No counselling you're not dying

I have had five surgeries, two of which went wrong and three of which were to correct the original two. I am now unable to speak and have secretions running out of the front of my neck all over my clothes.
I am a little down and was pleased yesterday when finally it was mentioned that counselling was available.
Today I have been told that I can't be refered for counselling based upon my surgeries because I don't have cancer.
I have to go to my (overworked) GP and ask her to refer me.
I should be able to get an appointment with her in about two weeks and yet again I will be post op, with an open wound, sitting amongst people with germs. My consultant says the most important thing at the moment is for me not to get a chest infection so sitting in a GPs waiting room AGAIN is exactly what I need.
Yet again help with mental health issues is made as difficult as possible to get. I am not depressed but some help would be appreciated. Guess I just have to hope I get better on my own.

The Key

David sat in First Class his eyes darting around. He knew the twins were on the train but that they wouldn't do anything until it arrived in London. At High Wycombe he toyed with the idea of jumping off the train at the last minute but he knew one of them would just wait for him and the other would have a head start that would be impossible to assail. He looked at the text message 'I'll be waiting by the tube entrance in a light green top'. He hoped he could trust her, but using total strangers seemed to be the only way the twins and their network could be beaten. It had been five years and they were still very much at the top of their game. Could this year be David's year?

As the train pulled into the station he hung out of the window and pulled the handle to release the door. The train was still slowing as he jumped, stumbled and then started to run. As he got to the end of the platform he nervously glanced behind, vaulted the turnstile and continued to run.

There were shouts from the platform attendants and Clare noticed the two men chasing him from the train. They were tall and wearing badly cut business suits. They looked like twins but then don't all city slickers these days? It was however less usual to see two of them chasing a third through Marylebone Station on a busy Monday morning. The first man passed by, stopped at the left luggage lockers and pushed a carrier bag into one of the lockers before rushing on. Suddenly a transport policeman appeared from nowhere and tried to block David's way. He stopped and started looking around him; he spotted Clare and rushed back to her. He grabbed her around the waist and kissed her passionately. He forced her mouth open with his tongue and the kiss lingered for longer than was probably safe for him. Suddenly there was shouting and they were bustled, the policeman grabbed David pulling him away. The man looked relived as the two pursuers were still struggling to get through the turnstiles and he was now safely in the arms of the law. The two chaser ran passed Clare but when the saw their prey they slowed down, looked at the ground, then at each other and slunk down into the underground station.

Clare carefully held her handkerchief to her mouth and spat out the small key. She hoped he wasn’t in too much trouble, but for now she had the key and the next task was hers to complete.

She rushed out of Marylebone station down towards Baker Street. She knew at rush hour this would be quicker than trying to get on a tube train at Marylebone. Once she got there she bought her day travel card and quickly rushed through the turnstiles heading for the escalators, faltering only slightly, her fear of escalators holding her back for a second, her excitement of the task in hand pushing her forward. Once she was down on the platform she jumped onto the first south bound jubilee line train and pushed her way to the only available seat. She knew once they found out David no longer had the key they would make the connection and be after her quickly. Hopefully the fact he was now in police custody would slow down the twins finding anything out, but you never knew. From what she had heard they had connections in some strange places. She looked around and tried to see if there was anyone she recognised or anyone who looked out of place. The main give away would be someone looking at her, no-one made eye contact on the tube, especially not at this time of day when the only travellers were commuters. At Green Park she waited until the very last minute and jumped from the train just as the doors were closing. She rushed to pick up the Victoria line train down to Stockwell and then took the Northern line to London Bridge. At London Bridge she jumped back onto the Jubilee line and headed out to North Greenwich. She knew that all this zigzagging was slowing her down but she had more than enough time and she needed to ensure they were not following her.  Positive she was in the clear she exited the North Greenwich tube station and started walking over towards the Emirates Airline, the new range of cable cars that had been built especially for the London Olympics. This was the one place she was vulnerable. She was out in the open and she had a five minute walk to get to the cable car where they could easily see her.

She stopped in Costa and ordered a cappuccino. As she considered her next course of action, out of the window she saw one of the twins talking to a tall blonde woman. The woman was wearing an Emirates uniform and must have worked at the ticket booth, where Claire would need to go if she were to make it across. The twin wasn't looking at her and had probably not yet worked out that she had the key. Clare could just make out that he was showing the woman a photo on his mobile phone that must have been David. Just then he lifted the phone to his ear, the look on his face made it clear things had changed. He suddenly started shouting down the phone. With any luck they had not yet realised that she had been passed the key but she couldn't to be sure. She left her coffee on the table and headed towards the bathroom, just as the twin and his female companion walked in and sat down.

'We'll have to wait for the photo to come through,' the tall man muttered to his companion.

'How can we be sure that it will be correct?' The elegant woman asked.

'We have the technology to compare all his known associates with all the people in that station. It won't take long and we still have another two hours until the deadline.'

As Clare emerged from the toilet wearing sunglasses and a long floral scarf wrapped over her head, looking strangely conspicuous in her attempt to look inconspicuous, the twin's phone bleeped and both he and his partner stared intently at the screen.

'What do you mean they can't find her in the database?' he shouted into the mouth piece

'Calm down Johnny,' she gently placed a hand on his arm. 'We know what she looks like and I can keep an eye out at the ticket booth. Let's get over there now.'

Clare started to run as soon as she was out of sight of the Costa. As she approached the cable car she was relieved to see a large American lady and her tiny husband arguing with the ticket attendant. Clare rushed over to the self-service machine and purchased her one way ticket. She rushed up the stairs and jumped into the first car that came round. The couple already seated looked at her with disgust but she just waved her ticket at them, 'Spot check to ensure the booths are clean.' She quickly sat down and tried to ensure the couple were between her and any spying eyes that might be looking from the viewing platform.

Ten nervous minutes later she was off the cable car, rushing to get on the DLR and trying to remember the quickest way back to Monument. She carefully placed the cable car ticket in the see through plastic document wallet she had on a lanyard around her neck and settled down to wait for the train to trundle back into central London.

Once she arrived at the bottom of monument she couldn't believe the queue. It was 11am and she only had one hour left to finish her task. She rushed to the front of the queue but there was no way anyone was going to let her push in, no matter how French she tried to look. Just then a family came down the stairs and started to exit.

'Would you like your certificates?' The attendant asked.

'Oh yes please.' the mother of the group said, wanting the family to have something to remember their trip by.

'Oh Mum do we have to? I need to sit down,' A large red faced boy had obviously not enjoyed the walk up all 311 steps to the top of Monument.

'You can take them and fill them out at your leisure.'

The family filed out each taking a certificate as they went. Clare smiled and followed them. At the first cafe they passed the large boy, whose name appeared to be Simon, complained to such an extent that his mum gave in and took them inside for a sit down and a drink. Clare went inside and managed to grab the next table along, nearest to Simon.

'Pssst,' Clare tried to attract Simon's attention.

He turned and looked at her, opening his mouth to call his mother.

'Shush and you could make a tenner.' Clare said

 He raised his eyebrows.

'I need your certificate.'

'What certificate?'

‘The one you just got from Monument.'

'Why?'

'I just do and if you give it to me I will give you a tenner.'

'Twenty'

'No ten.'

'No then.' He turned his back to her.

'Fine twenty.'

As his mother returned Simon was stuffing something into his pocket and the door was swinging shut behind Clare as she rushed out.

She started heading back towards the tube station and just in time spotted one of the twins queuing at the bottom of Monument. She darted in the opposite direction and headed over to Canon Street to avoid being spotted. She carefully placed the certificate in the clear plastic wallet and breathed a sigh of relief.

 

There was a long line of people standing facing the luggage lockers when the policeman walked David back into the station. He sheepishly stood there as the twins and five other couples all stood in a row.

'Right now David is here we can begin,' said a woman dressed in bright flowery clothes who sounded a little too jolly to face people who had been madly running over London for the last three hours.

She turned and faced a camera, 'So the final challenge is this years' scavenger hunt has now been completed and we shall see which team have won. As usual the items have to be inside the teams’ nominated locker before noon and we will now open them and check the details.'

'Kevin and Debbie are currently in last place so let's check their locker first.' The presenter took the key from them and opened the locker. She then took a ridiculous amount of time removing the items and displaying them for the camera. First a ticket to Blenheim Palace and a bookmark bearing the famous house's logo from the well-stocked gift shop, then an bus ticket to Thame, a train ticket from Thame to London, an all-day tube ticket and a ticket for the Emirates Airline. She then dramatically searched the locker and turned to face the camera with a look of sad disappointment.

'Well Kevin, Debbie not everything but that still gives you a good standing so far.'

'Thanks Kelly,' said Kevin. 'Unfortunately we just ran out of time.'

The theatrics were continued as each locker was opened and none of the other couples had the final item on the list.

'Finally we come to David and the Butler twins. Johnny, Steve, shall we start with you first?'

'Why not?' said Johnny smiling smugly.

'Now as we know,' Kelly addressed the camera head on, 'David and the Butler twins were neck and neck on the challenge after the last checkpoint. We have never had a tie break ...'

'I don't think we will this time,' interrupted Johnny

Kelly opened the locker and showed its contents to the camera.

'We're still missing that final item so if David has all items on the list he is the winner. If not the title goes to the twins for the sixth year running. David you key please.'

David looked at the policeman who had him in handcuffs and smiled. The policeman slowly undid one of the cuffs whilst David looked at all the faces in the crowd. David couldn't see her, he was done for. He started patting his pockets to try and waste some time.

'Come on David, no key, no win,' Kelly said.

Suddenly the crowds started to part and Clare pushed her way through. She deftly vaulted the barrier set up to keep the crowds back and rushed towards David. Steve Butler grabbed hold of her as she rushed passed him and wrestled her to the floor, but not before she had time to hurl something small and silver into the air. Whilst everyone was staring at the small woman on the floor being forcibly pinned down by the six feet tall twin, not the best image for a previous winner to display, David managed to step on the key were it had fallen. In the commotion as Clare was being dragged away he quickly bent down and popped it into his pocket.

'Right David, your key please,' Kelly said

David again felt through all his pockets before finally producing the key out of his back one.

'Let's see how you got on. First a ticket to Blenheim Palace and a bookmark bearing the famous house's logo from the well-stocked gift shop, then an bus ticket to Thame, a train ticket from Thame to London, an all-day tube ticket, a ticket for the Emirates Airline. Looks like it's a tie.'

The twins couldn't believe how David had done this, but the rules stated that if there was a tie and the previous years' winners were involved then the trophy stayed with them. A silly grin was just starting to appear on their faces when...

'Wait a minute, what's this,' the presenter turned to the camera and slowly lifted a role of paper from David's locker. 'I do believe it's a certificate to say you climbed to the top of Monument. Well done David, I don't know how you did it but you're this year's winner.'

David looked over at the Butler twins and smiled. The look of astonishment on their faces was worth more that the five thousand pound prize and the television exposure put together. As he stood in front of the cameras to accept his prize he saw Clare in the background, waving as she went through the turnstiles to catch her train home. Once on board she could count the two thousand pounds David had left in the locker for her to collect as she put the last three items needed for the scavenger hunt inside.

 

Snail mail

The old memories were dragged up when the postman arrived with a twenty three year old letter. They had opened a decommissioned post box last week and found some letters that should have been delivered in 1990. Yesterday, one had finally ended up on my doorstep.

I picked up the post and went back into the house just as the kettle boiled. I threw the letters onto the table and waited for the tea to brew. My thoughts drifted back to happier times.

 

Ralph and I had always been close. Twins are supposed to be aren’t they? We were also opposite in every way. Ralph was the adventurous one, the let’s try anything once one. I was the cautious one, often the voice of reason. But Ralph was older by four minutes and so he usually got his way.

We always played in the forests that surrounded our house. It was an old Victorian house and could have been used in a Hammer horror film, standing all alone and grey amongst the trees. Dad had been the local doctor and home doubled as the surgery, meaning he could look after us boys after mum died.

It had been our eighth birthday and Ralph had decided that we should go out into the woods for a game of armies. There was talk of war in Europe and whilst we didn’t understand, Ralph was fascinated by it. He was going to set up a hide out and I had to find it and try to capture the enemy territory. This was unusual as I was usually the one sitting around ‘guarding’ something whilst Ralph had the excitement of circling the enemy encampment and over powering me.

On this particular day I was on recognisance and I had crept up to all our usual hideouts but there had been no sign of him. The only place left to look was the other side of the brook. We had been forbidden to go over there due to the high water and fast currents after the spring thaw. I noticed there was a plank at the place we always crossed. It was pushed back on the other side so I couldn’t use it, but a Ralph sized foot print in the mud half way along convinced me this was his crossing point. Unknown to Ralph I had been practising jumping the brook a little further down where it was much narrower. I looked around, took three steps back and then ran at the brook as quickly as I could, propelling myself into the air at the last minute and landing perfectly on the other side. I couldn’t believe it, I had made the jump. I looked around almost hoping I had been seen but there was no-one around.

I knew where Ralph would be, there was an old hollowed out oak tree which we used to pretend Robin Hood had hidden in, and he would be near that. I slowly crept towards the tree and could see Ralph sitting on a branch about ten feet in the air. He was whistling and swinging his legs, assuming I would not be able to creep up on him. I backed away slightly and then circled, being very careful not to make a sound. As I got round to the rear, I found a large damp sod of earth and rolled it into a ball. I carefully approached the tree and with all my strength hurled the moss ball at Ralph. I hit. I started jumping up and down and cheering myself when suddenly the world went into slow motion. As the moss ball had hit the back of Ralph’s head he had rocked forward, he put his hands out to steady his fall but there was just thin air in front of him. He hadn’t had time to grab the branch and he fell onto the mossy ground below.

‘Ralph, Ralph,’ I called running over to his side. He groaned, well at least he wasn’t dead. I breathed a sigh of relief. I looked at his left leg, did he have two knees?

‘Who knew you could throw,’ Ralph laughed and then his laughter turned into a wince.

‘I think it’s broken. I’ll go and fetch dad, you stay here.’

‘Don’t worry I won’t be running off anywhere.’

I had rushed back for dad and jumped the brook this time without even thinking about it. We would both have been in a lot of trouble if dad hadn’t been so concerned about Ralph’s leg. It never did heal properly and even years later he still walked with a limp during cold weather.

 

I finished making breakfast and sat down at the dining table to eat, opening my post as I did, with the exception of one letter. What could Ralph have wanted? We lost contact in 1948 after the London Olympics, and suddenly a letter turns up that he wrote to me in 1990. I suppose we were sixty then, maybe he had wanted to make amends. But that was twenty three years ago and he was never a healthy man. I left the letter where it was and headed out to meet some old friends for lunch. The BBC did a programme about the people who competed in 1948 just before the 2012 Olympics and I had reacquainted myself with some old colleagues. A couple of them lived quite close to me so once in a while we met up. As I sat on the village hopper bus my mind went back to those days.

 

I had been short listed for the team and in the spring of 1948 I set off to Butlin’s in Clacton to train. I had been courting Trudy Williams since we were both fourteen and leaving her was the hardest thing I had ever had to do. The night before I left we had sat under the old oak tree saying our goodbyes in private.

‘I don’t want to leave you Trudy.’

‘Don’t worry Bobby it’s only three weeks and then you’ll be back again.’

‘But then there’s all the training I have to do when I get back, then I will be off to London for the games.’

‘Are you trying to chuck me?’ A tear glistened in her eye.

‘No never,’ I was shocked she could even think such a thing. ‘I wondered if you would wear this whilst I am gone.’ I pulled a small jewellery box from my pocket.

‘Of course I will,’ the smile on her face was the biggest one I had ever seen as she took the ring and placed it on her right hand. ‘Don’t worry. If you still feel the same after the games I’ll move it to my left hand.’

I held her so close, she was always so sensible and knew exactly what to do for the best.

 

The following day Dad, Trudy and Ralph all came to wave me off and I began the biggest adventure of my life. I trained hard at the camp and came back guaranteed a place on the long jump team and first reserve for the javelin and discus. When I returned home all I could think about was the Games. Trudy came round most nights and sat with Ralph and Dad whilst I trained. They always loved to listen to the tales of the training camp and the people I had met.

The Games came and Dad had bought a television. At the opening ceremony I was nearly sick waiting to leave the tunnel and seeing the state I was in Mary Jones, one of the female athletes, had grabbed my hand. I looked at my hand in hers and then at her and she smiled. I had never seen a smile like it. We walked round the stadium hand in hand waving at the crowds.

During the heats my last jump had been crucial. A difference of one centimetre stood between me making the final and not. I gathered all my strength and seeing Mary watching, gave it everything I had. I made it and Mary rushed over and kissed me. As the games progressed Mary and I had become closer and closer. Unfortunately neither of us won anything but at the closing ceremony we again walked round hand in hand waving to the crowd.

On the journey home I had time to think. The more I thought about things and about both women, I realised I had been carried along by the moment and that Trudy was the girl for me. I resolved to telephone Mary later that night and thanked God that I had not done anything stupid.

As I got off the bus I expected a welcome home committee but no one was there to meet me. I walked the rest of the way home and opened the door to absolute silence. After a few seconds I realised there was no surprise party.

‘Dad, Ralph, Trudy. Anybody home,’ I called. I heard Dad’s office door open, it had always squeaked, and he appeared at the top of the stairs. The look on his face told me almost everything I needed to know.

 ‘I think Trudy left you a letter in your room, best if you read that first.’

I ran up to my room and there on the desk was a letter with the ring placed on top of it. She had seen the coverage and seen how happy I looked with Mary. She didn’t blame me and Ralph had been a tower of strength. He had been offered a place at Cambridge to study medicine and so she had gone with him. I couldn’t believe my eyes and I sat and read the letter over and over again.

At first I had blamed myself and then I blamed Trudy but in the end I knew it was Ralph who had poisoned her mind and taken her from me.

Over the years they had tried to get in touch and I had always ignored their letters. I never did marry and instead devoted myself to my sport, eventually becoming national coach.

 

I returned from my day trip and seeing the letter still sitting there on the kitchen table I made myself a cup of tea and sat down to read it. It was from Ralph, all previous attempts at reconciliation had come from Trudy.

Dear Bobby,

I know we hurt you when we left, but please remember we were only children. I hope you realised I have done everything I could to protect Trudy over the years and have, I hope, made her happy. I am writing to you now as she has asked me to have one last try. She is dying you see and I want to make her happy one last time. To see you and to finally lay old ghosts to rest would mean the world to her. You don’t have to forgive me or even try to like me but for Trudy’s sake please visit. She is in St Leonard’s Hospice in York and we don’t have long left.

Ralph.

I read the letter again, shocked that she could be gone and that it had happened twenty three years ago. She couldn’t be dead. I sat and cried all night. I couldn’t believe that a childhood argument had kept us apart and now it was too late.

The next morning I decided that I could at least pay my respects so I rang the hospice to see if they had any record of her death and if they knew where she had been buried. Luck finally fell my way when I spoke to a nurse who had been with the hospice for thirty years. She was due to retire the next day, and all the things she had to tell me would have been lost. She remembered Ralph and Trudy well, how they were the most loving couple she had ever met and how they always talked about Bobby Roberts the great long jump expert and national coach. She told me she thought that Trudy had been buried at St Peter’s Churchyard in Conisbrough.

 Conisbrough was only a bus ride away so the next day I bought a small bunch of yellow carnations, Trudy’s favourites, and set off. The bus stop was at the bottom of the hill and I slowly walked up towards the graveyard. As I got to the gates I stopped and propped myself against the wall for a rest and to catch my breath. I looked around and saw an old man struggling to get up from a grave about fifty yards away. Whilst he slowly rose I saw he had placed a bunch of yellow carnations on the grave. He bowed his head as if in silent prayer and turning away from where I was standing, he slowly limped away.