Never Say Goodbye (25 page)

Handing her the umbrella as they reached the entrance to the clinic, he said, ‘Well good luck with that. When it comes to interior design I’m in a category all of my own, that being completely useless.’

Laughing, she said, ‘I don’t think I’d be any better at what you do, so why don’t we make a pact and stick with what we’re good at?’

‘Done,’ he agreed, holding out a hand to shake.

Taking it, she was about to wish him a lovely weekend when he pulled her forward and kissed her cheek.

‘Thanks again for the tickets,’ he said, ‘and for bringing them,’ and letting go of her hand he answered his mobile as he turned in through the blue swing doors. ‘Yes, I’m coming, I’m coming,’ he told the caller.

Still startled by the kiss, Bel walked on to her car, not sure what to make of it, if anything, but the moment was soon gone as the bombshell Nick had dropped the other night hit her again.

She understood now why there had been so many trips to London of late: he’d presumably been meeting people from Sydney. It would also account for why he hadn’t seemed himself since his honeymoon. He knew a major change was coming up, and he’d presumably been having as big a struggle with that as he was with breaking the news to her.

‘Kristina – and I,’ he’d said, ‘think it’ll be a great opportunity for her to start bonding with the children in a way that hasn’t really been possible up to now.’

So they were going as far as they possibly could from her.

Feeling more wretched than she could bear, she got into the car and sat with her hands on the wheel, watching raindrops staggering down the windscreen.

He’d tried to make it sound as though the final decision hadn’t yet been made, but she wasn’t stupid. She could tell it had and he was simply trying to lessen the blow by not confirming it.

She kept wondering how the children were going to take it when they found out. She could see their little faces, confused and afraid as they clung to her the way they had when she’d told them their mother wouldn’t be coming home again.

‘Do you realise it could feel like another death for them?’ she’d said to Nick. ‘For the past two years they’ve been as close to me as they were to Talia . . .’

‘Which is why we have to give Kristina a chance,’ he’d cut in raggedly, ‘because
she
is their mother now, Bel.’

Not you.
He hadn’t said those words, he’d never have been so cruel, but they’d been there anyway, stark and uncompromising in their truth.

‘Let’s not discuss it any more tonight,’ he’d said. ‘I can see you’re upset, and I think it would be good for you to have some time to think it over before we speak again.’

So here she was, thinking it over, and over and over, and nothing,
absolutely nothing
was making it any easier to bear. The wrench, the loss, already felt as physical as it had when Talia had gone, and she could only see it getting worse. The children were going to be as devastated as she was when they found out. They wouldn’t want to go, she just knew it, and nothing she, or anyone else, could say would make them understand why they had to.
For heaven’s sake Nick, they’re only five and seven, they shouldn’t have to be coping with all this loss.

‘Nor should you,’ Talia said.

‘Nor should I what?’ Bel replied.

‘You know.’ They both knew.

‘But I’m the eldest.’

‘By twenty minutes, so it doesn’t count.’

‘Do you think Mummy knows?’ Bel asked.

Talia didn’t reply and Bel felt her heart closing like a fist in her chest.

Just because you can’t see me doesn’t mean I’m not there.

Bel looked to the sky as though she might catch a glimpse of someone watching her.

‘What will you do with the glimpse when you catch it?’ Talia whispered.

‘Keep it, like a butterfly, then we can use its wings to fly away.’

In the end it wasn’t them who’d flown. It was their mother.

Taking out her phone as it rang, she saw it was Nick again.

‘Hi, how are you?’ he asked when she clicked on.

‘Fine. How are you?’

‘Worried about you.’

‘There’s no need to be. When will you go?’

‘They’d like me to start at the beginning of the second semester.’

‘Which is when?’

‘The end of July.’

A few short months away. ‘And you’re sure it’s what you want?’

‘What I want to do is the best for us all.’

‘Of course.’ How could she argue with that without sounding desperate and possessive? The children weren’t hers, his future was with Kristina, so perhaps it would be for the best if she wasn’t in their lives any more. ‘I have to go,’ she said, tears of self-pity stinging her eyes.

‘Bel?’

‘Yes.’

‘Let me come over this evening.’

She didn’t want to end up begging him, or even breaking down in front of him. ‘I don’t think that’s a good idea.’

‘Why?’

‘I just don’t.’

‘What are you doing now?’

‘Does it matter?’

‘It does to me.’

‘I’ve just brought the tickets to Harry. I’m sorry, but I really do have to go,’ and before he could say any more she clicked off the line.

‘Talk to him, Bel,’ Talia said.

‘There’s no point. I have no rights here.’

‘The children need you. They’re more yours than Kristina’s.’

Knowing she couldn’t allow herself to listen to that, she started the engine and drove out of the hospital grounds, heading in the direction of Dodderton. Though she had no meetings at the barn, and it would be dark by the time she got there, she didn’t want to go home yet in case Nick decided to turn up.

Stop it, she sobbed angrily, he’s not your husband, or your partner, so you have no claim on him.

‘
He is your best friend,’ Talia reminded her. ‘Your only friend.’

‘Thanks for reminding me.’

‘You need someone of your own.’

‘You think I don’t know that?’

‘Then do something about it, or the only person you’ll have left is that man.’

‘
MUM, WHAT ARE
you doing?’

Josie glanced across the waiting room to where a short plump woman with a pierced lower lip and no hair was slumped in one of the comfy chairs.

‘Just finding something to read,’ an older woman replied, carrying a magazine back to her place.

‘You can go if you like,’ her daughter told her irritably. ‘I’ll be all right on my own.’

Her mother sighed and sat down.

They were Josie’s only companions in the waiting room. When she’d arrived it had been full, but the others had already been taken through to begin their treatment.

The plump woman with no hair shot a look in her direction, but when Josie smiled she didn’t smile back.

No one wanted to be here; no one wanted to be friends with her, it seemed. Although from the things Josie had read online it wasn’t usually like that, and some of the other patients who’d been here earlier had greeted each other like old friends. What a way to build up your Christmas card list; definitely not one they’d have chosen, she felt sure about that.

Sitting here in this dismal room with no windows and only one door, she was doing her best not to be downcast or nervous, though she had to admit she wasn’t making a very good fist of it so far. It just didn’t seem right, walking in here, feeling like a perfectly healthy person, to have all sorts of chemicals pumped into her system that were likely to make her feel worse than she ever had in her life.

‘There are a couple of reasons for giving you chemotherapy before we operate,’ Mr Beck had explained when she’d rung at the end of last week. ‘The first is to shrink the tumour to make it easier to remove. The second is to destroy any cancer cells that might have spread elsewhere in your body.’

Spread elsewhere!
She wasn’t even going to think about that.

The wait now was for the pharmacist to prepare her drugs. Apparently they were so toxic that he had to wear protective clothing while he worked with them.
And then they were going to send them into her veins!

‘Mum, your phone’s vibrating,’ the plump woman snapped crossly.

Realising it was probably fear making the younger woman edgy, Josie felt a bolt of it shudder through her.

She tried to imagine having her mother here, and could only feel glad that she wasn’t. Eileen had never been big on patience, so all this sitting around would get right on her nerves. No doubt she would have had to keep popping outside for a smoke, completely oblivious to the fact that she was in a cancer unit.

How would she react when Josie finally broke the news? Being so concerned about Jeff, Lily and Ryan she hadn’t given much thought to her mother, and decided she probably wouldn’t start now.

Jeff thought she was covering a cleaning job for a mate today. Luckily he hadn’t asked which mate, or she’d have had to make someone up in case he ran into whoever she chose. He’d been in quite a good mood since doing the Heathrow run last week, although they hadn’t had a night out in town yet. It was too extravagant to be thinking of anything like that, anyway, especially when he needed to get his car back on the road. Less of a rush for that while he had Kev’s taxi to drive, thank goodness.

‘Josie? Are you ready to come through?’

It was Jenny Eastment, the pretty, tousle-haired nurse who’d checked her blood pressure earlier and taken some blood.

What would happen if she said no?

As she got to her feet the thoughts in her head seemed to swim off somewhere else, out past Kesterly lighthouse, around the rocks, all the way out to sea. Who was sailing up and down the estuary today? How many birds were diving into the waves plucking up fish?

‘Are you OK?’ Jenny asked, taking her arm. ‘Bit nervous?’

Josie managed a smile. ‘Just a bit,’ she responded drolly.

‘You’ll be fine,’ Jenny assured her. ‘The first time’s always more of a challenge, but we’re going to make you nice and comfy, and if you want a cup of tea, or anything to eat, you just let us know.’

Unable to imagine being hungry ever again, Josie followed her into the unit, where a dozen or so people were already settled in large, mock-leather chairs with translucent tubes and cannulae attaching them to the apparatus behind them. She remembered seeing a chemo unit on the news once being opened by Terry Wogan or Graham Norton, or someone like that. It was so plush it could have been a five-star hotel. This one was nothing like that. The room was a cavernous old hall with tall, arch-top windows, peeling paint and a vaulted ceiling. Each place had a curtain next to it, with a track looped out over the chair like a wonky halo, and in front was a bed table similar to those in the care home she used to clean.

Feeling it was rude to look at anyone, she kept her eyes straight ahead as Jenny took her to one of only two empty chairs and gestured for her to sit down.

‘Are you expecting anyone to come and keep you company?’ Jenny asked, fiddling with the drip bag that had already been attached to a steel pole to one side of the chair. Also on the pole was some kind of computer with a large keypad and screen. Josie presumed all these things had proper names, but she had no idea what they were, and anyway, what did it matter? Knowing what they were called wasn’t going to change what they did.

No, she wasn’t expecting anyone to come and keep her company.

It wasn’t long before Jenny had attached a tube to the cannula she’d planted in the back of Josie’s left hand. Good job Jeff wasn’t having to go through this, he’d never have survived the whacking great needle. By God it had hurt going in.

‘We’re giving you what’s called a flush-out first,’ Jenny explained. ‘Basically, it’s to clear the veins so the drugs can run through more smoothly. It’ll take about fifteen minutes. Would you like a couple of magazines to look at while it’s going on?’

‘That would be lovely, thank you,’ Josie replied, sounding slightly breathless. ‘Is it – is it OK to leave my phone on?’

‘Yes, of course, but we ask everyone to switch to vibrate only. Cup of tea? Coffee? Juice?’

‘Tea, thank you. No milk or sugar.’

Jenny was at the nurses’ station now, filling in some forms, while Josie flipped through a copy of
Closer
magazine and sipped her cuppa. It was quite nice having waitress service, she decided. Best to enjoy it while she could, because once this jolly little flush-out was over there wasn’t going to be much to feel good about, not if all the stuff she’d read during the last few days was anything to go by.

The side effects are a thousand times worse than anyone prepares you for,
someone had written in a blog.

The chemo damaged my heart,
another had posted.

I had to give up work for over six months,
was another.
I ended up losing my job, and my husband left me. Not the best time of my life.

Josie had stopped reading at that point.

‘What’s yours?’ a woman in the next chair asked.

Josie turned to her.

‘Mine’s bowel,’ the woman told her.

‘Oh, breast,’ Josie said. ‘Is this your first time too?’

‘No. Fourth. It’s bloody awful, don’t let them tell you anything else.’

Josie didn’t know what to say, but it appeared nothing was required, as the woman closed her eyes and let go of a wavery sigh.

Further along the room a nurse was closing a curtain to give a young man some privacy, while another nurse typed information into his computer.

All the things they had to know, these nurses. It was making Josie’s head spin to try and think of it.

Hearing her phone buzz, she lifted it out of her lap and found a text from Lily.
Dad doing my head in. He won’t come to Bristol this weekend even though J and I are offering to treat you out to lunch for his birthday. I told him he doesn’t have to come to the prison after, but he’s still saying no. Please speak to him.

Knowing only too well how stubborn Jeff could be, Josie sent a text back saying
Why don’t you and J come to Kesterly on Saturday night? Dad would probably prefer that. We can go to Chanter Lysee.