Never Say Goodbye (27 page)

Knowing better than to argue, in spite of needing to pay the council tax and water bills, Josie said, ‘OK. Give me a ring when you’re on your way home. I’ll make sure your tea’s on the table.’
There was a jar of tomato sauce in the cupboard, she could pour that over some spaghetti to save her going out again.

‘I’ll make sure your tea’s on the table,’ Eileen mimicked, as Josie rang off. ‘What are you, his bloody slave?’

‘Why don’t you mind your own business and go and bug Carly,’ Josie snapped irritably.

‘Don’t worry, I’m on my way.’

As the door closed behind her Josie pulled a pair of Jeff’s jeans from the basket and laid them out on the ironing board. She still wasn’t feeling tired, or sick, only glummer than ever and angry, she realised, with her family for being so wrapped up in themselves.

They might not be if you told them what was going on with you,
she reminded herself.

Question is, would they care?

Don’t be ridiculous, of course they would.

They wouldn’t be able to do anything about it though, and Jeff was already frustrated enough, the way things were. He didn’t need her problems piling on top of him like a bloody avalanche.

As for her mother . . .

Sighing, Josie ran the iron up and down Jeff’s jeans. It seemed horribly disloyal to feel the way she did about her mother, but she couldn’t help wishing Eileen was a bit more like other mothers. The ones who went to chemo with their daughters, for example. Eileen wouldn’t have to sit there the entire time, or even get up early to catch the bus with her, but it would be lovely to have someone to meet when it was over so she could talk about how it had gone.

Who are you kidding
?
You don’t want to talk to anyone about it, so quit putting a downer on Eileen. If you gave her half a chance you might discover she’s just the shoulder you need.

Having had long experience of Eileen’s shoulder, Josie almost shuddered. ‘It’s your bloody fault,’ she’d shouted when Josie had told her about Ryan being bullied at school. ‘You baby him too much. What you have to do is tell him to get back to that school and thump the fucking daylights out of the little bastards who’re picking on him.’

‘I don’t want you round here giving them to me,’ she’d cried, when Josie had admitted the children had come home with nits. ‘Get some stuff from the chemist and let me know when the coast is clear.’

‘What are you getting so upset about?’ she’d snorted after Josie’s dad’s funeral. ‘Meself, I feel like dancing on the old bugger’s grave.’ Not understanding, it seemed, that Josie had lost her father, she’d even turned up drunk at the end of the wake and started telling anyone who’d listen how lousy the old sod had been in bed.

Not her finest hour, that was for sure, but she wasn’t all bad, Josie had to remind herself. For one thing she was a devoted nana, even if she said so herself. She’d even offered to go and take on Debbie Prince when Ryan had been sent down (though what having a go at Debbie Prince would have achieved, apart from hospitalisation for one or other, possibly both, presumably only Eileen knew). And there was no doubt she adored Lily. ‘I’d do anything for that girl,’ Eileen often declared. ‘She’s special, she is, a real one-off. Mind you, she’s a lot like me when I was her age, all that lovely hair and big blue eyes.’ As far as Josie was aware her mother had never been a redhead in her life, not even out of a bottle, and Josie wasn’t entirely sure which shade of blue brown was, but presumably Eileen knew.

This isn’t a good time to start thinking about Dawnie,
Josie told herself as her ex-best friend popped into her mind.
She’s long gone, and good riddance after what she did. It doesn’t matter that she’d come with you to chemo if she was here, or run the house, help Lily sort out her wedding, even visit Ryan if you weren’t up to it. She’d also sleep with your husband and end up running off with him when it’s all over, that’s what she’d do and where would you be then?

Sighing sadly, Josie folded the jeans and shook out a pair of boxers. Her husband might have cheated on her once, and was definitely grumpier than he used to be, but he was still her husband and she’d never want to be with anyone else.

You have to tell him what’s going on, Josie, he’ll only keep on about you getting a job if you don’t.

She would, she just needed to find the right words, a way of breaking it to him so that it didn’t sound too serious, but nevertheless he would understand why she couldn’t apply for any vacancies while all this was going on.

On the other hand, if she turned out to be one of the lucky ones who didn’t suffer much from the side effects, maybe she’d manage to bluff her way through it without telling anyone at all.

And exactly how,
she asked herself as she started up the stairs,
would you explain a missing boob in a few months’ time?

It still might not come to that. OK, Mr Beck seemed convinced that it would, but all sorts of things happened where people’s bodies were concerned, and if one woman could will away her cancer, the way Josie had read online, then who was to say she couldn’t?

‘What the bloody hell’s the matter with you?’ Jeff grumbled, as Josie climbed back into bed and snuggled under the covers. ‘Up and down, up and down like a bloody yo-yo. I’m trying to get some sleep here.’

‘Sorry,’ she whispered raggedly. She was shivering like she’d been dunked in a barrel of cold water, her throat was burning from all the bile she’d brought up, and the painkillers weren’t helping her head. It was throbbing like someone was chucking a jackhammer at her skull.

She closed her eyes.
Please no more,
she begged silently as another wave of nausea caught her.

She lifted a hand to put it to her head and caught the dressing on the duvet.

‘What’s that?’ Jeff had demanded when they were getting ready for bed. She hadn’t felt sick then, or not like she did now. ‘I hope you haven’t been trying anything daft, things aren’t that bad, you know – or not yet.’

A lame joke that hadn’t made either of them laugh.

‘Oh, I burnt it with the iron,’ she’d lied dismissively.

‘Must be some burn, a plaster that size.’

The need to get up suddenly seized her again, and staggering back to the bathroom she slumped to her knees, only just making it in time. The wrench on her insides was so brutal she’d have cried out with the pain if she’d had the breath. Quickly transferring her head to the sink, she sank down on the loo as the rejection of the drugs began flooding from both ends. It was like passing fire while someone drilled nails into her brain. Her eyes stung with acid tears, her skin felt like it was crawling off her bones.

Please God, please, please,
she was crying inside.
Make it stop. Please make it stop.

It went on and on, pausing for brief moments before coming back like a blowtorch.

‘Here,’ Jeff said, coming to wrap a blanket around her. ‘I don’t know what you ate, but I’m glad I didn’t have any of it.’

‘Thanks,’ she managed to mumble, feeling the blanket’s warmth sinking into her.

‘Best sleep in Lily’s room,’ he told her, ‘or I’ll end up missing the alarm.’

Though she wanted him to put his arms round her and tell her it’d be all right, she knew if he did she’d end up spewing all over him. Besides, he didn’t go in for hugging as much as patting, and she didn’t think she could stand to have anyone do that.

As he closed their bedroom door she began retching again, and again, the pull on her stomach, the strain on her chest so bad she felt she was turning inside out. She wondered if she should call the emergency number, or if what was happening to her was normal.

It was over an hour later before, depleted and exhausted, she was able to splash her face with cold water and drag herself into Lily’s room, where she slumped on the bed, heart pounding, breath tearing raggedly at her lungs. Her hair was matted with sweat; her skin flamed as she shivered and shook. She was as weak as a kitten, and beyond parched. She needed water. Why hadn’t she drunk some while she was washing her face?

‘Jeff,’ she whispered, knowing he wouldn’t hear. ‘I’m sorry, I left a mess in the bathroom.’

She must have passed out then, because the next thing she knew Jeff was shouting, ‘What the bloody hell? You could have cleaned up after yourself.’

He appeared in the doorway and she struggled to sit up. ‘I’ll do it now,’ she said, trying to move her legs off the bed.

‘Don’t bother, I’ll do it,’ he growled. ‘You look terrible, best stay where you are.’

Sighing with relief, she sank back into the pillow.

‘If you’re not any better by lunchtime,’ he said, from the bathroom, ‘get yourself up the doctor’s.’

She lay quietly, staring into the early-morning darkness, waiting for her system to revolt again. Her head still ached, her skin felt prickly, but for the moment her insides seemed calm.

She closed her eyes. She was so tired she wanted to sink right into the bed and never get up again. She hoped Jeff wouldn’t mind seeing to his own breakfast. It would only be this once; by tomorrow she’d be up and about, and even if she didn’t feel too special she was sure she’d manage to get through the day.

‘
BEL? IT’S YVONNE
Hubert here, from the breast clinic. Is this a bad time?’

Panting as she slowed her run to a stop, Bel managed to say, ‘Hi Yvonne, how are you? Just give me a moment to catch my breath.’

‘No rush,’ Yvonne responded.

After bending at the waist to stretch out her legs, Bel rotated her neck and shoulders and turned in the shale to face the sea. There was a time when she’d dreaded calls from Yvonne, but these days she had no reason to be afraid, only surprised and curious. ‘OK, I’m with you,’ she said, still slightly breathless, ‘but it’s difficult to hear you in this wind, so I’ll head home and call you back. Ten minutes?’

‘That’s fine. I’ll be here.’

After ringing off, Bel jogged back along the beach, round a pile of windsurfers’ gear, over a narrow ravine and up the steps in the rocks to the meadow that sloped up to her garden. Today was the first time in over a month that the rain had held off long enough to allow her to go for a run, and though she guessed she’d ache later, she was already feeling a high from being out in the fresh air.
Just don’t think about Nick taking the children to Sydney
.

After tearing off her sweatband and grabbing an apple from the fruit bowl she rang Yvonne back. ‘OK, what can I do for you?’ she asked, biting into the apple as Yvonne picked up.

Coming straight to the point, Yvonne said, ‘We have a lady who’s recently been diagnosed and began chemotherapy a week ago. The reason I’m calling you is because she’s finding it hard to tell her family about what she’s going through, and I was hoping you might agree to see her.’

Though Bel had undergone some volunteer training with Breast Cancer Care a while ago, this was the first time she’d actually been called upon to provide support, and as the request wasn’t coming directly from the charity itself she wasn’t entirely sure what to say. But what difference did it make who the request came from?

‘What this lady says she wants,’ Yvonne continued, ‘is to talk to the relative of someone who’s been diagnosed. In other words, someone who can give her some insight into what it’s like from the perspective of a family member.’

Bel’s apple stopped mid-air. She’d never imagined being asked to share her grief with a stranger, least of all someone whose own loved ones were about to go through the same. What on earth could she tell the woman that would make her feel any better? Nothing, was the answer, because there was nothing about cancer that allowed anyone to feel better, unless it was cured, or at least beaten into remission, and this woman wasn’t at that stage – yet.

‘What do you think?’ Yvonne prompted gently.

Bel put the apple down and turned to the window. ‘To be honest, I’m not sure I’m the right person,’ she said, gazing out at the surfers. ‘Remember, Talia didn’t make it. I can’t imagine that’s what this woman would want to hear.’

‘No, I don’t suppose it is, but if you do agree to talk to her we’ll be sure to tell her what happened to your sister, and then let her make up her mind if she wants to go through with making contact.’

Still thrown by the request, Bel tried to think what to say. She really didn’t want to do it, everything inside her was resisting it, but how was she going to feel if she said an outright no?

‘Of course we can always put her in direct touch with Breast Cancer Care,’ Yvonne continued, ‘but I know you’re affiliated with them, and as you’re in the Kesterly area . . . A face-to-face meeting with someone like you would probably help her a lot.’

Like me?
‘Can you tell me any more about her?’ Bel asked. ‘If she has small children, I honestly don’t think I could handle it . . .’

‘Her children are young adults,’ Yvonne came in quickly. ‘She’s married, living with her husband, and has a part-time job in a café. She’s very sweet and unassuming, still a bit shell-shocked by it all, but the one thing she’s insisting on is being able to talk to someone who’s been through what she has to inflict on her family, as she puts it.’

Feeling for the woman, Bel said, ‘She should be more worried about herself. That’s what’ll matter to them, that she’s getting all the support she can to help
her
deal with it, never mind them.’

‘Of course, and you can say that to her, but as you know very well mothers tend to put their spouses and children first.’

Yes, Bel did know that. Sighing softly, she tried running the probable ramifications through in her mind. In the end she said, ‘I’m not saying no, but can I have some time to think about it?’

‘By all means. There’s no obligation, naturally. No one’s going to pressure you if you don’t feel comfortable with it. The woman concerned won’t know who you are, or even that you exist.’

The assurance turned out to be small comfort over the next hour or so, as Bel simply couldn’t stop thinking about the woman, whoever she was. And knowing that she could be sitting somewhere in Kesterly right now, waiting to hear if someone would help her, was making it worse. It seemed so cruel and unnecessary to keep her hanging on, when all it would take was an hour of Bel’s time to explain how she’d felt when she’d found out that her beloved sister’s tumour was malignant.