Never Say Goodbye (34 page)

Josie frowned. ‘Do you think he would?’ she asked. ‘Would you want him to?’

‘Of course I’d have them, but I don’t want them to lose their daddy. They adore him, and he adores them . . .’

‘They have to come first,’ Josie insisted. ‘They’ve only just lost their mum, it would be terrible if they lost him too. There again, it would be just as bad if they lost you. Oh dear, what a dilemma. Have you talked it over with him?’

‘Not yet, but I intend to. He’s in a dreadful state, feeling so torn he doesn’t know what to do with himself, so he’s started drinking, which obviously isn’t any help at all.’

‘No, it certainly isn’t,’ Josie agreed. ‘My dad had problems in that department and I wouldn’t wish it on anyone, least of all your dear little niece and nephew. When’s he supposed to be going to Sydney?’

‘Not until July, so at least it’s not imminent, but arrangements have to be made.’ Her eyes suddenly narrowed again, but this time they were shining. ‘This isn’t right,’ she declared. ‘I’m supposed to be here cheering you up, or lending moral support, and what do I do but start loading you up with all my problems?’

‘And what’s wrong with that? You were kind enough to listen to mine, so the least I can do is return the favour.’

‘But now isn’t the time for you to be burdened with other people’s issues,’ Bel pointed out.

‘It gives me something else to think about.’ Josie looked up as Jenny returned to check on her progress.

‘I think you’re about done for today, Josie,’ she decided, pushing buttons on the computer to end the session. She cast a quick smile at Bel, then her eyes widened with surprise. ‘Hello,’ she said warmly. ‘It’s been a while since we saw you here.’

‘Nothing personal,’ Bel responded, ‘but I wasn’t intending to come again, apart from to deliver brochures for BCC. I’ll wait outside,’ she said to Josie, ‘and I can drive you home if you like.’

‘Oh no, you don’t need to do that,’ Josie protested. ‘I can get the bus. It stops right outside . . .’

Bel didn’t seem to be listening.

Ten minutes later, having signed off on the drugs she’d been given, and taking her package of anti-sickness pills and the emergency number, Josie found Bel in the waiting room –
with Jeff
.

‘What are you doing here?’ she cried, certain she was seeing things.

‘I was up around this way,’ he replied, fiddling with the gloves in his hand, ‘so I thought I’d see if you needed a lift.’

Stunned, and delighted, Josie said proudly to Bel, ‘This is my husband, Jeff. Jeff, this is Bel Monkton. She’s . . . Well she’s . . .’

‘A friend,’ Bel provided, holding out a hand to shake. ‘It’s good to meet you, Jeff. I just stopped by to say hello to Josie, and now I guess I should be going.’

‘So how do you know someone like her?’ Jeff wanted to know, as he and Josie started the drive home. ‘She’s a bit posh, isn’t she?’

Josie rested her head on the seatback. ‘You say that as though it’s some sort of crime,’ she replied, closing her eyes. She wasn’t feeling all that special, if the truth were told, a bit heady and tired, as though someone was slowly pumping lead into her veins.

‘I’m just saying, that’s all.’ He glanced over at her. ‘You’re not going to throw up, are you?’

‘Not right at this moment.’

He was still eyeing her suspiciously as he indicated to turn out of the hospital complex.

‘So, how do you know her?’ he repeated.

‘Through the nurse at the breast clinic. She put me in touch with her when I needed someone to talk to.’

He frowned. ‘So what, she’s like some sort of counsellor?’

‘I don’t think so, not really. We just had a chat, and I suppose I felt a bit better about things after.’

He seemed surprised. ‘Why, what did she say?’

She sighed, and wished she could stop her head from spinning. ‘It wasn’t so much what she said, it was just having someone to talk to who wasn’t family. Sometimes it’s easier with strangers.’

Apparently having nothing to say about that, he continued to drive, only breaking the silence when he took a call from the dispatcher for a pickup in half an hour.

Feeling relieved about that, since all she wanted when she got in was to go upstairs and lie down, Josie absorbed herself in the quiet and how pleased she was that he’d come to get her. Her thoughts soon drifted to Bel, and from there to Kelly, who she sincerely hoped was going to end up with an all-clear after her treatment; it was too horrible, too difficult to think of it happening any other way. She guessed Bel had never wanted to think negatively about her sister either, with her having two small children. At least Josie’s two were grown ups, though she wasn’t sure that made it any easier. Maybe it was harder to lose someone who’d been there for you throughout the first twenty years of your life. You knew them so much better.

‘Do you want me to come in with you?’ Jeff asked, as they pulled up outside the house.

‘No, you go on, you don’t want to be late for your fare. I can manage.’

As she gathered her things, he said, ‘I was thinking about going to watch the match over the Cross Hands later.’

‘All right,’ she replied.

‘I thought you might want to be left in peace.’

She did, and didn’t.

‘You’ll get through this, you know that, don’t you?’ he stated, making it sound more like an order than a question.

‘Course I do,’ she said with a smile. ‘You’re not going to get rid of me that easily,’ and forcing the door open she got out of the car.

‘You come out with the stupidest things sometimes,’ he told her irritably, and pulling the door closed he turned the car around and drove back down the street.

Taking herself inside, Josie shrugged off her coat and went into the living room to turn on the fire. She noticed straight away that the booklet to help partners cope with a breast-cancer diagnosis was gone from the coffee table, and her heart gave a beat of hope – until she spotted it tucked into the paper rack and remembered she’d hidden it there when someone had come round the other day.

Too exhausted to think any more of it, she turned back into the hall and climbed the stairs. All she wanted now was to snuggle down under a duvet and let the next few hours, or however long it might be, pass without too much nausea or discomfort. The trouble was, she already felt like hell, shivering and burning as though someone was throwing iced water over her flaming body, and her head was thumping like it was trying to explode. She hadn’t been this bad so early the last time, but maybe the sooner it came on, the sooner it would be over.

‘Josie! Josie! Are you in there?’ her mother shouted through the letter box as she rapped on the door. ‘I know you are, I was in Carly’s and saw you go in.’

Go away, Mum, please, please go away.

‘Come on, open up. I want to have a talk with you.’

Josie carried on to the bedroom. A talk where her mother was concerned meant Eileen wanted to borrow something, probably money.

‘What’s the matter with you?’ Eileen shouted. ‘Why was Jeff bringing you home in the middle of the day? Where have you been?’

Fearing she wouldn’t go away until she got some answers, Josie pushed open the bedroom window and looked down at her mother. ‘It’s none of your business where we’ve been,’ she told her, ‘but if you must know, he drove me into town for a job interview.’

‘Don’t give me all your bloody nonsense,’ Eileen retorted tartly. ‘I heard you was up the hospital. Penny Watts said she saw you coming out. So what’s going on?’

Sinking inside, Josie said, ‘Nothing’s
going on
. I went to see a friend and Jeff came to pick me up. Satisfied?’

‘What friend?’

‘No one you know. I’m shutting the window now, before I turn my bedroom into a fridge.’

‘Aren’t you going to let me in?’

‘No, because I’m getting ready to go out again. I’ll see you later,’ and pulling the window closed she collapsed on to the bed and just about managed to pull the duvet around her. Sleep wouldn’t come though, nothing so kind, there was only wave after wave of nausea that turned to nothing, and the wretched feeling of being consumed from within.

Her mobile rang, but she couldn’t answer.

It rang again and she still didn’t reach for it.

When it rang for a third time she forced herself to dig into her pocket.
Please God don’t let anything be wrong with either of the children, or Jeff, she didn’t have the energy to sort it out.

‘Mum,’ Ryan cried when she answered. ‘Where were you? I’ve been trying to get you.’

Instantly worried, she tried to sit up. ‘I’m sorry, love,’ she managed. ‘Are you all right?’

‘They’re moving me to a prison up north,’ he sobbed.

Stunned, Josie said, ‘They can’t do that,’ but she knew they could. ‘When did you hear?’

‘Just now. What am I going to do, Mum? I’ll never see you, or Lily or Paul . . .’

‘Have you talked to Paul? Maybe there’s something he can do.’

‘He’s not here today. Mum, I’m scared. I don’t want to go up north.’

She was trying to think, but right now she didn’t have the energy to make a call, if she even knew who to ring. ‘Listen,’ she said weakly, ‘I’m going to try and . . .’ She broke off at the sound of jeering and laughter coming down the line. She heard Ryan grunt, as though he’d been punched, or shoved against a wall. ‘Ry? Are you there?’

‘Yeah,’ he whimpered.

‘What’s happening?’

‘Nothing, I got to go,’ and to her dismay the line went dead.

Feeling more dreadful than she ever had in her life, she clicked off her end and tried to breathe steadily as she closed her eyes. She had to think who to call, who might be able to help, but there was only Jeff and Lily, and what was the point of worrying them when they’d have no more idea what to do than she did?

‘Oh Ryan, Ryan, Ryan,’ she sobbed inside, imagining all kinds of horrors being rained down on him even as she lay here, ‘my baby, my boy. I don’t want to let you down, but I don’t know what to do.’

TWO WEEKS HAD
now passed since Bel had popped into the oncology centre to see Josie. During that time they’d been in touch regularly on the phone, and Bel had called round to Josie’s home to check on progress a few days after the treatment. Though Josie had suffered quite badly again, and for longer than the first time, thankfully, by the second week, she was back on her feet, good as new, as she liked to tell Bel, though it was clear from the changed pallor of her skin that the chemotherapy was starting to take its toll.

It was surprising them both to find how comfortable they were in each other’s company, particularly given how different their worlds were, or maybe it was because they were so different that the friendship worked. Who could say? What mattered was the way they each seemed to be filling a space in the other’s life with no pressure involved, only support and plenty of laughter, something neither of them had had nearly enough of in recent times.

It was Wednesday afternoon now, five days before Josie’s next treatment, and they were both at the barn, standing a short way back from the front entrance amongst years of accumulated farmyard debris and a great many puddles, some as deep as their knees. In spite of the gloomy day Bel was having no problem seeing past the tattered roof, dilapidated stone walls and mud-packed floor to the building’s true magnificence. By the time it was converted to a dwelling both vast cart doors, with their crumbling stone archways, would be returned to their original splendour, with glass doors inserted. The dovecotes built into the fascia and the old oak lintels would be carefully restored, while the cavernous space inside, criss-crossed with centuries-old beams, would, eventually, become a home with five en-suite bedrooms, two staircases, three separate living areas and a huge family kitchen. The milking shed across the courtyard could serve either as a garage, stables, a guest cottage or perhaps a gym and a pool.

So far everything was going to plan. Bel’s deposit was firmly in the farmer’s bank, the surveyor’s report hadn’t delivered any knockout blows, and the architect and builder were almost as enthusiastic about the project as she was. All they needed now was to complete the deal, get approval from the planners and they could begin.

Just like that. If only things were so easy.

‘So what do you think?’ she asked, turning to Josie who was stoically braving the mizzling rain.

Josie’s eyes were incredulous. ‘Well, I don’t have your imagination,’ she admitted, tucking a windswept golden curl behind one ear, ‘but I reckon even I can see it’s going to be impressive when it’s finished. Will you live here?’

‘No,’ Bel laughed, linking her arm and starting towards the barn. She needed to get Josie out of this weather before the damp seeped into her coat and she ended up catching cold. ‘It’s far too big for one person. By the time everything’s done we could end up with as many as seven or eight bedrooms. Who knows, it might suit someone as a small hotel, or B & B. Do you know anything about the architecture of barns?’ she asked, as they entered the shadowy interior.

Josie’s expression was wry. ‘Well, now, I can’t say I do. In fact, I’m sure this is the first time I’ve ever set foot in one.’

‘Me too, of this type,’ Bel informed her. ‘It’s what’s called a traditional hay barn, built on the cross. Do you see what I mean? Front to back is the spine of the cross, with huge doors either end for the carts to bring in their loads and exit without having to reverse. And the arms of the cross, so to speak, are the spaces where they used to toss the hay. Because it’s late nineteenth century and Grade II listed, all of this has to remain intact, but we can probably put ceilings into the arms of the cross to create a dining room on ground level, with a staircase leading up to a galleried bedroom and bathroom. The same the other side, but with a sitting room on this floor.’

Josie was gazing around, trying to take it all in. ‘What about windows?’ she asked, seeing none in the arms of the cross.

‘The cart doors will be all the windows we’re allowed,’ Bel replied, ‘which is why it’s fantastic to have two – usually there’s only one at the front. They’ll let in masses of light. The narrow slits you can see in most of the walls will also have to stay as they are – they were there for the hay to breathe – but obviously we’ll have to glass them over to stop the wind howling through.’