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There's always forever

With time running out, I've made the hardest decision


Published by: Jai Breitnauer
Published on: 21 June 2012

Walking into the Eva Hart pub in Dagenham, blonde hair bobbing around my made-up face, I grinned at my mate Tina standing by the bar. Just then, I felt a hand slap my bum, stale beer breath waft across my face.
‘Fancy a drink, love?' came a gravelly voice. A thickset bloke in his thirties leered at me, cigarette burning in yellow fingers. Tugging my mini skirt down and folding my arms across my chest, I shook my head.
‘No thanks, mate,' I said. As I walked away, he stepped in front of me.
‘Think you're too good for me, do ya?' he sneered. Before I could reply, a tall, shaven-headed guy with piercing blue eyes was at my side.
‘She's with me,' he said, firmly. Well, if he said so...! I let him lead me over to the bar. ‘Sorry,' he grinned, ‘but you looked like you needed a rescue. I'm Jay, Tina's mate.'
‘Thanks,' I smiled, heart melting at his friendly grin. Perhaps I'd been a bit naive going to the pub in a short skirt and low-cut top - I was only 16 after all. But then I'd always been a bit wild, dropping out of school to study beauty, then telling my mum I was moving in with my nan because I wanted my independence.
Right now, independence was the last thing on my mind though. Jay - Jamie Bishop - was lovely. At 6ft 2in, he towered over me, muscular arms circled protectively around me as we chatted about his job as a dry-liner, his mum, his plans for the future. And he made me laugh every five seconds!
Finally, the last orders bell went. ‘Fancy, er, coming back to my place for another?' Did I!
From that moment, me and Jay were inseparable. Mum loved him, thought he was a good influence on me. Even my little brother Dan, only 14 at the time, approved.
‘How long you gonna be with our Shellie?' he asked cheekily one afternoon, when we were all out for a walk in Battersea Park.
‘Well, I think 11 years is a good trial period,' Jay smiled. ‘And after that...? Forever.'
Later, as we drove back to Dagenham, I reached across and squeezed his knee.
‘Did you mean what you said to Dan?' I croaked. ‘About us being together forever?'
‘Shellie, you're the love of my life,' he smiled. ‘One day you'll be my wife. But let's have some fun first!'
And Jay certainly knew how to do that! Whether it was the pub, a picnic, or a date at the cinema, every minute was special. Soon, I found myself talking about getting a flat together, checking out wedding dresses, and cooing over babies...
‘Our baby will have your beautiful eyes and my blonde hair, like a cherub,' I grinned, as we wandered through town.
‘You're not even 17 yet,' Jay said distractedly, looking away. ‘I thought we were having fun.'
‘We are!' I cried.
‘Sounds more like you're ready to settle down!' he laughed, But there was a sadness in his eyes I hadn't seen before.
‘No, not yet...' I admitted.
‘Neither am I, Shel,' he sighed, pulling me into his arms. ‘I think we both need to live life.'
‘You want to split up?' I croaked, tears welling. ‘Eleven years forever, you said.'
‘And I meant it - I'm just not ready for forever yet. If we're meant to be, we'll come back to each other.' Then, with one last kiss, he walked away.
I spent the next three weeks holed up at my mum's in Kent, pining. Eventually, Tina phoned.
‘You need to get back in the saddle,' she said, arranging to meet me in Dagenham. I scanned the crowds for Jay.
Tina read my mind. ‘He's not here,' she said, finally. ‘He's moved to Canvey Island.'
Holding back tears, I downed my glass of wine, then another. Found myself stumbling on to the dance floor, then into a cab with a bloke, a friend of a friend...
‘Feel better now?' Tina grinned, picking me up from his place the next morning.
‘No! I feel like I've cheated on Jay,' I said, voice breaking.
As the weeks passed, it became clear I'd have a permanent reminder of that fling... Thirty weeks after my one night stand, my phone rang.
‘It's me,' came Jay's voice. ‘I've missed you.' He sounded eager, desperate almost, and I knew I had to be honest.
‘I-I'm pregnant,' I said.
‘Is it mine?!' he asked, excited. My heart broke. I'd ruined everything. ‘No,' I whispered.
‘Well, it was nice to talk to you,' he gabbled, hanging up.
It was painful, but I had to accept Jay was my past. When my son Kaedan-Tai was born, I threw myself into my future. Mum was an angel when I brought him home. Even little Dan changed his fair share of nappies!
Well, he had to - since giving birth, I'd suffered with terrible headaches. Some days, I couldn't even get out of bed, and I kept being sick, lost loads of weight.
‘Shel, this is the fourth packet of painkillers you've polished off this week,' Mum moaned. ‘I think you should see a doctor.'
‘Mmm,' I agreed. But suddenly, I felt so tired, my head so heavy...
Dan was crying. ‘She's having a fit!'
Next thing I knew, Mum had driven me to William Harvey Hospital in Ashford. I was admitted, sent for a brain scan. ‘There are calcium deposits in your brain,' the doctor explained.
‘Well, give me a cup of Calgon and send me home!' I joked. He shook his head.
‘They're cancerous, Shellie. You're riddled with small tumours.' This couldn't be happening. ‘It's very rare, and you're the youngest person ever to be diagnosed with this. Surgery is the only option.'
‘I thought you might be epileptic,' Mum gasped. ‘But never imagined this.'
A few weeks later, I went into theatre. But when I came round, I could see from Mum's face it hadn't been successful. ‘They said it was too big,' she told me. ‘They need to try again, go in through your nose.'
So a couple of months later, I once again blinked open gritty eyes, heavy with anaesthetic. The surgeon was there. ‘I'm sorry,' he said. ‘It was too dangerous to remove the tumour. There's nothing more we can do for you.'
‘What do you mean?' I gasped. ‘What about chemo?'
‘It will never kill the cancer completely. All we can do is make sure you have a good quality of life.'
Mum pulled me into her arms. ‘I'm so sorry,' she sobbed. Who would look after Kaedan when I was gone? What about all my plans?
‘Mum,' I sniffed through my tears. ‘I want Jamie. I want my Jay.'
She nodded, agreed to help me find him. But no one knew where he was. It had been nearly two years since we'd spoken. He'd changed his number, moved house, wasn't in touch with friends.
The trail had gone cold and, as I got weaker, I focused all my energy on Kaedan. I struggled to walk, could barely eat, and slept several hours a day. But when I was awake and feeling good, he was the centre of my world and I tried hard to help make memories for him with trips to the zoo, beach, swimming pool.
One afternoon, I was surfing Facebook, while little Kaedan had a nap, when a ‘friend request' popped up - from Jay Bishop!
Hands shaking, I messaged him. He replied with his number and, minutes later, I was talking to him. ‘I've missed you so much,' he said. ‘Can we meet up?'
Steeling myself, I decided to be honest for the second time. ‘Jay, I've been diagnosed with cancer. I'm dying.'
Silence. Any minute now, I'd hear the click of the receiver, like I had years before.
‘I still want to see you,' Jay croaked. ‘I'll look after you.' He'd been looking after me since the first moment we met.
A few weeks later, he came round. ‘You haven't changed a bit,' I said, tears brimming.
‘Neither have you,' he smiled.
‘Liar,' I blushed, wrapping my spindly arms around my fragile body. But despite my cancer, it was like we'd never been apart.
Jay was my rock from that moment on. He and Kaedan got on like a house on fire, and he helped look after me while mum was at work. Just a few weeks later, I found out I was pregnant. I felt elated.
‘I want to keep it, but it will be hard,' I told him. ‘I'll have to stop taking my medication.'
Shae-Ryan was born weighing just 5lb. But once he was allowed home, I finally felt I had the family I'd dreamed of. The four of us were so happy together.
My body just couldn't get over the trauma of having a baby, though. By March last year, even morphine couldn't control the pain. ‘I don't think I can go on,' I told Jay from my hospital bed. ‘It's too much.'
‘Don't say that,' he begged, storming out. Hours later, he returned, eyes puffy from crying.
‘Where did you go?' I croaked.
‘I rode my motorbike all the way to Ramsgate for you,' he smiled, showing me his ring finger. On it he'd had a tattoo.
‘11 years - forever,' I read, smiling.
‘This time I really mean it,' he grinned.
Forever. There had to be a way of getting our forever. I begged my consultant for help. ‘A third operation could buy you some time,' he admitted. ‘But you'd only have a 7% chance of survival. Even if you live, there's a 98% chance you'll be brain-dead.'
I looked at Jay. ‘Do it,' he said, nodding. ‘I know you, you'll live just to prove the doctors wrong.'
So, not long after Shae-Ryan's first birthday, I went into theatre again. When I came round Jay was by my side, eyes bloodshot.
‘I'm still alive,' I whispered. He smiled sadly. Yes, I was alive, but the cancer was still there, and I'd lost the use of my legs. Plus, the nerves had been damaged in my face. When I looked in the mirror I gasped - my right eye was sealed shut, cheek swollen like I'd been in a bar fight.
‘You're still the most beautiful girl in the world,' Jay whispered. ‘Move in with me, let's be a family.'
With just months to live, I left hospital and in February this year the four of us moved into a little house near my mum. Jay hung a picture of us when we first met on the wall. ‘I'm the happiest I've ever been,' I smiled.
‘We should have done this years ago,' he grinned back. He was right, we'd wasted so much time. This was our forever.
Only... as happy ever afters go, it was awful. Unable to walk, barely able to eat, and constantly ill with infections, I was no use to Jay. Between looking after the boys, and making sure I took my morphine, he was run ragged.
This wasn't how I wanted him to remember me... us. I wanted him to remember the good times, how happy we were.
He'd always looked after me, made me feel safe, but... this was something else. He'd turned into my carer. I'd dreamed of us having adventures together, growing old together. That would never happen.
‘This isn't working, is it,' I whispered one night in April, as Jay solemnly carried me to bed. He was pale and tired, hadn't made a joke in weeks.
‘I'm sorry, Shellie,' he whispered, tears brimming. ‘I want to look after you... Eleven years, forever.'
I shook my head. ‘You just be a good dad to the boys,' I smiled.
The next morning, Jay packed his things and moved back in with his mum, and I took my memories and moved into Pilgrims Hospice, Ashford.
I've been there a few weeks now, and Jay has followed my wishes. I spend my days thinking about him and my boys, about the happy times we had together. About how I long to cuddle him and make it all okay. But I can't, so it's better to set him free.
As he said all those years ago, if we're meant to be, we'll find each other again - and next time we'll have forever to love each other.

• Some names have been changed.


Shelly Morrison, 24, Ashford, Kent