body he thought he loved both of his sons, got on well with the families, but to live with them no thank you.

“ I can still walk and I can drive down if I need to go shopping or have an appointment”

“Yes dad, but don’t you think it is about time you gave up driving, that land rover has seen better days,  You think that of the car and me don’t you thought John.  “Thank you for worrying about me and when the time comes to give up I’ll think about it.

He had to help Rosey into the back of the car where she curled up on the back seat. No longer sitting up with her head stuck out of the window.

“What do you think Mr Roberts? How is she” John asked the vet. “John” he had called him that from the first. “She has done well, 16 years for a dog of her size is a really good age. But she is near the end. I can give her some pills to stop her feeling pain but it’s almost time to let her go”

“Not yet replied John, it’s too soon. First Janet now Rosey I’ll be all on my own”

“Think about it John, you wouldn’t want her to suffer and she is in pain”

“Just give me some time Mr Roberts. I’ll give it some thought”

Back home John had moved Rosey’s blanket nearer to his own chair and looked at her sleeping peacefully. When it was time for her to just pop outside before they both turned in she struggled to the door and almost staggered out into the garden. He had to help her back into the house and on to her blanket where she went back to sleep almost immediately.

“John you’ve brought her back good man I am pleased you have seen sense We can’t let her suffer”

“ She is in pain, she can hardly walk and soon she won’t even be able to get outside to relieve herself.  Just leave her here with me, do you want me to arrange for her to be buried in the pet’s cemetery we have at the back?” “Yes please Mr Roberts, it won’t hurt her will it?

“No John she will feel nothing. Just go to sleep and not wake up”

” How much do I owe you Mr Roberts?”

“Twenty pounds please John that will cover all of it,

“No, I said twenty John you have put down four ten pound notes” “I know replied John any chance of doing the two of us at the same time”.